She conjured a target board about thirty feet away and aimed. As soon as she raised her hand, the gun focused right where she was looking and she squeezed the trigger. Her eyes squinted shut and the reverberation up her arm was painful. More importantly though, the bullet struck true, right through the head of the target paper like she’d wanted. Hermione smirked, admiring the shiny metal and running a hand along it, seeing the curling runic magic glowing slightly in dark pulsing purples up the side. Auto-aim, shield piercing, imperviousness, muffling. It was a thing of beauty.