Kyle plunged his head into the trunk, checking to see if there were any other heavy firearms inside.
A massive weapon crate piled in the corner caught Kyle's attention.
Generally speaking, a weapon's power is directly proportional to its size. Since the case holding it was so huge, its power certainly wouldn't be small.
After dragging it out and setting it on the ground, Kyle pried open the crate, revealing the weapon inside.
Upon seeing this odd-looking launcher, Kyle's brow instantly twitched.
If he wasn't mistaken, this weapon was the famous—dubbed by later military enthusiasts as the stupidest firearm ever—M388 Davy Crockett Nuclear Recoilless Gun.
Minimum range: 400 meters. Maximum range: 2 kilometers.
Yet its blast radius was a staggering 5 kilometers.
It could be called the most hardcore "suicide" weapon in the history of human warfare.
Seeing Kyle suddenly fall silent, Cedric bumped Kyle's shoulder. "Is there something wrong with this weapon?"
There was a problem, and it was a big one.
Kyle waved his hand, deciding not to give away this hot potato. If a mushroom cloud were to rise over Hogwarts Castle or the Burrow one day, that would be a massive disaster.
He pulled another rocket launcher out of the trunk, one very familiar to Middle Eastern players—the RPG-7!
Kyle held the RPG with a solemn expression, as if it were some rare treasure.
"This is a top-tier Cuban cigar—Cohiba, Montecristo..."
Kyle held a rocket-propelled grenade in his hand.
"Equipped with high-explosive rounds, one shot can blast through a Protego charm. If you use armor-piercing rounds, it might even blow open Protego Horribilis."
"If it were any smarter, it would write a book itself—definitely more obscure than Professor Binns's History of Magic—and it would even read it to you."
Kyle looked intoxicated.
"This is my Eiffel Tower, my Rachmaninoff's Third, my favorite weapon—elegant in design, incredibly beautiful."
He affectionately kissed the warhead.
"I call it the 'Ex-Wife'."
Fred put the hand he had behind his back onto his chin, rubbing it in thought.
George glanced at his twin brother, wondering what he was thinking.
"This is the best I can offer."
Kyle placed the rocket launcher and the rounds in front of the two. "Do you want it or not?"
The twin brothers maintained their deadpan expressions.
"Give me some reaction, will you? You two are as inscrutable as a Sphinx."
Fred slammed his hands on the table. "We'll take it!"
"Which one?"
"All of them."
Having settled the arms deal, the four immediately ran off to drink and have a late-night snack.
An hour later, Kyle was the only one who emerged from the trunk.
The other three, high on drink, were passed out on the sofa in the living room.
Kyle couldn't be bothered to drag them out of the trunk one by one and dump them back in their respective common rooms, so he just let them lie there for the night.
Hopefully, they could crawl up by themselves before the first class in the morning.
Early the next morning, Hufflepuff Common Room.
Kyle slowly sat up in bed, his unfocused gaze unable to center properly no matter how hard he tried.
I really should have drunk some Sobering Potion before sleeping last night, Kyle thought, patting his head as it throbbed.
After sitting on the edge of the bed to compose himself, Kyle walked softly out of the dormitory.
Through the small, round windows on the common room walls, Kyle could roughly judge that it wasn't yet six in the morning.
The spacious room was empty; not a single person was there.
After a simple wash-up, Kyle walked out of the Hufflepuff Common Room and onto the grounds outside the castle.
Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, he began his daily morning training routine.
By the time he returned to the Great Hall for breakfast, more than an hour had passed.
At the entrance to the Great Hall, Kyle was intercepted.
"Did you guys sneak off to drink again last night?" Penelope Clearwater leaned in close to Kyle, her delicate nose sniffing at his wizarding robes. "No smell of alcohol."
Too close, Senior!
Inside the Great Hall, Percy Weasley, who had been watching the entrance, unconsciously bent a fork.
Unaccustomed to chatting with a beautiful upperclassman at such close quarters, Kyle took a step back. "How did you know?"
Penelope pursed her lips toward the Gryffindor table in the Hall. "Look at those three drunks."
Kyle didn't look toward the Hall, but rather toward the Grand Staircase ahead, where the figure of an old man with a white beard was slowly walking down.
Holy sh*t!
Kyle bolted toward the Gryffindor table. These three, reeking of alcohol, actually dared to come to the Great Hall for breakfast? Were they afraid Dumbledore wouldn't notice, or did they just want to die faster!?
"Get up, quick!" Kyle summoned three balls of water and smashed them into the faces of the three, who had just woken from their hangovers.
He pulled three bottles of Sobering Potion from his pocket and slammed them down in front of them. "Drink this! Professor Dumbledore is coming!"
Hearing Professor Dumbledore's name, George, Fred, and Cedric instantly sobered up halfway.
The three scrambled to deal with their abnormalities, finally managing to cover up all traces before Dumbledore stepped into the Great Hall.
After entering the Hall, Dumbledore noticed the four members of the "Father-Worriers Alliance" staring at him with strange looks.
He looked suspiciously at his own outfit; there shouldn't be anything unusual about it.
The first class on Monday morning was Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration.
Because of the friendly relationship between the Lions and the Badgers, most classes for these two houses were held together.
If they were actually paired like in the movies from his past life—Lions and Snakes together—the class would likely be filled with all sorts of overt and covert struggles, and no actual learning would get done.
Inside the Transfiguration classroom, a tabby cat sat quietly on the teacher's desk.
Transfiguration is a subject that teaches students how to understand and change the shape and appearance of objects.
It is extremely complex and rigorous, considered to be one of the most difficult branches of magic.
Therefore, learning Transfiguration requires more effort than other subjects, as well as a certain amount of talent.
Unlike Defense Against the Dark Arts, which any random riffraff seems to be able to teach, anyone capable of serving as a Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts is invariably a wizard with extremely high attainments in the field.
Before Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts was Albus Dumbledore, the greatest white wizard in the magical world today.
Professor McGonagall's mastery of Transfiguration is evident from this fact alone.
As one of only seven Animagi officially registered with the Ministry of Magic in the twentieth century, Professor McGonagall's favorite thing to do was to use the advanced magic of transforming herself into an animal to guide young wizards encountering Transfiguration for the first time.
Of course, this method sometimes led to unexpected accidents.
Take this class, for example.
When Kyle and Hannah arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, there weren't many young wizards there yet. It seemed most of the first-year students were still on their way.
It wasn't their fault; given the intricate and complex structure of Hogwarts Castle, it was hardly surprising for first-year freshmen to get lost.
This was where the benefit of having an experienced guide lead the way became apparent—Hannah, who left with Kyle, didn't need to waste time finding the right path.
Upon seeing the beautiful tabby cat on the desk, Hannah recklessly reached out her sinful little hand, wanting to pet the feline master.
Kyle's right eyelid instantly twitched. Just as Hannah was about to grab Professor McGonagall by the scruff of her neck—the scruff of destiny—he slapped away Hannah's wandering hand reaching for the tabby cat in the nick of time.
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