Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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*****

A full month of detention without any discounts. Besides being in charge of the night pots in the hospital wing, the twins also had to work in Professor Sprout's greenhouses. In preparation for the new school year, Professor Sprout had opened yet another greenhouse, and with not enough staff to handle the compost, the twins were tasked with safely transporting the fermented manure to its destination.

Upon hearing this news, Harry mourned for the twins for about three seconds. The tasks themselves weren't particularly strenuous, but dealing with such foul materials was undeniably unpleasant.

"This is all totally worth it!"

"You don't need to comfort us, Harry."

The twins, taking it all in stride, showed no signs of dismay despite the month-long detention. In fact, after leaving Professor McGonagall's office, they even wore a slight, excited grin.

Of course, it wasn't because they had become proud "manure carriers." Rather, Hagrid had promised to let them keep the injured blue Snidget they had found. Although their healing spells had stopped the bleeding, the bird's broken bones and internal injuries required a professional's care.

Fortunately, Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, the current Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts, was more than willing to help them. However, the condition was that the Snidget had to make an appearance in class as a demonstration model.

Kettleburn, being of old age and with only one fully functional limb remaining, had no hope of catching the teleporting bird himself. In the past, he'd always relied on his Kelpie, which could transform into various magical creatures for demonstrations. If he could get his hands on an actual specimen, he certainly wouldn't miss the chance.

After all, a five-meter-tall Snidget transformation would be more than a little ridiculous and quite comical, something students would surely mock.

After saying goodbye to the twins, Harry returned to the common room. The afternoon classes were about to begin, and he needed to fetch his textbook. However, upon reaching his room, he realized that the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook wasn't exactly a proper textbook at all. Instead, it resembled a casual read titled Dark Magic: From Basics to Azkaban.

The thin book, barely a few dozen pages, provided a detailed explanation of the "cost" associated with common Dark Magic spells. Unlike traditional magic, Dark Magic often provided enhanced effects, but this extra power always came at a price.

Every gift has its cost, and the price of Dark Magic is often so subtle that it goes unnoticed by the wizard using it. It's this insidious nature that makes it so dangerous.

There were still ten minutes left before Defense Against the Dark Arts started, but the classroom was already packed. Most students had a keen interest in the subject, as the very name alone evoked a certain thrill. And to top it off, the class was being taught by none other than Grindelwald.

The Muggle-born students might not have grasped the significance of the name, but every wizard-born student knew.

Gellert Grindelwald—leader of the Dark Wizard faction—was acknowledged as the most powerful Dark wizard in Europe. His reputation rivaled that of Dumbledore, the most powerful Light wizard. Decades ago, it was said the two had fought in a legendary duel, though time and intentional secrecy had shrouded the details.

Even the scant details were enough to form a mental image of a towering, unstoppable figure. Though he cast a shadow of darkness, he still commanded a fearful respect.

As the clock struck 2 PM, the sound of calm footsteps approached. The classroom door swung open, and in walked Grindelwald, with his silver-white hair neatly trimmed short, unlike Dumbledore's long flowing locks. This gave him a much younger appearance, and he seemed full of energy, betraying none of the signs of his advanced age.

Wasting no time, Grindelwald scanned the classroom, taking roll quickly and delivering a brief introduction.

"I am Gellert Grindelwald, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the year. Given Hogwarts' abysmal teamwork last year, I will teach you the correct way to become soldiers, warriors."

"Now, can anyone tell me what the essence of Dark Magic is, the magic we aim to defend against?"

His gaze swept across the classroom, but no one raised a hand.

"Where is the famed wit of Ravenclaw? Is Hufflepuff truly just a gathering of mediocrity?"

His lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. It was subtle but enough to provoke a reaction. "This morning, both Gryffindor and Slytherin students answered my question. I expect the rest of you to follow their lead. Don't be afraid to answer, even if you're wrong."

A hand finally shot up. Children are easily stirred, and if Gryffindor and Slytherin could do it, why not Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?

