Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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"Very spirited, huh? Not bad at all!"

Despite being toyed with by Harry for quite some time, the little Thunderbird showed no signs of submission. As a proud sky ruler, even in its infancy, a Thunderbird wasn't something that could be easily tamed. Only someone like Rove, who had the perfect mix of timing, environment, and luck, could earn its favor.

While Rove couldn't currently hug or lift the baby Thunderbird without protection, that was only because of the electricity. If he could withstand the shocks, there'd be no issue at all. After hatching, the little bird had first seen its mother, Lightning itself, and the first person it laid eyes on was Rove, crouched nearby. To Neal, Rove was as good as its biological father.

As for Harry, who was only a godfather in name, gaining the Thunderbird's recognition was going to be a long journey.

After climbing out of the suitcase, the excited group found it impossible to sleep. They set up a grill for a late-night snack. Though they weren't particularly hungry, skipping Hufflepuff's traditional midnight feast was out of the question. A few skewers weren't enough to fill their stomachs, but paired with butterbeer, they made for the perfect accompaniment to hours of boasting and banter. It wasn't until nearly 2 a.m. that the dormitory finally fell silent.

By some mysterious design, the first day of classes at Hogwarts always seemed to fall on a Monday. For the Hufflepuffs, their first Monday morning class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, shared with the Ravenclaws.

"Harry, didn't you buy the textbook?"

As they finished washing up and prepared to head to the Great Hall for breakfast, one of the dormmates noticed Harry walking empty-handed, not even carrying a bag.

"Nope. I might have money to spare, but I'm not wasting it on children's books I'll never read," Harry replied nonchalantly.

At this, Neville and the others chuckled. The Daily Prophet had already reported the scene at Diagon Alley. Lockhart hadn't paid the reporters enough, and after weighing their options, they decided that the career boost from exposing the story was worth more than Lockhart's gold. The result was a sensational front-page headline.

"Aren't you worried Lockhart will dock points from you during class, Harry?"

"Afraid of him?" Harry shrugged. "If it weren't considered rude to skip the first class, I wouldn't even go. That guy's a fraud. I'd rather spend the time eating something decent in the kitchen."

"But isn't he famous?" Justin asked, puzzled. "I read his books, and his adventures sounded pretty incredible. He even took down a werewolf in a phone booth!"

"Pfft, you believe that?"

"Take a good look at Lockhart's scrawny arms and legs. I bet even Rove could beat him in a fight," Harry said with a smirk.

"Trust my judgment." He tapped his temple. "I'm a professional. Lockhart's body shows no signs of training. Taking down a werewolf? He'd get chased around by a kobold, let alone a werewolf."

"Oh!" Justin nodded, enlightened. Compared to Lockhart's flamboyance, he found Harry's words more convincing. "So, those stories are made up? I never imagined he might be a fraud."

"Let's hope he's not," Harry said with a sigh. "Otherwise, Defense Against the Dark Arts is going to be a disaster this year."

Chatting casually, the four of them strolled out of the common room. The Great Hall was already lively, filled with noise and laughter. Near the staff table, a large group of witches had gathered, excitedly chattering away.

"Let's hope their idol doesn't let us down," Rove said with a sour laugh. After Harry's comments the day before, Rove found himself daydreaming about a fulfilling older-woman relationship. However, he admitted it was unlikely at his current age—two years later, maybe, but for now, any older student would probably find his immaturity unappealing.

Unlike Grindelwald, Lockhart had chosen a classroom near the castle's central courtyard. The area, always bathed in vibrant flora, became a romantic retreat in the evenings, where couples strolled hand-in-hand, inhaling the fragrant air, and sought the sweetness of love.

As they passed through the courtyard, Harry noticed a skinny, gray-haired boy nervously glancing in his direction.

"Something on your mind?" Harry called out, waving to him. The boy flinched but, after hesitating, mustered his courage and walked over.

"H-hi, Harry," the boy stammered. Barely reaching Harry's chest, he looked like a timid squirrel standing before a towering bear.

