Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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"I didn't expect things to have been so tough for you these past years, Remus."

The once-hot tea had cooled, and after hearing about Remus's recent years, Hagrid sighed with pity. He gave Remus's shoulder another light pat, this time much softer than before.

"Still, now that you're here at Hogwarts, as long as you put in the effort, things will surely get better."

"It'll be time for dinner soon. How about I go out into the forest and find something for us to eat? We can skip the Great Hall and have dinner here instead?"

"That'll have to wait until tomorrow, Hagrid," Harry said, finishing the last bite of a rock-hard sandwich made from rock-bread. He patted Hagrid's arm. "Tonight, our Professor Lupin is making his grand debut, and we're all eager to see him."

"True enough!"

Hagrid chuckled warmly and nodded. "In that case, I'll go bring some fresh ingredients to the kitchens. Tonight, we're having a feast!"

"Go ahead, Hagrid. By the way, is Fenrir behaving these days?"

"Of course, he's being as good as gold. The wolves in the forest nearly tore him apart, though. Pomfrey had to keep reattaching his hands and feet every few days, but don't worry, I made sure they left him alive for you. The bastard deserves to die!"

Hagrid grabbed his giant hunting bow from the shelf, poked his head out the window, and yelled. The groggy Norbert woke up, wagging his tail excitedly at the prospect of a hunt. His tail thumped the ground, making a loud noise.

"Looks like we're headed out then."

Harry waved to Hagrid, then walked out of the hut with Lupin, heading toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Behind a thicket of bushes, standing upright, was a wooden post with a crossbeam nailed across it, forming the shape of a crude cross. A steel nail about a foot long pierced through the shoulder blade and pelvis of a burly man, pinning his body to the post.

The man's once-muscled body was now barely recognizable, covered in blood-soaked wounds and bruises. Because of him, a young wizard who should have had a happy childhood had become a feared and hunted werewolf. Rejected by his family, the boy was nearly killed, only finding refuge in the Forbidden Forest, where Hogwarts had provided them with sanctuary.

Fenrir's arrival shattered the werewolves' fragile peace in the forest. Over the past several days and nights, they had tried everything to vent their pent-up rage at the cause of their misery, until exhaustion forced them to end the wild revenge.

"Hey, wake up."

Harry kicked Fenrir, who still had a faint pulse. His strong body, far beyond that of an ordinary man, made it nearly impossible for him to die under the right conditions.

"You think playing dead will make me let you go?"

Harry pulled out a bottle of aged dragon's blood whiskey. The vodka had been drained already, and all he could get from Hogsmeade were wizarding liquors. Though it had a lower proof, it wasn't bad for a casual drink.

The amber liquid, infused with the distinct smell of dragon's blood, poured over Fenrir's wounds. The scabs that had just formed were washed away, and the alcohol, mixed with the dragon's blood, shocked the numbed wound awake. The intense, searing pain caused Fenrir to open his bloodshot yellow eyes.

The madness and defiance that had filled his gaze were now replaced with a brief flash of weakness, as if the once utterly antisocial madman couldn't endure the torment any longer, the product of days of furious, vengeful torture from the wolves.

He had probably died dozens of times already. But as long as someone didn't want him dead, he had no choice but to keep living.

"Looks like you've had a nice little vacation."

After Fenrir regained consciousness, Harry, sticking to his principle of not wasting anything, finished the remaining half of the bottle in one go.

"But they did a really poor job here. Even skinning you, such a simple task, and they messed it up this badly." Harry glanced at the ground near Fenrir's body, where fragments of skin lay scattered. "If it were me, I'd start from your back, cut along the spine with a small knife, and carefully separate the layers."

"Only a complete pelt is worth keeping, right? There's probably no one in the world who truly collects werewolf pelts. I'd time it for the full moon, when your vitality is at its peak. I wouldn't even need to waste a pricey healing potion on you."

"But for now, drink this."