"Very good. Miss Granger, please."

Grindelwald gave a slight nod. Hermione stood up, her fingers gripping the thin book nervously.

"The book doesn't explicitly state what Dark Magic is, but I believe—" Hermione swallowed, clearly uneasy about answering something not directly covered in the text. "I believe Dark Magic is a force that corrupts the mind, leading wizards to extremes and eventually to destruction."

"The most terrifying aspect is that Dark Magic corrupts a wizard so subtly that the user often can't even notice it. That's why it's a forbidden practice in the wizarding world."

"It seems Miss Granger has read your assigned book quite thoroughly," Grindelwald nodded slightly. "Does anyone have a different opinion?"

Most of the students shook their heads, as Hermione's description aligned with their understanding of Dark Magic.

"It seems Hufflepuff might have a fresh perspective as well. Mr. Potter, would you like to share your thoughts?"

When Grindelwald looked at Harry, there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. After all, the Boy Who Lived had quite the reputation. Though Grindelwald regarded Voldemort as a nuisance, he acknowledged that causing trouble for Albus took a certain level of skill.

"I believe that Dark Magic isn't purely evil. To me, magic is a form of exchange, and regular magic has an inherent limit—the amount of power put in determines the strength of the spell. However, this exchange has a certain ceiling."

"And black magic breaks the limitations of regular magic. Using black magic doesn't just require magical power but also demands an additional price. I believe this might be something intrinsic to human nature, or perhaps something fundamental that I don't fully understand—maybe the soul? This results in the outward appearance of black magic, leading wizards to fall into evil."

"An interesting answer." A slight smile appeared at the corner of Grindelwald's mouth. "Sit down, Mr. Potter. You're somewhat close to the truth."

Grindelwald gestured with his hand. "Now, let me tell you the real answer."

"The current understanding of black magic in the magical world is biased and flawed. Because of this mistaken framework, none of you truly grasp what black magic really is!"

"Does it corrupt the mind? Does it lead people to evil and destruction?"

"The reason behind this is simply that people have no proper understanding of black magic."

"Every wizard's understanding of it is wrong, even completely backward."

"Black magic itself is not inherently evil. I admit it has its dangers, but it is controllable. Mr. Potter's guess was right in one respect—black magic does require a certain price. But this price also exists in what we consider non-dark magic."

"Magical power, emotions, and will."

"These three intangible but real forces form the foundation of all magic. Magical power is the energy that creates the spells, determining their basic potency. Emotions and will act as amplifiers. When the magical power is equal, emotions and will determine a spell's final strength."

"Compared to what we perceive as 'white' magic, the emotions that fuel black magic..."

"Which is easier: protecting or destroying?"

Grindelwald posed a new question to the students.

"Destruction is easier," the students answered hesitantly, their voices scattered and uneasy.

"It seems you all have a clear understanding of that." Even this slight confirmation from Grindelwald seemed to boost the students' spirits.

"The emotions tied to white magic are always positive. Even magic used in combat comes from milder emotions, like suppression—for example, disarming or stunning spells. But these positive emotions have visible limits."

"The limitation isn't in the magic itself, but in the emotions that amplify its power. While a strong will can compensate, this limitation remains a weakness, and not everyone possesses a strong will."

"On the other hand, destruction is always easier than protection. Negative emotions like anger, rage, and pain—these fuel black magic. We all know how powerful the force of vengeance can be, and revenge certainly isn't a pleasant, positive emotion."

"But should these emotions that drive black magic always be rejected as evil?"

"For instance, if killing one person could save a thousand, would that act of killing be evil?"

"The intent behind such killing may be intense, but it is still motivated by protection."

"Protecting through protection has its limits, but protecting through killing exceeds those limits."

Grindelwald drew his wand from his robe—a finely crafted Browning M1935 semi-automatic pistol, its sleek lines exuding an elegance far beyond Professor McGonagall's collectible USP. The difference in luxury was like comparing brass to gold—the Browning gleamed magnificently.

