Ok, this has been driving me crazy for seven movies now, and I know you're going to roll your eyes, but hear me out: Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
Here's why:
Think about how quickly the entire WWWIII (Wizarding-World War III) would have ended if all of the good guys had simply armed up with good ol' American hot lead.
Basilisk? Let's see how tough it is when you shoot it with a .470 Nitro Express. Worried about its Medusa-gaze? Wear night vision goggles. The image is light-amplified and re-transmitted to your eyes. You aren't looking at it--you're looking at a picture of it.
Imagine how epic the first movie would be if Harry had put a breeching charge on the bathroom wall, flash-banged the hole, and then went in wearing NVGs and a Kevlar-weave stab-vest, carrying a SPAS-12.
And have you noticed that only Europe seems to a problem with Deatheaters? Maybe it's because Americans have spent the last 200 years shooting deer, playing GTA: Vice City, and keeping an eye out for black helicopters over their compounds. Meanwhile, Brits have been cutting their steaks with spoons. Remember: gun-control means that Voldemort wins. God made wizards and God made muggles, but Samuel Colt made them equal.
Now I know what you're going to say: "But a wizard could just disarm someone with a gun!" Yeah, well they can also disarm someone with a wand (as they do many times throughout the books/movies). But which is faster: saying a spell or pulling a trigger?
Avada Kedavra, meet Avtomat Kalashnikova.
Imagine Harry out in the woods, wearing his invisibility cloak, carrying a .50bmg Barrett, turning Deatheaters into pink mist, scratching a lightning bolt into his rifle stock for each kill. I don't think Madam Pomfrey has any spells that can scrape your brains off of the trees and put you back together after something like that. Voldemort's wand may be 13.5 inches with a Phoenix-feather core, but Harry's would be 0.50 inches with a tungsten core. Let's see Voldy wave his at 3,000 feet per second. Better hope you have some Essence of Dittany for that sucking chest wound.
I can see it now...Voldemort roaring with evil laughter and boasting to Harry that he can't be killed, since he is protected by seven Horcruxes, only to have Harry give a crooked grin, flick his cigarette butt away, and deliver what would easily be the best one-liner in the entire series:
"Well then I guess it's a good thing my 1911 holds 7+1."
And that is why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
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Sheldon says BAZINGA
"I've never been a fan of Internet Explorer" Crowd laughs nervously and a few grunts are heard from the back seats as people edge closer to hear the punchline. "Why not? Don't you like the internet?" The crowd suddenly stands up, aware that they are about to receive what they came for. People slowly edge closer to the set as Sheldon prepares for his next line. Sweat is clearly visible on his brow and his mouth is quivering in anticipation as he readies himself for what is about to happen. "I just prefer Firefox because, like the fox, I am cunning and nimble." The crowd suddenly surges forward as the words escape Sheldon's mouth. They are so powerful, they almost shake the very foundations of the CBS studios. He watches as, in what he perceives as slow motion, the crowd moves toward his fragile body. He has been preparing for this moment his whole life. This is his moment. This is his Emmy. This is his Golden Globe. This is even his Oscar. The crowd converges around him so quickly they ignore the trampled cries of Leonard and Penny, who now lie shaking on the floor, their bones crushed by the sheer mass of the crowd. Sheldon stares back at the eyes around him. What he sees are no longer people. What he sees is the human psyche stripped down to its core. Their lives, what they were before this moment has been forgotten. Ravenous. Hungry. They want one thing from him. Sheldon closes his eyes, clears his mind and relaxes his body. What happens next depends completely on the next few seconds. The time between this and what he mutters next feels like an eternity. Slowly, he opens his eyes. He looks at Leonard, then at Penny, both lying lifeless on the floor. Without a second thought, he says with resounding conviction... "BAZINGA" In a split second, the crowd pounces on his ready and waiting body. Man, woman, child all at once. Sheldon cries out in complete ecstasy as they consume his flesh. He stops suddenly, as he drifts into eternal slumber. Peace at last.