"How is it? Do you feel any different?"
Inside one of the private chambers of the underground base, Maverick stood beside Sarah, both watching Ali, who lay resting on a narrow bed surrounded by a softly humming mix of magical and electronic monitors.
It had been half an hour since Ali drank the potion meant to rid him of the lycanthropy curse. The result wasn't exactly a cure—more of an alternative—but all things considered, the outcome wasn't bad at all.
Ali let out a long, weary breath and gave a slow nod. "Just tired. I haven't felt this drained since... well, ever."
Nearby, Sarah was hunched over a piece of parchment, scribbling with quick, uneven strokes. "Expected," she muttered, then glanced up at one of the monitors and gave a small nod, more to herself than anyone else.
Maverick glanced between the two, "doctor" and "patient," as Ali answered all of Sarah's questions.
And he was also aware that Ali was running on fumes—not just from how haggard he looked, but because his magical sense picked up almost nothing… as if the man's reserves were bone-dry. Dangerously so.
"Is this going to happen every time he transforms?" he asked, brow furrowed.
Sarah shook her head and tucked the parchment and quill back into her storage ring before moving over to check another instrument. "No. The test subjects only experienced this kind of exhaustion after the first transformation. The body's gone through a complete rework, you see—magic, biology, the whole lot. But that's all done now, and the next transformations will be quick and painless. Just like an Animagus. No agony, no crawling around with broken bones. Just—snap—and it's done."
Maverick gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was reassuring to know that his friend would no longer have to endure painful moons, or madness, or the constant risk of losing control.
"Well, my friend," he said, patting Ali's arm gently, "get some rest for now. Once you're back on your feet, we'll run a few more checks, then... well, we'll talk about it then."
Ali mumbled a tired "Thank you" before sleep took him, and a moment later, he was out cold, soft snores rising from the bed.
Sarah chuckled. "You haven't congratulated him on the other thing yet."
Maverick shrugged and smiled. "Later. Once he's awake and in better condition." He then turned to her with another matter. "Anyway, teacher... let's talk about the potion. Can it be mass-produced or not?"
Sarah sighed, long and loud, folding her arms. "I knew you'd ask me that," she said. "Unfortunately, no. The potion needs Greyback's bloodline factor to work, and we burned through most of it during testing. What little we have left isn't nearly enough to mass produce."
"Then what about the other potion?"
"That one's doable." She shrugged. "It can indeed be mass produced and doesn't require rare ingredients."
Maverick crossed his arms and fell into thought. It wasn't ideal, but... it was something. At least, a better choice than the Wolfsbane of today.
"Let's work with it," he said at last. "We'll put it out there, announce the side effects and all. I'm sure there will be many who'd choose to rid themselves of the lycanthropy curse, even at the cost of their magic. Most werewolves—like my friend here when I first met him—just want their lives back."
They continued discussing the arrangements—how and when to make it public—and even brought in their teacher, Edward, for his input. A remedy that could cure lycanthropy was bound to send shockwaves through the wizarding world, and they couldn't afford to take the matter lightly.
---
Time passed.
By early August, three weeks had flown by in the blink of an eye, and now, less than a month remained before the new academic year started.
Maverick spent most of that time at the underground base, splitting his attention between overseeing Harry and Hermione's training and personally working with Ali.
Just a day after taking the potion, Ali was well enough to stand tall again, and Sarah fully discharged him into Maverick's care. The first thing Maverick did was congratulate him on reaching the rank of Greatmage. After that, he personally and thoroughly tested Ali's werewolf transformation, confirming that the beast was completely under Ali's control.
Moreover, just as Sarah had predicted, the change was instantaneous and painless—no different from an Animagus transformation. From man to beast and back again, he could control it effortlessly, and Maverick finally let go of his last remaining worries for his friend.
And since Ali was now officially a Greatmage, Maverick planned to make him his official thug… cough, right-hand man. Up until now, Ali had been managing Maverick's growing empire mostly in name, while Maverick himself had to step in whenever something required raw power. But that was no longer necessary.
Ali had the wits now—and the strength to match. Unless an Archmage decided to meddle and throw their weight around, there was very little he couldn't handle. And Maverick was fairly certain that the upper circles of the magical world—namely, the Speakers—now knew better than to trouble him. After all, the display at his inauguration hadn't been just for show. It had been a message, loud and clear.
In the weeks that followed, Maverick trained Ali personally, holding nothing back. He shared knowledge, passed down techniques, and offered the kind of experience that couldn't be found in books—everything Ali would need to stabilize and grow into his newfound power.
It wouldn't all settle in at once, of course, but with Maverick's support, the path forward would be far smoother and faster than it would've been otherwise.
By the first week of August, Ali returned to London—rested, recharged, and stronger than ever in both power and magic. He was more than ready to take up the mantle of leadership. With that settled, Maverick turned his attention back to Harry and Hermione, who were also now getting ready to return home.
Even though he had spent most of his time with Ali, he hadn't forgotten about them, and would stop by to check on their progress as well.
The two kids had grown remarkably—fitting, really, for the son of luck and his sidekick in the original story.
The training sessions—especially the mock duels against Edward's students—had sharpened their skills to a fine edge. The instructors here were no less capable than Hogwarts professors, and arguably had more real-world experience in dueling.
So even though Maverick hadn't personally given them pointers during practice these past few weeks, their progress—and the time they spent here—was far from wasted.
Maverick was confident now. If they had to stand toe-to-toe with NEWT-level Hogwarts students, they could hold their own—and then some.
