Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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Although curfew had already begun, the path from the Hufflepuff common room to the kitchen was one place where no professor would conduct surprise patrols.

Even the most dreaded Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, and his cat, Mrs. Norris, wouldn't venture here after curfew.

Hufflepuffs had a special connection to the kitchen, established by Helga Hufflepuff herself, whose house-elf companion had been at Hogwarts since its founding. This unwritten rule, never formally included in the school regulations, had persisted over the centuries. Attempts to revoke this privilege had all failed, as those who tried soon reconsidered.

After all, the house-elves would no longer provide meticulous housekeeping services, beloved foods would vanish from the dining tables, and even beverages like pumpkin juice or lemonade might be spiked with lethal amounts of Hufflepuff-style vinegar. While house-elves were unquestionably loyal to Hogwarts, their deeper loyalty lay with Helga Hufflepuff. Most of the elves working in the kitchen today were her descendants.

After chatting with the Fat Friar past midnight, Harry went to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Rubbing his full stomach, he strolled through the eerily quiet Hogwarts castle with light steps.

Although the Fat Friar had shared a wealth of information about that senior student, most of it amounted to gossip and trivia—hardly useful regarding the Awakened. This was unsurprising, as only those of the same kind could recognize the unique traits of an Awakened.

Among the things Harry had learned about Sirthralis, one resonated with him: the notion that he wasn't entirely human. Harry could somewhat empathize with this. As the leader of a group undergoing magical body refinement, he had noticed distinct differences between himself and others after months of training.

While others used magic to enhance their bodies, Harry's progress outpaced theirs by three to five times, with effects far greater. Autumn was the first to notice this. Her body adapted well to magical fusion, experiencing minimal pain, and her progress was the fastest in the group. Even so, it took her nearly a month to refine her hands. In contrast, Harry accomplished this in just over a week, even before discovering the proper techniques.

In terms of strength, if Harry could crush a coconut with his bare hands, Autumn might manage a walnut. While biological differences between genders played a role, the gap remained significant.

As his magical refinement advanced, Harry also noticed heightened sensory abilities. He could hear a broader range of frequencies, detect fainter sounds, and identify the exact spices in his food. His color perception sharpened to the point where he could distinguish subtle variations between different batches of the same lipstick shade—an ability rare among boys.

This made him feel as though he was evolving, transitioning from human to something more superhuman. Humanity had sacrificed much to develop intelligent brains, yet it seemed Harry was reclaiming abilities long discarded.

He couldn't help but wonder what non-human changes Sirthralis had undergone to prompt his claim of not being human.

Hogwarts was vast. Even without interruptions, exploring the entire castle in one night was nearly impossible. Though it appeared no wider than 500-600 meters, its interior was expansive enough to fit several Hogwarts-sized castles, thanks to the extensive use of space-expanding magic like the Undetectable Extension Charm.

If Dumbledore ever decided to host a marathon entirely within the castle, there'd be no need to move the event to the outdoor grounds. Students could simply run a few laps around the outermost corridors, and the race would be complete.

This spatial complexity explained the unusually long breaks between classes—30 minutes to an hour wasn't just for restroom breaks. The popularity of secret passages also made sense.

The Fat Friar's directions had been clear: at the end of a corridor, there should be a decoration resembling a grandfather clock. To access the secret room, a password related to clocks and stars was required.

Though this setup was over a century old, Harry doubted it would be hard to find. Decorations at Hogwarts rarely changed; many tapestries and paintings had remained untouched for centuries. Even students from a thousand years ago could navigate the castle with ease.

Unfortunately, Harry's luck was slightly lacking. Despite two hours of purposeful wandering, he couldn't find the specified location or object. He encountered a few grandfather clocks, but none fit the description.

Fortunately, students wandering at night often stumbled upon unexpected surprises.

Our mischievous and whimsical Peeves made a dramatic entrance, accidentally bumping into Harry at a corner. Startled, Peeves bolted. Though he often called Harry "Boss" in jest, Peeves was never one to engage unless absolutely necessary.

Knowing when to yield is wise, and Peeves prided himself on his flexibility. However, he had no intention of interacting with Harry again. After all, Harry was the only person in Hogwarts' history who had ever caught him midair with bare hands. Even Peeves' mother—wait, Peeves didn't have a mother. Never mind.

"Why are you running?"

With a leap off the wall for momentum, Harry grabbed Peeves midair and pulled him down, giving him a faint smile. In a calm, friendly voice, he asked, "Aren't we good friends, Peeves?"

"Boss, boss!"

After a couple of squawking chicken noises, Peeves plastered a bright, cheerful smile on his face and greeted Harry in a singsong voice.

"You're out enjoying the moonlight too, Boss? It's such a lovely, round moon tonight! I know a perfect spot for moonbathing. Shall I take you there?"

"Relax, Peeves. I'm not going to eat you," Harry replied, releasing his grip and straightening Peeves' slightly askew hat with a pat.

This small gesture seemed to soothe Peeves somewhat, though his awkward stance—legs clamped together—resembled someone in desperate need of a restroom.

"I need your help with something."

"No problem, Boss! Leave it to me! Nobody knows Hogwarts like Peeves. Even those house-elves don't know as much as I do. They call me the Great Peeves Encyclopedia of Hogwarts. Ask away!"