"I'm Colin Creevey," the boy said, swallowing hard. Trembling slightly, he raised a film camera in his hands, looking at Harry with a mixture of awe and hope. "C-could I take your picture?"

"I think you're amazing! Almost everyone I've talked to has mentioned you," Colin rattled off in a rush, his words spilling out as if he feared he'd lose the nerve if he paused. "They said you escaped from You-Know-Who, you've performed miracles at Hogwarts, you're the greatest Quidditch player ever, and you even started your own g-gang!"

Blushing furiously, Colin stood there, breathless, as if he had just run a marathon. Seeing Harry in person had made him realize just how intimidating the boy-who-lived truly was.

Just from Harry's build alone, Colin had no doubt he could toss him up to hang from the castle eaves with one hand.

"Sure, want a photo together?"

After a moment of surprise, Harry grinned and nodded. He wasn't the type to eat people alive—if he wasn't busy, he was actually quite approachable.

"I'll take the picture!" Justin offered enthusiastically. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a Pentax K1000, isn't it?"

"Yeah!" Colin nodded gratefully and carefully removed the camera from around his neck, handing it to Justin.

"Alright, Harry, sit on this chair here. You're way too tall—next to you, Colin looks like a bean sprout. Sitting down will balance things out a bit."

"Though it still looks pretty awkward," Justin muttered with a smirk. "But whatever, we'll make do. Alright, look at the camera!"

With a satisfying click, Justin snapped the photo, handling the camera like a seasoned pro.

"Done! Colin, you should try developing it with the right potion later. I don't recommend brewing it yourself—it's too tricky. Peter Pan's Magical Photo Shop in Diagon Alley sells it. Five Sickles will get you a large bottle. If you're unsure about anything, feel free to ask me," Justin said, winking. "I spent a lot of my summer messing around with this stuff. Moving photos are so cool, right?"

"Yeah! Super cool!" Colin beamed, instantly bonding with Justin over their shared interest.

However, with class about to start, now wasn't the time for an extended chat.

"Could I get your autograph before you go, Harry?"

Realizing that Harry wasn't as unapproachable as he'd imagined, Colin spoke a bit louder this time, though he still sounded a bit nervous.

"An autograph?"

"Yeah! I was wondering if you could…"

"Who's asking for an autograph?"

A cheerful voice interrupted from behind them. Striding towards them in his turquoise-green robes was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. He had actually spotted them earlier through a window while Justin was taking the photo and hurried over.

"Oh, Harry!"

Lockhart greeted Harry as though just noticing him, speaking in an exaggeratedly enthusiastic tone. He reached out, as if to sling an arm around Harry's shoulder, but Harry sidestepped just enough to avoid him.

"Are you ready for today's class, Professor Lockhart?"

Harry's sharp gaze made Lockhart's smile falter for a moment, but the man quickly recovered. He gestured theatrically, performing a flourish that no one could decipher, and replied with a radiant grin.

"Of course! I guarantee this will be the best class you've ever attended. Bar none!"

"Now then, who was asking for an autograph?"

Seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation back to himself, Lockhart's eyes landed on Colin's camera.

"Ah, a signed photo, I presume? A photo with both of us—what a deal! Two stars for the price of one!"

"See you later, Colin. I've got to get to class," Harry said, cutting the moment short. With a casual wave, he left amidst Colin's profuse thanks, striding up the staircase.

Left standing awkwardly, Lockhart's smile twitched. It wasn't the first time Harry had brushed him off like this, but it still stung his ego. Yet, what could he do? No matter what, Harry's fame far eclipsed his own. Lockhart wouldn't admit it out loud, but deep down, he knew the truth all too well.

"Why are kids these days so hard to handle?"

Suppressing his irritation, Lockhart put on his signature smile, pulled out a pre-signed photograph of himself, and handed it to Colin with practiced flair. With that, he strode off confidently. His moment to shine was just around the corner.

(End of Chapter)