Chapter 60: Trace Mechanics
Harry looked bewildered.
"Did I do something to upset her?"
Ron whispered, "That's my sister Ginny. All summer she's been going on about you. Annoying as hell."
Harry lowered his head. He now knew how famous he was among wizards. Not the first time seeing this. Pretty much used to it.
Fangirl meets idol.
Just as food hit the table, the door opened again.
A kind-faced, red-haired middle-aged man walked in.
The red-haired man nodded at Harry—obviously met before. Seeing Hermione, laughed heartily.
"This must be Miss Granger! Thank you for protecting Harry and Ron. Also, defeating an adult wizard as a first-year—the Defense professor, no less—unprecedented achievement! Even the Ministry's buzzing about it!"
Just took down one Quirrell. That big a deal? Hermione was surprised.
She thought it was perfectly normal. Forgot her age was the key—how remarkable it seemed to everyone else.
"Um... not really. Quirrell wasn't in great shape at the time..." Hermione defended.
Molly said, "I heard you also played Beater for Gryffindor. Defeated Slytherin, won the Cup?"
"Well... Harry actually caught the Snitch. He scored the points. Nothing to do with me..."
"Little Hermione, you're too modest. Harry said you contributed the most." Molly's gaze toward Hermione grew increasingly kind.
"And final exams. Heard only you got perfect marks."
That one's true.
First-year exams were trivial for Hermione. Total advantage.
But Mrs. Weasley, how do you know more about what I did than I do?! Hermione thought.
Where's all this intel from?!
"Look at Hermione!" Molly suddenly turned to Ron. "Only one year in and already so accomplished. And you? Not a single Outstanding!"
Ron, busy with a chicken leg, got called out innocently. Face full of despair.
Harry instinctively wanted to help his friend. Opened his mouth. Held back.
Hermione pretended not to see. Ate silently.
For a moment, the table filled with awkward cheer.
After the meal, Mr. Weasley pulled out a briefcase. Extracted a box.
Opening it—a pile of items inside. Hermione examined them.
"This is... alchemical materials?"
Arthur nodded. "Hermione, you gave Ron that broomstick. Heard your alchemy skills are exceptional... So I arranged to keep some confiscated materials. Perfect gift for you."
Wait, your whole family's so nice to me—I'm kinda panicking...
Could it be... She suddenly thought of a concerning possibility.
After thinking, Hermione still accepted the box. Then pulled something out, placed it on the table.
Seeing the sleek black object, Arthur's eyes widened. Obviously recognized it.
"This, this is..."
Right. On the table—a handgun.
Hermione knew Arthur worked at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Liked collecting Muggle items.
Could say he was quite fond of Muggle products.
"How do you have this!"
Arthur looked incredulous.
This wasn't just any Muggle item. Extremely dangerous.
"Got it by chance." Hermione didn't elaborate. "This is for you."
Arthur's eyes flashed with excitement. He'd wanted to collect this for ages... just never had the channels. Didn't expect Hermione to surprise him.
"What is it?"
Seeing Arthur's reaction, the Weasley family crowded around.
Harry recognized it. Looked sharply at Hermione.
"Um, should I say it's the Muggle equivalent of a wand?" Hermione was uncertain.
Arthur explained, "This is a Muggle weapon. Even among Muggles, not everyone's qualified to have one."
"Muggle wand—what can it do?" Ron was interested.
Hermione glanced at him. Said flatly, "Avada Kedavra."
The moment the words fell, the entire house went silent.
Hermione clearly felt breathing quicken around her. Ron, Ginny, the Weasley twins—all stepped back simultaneously.
Ron forced a smile. "Hermione... you're joking, right?"
The Unforgivable Curses—everyone had heard of them. Avada Kedavra was the worst. Absolute taboo among wizards.
"Not that dramatic. Hermione's teasing you."
Sensing the tense atmosphere, Arthur laughed. "It has some power, but can't compare to that curse... Though it is dangerous. Don't touch it carelessly."
"No problem." Hermione picked up the gun. "I'll just unload it."
She quickly worked the mechanism. Rounds ejected one by one. Then dropped the magazine. Confirmed it was clear. Reinserted it.
With a click, she placed it back on the table.
"Safe now."
Watching Hermione's incredibly practiced movements, Arthur and Harry wanted to say something... but closed their mouths. Didn't dare ask further.
Molly and Arthur exchanged glances. Seemed to ask:
You sure this is a dentist's daughter?
Her parents seemed like such nice people. Didn't seem like it at all.
Next morning.
Watching Ginny sleep beside her, Hermione quietly got up.
The Burrow wasn't actually small. Just too many Weasleys, plus guests—rooms were tight.
So Hermione shared with Ginny. Harry bunked with Ron.
Looking at furnishings rivaling her own room, Hermione noted the family clearly doted on their only daughter.
Outside the house, Hermione started practicing.
Reducto!
Expelliarmus!
Stupefy!
Here, she could finally practice freely.
The Trace's tracking principle wasn't detecting magic use—but determining an underage wizard's location and monitoring nearby magical activity.
Once magic occurred near a Trace, and the wand's owner was the only registered wizard in range—instant violation.
This was also why certain incidents got blamed on the wrong person.
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