Rubbing his hands eagerly, Peeves grinned as Harry's expression turned satisfied. Then, cautiously, he asked, "So, uh, Boss, can I go back to sleep now? You know, I'm just worried about your dark circles. You need your rest, after all."

Although Harry had withdrawn the chaotic, dark force that made up his Obscurial presence, the brief contact had chilled Peeves to his core. The pure malevolent energy had left him feeling utterly exposed and defenseless, as though his very essence might dissipate.

Even though curfew had started, the path from the Hufflepuff common room to the kitchens was free of patrols, even from the ever-dreaded Argus Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris.

The bond between Hufflepuffs and the kitchens went back to Hogwarts' founding. Helga Hufflepuff herself was said to have worked alongside the first house-elves, establishing an unspoken tradition: this part of the castle was off-limits to interference. Attempts to revoke this privilege were swiftly thwarted. House-elves, loyal to Hogwarts but even more so to Helga, would withhold their exceptional service, sabotage meals, and ensure life became inconvenient for the perpetrators until the matter was dropped.

After a chat with the Fat Friar that went past midnight, Harry indulged in a late-night snack in the kitchens and wandered through the empty halls of Hogwarts, his steps light and his thoughts preoccupied.

While the Fat Friar had shared tales about an alumnus named Serthilaris Scrooge, most of it was lighthearted gossip with little relevance to Harry's main interest: awakening magic. It made sense—only those with similar abilities could truly perceive an Awakened one.

Harry found himself reflecting on something Serthilaris had said about being "inhuman." Harry could relate. As the leader of a group practicing magical body strengthening, he noticed stark differences in his progress compared to others.

Cho Chang, for example, had a natural affinity for merging magic with her body and was the fastest in the group. Yet, what took her a month to achieve, Harry had mastered in just over a week without even discovering shortcuts. The gap in strength was undeniable—where Harry could crush a coconut, Cho might barely manage a walnut. Though gender differences played a role, the disparity was unmistakable.

As his magical strengthening advanced, Harry's senses grew sharper. He could hear faint sounds, distinguish subtle flavors, and even perceive tiny differences in lipstick shades—things most boys would overlook.

This evolution felt less like becoming superhuman and more like reclaiming abilities humanity had sacrificed for intelligence. The thought of what changes Serthilaris had undergone piqued Harry's curiosity. What could have prompted him to describe himself as "possibly not human"?

Despite its deceptive size, Hogwarts was vast. Walking the entire castle in one night was nearly impossible. The castle's magical expansions allowed it to contain multiple Hogwarts-sized spaces within its walls. It was no wonder classes had lengthy breaks between periods or why secret passageways were so abundant.

The Fat Friar's directions were clear: a corridor ending in a grandfather clock held the key to a secret room, which could be accessed by solving a riddle involving stars and time. Though the decor had changed little over centuries, finding the exact spot proved challenging. Harry wandered purposefully for hours but found only the wrong clocks.

Thankfully, Hogwarts nights had a way of presenting surprises around corners.

The mischievous Peeves appeared unexpectedly, and, startled, darted away like a spooked ghost. Despite his usual deference, calling Harry "big bro" out of fear, Peeves was clearly unwilling to deal with him again—especially after Harry had once caught him mid-air with his bare hands.

"Why are you running, Peeves?" Harry called, leaping off a wall to grab Peeves effortlessly. With a calm smile and a playful tone, he added, "Aren't we friends, Peeves?"

"Of course, big bro! Absolutely!" Peeves cackled nervously, putting on his most radiant grin. "You're out enjoying the moonlight too, eh? I know a lovely moonlit spot. Shall I take you there?"

Harry chuckled and straightened Peeves' crooked hat. "Relax, Peeves. I won't eat you. I just need some information."

Reluctantly, Peeves admitted he might know the place Harry described: a corridor ending in a grandfather clock. After some hesitation, Peeves led Harry to a hidden corner on the third floor. Behind a set of stairs stood an old cabinet-like structure.

"Here you go, big bro," Peeves muttered, nervously tugging at his clothing. "If it's about him, this is the place."

After thanking Peeves, Harry examined the area. Though dimly lit, the clock's casing was relatively clean, likely due to the diligent house-elves. He adjusted the clock's three hands to midnight, the "end and beginning of each day." Below the hands lay a faded star map with three small pointers, which he aligned to 10:55 as instructed.

With a faint click, the gears whirred to life, unlocking a hidden door. As the wooden panel swung open, black and silver letters appeared on its surface, glowing faintly with magic.

"Knock three times and push inward from the hinges," Harry read aloud.

The magical writing was only visible to those with awakened powers, explaining why the Fat Friar trusted Harry to find the room. Following the instructions, Harry let his companion, a shadowy entity he called "Momo," enter first to check for traps.

Satisfied that the room was safe, Harry stepped inside, Momo transforming into a black cloak that wrapped around him protectively.

The room seemed empty at first glance, but Harry's awakened vision revealed otherwise. One wall shimmered like crystal, reflecting his image, while at the center of the room, a black-silver vortex swirled ominously.

It was a sight both familiar and foreboding.

(End of Chapter)