The summer had been long and intense, but also productive. From learning sorcery at Kamar Taj to managing Jean's orientation, and dealing with Ali's beastly problem while organizing training for the two kids—it had been a very successful couple of months.
There were, of course, a few things Maverick had planned to do with the Gryffindor duo that he hadn't managed because of the unexpected situation with Ali, which had demanded most of Maverick's attention.
Still, Harry and Hermione seemed quite satisfied with their visit and even appeared to have made a few new friends.
But now, it was time to head back. Only three weeks remained until school started, and the kids still hadn't bought their supplies for their third year. That was plenty of time, though, and Maverick didn't need to accompany them for that.
So, the day after Ali left, Maverick drove Harry and Hermione back to London. After dropping Hermione off, he drove normally the rest of the way to the Dursleys' home on Privet Drive.
By the time they arrived, it was around seven in the evening. The sun had long since set, and the clear summer sky was dotted with stars.
"Are you going with your aunt to get your supplies, or will you call the Weasleys to come with you?" Maverick asked, stopping at the doorstep of the Dursleys' home.
Harry shrugged. "I'll call Ron and ask if they can come pick me up. If not…"
"Why don't you take your aunt?" Maverick suggested. "Show her around Diagon Alley. I mean, she's trying—at least to make up for everything. And she's your only close blood relative, the only person connecting you to your mother."
Harry scratched the back of his head, seeming to consider the idea. "You think it's a good idea, Professor?"
Maverick chuckled. "I just thought of it, but it's your call. Don't feel like you have to take my word for it. Like I said before, you get to decide whether to forgive her and her family or not."
With that, he turned away and waved a hand. "Go on then, Potter. I've got something to take care of."
The door shut behind him with a slight nudge from his magic before Harry could say anything. Maverick didn't stop but made his way toward his Porsche and opened the door.
Just before getting in though, a smile tugged at his lips and his eyes darted momentarily toward the other side of the street, near a garbage bin.
There, he detected a subtle fluctuation of magic—so faint it could only be noticed by someone with a highly advanced magical sense.
One of the best advantages of being an Animagus was that in their transformed state, their magic became almost undetectable, blending perfectly with the real animal they mimicked. And right now, Maverick had just spotted such a case. He knew exactly who this 'pretend old mutt' was.
Sirius Black. A large black dog with gleaming eyes, alert and watchful.
And the dog—Black, at the moment—had its eyes fixed on the car and the man getting into it, thinking nothing was amiss and that his presence hadn't been noticed.
Click!
He watched as the car door shut behind the young man, and a moment later, drove off down the street. The dog sat vigilantly, eyes fixed on the disappearing car—watching, always watching—with a flicker of madness glinting in their depths.
Though he had been suffering like a true animal in the depths of Azkaban, he hadn't been completely cut off from the outside world.
For reasons he never quite understood, newspapers would occasionally be delivered even to the prison cells. Apparently, even criminals had to stay up to date on the major happenings in the wizarding world. Or was it something else? He thought about it but couldn't come up with an answer.
But it was precisely because of that ridiculous luxury that, a few weeks ago, he had suddenly made the decision to escape.
He was a man who had long since given in to his situation—perhaps wrongly imprisoned, perhaps not. He wasn't even sure he cared anymore. Not until recently, when he saw something in the news. Something that changed everything.
Pushing aside the grim thoughts, the black dog—Sirius Black—relaxed and turned his gaze back to the house. Through the lit window, he saw the boy he was most curious about.
Harry. He was seated at a table, and a woman—Sirius assumed it must be Lily's sister—brought him a cup and sat down beside him. They spoke with easy smiles and calm expressions, the kind that suggested a rare kind of peace.
The dog tilted his head slightly, puzzled.
He remembered James telling him that Lily's sister had been… difficult, to say the least. But judging by what he was seeing now, perhaps he had misunderstood. Or perhaps something had changed.
Whatever bitterness that may or may not have once existed between his best friend's wife, Lily, and her Muggle sister didn't seem, at the very least, to be affecting her son.
Prrr.
He rested his head on his paws, eyes still trained on the warm little scene playing out inside. It had been so long since he had felt anything like this. So long since he had let himself relax, even for a moment.
He couldn't even remember the last time. But seeing Harry—his best friend's son—safe, healthy, and smiling... it brought a quiet ache to his chest.
He wanted nothing more than to go to him. To walk up to the door, fall to his knees, and just say it—I'm sorry. Again and again, until the guilt no longer burned.
But of course, that was only a dream. A fleeting thought.
Reconciliation wasn't part of his plan. He didn't deserve it. Deep down, he had already decided that he was partially to blame for James and Lily's deaths. No matter what others said. All he wanted now was to find the one who had truly betrayed them. To find him... and make him suffer.
Perhaps tomorrow, he thought. Tonight, I just want to watch.
"He looks happy, right?"
A calm voice spoke beside him.
Prrr. The dog let out a low sound and bobbed his head in quiet agreement.
Yes. James Junior looked happy... and he deserved to be even happier.
WAIT!
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Author's Note:
Hello my dear readers,
My wife is having her C-section this week on the 14th, so I might not be able to keep up with my usual pace of 5+ chapters a week. I'll still try my best—aiming for at least one chapter every two days, or a minimum of three chapters a week.
However, in about a month, I should be able to get back to my normal pace. For the first week, I'll be super busy... you know, new baby and all!
This will be our third child, and we're welcoming our second daughter into the family 😊😊
Thank you all so much for your support and kindness. My life has changed so much for the better ever since I started writing, and I owe so much of that to you.
Truly, thank you from the bottom of my heart. ❤️
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