Ten weeks after Hermione had left Hogwarts to move to Australia with her parents, Harry and Ron were lying in their beds, in the dark, chatting, as they did most nights.
"Harry," Ron began, his voice pensive, "Why don't we ever just bomb him?"
"What?" replied Harry with mild irritation.
"Well, or use guns or something. I mean, why does it always have to be magic? Why do we never just shoot people in the head? Or get submachine guns and like, storm them or something?"
"Well that's obvious!" cried Harry, trying desperately of think of an answer. "Its because… It's because…. Well we just don't okay? You wouldn't understand anyway!"
"Alright, alright!" Ron muttered, smiling to himself. "Just a suggestion!"
Long after he heard his friend's loud snores, Harry stayed awake pondering what Ron had said. Why on earth didn't they ever just bomb people? Might be an idea. An epic plan was already forming in Harry's head. Now this Voldemort really wouldn't see coming.