Harry pulled out a potion bottle that Fenrir knew all too well—this was the life-saving elixir that had pulled him back from the brink of death dozens of times. But now, this very potion had become his nightmare.

Fenrir, who had been staring blankly, suddenly began to struggle. Even though moving caused the steel nails embedded in his body to tear his wounds open again, sending waves of unbearable pain through him, he still didn't give up.

"Not going to open your mouth?"

Harry smiled as he punched Fenrir in the mouth, knocking out his teeth, and poured the potion into his throat.

Fenrir immediately began to roll his eyes and convulse. It seemed as though he would pass out any second, but the rapidly healing wounds on his body indicated that his life was secure for now.

His hoarse voice slowly became louder and clearer. The desperate howls he let out were not because of the pain but because he foresaw the horrific scene he was about to face. The werewolves wouldn't ease their torment just because of his miserable cries. In fact, his struggles would only heighten their excitement.

"You don't regret biting all those people, all those children, do you?"

"You only regret that you should have hidden better, that you shouldn't have been caught by me."

As Fenrir begged for mercy, Harry spoke to him with a calm, almost cheerful tone.

"But today, the one playing games with you isn't me. It's Lupin."

"Do you remember him? Do you remember what you did twenty-eight years ago?"

Harry stepped aside, giving the stage to Lupin, who quietly walked forward and stood before the frenzied, howling Fenrir.

Lupin's expression was unreadable as he gazed at the man before him. His face was emotionless, but his pupils trembled violently, shrinking to the size of pinpricks.

As the intense stare continued, Fenrir gradually began to calm. He seemed to realize that Lupin was not like the others, not someone driven by madness. With a trembling voice, he finally spoke, pleading, "Kill me, please, whoever you are, just kill me."

Lupin drew his wand—not a wand at all, but a Beretta M92 semi-automatic pistol. The weapon's graceful lines contrasted with the more rigid Glock designs, its curves giving it a sleek, understated beauty. A silver wolf was etched into the grayish-silver barrel, its details refined.

Lupin raised the gun, aiming directly at Fenrir's heart. Fenrir, seeing the gun aimed at him, broke into a smile of relief. He seemed to envision Death itself, approaching with its scythe, and he welcomed it—no matter if it was Hell or anywhere else, he was eager to go.

But no green light came. Instead, Lupin coldly and clearly uttered the incantation—"Heart-piercing and bone-shattering!"

The pain that had accumulated over twenty-eight years was not something that could be easily released. The more Lupin felt the sweetness of the present, the more he loathed everything Fenrir had done.

His parents! His life! Everything had been destroyed by this werewolf standing before him!

"My parents!"

Lupin's voice, hoarse and filled with rage, echoed in the clearing as he growled at Fenrir.

"They did everything they could to cure me! So I could live like other children! Even though they knew, after being bitten by a werewolf, there was no cure, they still didn't give up. They pursued every possible lead, even though most of them were lies!"

"But they still did it!"

"For six years, they spent every last penny they had, sold everything they owned, traveling the world, praying, begging for a chance to find a cure!"

"But they failed. They even gave up their lives."

"But in the end, they gave me a chance—a chance to go to Hogwarts and learn just like other children."

"Unfortunately, I couldn't repay them. I couldn't repay my parents. They gave everything to me, but left me in this world all alone."

"Do you want to die?" Lupin sneered sarcastically. "Do you think things work that easily?"

"Fenrir Greyback!"

Lupin released his finger from the trigger, taking Fenrir's face in his hands and forcing him to look into his eyes.

"I didn't know how to face you before."

"But now, I understand."

"Twenty-eight years of debt—let's settle it, little by little."

The low, almost hoarse tone of Lupin's voice became even darker as he spoke.

"Those blood debts..."

Lupin's voice trailed off, a rawness creeping in.

"Let me be alone with him for a while, Harry," Lupin said softly.

(End of Chapter)