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Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

A.K. Rowling gives her wholehearted recommendation! The wizards have laid down their wands and taken up steel guns. Harry Potter’s forehead now bears a Glock-shaped scar. Wands made from holly, phoenix feathers, and basilisk fangs are relics of the past. Ebony and ivory entwine, as barrages of bullets light up the universe. Soaring above the Quidditch pitch, they ride Nimbus 2000 intercontinental missiles. Animagus powers have advanced yet again. The fusion of Alchemy Armor has given rise to the second form of the Animagus. Super Cat Professor McGonagall makes a dazzling entrance! But this is not the end. Dumbledore, having set aside the Elder Wand, reignites the Phoenix Flame. A spear of fire forged from molten gold reveals the third Animagus evolution. War is on the horizon—against the Abyss, demon races, and even civilizations from beyond the stars. All this and more awaits in *Hogwarts School of Magical Warfare*! ***** Support me and be 20 chapters ahead of webnovel: patreon.com/Draco_

Draco_ · 書籍·文学
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143 Chs

Chapter 68: If It Were Me Back Then, Harry, You'd Be Dead

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*****

"You seem to be expecting something," Harry asked Grindelwald after turning to face him.

"Didn't you… see anything at all?" Grindelwald looked slightly surprised. He had encountered people who were content and desired nothing before, but he had never seen an eleven or twelve-year-old boy reach that point. At that age, children usually had countless dreams and desires.

"This is the Mirror of Erised, right? I saw the inscription. It's a mirror that reflects the heart's deepest desires. There are even legends about it in the Muggle world. I remember hearing bedtime stories about it when I was younger. Once, Dudley wished to see me wet myself, and I gave him a good beating for it."

Harry chuckled at the memory. Dudley had been such fun when they were younger, always coming up with ideas that earned him a punch or two. But as they grew older, perhaps after so many "lessons," Dudley had calmed down a lot.

"Though this isn't quite what I expected, it's good news for me. It proves my choice was right."

Grindelwald smiled in satisfaction. He rose from his chair, walking around the desk to stand beside Harry.

"You're not like those little brats who just play around. The moment you told me about your idea of forming a battalion, I knew it—you're just like I was when I was younger. We walk the same path."

"Age is nothing but an unnecessary label. It can't stop anomalies like us from shining. But you're luckier than I was, Harry. I didn't have such a good teacher back then. Durmstrang expelled me, but that's also how I met Albus."

"People like us don't need others to plan our lives for us because no one can truly understand what we want."

"Not even Albus. He can't."

"Still, don't be too hard on your headmaster. He's just a fool who likes worrying about others. He never intended to harm you. After all, before you came to Hogwarts, he had no idea what kind of person you truly were."

Grindelwald gave Harry's shoulder a comforting pat, speaking gently on Dumbledore's behalf.

"Of course. I don't really know what Professor Dumbledore has planned, but I trust you, Professor."

"If Albus heard you say that, he'd be heartbroken," Grindelwald laughed heartily. "I'm only teaching you for one year. After that, I'm gone. You should transfer to Durmstrang—it's far more interesting than Hogwarts."

"If Professor Dumbledore heard you say that, he'd be heartbroken too," Harry replied, his eyes meeting Grindelwald's.

They both burst into laughter at the same time.

"Alright, alright. Since I've intervened, let's pretend none of this happened. I'll tell you what Albus intends, and afterward, you can decide for yourself what you want to do."

"It's about Voldemort, isn't it?"

"Of course."

Grindelwald shrugged. Harry wasn't surprised—after all, he was the Boy Who Lived. He must've heard that title so many times by now that it was almost a curse. In the entertainment-starved wizarding world, most witches and wizards loved to prattle on about old stories like broken records.

"Though I look down on him a bit, I have to admit that when it comes to the use of Dark Magic, that man is a twisted genius—an extraordinary one. Unfortunately, he chose a path different from mine, and unquestionably the wrong one. Instead of mastering Dark Magic, he allowed himself to become a slave to it."

"Someone like him may be powerful, but that's all there is to it. His twisted, cowardly heart can't even face Albus head-on. A man like that, no matter how strong, will never achieve anything significant."

"Reality has already proven me right. While we can afford to underestimate him strategically, we must take him seriously on a tactical level. Voldemort—Tom Riddle—is a tricky problem, especially since he created Horcruxes, making him a maddeningly difficult monster to kill."