"In Defense Against the Dark Arts, practical knowledge is the only true knowledge. All theory is just empty talk without action."

"I've said a lot, but nothing is as clear as seeing it with your own eyes."

"So now..."

Grindelwald tossed a black sack into the air, and a cloud of dark mist rose from it, condensing into a terrifying creature in a tattered black cloak, floating in midair.

Just five feet from the students, the Dementor from Azkaban emitted an aura of despair that struck fear into every living being. Yet, it seemed restrained by some magic, unable to unleash its full power. Even though its aura was dampened, the students could still feel the bone-chilling terror.

The young wizards gasped and shrieked, as if they'd been doused with cold water. However, the despair that usually followed the Dementor's presence—draining away all happiness—didn't take hold.

"A fresh Dementor from Azkaban. I trust this kind of fear will leave a lasting impression on you."

Grindelwald raised his wand—no, his gun—and with a clear voice said, "Expecto Patronum."

A flash of white light shot from the gun's barrel, and a golden phoenix, lifelike and resplendent, soared into the air. This Patronus, summoned from emotions like hope, joy, and happiness, was the absolute antithesis of the deathly despair spread by the Dementor.

The corporeal Patronus has the power to destroy this semi-phantom dark magic creature. The moment the phoenix Patronus appeared, the Dementor screamed as it began to melt, and the icy despair that had filled the classroom faded with the arrival of the faintly golden Patronus.

A wave of warmth spread through the room, calming the young wizards. Though they were still fearful, they were also filled with curiosity as they stared ahead. When the Dementor was shattered into black mist by the phoenix and completely vanished, a few quiet cheers broke out.

"This is pure protection."

Grindelwald commanded the Patronus to perch on the desk. "If you observe carefully, after completely destroying the Dementor, the strength of the Patronus has diminished somewhat."

Although the young wizards couldn't tell, they trusted Grindelwald's words. They all nodded in agreement. The professor was right.

"Protection for the sake of protection is passive—that's the limitation of so-called white magic. Rather than saying the Patronus killed the Dementor, it would be more accurate to say that the Patronus sacrificed a part of itself to neutralize the Dementor's energy."

"This is not killing—it's a noble but foolish sacrifice."

"But what if it were black magic?"

A faint, unreadable smile appeared on Grindelwald's face. He tossed out another black sack, and a new Dementor materialized in front of the students. Having already been shocked once, their curiosity now outweighed their fear. There were a few gasps, but no one screamed.

Grindelwald raised his gun once more, aimed it at the Dementor, and again recited the same spell: "Expecto Patronum!"

But this time, what shot from the barrel was not the soft golden mist, but a terrifying black light, deep as the abyss, radiating a chilling sense of unease.

If a Dementor brings despair by draining joy, then this black light, which quickly coalesced into a dark phoenix, exuded the forces of slaughter, death, and fear.

Unlike a traditional Patronus, this one, born from the most extreme negative emotions, was far more terrifying than any Dementor—a pure black phoenix, a Patronus seemingly devoid of any protective qualities.

"Slaughter committed for protection is justice."

As soon as these words were spoken, the black phoenix spread its wings, its sharp, dark claws instantly gripping the Dementor's shoulders before tearing it in two.

Black mist exploded in all directions, the Dementor's despair scattering, only to be picked off and completely devoured by the black phoenix's careful pecking.

"Magic itself is neither good nor evil—it is merely a tool for wizards. If a blade cuts your hand, it only means you didn't wield it properly. What we must do is not seal away the blade that can hurt us, but learn how to wield it correctly."

"In Defense Against the Dark Arts, we're not learning how to counter black magic—we're learning how to master it."

"If power isn't used, it serves no purpose. And in this age..."

Grindelwald's gaze turned cold as he looked at the students.

"We need someone to step into the darkness to protect the light for others."

"Time is running out, children," Grindelwald said softly, narrowing his eyes slightly.

(End of Chapter)