Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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During Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry found his mind wandering. Lupin was explaining the correct way to deal with a creature called a Swamp Mucker, a magical species commonly found in the wetlands of Europe and America. They had also occasionally been spotted in murky ponds.

The Swamp Mucker, resembling a piece of driftwood, had a particular fondness for attacking the lower legs. Careless wizards passing by often found their ankles clawed and fractured. The creature was also the natural predator of Mandrakes. Interestingly, the Mandrake's scream, which could kill a wizard, sounded like a soothing lullaby to the ears of a Swamp Mucker.

As Lupin spoke about the damage these creatures inflicted on Mandrakes, he mentioned how uprooted Mandrakes would often resemble nothing more than a bloody mass of mud after an attack. Professor Sprout was always particularly vigilant about this during June, the season when Mandrakes matured, as the Forbidden Forest contained swampy areas where Swamp Muckers were active.

"The next class this week will be a practical lesson," Lupin announced as the bell rang, clapping his hands to get the students' attention. "You won't need to come to the classroom. We'll meet at the dock by the Black Lake. Don't be late."

The students, buzzing with excitement, chirped among themselves before politely bidding Lupin farewell and leaving the classroom in groups.

"Harry, you seemed a little distracted today," Lupin said, patting Harry on the shoulder with a concerned look. "Is it about that incident?"

"No," Harry replied, glancing around the now-empty classroom. "I was just thinking about the Invisibility Cloak."

"Your father's cloak?" Lupin asked, puzzled as to why the cloak might be troubling Harry.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Professor Dumbledore told me that its invisibility is just a secondary feature, but he didn't have time to explain further before leaving with Hagrid for the dragon-taming exams."

"Riddles, always riddles," Harry said, throwing his hands up in exasperation before slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Anyway, I'll figure it out when he's back. If he finds out I was so distracted that I couldn't even focus in class, who knows if he'll laugh himself silly in the Headmaster's office."

Lupin was momentarily stunned but then couldn't help chuckling. "That does sound like Professor Dumbledore. He does enjoy being mysterious, especially when people struggle to figure out his riddles."

Hearing Harry's explanation, Lupin felt a bit more at ease.

"Well, I'd better be off," Harry said, waving goodbye. "The Order has things I need to take care of."

Just as Harry was about to leave the room, Lupin called out to him.

"Harry," Lupin said hesitantly, his expression conflicted.

"What is it, Uncle Lupin?" Harry paused, looking back with a puzzled expression. "Is there something else you need to tell me?"

"There is," Lupin admitted, gesturing for Harry to come closer. "I wasn't sure whether to tell you, but I think you should know."

"I've made contact with Sirius."

"And?" Harry asked, seemingly indifferent. He felt no particular attachment to Sirius. After all, even his feelings toward James, his supposed father, were distant. Sirius, a godfather he had never met, meant even less to him. To be honest, Harry felt closer to Snape, who cared for him unreservedly, almost as if he were his own son.

Lupin noticed the lack of emotion in Harry's response. While it was understandable, it still saddened him. James and Sirius had once been inseparable, like brothers. Fate, however, had played a cruel hand.

"Sirius went to North America," Lupin continued. "In his letter, he didn't say much, only that he was there to prepare a gift for you. But..." He hesitated briefly before adding, "I have a feeling things might not be that simple."

"Is he in trouble?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"No," Lupin shook his head. "But that's precisely why I suspect something. Even though we haven't seen each other in over a decade, some habits are hard to change."

"Trust me, Harry," Lupin said earnestly. "Your godfather cares deeply about you. He and your father were like brothers in every sense but blood. Their bond was one of complete, unreserved trust. Sirius cares about you more than you realize. I think he feels he owes you a lot, which is why he's gone so far away. It's definitely not because he doesn't want to see you."

Harry understood Lupin's point. "Even though I've never met him, I believe that once he's ready, he'll come to see me. He's one of my father's best friends and my godfather. Maybe he just needs some time."

"Should I write to Professor Grindelwald?" Harry mused. "I recall that the Grindelwald faction has a presence in North America. Their influence may not be as strong as in Europe, but it shouldn't be too hard to ask them to look into it."

"Professor Grindelwald?" Lupin was taken aback but quickly remembered that Grindelwald had taught at Hogwarts last year. "That... might work, but wouldn't it be too much trouble?"

"It's no trouble at all," Harry assured him. "I might even transfer to Durmstrang next year. Professor Grindelwald has already extended an invitation, and we get along quite well."

"Don't worry, Uncle Lupin," Harry added with a smile. "Sirius is probably fine. After all, you're still able to correspond with him, aren't you? If he were in real trouble, he wouldn't have the time to do that."

"You're right," Lupin sighed softly, his expression relaxing into a smile. "Maybe I'm just overthinking things."

After parting ways with Lupin, Harry stopped by the Great Hall for a quick meal. There were no classes scheduled for the rest of the afternoon. Hogwarts' curriculum wasn't overly packed, giving the young wizards plenty of free time.

For members of the Order, daily training had become second nature. Though magical body conditioning wasn't quick, it steadily improved their physical abilities. Even Cho, who had been delicate and frail, could now complete 40 pull-ups in under a minute. After enduring the grueling process of magical body training, physical activities became a welcome way to relax both mind and body.

