Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

Chapter 43: The Enraged King of the Forbidden Forest



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"Why does it feel so dangerous?"

Although Harry wasn't frightened by Hagrid's blood-streaked face, he couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.

Hagrid rarely kept secrets; he was the type to say things outright. But when he did keep something hidden, it was never a small matter.

"Dangerous?"

Hagrid paused, mid-swipe as he pushed the innards into a wooden bucket. After a moment of thought, he nodded.

"Maybe a little dangerous," Hagrid said uncertainly. "There's some pain, but you'll get used to it. Once you're used to it, it won't hurt as much."

"Are we going into the Forbidden Forest for a one-on-one fight with those creatures?"

"Hah, no way." Hagrid laughed awkwardly and waved his hand. "With your small frame, going into the forest is a death sentence. I'm not even exaggerating—there are centaurs in there that could take you down bare-handed, and they're probably the weakest ones in the forest. Sure, they're smart, but they don't have much strength. Half their combat power comes from their poison-tipped spears and arrows."

"They're fine against smaller creatures, but if they run into something tougher, they have to call in their priests. Centaurs can cast spells, and they're pretty strong. But there aren't many of them."

"So, what's your plan, Hagrid?"

Seeing that it wasn't something only Hagrid could handle, Harry felt a bit of relief.

"You can feel magic, can't you, Harry?"

"Magic? Uh, of course." Harry glanced at his palm and then nodded.

"I mean a clear sense of it, like controlling where it moves. Can you do that?"

"It's hard for a young wizard like you, but in a few years, you should manage."

As Harry tried what Hagrid was suggesting, Hagrid, who was chopping up a Graphorn, continued talking. He didn't have many friends, and few people were willing to chat with him. Whenever Harry was around, Hagrid liked to say a bit more. Maybe that was the loneliness of a man living on the outskirts of life.

"A long time ago, my wand was broken because of... certain things. But when I got expelled from Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, who always believed in me, let me stay on as the groundskeeper. He vouched for me."

"He even secretly repaired my wand. At least this way, I'm still a wizard. But I can only use it in secret, or I'd get Dumbledore into trouble, and he's done so much for me already."

"I was only sixteen at the time, completely clueless about how to be a good groundskeeper. Before me, Hogwarts didn't have this position, so no one could teach me how to do it."

"So I thought, let's make the chaotic Forbidden Forest better than it was. Decades ago, there were plenty of reckless young wizards who'd sneak into the forest to test their bravery. Every year, people got hurt because of such silly reasons, yet those idiots kept going in. One day, they were going to die doing that."

"I went into the forest and threw out every disobedient creature I came across, gradually clearing the outer edges of the Forbidden Forest and driving away the magical creatures that didn't belong there."

"But I wasn't as strong as I am now, and I was barely three meters tall back then. There were plenty of troublesome creatures that gave me a hard time. I even ran into a few that nearly killed me. But I had to do it; I had to repay Professor Dumbledore for believing in me."

"I had to manage the Forbidden Forest properly. I had to set boundaries so that nothing dangerous would threaten the students. I had to assign territories to the creatures so they wouldn't constantly fight each other. But all of this needed... strength."

Hagrid clenched his fist, crushing the Graphorn's tough skull into a pile of mush and tossing it aside. He seemed lost in his memories, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

"But how could I get stronger if I couldn't use magic in front of others?"

"I do have some giant blood in me, but it's not enough. Giants are strong because they band together in tribes. There are plenty of magical creatures that can take down a giant one-on-one. Even if you put giants in the Forbidden Forest, their chances of dying would be higher than their chances of surviving."

"One day, the centaurs approached me. They offered to help establish an unbreachable boundary and patrol the Forbidden Forest at night, ensuring those reckless kids wouldn't lose their lives in there."

"I accepted their offer. In return, I found them a great place to settle their tribe—a beautiful gorge with a waterfall and a stream. I cleared out the Chimera herd that had been living there, making it the centaurs' new home."

"But there were quite a lot of Chimeras, maybe twenty or thirty of them. Even with the centaurs helping, it was a tough fight. Those creatures have dragon blood in them, and any magical beast with dragon blood is incredibly strong. Even the skinny Thestrals can easily pull several tons of weight while flying."

"From that moment, I developed a fondness for dragons."

"So, I asked the centaurs, 'You're so smart; you must know how I can become stronger, right? Make me as strong as a dragon. Then I can handle the unruly creatures in the forest and fulfill Professor Dumbledore's request.'"

"The centaurs explained a lot of things I couldn't understand, but that didn't matter. What I did grasp was the key to why magical creatures have such powerful bodies compared to wizards."

"I remember what one of them said. He told me: 'In the past, all centaurs could use magic, but not in the same way as now. Not every centaur with magic could wield it powerfully. To survive, our ancestors made a compromise.'"

"'Some centaurs gave up their ability to cast spells, instead channeling magic into their bodies to enhance their physical strength. A few others, who were born with exceptional magical talent, became the priests of our tribes, making up for the loss of magic in most centaurs. Because of this change, life became easier for us.'"

"'He said: Hagrid, since you can't use magic, you should try this. Magical creatures are so strong because they infuse their magic into their bodies. That's why not many magical creatures can cast spells. Only those born with extraordinary magic can maintain both a powerful body and strong magical abilities.'"

"'Take the Sphinxes, for example. They're tough to deal with. I've had a few run-ins with them. Luckily, my fists are strong enough.'"

Hagrid chuckled softly. He wasn't any good at solving the Sphinxes' riddles, but he could make them shut up—or even swallow their words—using his fists.

"So, I gave it a try. Maybe because giants can naturally use magic, and I have wizard blood too, I had more magic than other wizards—and more than most magical creatures. Even after channeling my magic into my body, I could still use spells."

"And at the same time, I grew stronger."

"I started growing taller again—more than half a meter taller—and my strength became almost as great as that of a giant. Back then, there was a small tribe of five giants in the Forbidden Forest. Once I got stronger, I had to deal with them. Giants are greedy brutes, rough and unreasonable. They kept breaking the boundaries I set, so I had to make sure everyone in the forest respected me. I killed them and hung their heads from the trees."

"The centaurs were right. Infusing magic into your body makes you stronger, but first, you need to be able to sense magic clearly, control it, and merge it with your bones, muscles, and skin. Then you'll be able to—"

A scream interrupted Hagrid's rambling. He looked up suddenly and saw Harry writhing in pain on the grass. The boy, who had been so full of life just moments before, was now pale, with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. This was no act—Harry was in genuine, excruciating pain!

"Harry! Harry! HARRY!!"

Panicked, Hagrid rushed over, smashing the sturdy wooden table piled with meat as he went. He crouched down carefully, his face full of worry.

"Who did this?!"

His enraged voice echoed, silencing the buzzing of insects in the Forbidden Forest.

"Show yourself!!!"

In a fury, Hagrid swung his fist, smashing the blazing campfire. The scattered flames illuminated the twilight, reflecting the fire of rage burning in Hagrid's eyes.

(End of Chapter)


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