Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

As soon as Harry returned to Hogwarts on the train, he overheard a somewhat exaggerated and legendary tale.

The Halloween incident had been solved. Someone had uncovered the culprit and found evidence to prove their guilt: half an ounce of plastic high-energy explosive potion, a mysterious dark magic book, and an unclaimed wand likely bought on the black market from its deceased owner. Using a recall spell, it was revealed that this wand had been used to cast the Imperius Curse.

The overwhelming evidence was enough to identify the mastermind, and once confronted, the person admitted to everything without even needing to be interrogated. He confessed his crimes right in front of the professors.

Using an Unforgivable Curse was a severe offense in the English wizarding world, and Percy Weasley had nearly lost his life because of it. The culprit would now face trial by the Ministry of Magic and a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.

While this should have been a satisfying conclusion, after hearing the full story, Harry was left with an odd feeling.

The source of Harry’s unease came from the identity of the person who had solved the mystery.

His name was Ron Weasley, the youngest brother of the Weasley family and a first-year student in Gryffindor House.

"Of course I had to find the guy who almost killed Percy!" Ron boasted, surrounded by a crowd at the welcome-back feast.

"Though I knew it was risky—no one could say if this guy would jump out of a corner and hit me with a curse—I had to use my head while investigating."

"I figured, as a good student and prefect, Percy must have been somewhere he often went. Maybe the culprit ran into him, or perhaps the attacker had been lying in wait, planning to ambush him."

"I thought of that right away, but I didn't tell anyone to avoid tipping the guy off. Fred and George were also concerned, but I was worried they’d mess it up—they’ve gotten into detention more than anyone, and if Filch caught them sneaking around at night, my plan would’ve been ruined."

Ron paused to sip some pumpkin juice and tossed aside a chicken bone, grabbing a drumstick. After basking in the admiring glances from his peers, he continued.

"After waiting patiently, I finally spotted him sneaking around on Christmas Day. I bet he was trying to get rid of the evidence."

"Who skulks around the library on Christmas? I knew something was wrong, so I followed him carefully and saw him go into a hidden room behind a statue."

"He was way older than me. I didn’t know he was a fifth-year at the time, but as a Gryffindor, I couldn’t back down. So I put my plan into action."

Ron dramatically recounted his strategy to confront the guy, describing a long duel of spells that, according to him, showcased his genius.

"But didn’t you just grab a broken table leg and knock him out with a sneak attack?" asked an older student who had stayed at school over the holiday. "I heard you even chipped a tooth when you fell."

"That’s nonsense!" Ron snapped, waving the half-eaten drumstick with a scowl, though his ears turned red for some reason.

"Anyway, I brilliantly took care of that scumbag. I found the evidence on him and caught the guy who nearly killed Percy!"

After his rapid-fire explanation, Ron, now brimming with confidence again, dove into a detailed account of how he brought the culprit to Professor McGonagall’s office and shared his “brilliant” deductions.

At this point, Harry quietly slipped away. Although Ron had clearly embellished many details of the story, the general gist seemed accurate. Summing it up, Ron had been wandering the castle during Christmas, spotted someone suspicious, followed his gut, knocked the guy out with a blunt object, and ended up catching the real culprit.

It was a rather extraordinary story with its fair share of surprises. But luck, Harry mused, was an unpredictable thing. Stranger things had happened in dueling arenas—like turning the tide of a battle with an improbable, last-minute spell. Compared to those flukes, Ron stumbling upon the criminal seemed like a minor miracle.

At least catching a culprit could be attributed to instinct, but winning by sheer luck in a duel was just pure chance.

Even though Harry had some doubts about the whole affair, most people were willing to accept it as a stroke of luck. After all, the criminal had confessed, and the evidence was solid. In the end, results were all that mattered. The process? People only cared about the general outline.

"Maybe in this strange world, Ron isn’t as hopeless as I thought?"

Though Harry had always seen Ron as a lazy and unmotivated slacker, not the worst student but certainly lacking any real drive, the idea that Ron could step up and show some initiative was surprising. Ron usually preferred copying homework, would abandon tasks midway if no one watched him, and had such a strong sense of jealousy that he’d often think the worst of his closest friends. As a sidekick, his most notable qualities were his decent chess-playing ability and a passable sense of loyalty.

For that reason, Harry had never intended to get too involved with Ron. The Weasley family had plenty of talents, but Ron seemed like an unexpected exception. If it weren’t for his unmistakable red hair, you could almost believe Mrs. Weasley had adopted him.

“What are you mumbling about, Harry?”

As Harry's thoughts wandered, two arms draped over his shoulders, and the familiar voices of the twins rang in his ears.

“Did I just hear you mention little Ronnie?”

The twins were in high spirits. With Percy’s situation resolved, not only had they avenged him, but his name had also been cleared. It was the kind of event worth celebrating.

“Yeah, I was just over there listening to him. I got some details from other people, but I thought hearing it from the source might be more accurate.”

“Oh, it’s very accurate, isn’t it, George!”

“Little Ronnie really pulled off something big. Quite impressive!”

Although they were speaking as if they were praising Ron, Harry could still detect the sarcasm in their tone.

“If only he hadn’t made us out to be clumsy idiots who'd get caught by Filch.”

“Then maybe we’d appreciate him more!”

The twins rolled their eyes in unison.

“Even though we did get caught once in our first year.”

“But that was because we underestimated Mrs. Norris, that blasted cat.”

“Since then, we’ve never been caught again.”

“That’s one of our most sacred Hogwarts secrets, Harry. Want to learn?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Harry replied half-heartedly. “But come on, what’s your real plan? Professor McGonagall just let you two off detention, didn’t she? Don’t tell me you’ve developed a fondness for mucking out the stables?”

“Please, don’t bring up ancient history,” Fred said, looking pained.

“We finally got the feeling of mashed potatoes out of our hands, and you’re reminding us it felt just like muck!” George grimaced, his face a little green at the thought. After all, mashed potatoes were a Hogwarts staple, served at nearly every meal.

“But we’ve come to you for something important!”

“Now that Percy’s situation is dealt with, it’s time for us to get busy.”

“We’ve got a big business venture.”

“Interested in hearing about it, Harry?”

“Come on, help out your poor brothers, Captain!”

“You’re our only hope, Captain!”

Since receiving the Nimbus 2000 from Harry as a Christmas gift, the twins had decided Harry was a glittering, golden leg they could latch onto.

“All right, go on,” Harry nodded.

“This way, please~”

“Watch your step—there’s a stair here~”

(End of chapter)