Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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“Professor can turn into a cat!”

“Idiot! That’s a cat superhero!”

“So cool!”

“Awesome!”

“Professor McGonagall was so pretty when she was younger!”

“So, the prettier a girl is, the more authoritative she becomes when she’s older, right?”

“Just say if you like it or not.”

“I, um, think you’re actually quite…”

“Hmm??? I’m a guy!”

“It’s the same if you wear a skirt!”

“Why don’t you wear one then!”

“Well, if you want to see…”

“…then try it?”

As the young witches and wizards left the classroom and headed towards the Great Hall, their chatter about Professor McGonagall and various random topics buzzed around them. The Hufflepuffs were animatedly discussing, and the initially shy first-years quickly mingled over the strange topics.

The flow of students converged in the Great Hall, the busiest time of day at Hogwarts. After completing their first magical lessons, the first-years were in a state of high excitement.

However, compared to his peers, Harry wasn’t caught up in the excitement. His thoughts were a tangled mess, the magical world’s impact on him being particularly overwhelming.

*[I really need to master Occlumency quickly. What is this “prophet of the traverser” nonsense? It’s all a bunch of rubbish.]* Harry muttered to himself as he stuffed his mouth with fried fish and chips, roasted chicken legs, steak, pork chops, broccoli, pudding, and mint candies, until a content burp shook him out of his daze.

*[Forget the magical mech catwoman McGonagall for now. What was I supposed to figure out?]*

Rubbing his forehead, Harry declined Neville’s invitation to return to the common room, saying, “I ate too much at lunch. I need to go for a walk.” Patting his slightly bulging stomach, Harry wobbled out of the castle doors.

Though the sun overhead was a bit bothersome, the sight of the flat grassy field was refreshing. In the distance, where the grass met the Forbidden Forest, a dark green glow emanated from the dense woods, the noonday sun unable to penetrate the thick canopy.

A large stone building was sending out a faint smell of burnt bread mixed with rich stew. This building was the only landmark between the grass and the Forbidden Forest.

Harry quickened his pace to a brisk walk towards the distant hut. Before long, he could spot a small white dot moving against the blue sky—it was Hedwig, easily recognizable.

In just about ten minutes, Hagrid’s hut was in sight. The smell of slightly burnt wheat and hearty stew wafted through the air. Harry knocked on the heavy wooden door with his fist. “Hagrid!”

“Hagrid, I’ve come to see you!”

Harry’s loud voice was immediately met with a response. The sound of a chair scraping the floor followed by a burst of barking could be heard.

“Guests, guests! Fang, quiet down, it’s Harry,” came Hagrid’s cheerful voice from behind the door.

“Woof woof woof!” “Creeeak—”

The heavy oak door was pushed open by Hagrid’s enormous hand, revealing a large black Neapolitan Mastiff, its drool-soaked fangs evident as it barked excitedly, its loyalty and hunting instincts clearly visible.

As the door swung open, Fang’s barking abruptly stopped.

The first thing Fang saw was a boy about five and a half feet tall, wearing a white sleeveless shirt and a red short-sleeved shirt. The normally fitting outfit was stretched by his bulging muscles, making Fang’s eyes widen. The dog whimpered, its tail between its legs as it retreated behind Hagrid’s leg.

The sudden silence made the air between them tense. Hagrid looked down at Fang, shaking his head with a chuckle. He nudged Fang with his foot, who was practically hanging onto his leg.

“Fang!” Hagrid sighed, “No wonder Rufus doesn’t like you. You need to be more spirited.”

Hagrid gave Fang’s collar a gentle tug, moving him forward, and pointed at Harry. “This is Harry. Remember him from now on.”

“Woof?”

Fang, with his big, pitiful eyes, cautiously peeked at Harry. When Harry extended a large arm, Fang closed his eyes in resignation.

“Fang, huh?”

Harry, lifting Fang with one hand, observed, “Hagrid, you’ve taken good care of him. His fur is so shiny.” After giving Fang a pat on the head, Harry set the dog down. “Too bad he’s a bit timid, though.”

“Yeah, he’s a bit timid,” Hagrid said, scratching his head. “Come on in, don’t just stand there. Let’s get inside.”

“I was thinking of writing to invite you over in a few days, but I didn’t expect you to come so soon. How were the lessons today? Magic is fascinating, isn’t it?” Hagrid said with an uncontainable smile, bringing over a large wooden mug filled with steaming tea that had a refreshing aroma.

