After signing the magical contract, the three of them crept out of the tunnel and jogged toward Hogwarts, hugging the castle walls before slipping through a side door.
A moment later, three more figures appeared stealthily at the tunnel entrance—one short and two tall, one thin and two chubby.
"Hurry up, don't dawdle!" Malfoy whispered urgently.
"But these books are so heavy!" Goyle complained, his face full of grievance as he clutched two massive, ancient tomes.
Having run all the way from the dormitory while avoiding passersby, his arms were aching despite his sturdy build.
Crabbe nodded in agreement. The pages of ancient magic books were not made of ordinary paper, and their weight was substantial.
Malfoy glared at the two of them, took a few deep breaths, and silently muttered to himself, 'Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,' before jumping into the tunnel first.
Crabbe and Goyle followed immediately, disappearing beneath the giant stone with their books in tow.
Makiya was about to welcome a very lucrative piece of business.
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The hidden collections of wizarding families were truly extraordinary; many of the concepts and knowledge within them were eye-opening to Makiya.
While Makiya was immersed in his studies, the conflict between Slytherin and Gryffindor continued to escalate.
Both sides traded blows, constantly targeting isolated students for retaliation. The intense friction ensured that the students of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had no shortage of drama to enjoy every day.
Ultimately, the tension reached a breaking point on the pitch of the wizarding world's traditional sport: Quidditch.
The cause was simple, stemming from the way Hogwarts managed its facilities.
There was only one Quidditch pitch, which the four house teams were supposed to use in rotation to avoid conflict.
However, when it was the Gryffindor team's turn, they found the pitch had already been occupied by the Slytherin team.
The Slytherins claimed they were training new players and even produced a note handwritten by their Head of House, Professor Snape, granting them permission.
The Gryffindors were naturally furious. It was bad enough that Snape was biased in class, but now he was interfering with the pitch? He was a Head of House, not the Headmaster—what right did he have to steal their training time with a mere scrap of paper?
A shouting match ensued, and as emotions flared, someone drew their wand and blindsided a Gryffindor student. The scene instantly devolved into chaos.
Double-Guns Potter made his appearance once again. With his pistols never leaving his side, he suppressed the entire Slytherin team single-handedly, buying time for his teammates to cast spells. Gryffindor won that skirmish decisively, and the name 'Double-Guns Harry' began to spread far and wide!
Slytherin, of course, was not about to take this lying down. Their Head of House had authorized their training; in their eyes, Gryffindor was the one being unreasonable. Besides, they had guns too—they just hadn't brought them because they were only planning to train.
They huddled together and decided they couldn't just swallow this loss. They had to retaliate.
The Gryffindors weren't stupid either. Long-term conflict had taught them exactly what the Slytherins were like, and they knew a counterattack was coming, so they remained on high alert.
Power often breeds the impulse to use it; with weapons in hand, their restraint began to crumble.
Friday night, the Great Hall.
As dinner began, Makiya sensed that something was off.
Why were so many people carrying their alchemical firearms?
He had left backdoors in all his creations, allowing him to easily perceive the location of every weapon.
The young wizards who bought guns usually didn't carry them around, only taking them out to play on weekends.
After all, their main job was attending class, and there was no opportunity to play with guns during lessons. Getting points deducted for being careless wasn't worth it.
But today was different—very different.
Makiya glanced at the Slytherin table, then turned to the Gryffindor table, and the realization slowly dawned on him.
'Good grief, they're actually going to have a shootout.'
The usual laughter and chatter had vanished. The wizards of the two houses simply lowered their heads and ate in silence. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was incredibly eerie.
The professors were also nowhere to be seen. The teachers at Hogwarts all had their own affairs to attend to, and usually had house-elves deliver their dinners to their offices.
The Ravenclaws were the first to notice the tension. They exchanged glances, confirming the suspicion in each other's eyes, and promptly sped up their eating. After a few hurried bites, they pulled their friends away and fled the hall.
The Hufflepuffs were slower to catch on, but since they were naturally fast eaters, they also began to filter out of the hall one after another.
Makiya pretended to finish his meal and walked toward the exit with his books.
Just before leaving, he glanced toward Harry's group and saw the trio huddled together, whispering. Harry was pulling out tracking flashbangs and other gadgets from his robes to distribute to his friends.
On the other side, some wealthy Slytherins were doing the exact same thing.
Makiya grinned, found a corner outside the hall, and pointed his wand at himself: "Disillusionment Charm."
His body gradually became transparent until he vanished into thin air.
Now invisible, Makiya tiptoed back into the hall, carefully weaving through the crowd to reach the staff table. He took a seat in Hagrid's chair and waited with bated breath.
As the remaining bystanders left, the pressure in the hall became stifling, as if tons of gunpowder were buried beneath the floor, waiting for a single spark to send everyone skyward.
Gradually, the sound of cutlery clinking against plates died away, and the vast hall fell into an uncanny silence.
Sitting in Hagrid's seat, Makiya perked up, sitting straight with his eyes wide open.
Was it finally happening?
At the Slytherin table, Malfoy held his ornate gold cup as if savoring a vintage wine.
He drained the last drop of pumpkin juice and hurled the golden cup with all his might.
Clang!
The cup struck the floor with a crisp ring that served as the signal flare, igniting the war instantly.
Everyone simultaneously drew their wands and guns. A dozen projectiles were thrown at once, and a massive cloud of smoke instantly blanketed the Great Hall.
"Take them down!"
"For Slytherin!"
"Filthy Mudbloods! Slytherin is supreme!"
Within the smoke, the Slytherins roared as the light of magical bullets and hexes streaked through the haze.
The Gryffindors were just as defiant, their shouts rising from all directions:
"Gryffindor is number one!"
"Slytherin trash!"
"Everything for the glory of Gryffindor!"
'Now that's what I call spirit!' Makiya praised silently.
He watched the scene with rapt attention. This was the first time his creations were being used in a large-scale engagement, and it was a momentous occasion.
Magical smoke filled the hall. The spells and bullets whistling by like rain would occasionally part the mist, offering a fleeting glimpse of the battlefield before the smoke rushed back in.
From time to time, someone would fall after being shot or get injured by flying debris from the tables.
Seeing this, Harry immediately smashed a Essence of Dittany healing smoke grenade behind him. The white-and-green mist washed over his allies, quickly dulling their pain and beginning to knit their wounds.
Refusing to leave the front line over minor injuries, the wounded stood right back up and rejoined the fray, their blood boiling with house pride.
Meanwhile, after a busy day, Professor Snape was leaving his office.
He had found an excuse to dock twenty points from Harry that morning and had just finished brewing a perfectly satisfactory potion. Snape was in a rare good mood and intended to grab a bite to eat in the Great Hall.
He would never allow a house-elf into his office, preferring to walk the extra distance himself.
Potions Professor, Potions Master, former Death Eater, and undying romantic, Severus Snape walked with a brisk pace, looking like a happy, oversized bat as he emerged from the dungeons and glided through the castle corridors.
He ascended the final flight of stairs and looked through the doors. Seeing the Great Hall filled with smoke so thick you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, a question mark slowly appeared above his head.
Snape: "(ಠ_ಠ)"
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