Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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Invaluable insights, a sudden realization!

Up until today, Harry had subconsciously forgotten one important thing: there is a serious "information gap" in the magical world.

When Harry was at Hogwarts, he always thought that Fred and George were full of bizarre yet brilliant ideas. But as he gradually encountered the broader magical world outside, his understanding of it deepened.

For example, Fred and George had already started developing—and had made some progress on—a portable movie player. This device, a more advanced version of 3D magical imaging, had been invented years ago. However, there had been no news of it in England.

Perhaps Grindelwald didn't want to interfere with Dumbledore's "territory," or perhaps for some other reason, but in Europe, outside of Paris (where Nicolas Flamel was based), areas not controlled by the Pure-Blood Party were tightly sealed off by traditionalist forces. These places were essentially isolated zones, where witches and wizards were unable to learn much about the world outside. The low wages here actually limited many people's ability to travel and experience the world.

Although wizards could theoretically use Apparition and other magical means to travel anywhere at any time, or could use magic to effortlessly acquire resources for survival—such as expelling Muggles temporarily to take over their luxurious mansions or living a comfortable life through magic—such feats weren't easily achieved by just any wizard.

Do not be fooled by the European magical world, which was once considered by Bear Dezheng to be the "novice zone." A Hogwarts graduate was regarded as a high-quality talent here. However, even such talented individuals would often become inept after a few years in the Ministry of Magic, unable to even perform a basic Shield Charm. Furthermore, not all wizards in the magical world came from Hogwarts.

For those who did not receive an acceptance letter from Hogwarts, their options were far more limited. The many obscure magical academies and training schools became their main choices. Although it would be unjust to claim that none of these people had any talent—after all, Hogwarts' admission standards were not based on intelligence but on the level of magical power—this form of selection wasn't always accurate.

Without access to quality resources and the guidance of expert professors, wizards graduating from less reputable institutions simply lacked the solid foundation of their Hogwarts counterparts. Unless they were prodigies relying on innate talent to survive in harsh environments, this was a widespread reality.

Could you expect these wizards to use magic freely in the Muggle world without being detected by the Ministry of Magic?

It wouldn't even require an Auror's intervention. The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office could issue you an owl with a fine. If you refuse the punishment, many people, including Aurors, would invite you for a "chat."

As for other matters, one thing is certain: the Ministry of Magic is an expert when it comes to issuing fines. Do you know Diagon Alley's secret alleyway? It's right next to the black market—what kind of black market dares to operate so close to the most bustling commercial street in the wizarding world? Unless, of course, it's an official black market, one that collects taxes.

The Ministry of Magic in England operates in both the legal and illegal markets without hesitation.

Maintaining the magical world's current closed-off state greatly benefits the traditionalist regime. They've been using the "foolish commoner" policy since the Middle Ages, and they continue to do so today. They've deliberately created an environment where the cost of living is incredibly low, but anything beyond food and basic needs, such as owning a personal rocket for transportation, is considered a luxury. Household rockets are not some high-end vehicles; they can be handmade by wizards themselves. Even if they're not as good as the commercially available models, riding one in the sky isn't particularly difficult.

A rocket is basically just a bicycle—at best, an electric bike. But if even a non-luxury, consumer-grade bicycle costs you at least a month or two of wages, something's wrong, right?

The low cost of living allows wizards to survive without legitimate jobs, without needing to interfere with Muggles and take risks to engage in troublesome activities. Meanwhile, the high costs of entertainment and leisure quickly drain their pockets. The best graduates from Hogwarts either join the Ministry of Magic or work for wealthy capitalists. When they're out of money, the desire to earn becomes the best motivator—even without a whip, people will scream out for it.

With the added information isolation, people are unable to look beyond their immediate world. So even though magical innovation has been ongoing for fifteen years, in this place where conservative forces are deeply rooted, people still know very little about the outside world.

But Harry understood that the blindfold hiding their eyes was soon going to be torn off. Time wouldn't wait long. Perhaps in the next few years, before the war in the Abyss begins, someone will rip away the curtain that obscures their view. People will awaken in anger, their eyes opened to the world outside, and the long-standing corrupt cancer of the magical world will be burned to ashes in a great fire.

After the fire, the reborn magical world will welcome a new order—and new leaders.

What led Harry to realize this wasn't an owl from Grindelwald, but something he learned from his uncle's words—those who had embraced magical innovation in their lives.

For example… a high-fidelity life-size butler! No, not that… Although a maid is a wonderful thing, a woman can only influence the speed at which a sword is drawn. What's more, this was a mannequin, right?

But still, this business was indeed thriving.

In fact, it was more than just that. Harry had even arranged for Fred and George to come for some training during the holiday. Harry had plenty of things to keep him busy, but as part of the R&D division, having the twins take on this task was a perfect fit.

Their brilliant minds, when exposed to truly groundbreaking ideas—those that broke free from outdated, decaying norms—could certainly spark some incredible inspiration.

Harry was very curious about what kind of creative bursts might emerge.

Learning to shape the process of illusory will wasn't difficult. Harry himself had dedicated much effort to Transfiguration. If things went according to plan, he would begin studying Animagus transformation over the holiday. While his experience was still limited, his grasp of magical control and theoretical knowledge was just as solid as that of any seventh-year student. His strong foundation gave him the confidence to attempt this advanced form of Transfiguration.