As a master of Dark Magic and the foremost Seer in the world, it wasn't surprising that Grindelwald knew about Horcruxes. Prophecy, with its almost surreal and fantastical nature, was a powerful and dangerous tool.

Even a half-baked Seer like Trelawney earned Dumbledore's serious attention—so naturally, Grindelwald, a true Seer, was in a different league entirely.

"And you, Harry, are the one Albus believes is best suited to hunt down this rabid dog."

"Because inside you lies a piece of his shattered soul. That lunatic split his soul six times, breaking it into seven fragments. While the piece inside you was an accident, the fact that he achieved it at all is remarkable."

"Even Herpo the Foul, the creator of Horcruxes, never managed that. He split his soul three times, and while preparing his fourth, he accidentally killed himself."

"Now, do you see your importance, Harry?" Grindelwald returned to his seat, interlacing his fingers and looking at Harry calmly.

"So, you mean that as long as I'm alive, Voldemort can't die?"

"Of course he can die. How could there be anyone truly unkillable?" Grindelwald smirked disdainfully. "I can't predict the locations of his Horcruxes because Dark Magic shields him. Herpo the Foul was once considered the most vile, evil, and despicable Dark wizard. He single-handedly took Dark Magic from a little-known field to the widespread knowledge it is today."

"Herpo was the pioneer and leader of Dark Magic, and his Horcruxes were the culmination of all his magical knowledge. Enshrouded by such profound darkness, I can only foresee their number, not their precise locations."

"If it had been me tasked with killing Voldemort instead of Albus, I would have destroyed him while he was still a wraith ten years ago and waited for his resurrection. I can't foresee where the Horcruxes are, but I can predict his movements. Killing him once wouldn't matter—I'd kill him six more times if necessary."

Grindelwald glanced at Harry, his expression unwavering.

"If he had crossed paths with me back then, I would have waited until the final time he tried to resurrect through you—and then killed you both together."

Grindelwald grinned without a trace of hesitation. A chill crept up Harry's spine. Grindelwald meant every word. If it had been him instead of Dumbledore, that's exactly what he would have done.

"You scared me, Professor," Harry admitted.

When Harry heard about his supposed "death sentence," he wasn't particularly unsettled. If he were in Grindelwald's shoes, he'd likely do the same. "If you don't cut the weeds down to the roots, they'll grow back with the spring breeze." If Voldemort was a threat that had to be eliminated, then sacrificing someone unrelated to himself wouldn't matter. After all, Harry wasn't Grindelwald's son—so what if he had to be sacrificed?

In some ways, Harry and Grindelwald were kindred spirits.

"You? Scared? Yeah, right," Grindelwald scoffed, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. "Anything else you want to ask? Get it all out today."

After a brief moment of thought, Harry voiced his curiosity. "Professor, if Voldemort were to resurrect from the Horcrux inside me, would the piece of his soul just jump out, or would he take over my body?"

"Neither," Grindelwald replied.

"To put it simply, a Horcrux is a vessel that preserves part of a soul, nearly indestructible by most magic or weapons. When a Horcrux is made, the creator imbues it with a significant amount of magical power. After resurrection, the soul inside relies on that stored power to stabilize a ghostly form before finding a way to rebuild its body."

"Although they're dead and reduced to soul fragments, those fragments are still alive in a way—very different from ghosts. This is precisely why a Horcrux can help bring someone back to life after a new body is created. Essentially, they never really died, just continued living in the form of shattered soul pieces."

"The piece of Voldemort's soul inside you would absorb your magic and drain your life force. Everything about you would be consumed as fuel for his resurrection. Once the Horcrux is activated, you're as good as dead."

Grindelwald paused for a moment, hesitating. "Or maybe not entirely. If your soul is strong enough, it might overpower the fragment and destroy it instead, turning it into your own nourishment. After all, the fragment inside you wasn't created in the usual way. Compared to a typical Horcrux, it's much weaker."

As he spoke, Grindelwald's expression shifted slightly, as if something had occurred to him.

"Your mother, Lily Potter—I've heard Albus mention her before. She left behind a powerful magic inside you... hmm."

"That protection might sever most of the connections between Voldemort's soul and yours, particularly his ability to draw from your life force and gather strength."

"If that's the case..." Grindelwald's lips curled into a mysterious smile. "Well, that would certainly make things interesting."

(End of Chapter)