“Professor McGonagall was amazing! Transfiguration was so interesting, and Animagus transformation was like… wow~” Harry exclaimed, still impressed by the earlier demonstration. “It’s one of those ultimate boyhood dreams!”

“Is that so?” Hagrid chuckled, not missing a beat as he picked up a large pot from the fireplace, filled with delicious-smelling stew. “Want some? A couple of days ago, I went into the Forbidden Forest for some ingredients for the professors. I saved some of the meat—magical beast meat is quite tasty; you probably haven’t had it before.”

“Want to try?” Hagrid then grabbed a bamboo basket filled with steaming hot bread, nearly as big as half of Harry’s head.

Hagrid broke off a piece of the bread and stuffed a large chunk of tender stew meat into it. With a crunching sound like breaking rocks, the bread, which was nearly the size of half a head, was quickly reduced to half. Hagrid savored the meal with evident enjoyment.

“There you go, Fang.” Hagrid tossed a piece of meat into Fang’s food bowl, who, no longer as scared, pounced on it with a hunger and energy that suggested a ferocious appetite.

“Try it out!”

Although Harry had already eaten lunch, he was willing to have more. However, after picking up a piece of the bread, he underestimated the strength required to break it.

“Rock-hard bread, huh?”

With his arms straining, Harry bit down, trying to mimic Hagrid’s method of breaking the bread. He managed to break it with a lot of effort.

Breathing heavily, Harry managed to calm himself and took a big bite of the bread with stew and meat. The hard crust shattered while the softer inner bread absorbed the stew, turning the meat into a pudding-like texture. The contrasting sensations from the chewy bread and tender meat made the dish incredibly satisfying, proving that hard-earned food was indeed far more rewarding.

“Good job! Harry!”

Hagrid laughed heartily, clearly pleased. “I actually meant to say you could soften the bread a bit before eating, but this is the best way to enjoy it. Unfortunately, it seems most people can’t handle it this way.”

“Well, you should have said that earlier, Hagrid,” Harry mumbled with a slightly sore jaw. “It’s tasty, but it’s quite tough on the teeth.”

“I need to put in more effort myself; breaking the bread almost wore me out. How strong are you, Hagrid?” Harry asked curiously while continuing to eat.

“Me?”

Hagrid, who hadn’t considered the question before, chewed on a piece of bread and then drank half a pot of steaming hot stew in one go. Wiping his mouth, he replied uncertainly, “I could probably lift, um, a full-grown mountain troll, or swing it by its tail and throw it behind me.”

“Mountain troll?” Harry was unfamiliar with magical creatures. “What about a horned beast?”

“That little thing?” Hagrid looked at Harry with some surprise. “I could break its horn with one punch and then kill it.”

Hagrid pointed to a tattered sack hanging on the wall, stuffed with thirty to forty long, sharp horns.

“There are plenty of big creatures in the forest. A little beast like that is only good for being eaten.”

Listening to Hagrid’s casual comments, Harry quickly gave up the idea of comparing his strength with Hagrid’s.

At over three meters tall, with a shoulder height of at least two meters seventy or eighty, and horned beasts weighing at least two tons, Hagrid described as easy prey for him. Harry couldn’t help but be awestruck.

With a gasp, Harry cooled down the half-eaten meat pie in his hand. He chewed absently, lost in thoughts about his own limitations.

“Among wizards, you must be quite rare, right?” Harry was aware of Hagrid’s giant bloodline but couldn’t mention it directly.

“Yeah,” Hagrid nodded, then hesitated before continuing, “Don’t tell others, but I’m actually half-giant. My mother was, though I can’t remember what she looked like. She wasn’t a good mother, but my father was great.”

A trace of fond nostalgia appeared in Hagrid’s eyes. “But he died when I was young.” Hagrid pointed to a photo above the fireplace, showing a short man being lifted by a young, tall Hagrid, who looked to be around ten but was already over two meters tall.

“Forget about it, Harry.” Hagrid changed the subject, finishing the last of the stew with one big gulp.

“Harry, if you’re free today, I’ll show you something interesting. I don’t trust the other young wizards; it’s too dangerous for them, but for you—haha!”

Hagrid clapped Harry on the shoulder, squeezing his strong muscles. “You’ll be fine. Those little creatures won’t be able to hurt you.”

“Oh, really?”

Harry had come to ask Hagrid some questions, but he was also eager to learn new things.

“Let’s get ready and head out. We won’t go too deep, just stick to the edge. But remember, don’t run off alone into the forest, especially not deep in. There are many big creatures, and even I might not be able to deal with them quickly. And you, as a young wizard, definitely won’t stand a chance.”

(End of Chapter)