In Africa, particularly in Wagadou, there were wizards as young as fourteen or fifteen who were already proficient in Animagus transformation. Although this was partially due to their unique magical system, it also showed that Animagus transformation was a high-level magic that could be mastered by that age.

Peter Pettigrew managed to complete it at fifteen with his father's help. If someone like him could do it, why couldn't Harry?

As Harry walked down the stone-paved road from the mountain and into the bustling night market, he felt drained, his legs heavy and weak. When he spotted his Uncle Tian sitting next to a large jar of alcohol, Harry didn't hesitate. He plopped down in front of him and grabbed a handful of skewered meat to shove into his mouth.

"Did your uncle catch you and give you a spanking? You look like you've been chased all over the mountain, running in circles until you're completely worn out. What happened?" Uncle Tian asked, his voice full of teasing.

Harry mumbled with his mouth full, "I ran into a female fairy up there… drained me dry."

"Oh~ oh~" Uncle Tian drew out the words, clearly mocking him. "If there were female fairies on the mountain, I would have scared them off long ago. Why else would I have been single for ninety years? There's probably not even a female mosquito on that mountain who would dare stay there. With that Amita Buddha-like aura I have, the moment a spirit touches me, it'd turn to dust."

"Cough, cough, cough…" Harry almost choked on the description. After a few desperate gulps of the wine, he managed to recover some strength and finally felt a bit more energized.

The meat, though from some unknown magical creature, was tasty but nothing extraordinary. The wine, however, was excellent. It was rich and intense, yet carried a fresh bamboo fragrance, with a hint of a cooling spring hidden within the heat. One sip and it revived the senses.

"Good wine!" Harry exclaimed, setting the empty cup down and savoring the aftertaste.

"My uncle brews it, and it's famous around the village," Uncle Tian said proudly, patting his chest. He then poured Harry another cup, filling it from the jar. "It's good, but drink in moderation—no more than five pounds. That's two cups at most. Even a bear would be knocked out after that."

"Here, try my last bottle of rare wine. It's from a hunting competition in the Soviet Union. This is the last one left, so give it a taste."

"Whoa! Vodka, and with a golden rim! I don't think I've had this before!"

Uncle Tian, holding the bottle, paused suddenly as he read the label. "What the hell? Ninety-nine percent? Is this pure alcohol?"

"Yeah, but it's not bad," Harry shrugged, finishing off the panda spirit brew in his bamboo cup in one go.

"Oh, so that one percent is just for flavoring the pure alcohol, huh?" Uncle Tian said, sounding doubtful. He opened the cap, poured half a cup into a large mug, and then bit into a sizzling piece of pork belly, swallowing it down with the drink.

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

"I'll be damned, I believe you now!"

Although Harry wasn't wrong, the vodka, which was almost pure alcohol, had that unique taste due to the one percent added, but the sensation was like swallowing molten lava. It nearly set his whole body on fire.

"Who the hell would drink this? It's more like something you'd use to prepare for cremation!"

"You can drink it if you want, but I'm out."

After passing the bottle back, Harry didn't waste time. He took another swig straight from the bottle, and in seconds, two-thirds of it was gone.

Harry snapped his fingers, and a tiny flame sparked at his fingertip. He blew out, and the fire serpent that flared briefly was the last trace of the vodka in the world.

"What else?" Harry asked, glancing up.

Uncle Tian, who had been staring wide-eyed, silently shut his mouth. He then picked up a nearby jar of alcohol and handed it to Harry. "Here, it's on you. If you need more, I can always grab some more from the house."

"Thanks, Uncle Tian," Harry grinned. He then waved at the vendor in the back. "Hey, do you have a longer straw? And bring me another twenty pounds of that big meat skewer, extra spicy, please!"

"No straws, but I'll get you a bamboo one!" The vendor quickly waved his hand, and a green flying sword soared into the sky. Moments later, it returned with a three-foot-long bamboo stalk. After splitting it open at the joints, he handed it over as the perfect straw.

In Panda Village, even the barbecue vendors were surprisingly skilled and full of hidden talents. Maybe that's their way of showing their love for peace?

After eating and drinking, Harry rubbed his stomach and hopped onto Uncle Tian's bamboo flying boat to head back home. But this time…

"There are no female fairies on the mountain," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes in disbelief, "but there's one inside."

As he watched the enchanting vision of a beautiful woman in luxurious satin robes gracefully approach him, Harry's jaw nearly dropped. Behind her, Tian's wife, who had been smiling ever so kindly at Harry as he left, gave a subtle nod. This was her surprise, the masterpiece she'd prepared after Harry had left.

"Do you think it looks good?" The woman, turning gently, let the embroidered cloud pattern of her blue and silver dress swirl delicately with the movement.

"Much better than any fairy." Harry couldn't help but blurt out, not thinking.

"Fairy?!" The woman's brow furrowed, her face darkening. She reached out and grabbed Harry's ear. "Where did you go just now?"

"It's not what you think! Wait, wait, let me explain!" Harry stammered, his face turning red.

"Look at this. You see? You see, don't you, son?" Uncle Tian, still serious, turned to his son and said, "What man doesn't have a little rebellion in him? Let me tell you, being rebellious doesn't mean being afraid of your wife. It means you love her, got it?"

"But Dad, you really can't beat Mom."

"You little brat! Want to fight?!"

(End of Chapter)