By 4:30 p.m., most of the Quidditch team members had finished their afternoon classes and arrived at the training grounds. While they were no longer active members of the Order, they continued last year's training routines. Partly because they were accustomed to it, and partly because losing too badly in matches would be embarrassing.

Even Gryffindor's team, with three members from the Order, couldn't guarantee victory against Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

Draco, a new addition to the team this year, had been working hard to catch up to the senior members. Compared to the start of the school year, Draco had undergone a noticeable transformation. The trademark pale complexion of the Malfoy family wasn't impervious to sunlight. After over a month of intense training, he had developed a healthy tan.

His once-skinny limbs now showed faint muscle definition. At first, even the warm-up laps around the field left him utterly exhausted, requiring potions to recover. Now, a 3-kilometer warm-up run felt as effortless as drinking water.

In the magical world, the cost of physical training was low. Affordable and effective potions could counteract nearly all the negative effects of overexertion. All that was needed was the determination to endure the effort.

After three hours of high-intensity training, the sky outside had darkened. Though they missed the evening feast in the Great Hall, the Hogwarts kitchen always remained open for them. The house-elves, having learned Harry's recipes last year, could whip up meals that tasted even better than the traditional Hogwarts dinners.

"You've made great progress lately, Draco," someone commented.

On the way back, Harry and Draco chatted casually. Harry had noticed Draco's transformation, and their relationship had improved recently. There had never been any major conflicts between them, and they were getting along quite well. At least Draco no longer seemed as tense around Harry, and the sweat from their training seemed to have helped wash away some of the worries weighing on his mind. Every day of hard work brought him one step closer to his dream.

"Cedric's taught me a lot, but I'm planning to focus more on becoming a Seeker," Draco said with a grin, acknowledging the changes he'd noticed in himself—changes that had once seemed impossible.

"What, you're not enjoying playing Chaser anymore?"

"I mean, it's hard to compare," Draco replied, shrugging. As half his coach, Harry had seen Cedric's skills firsthand. Aside from Harry, Cedric was practically the perfect Seeker: sharp-eyed, quick-reacting, and skilled in flying. His dynamic vision far outstripped Draco's. Cedric's fastest time catching the Golden Snitch was 23 seconds—though luck played a part, it was still enough to leave Draco in awe.

"I want to play in the World Cup, but I don't want to just sit on the sidelines as a substitute. A change of position could work for me, but I'll need to build up my muscles. Playing Seeker requires physical strength to handle the contact."

Once Draco had clarified his goal, his plans and actions became clearer. Although he had been spoiled as a child, his position in the upper echelons of the wizarding world gave him a certain maturity. Compared to his peers, Draco's thinking was more refined—partly because his family didn't have to worry about the next meal, leaving him the freedom to look far ahead.

"Keep at it. I'm rooting for you," Harry said.

"Yeah!" Draco nodded and quietly added, "Thanks, Captain."

"Don't mention it. You've earned it through your own effort. Now, let's hurry up. We're way behind the others. I'm starving, and I want to catch the hot food."

Harry clapped Draco on the back as they picked up the pace, having fallen several meters behind the others.

"By the way, Captain, I've noticed something interesting."

Draco spoke mysteriously, a strange smile tugging at his lips.

"What's up?" Harry glanced at him, intrigued.

"It's about Cassandra."

"Oh? What's going on with her?"

"If I told you, my sister likes you..."

"No way, absolutely not!" Harry immediately waved his hands, as though fending off an invisible threat.

"This isn't a surprise—it's a shock, Draco!"

"Is it really that scary to be liked by a girl?" Draco asked, confused by Harry's reaction. "Could it be that you like... boys? Ow! Hey, that hurt!"

Draco clutched his head, wincing from the sharp blow Harry had delivered to his temple. The pain made his head ring, and he nearly staggered to the ground.

"I'm not interested in underage girls, and I definitely don't like men," Harry said, glaring at Draco with irritation. "What's going on in that brain of yours?"

"Well, if a girl under 5'7" is standing next to me, am I dating her, or is she my daughter?"

After hearing this, Draco looked up at his captain. Cassandra was a bit taller than he was, but still short enough that she probably wouldn't reach Harry's shoulders. After all, Draco had grown 8 inches in just a year, and Harry still had a good growth spurt ahead of him.

"That makes sense," Draco mumbled under his breath. "You couldn't possibly kiss someone unless you stood on a chair, right?"

"Ha! Well, if that happened, it might actually be pretty fun," Harry laughed, shaking his head. But the thought crossed his mind: it was possible. He had grown almost an inch since the start of the year. By the end of the school year, he would probably be over 6'5". And as much as he was happy with his physique, the weight was another issue. His muscle density was so high that he now weighed more than half of Hagrid—around 210 kilograms—and his bones and muscles were so strong, he was starting to look like a magical creature in human form.

"But how did you figure that out? Cassandra doesn't seem like the type to share those kinds of things," Harry asked, curious. "I've never seen her be nice to anyone."

"Of course she didn't tell me," Draco said, though there was a look of certainty on his face. "But she's definitely interested in you. It's the first time I've seen her ask about other guys—like when you come to practice, what you like to eat, and where you go after training."

"If she didn't care about you, why would she ask all that?"

"Such troublesome handsomeness," Harry sighed dramatically, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

'Looks like things are about to get serious,' Harry thought quickly. 'What kind of surprise are you planning for me, Nagini?'

'Just don't let it be a basilisk causing havoc at Hogwarts. That would be way too boring.'

(End of Chapter)