Italian Ministry of Magic
Lorenzo's office.
He stared at the massive, animated map of Italy on his wall.
A deep green vortex marked Douglas Holmes. Spinning quietly. Somewhere in the Apennines.
Moments ago, a dark red dot appeared on the northern border. "Highly Dangerous Unregistered Magical Creature." It pulsed ominously. Then moved. Straight toward that green vortex. No hesitation.
Lorenzo's slender fingers tapped the desk. Rhythmic.
His smile curved like a freshly sharpened scalpel.
"Another mad dog."
He murmured. His voice held cold appreciation.
He didn't sound any alarm. Didn't dispatch Aurors to intercept.
"Holmes. Let's see how big a cage you've prepared, foreign beast tamer."
Lorenzo's fingertip touched the moving red dot. Like crushing an insignificant fly.
He lifted his coffee. Sipped. His gaze drifted toward the window with interest. As if watching a bloody opera about to begin.
Vatican
A prayer room that never saw sunlight.
Flickering candlelight illuminated an old man in plain monk's robes.
His face hidden in his hood's shadow. Unclear.
He knelt before a black marble altar. No crucifix.
On it sat an ancient pure silver basin. Filled with mirror-clear water.
The surface reflected Fenrir Greyback's twisted form. Running wild through mountain forests.
"Foolish beast. Mad dog led by desire."
The old man's voice scraped like dead leaves on stone. Dry. Hoarse.
He stood. The image in the basin vanished.
The old man turned slowly. Whispered into deeper darkness behind him: "God's lamb needs tempering. Go. Shepherd that mad dog. Let it tear at the hypocrite shepherd. I need to see... miracles, or destruction."
When Fenrir Greyback finally reached his destination, he didn't find Lupin dying from wounds.
He found freshly turned earth. It smelled of soil.
Before it stood a crude stone marker.
He squinted. Read the arrogant text carved by magic.
Here lie Red Moon Brotherhood totem werewolves. They took pride in hunting Muggles and their own kind.
Signed: Courtesy of Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
P.S.: Professor Holmes's improved werewolf curse suppressant...
The air still carried the totem werewolves' post-death scent. Sulfur. Resentment. Rage.
He recognized it. Those Red Moon Brotherhood idiots. Their smell. Their names.
His crew felt fear.
Killing thirteen powerful totem werewolves in one battle—the enemy here exceeded imagination.
More werewolf deaths than they'd seen in ten years in Britain combined.
They retreated uneasily. Low whimpers in their throats.
"Worthless trash!" Greyback snarled without turning. The violence in his voice made the retreating werewolves freeze. They didn't dare move.
He spat at the gravestone. Blood-streaked saliva.
His eyes blazed with arrogant confidence in absolute power.
"They died because they were weak!"
He threw his head back. That filthy face twisted with mad pride.
He opened his mouth. Used every ounce of strength. Released a howl that shook the valley!
"LUPIN! COME OUT AND DIE!"
"Didn't your stupid father teach you the price of betraying your own kind?!"
The howl stirred fallen leaves. Echoed through the valley.
The echo hadn't faded yet.
A figure emerged from the mine's shadow.
Not Douglas.
Greyback's bloodthirsty smile froze.
He'd imagined Lupin crawling out. Maybe covered in wounds. Maybe hysterical.
He hadn't imagined this.
Clean. Neat. Meticulous—like someone attending a funeral.
No fear on that face. No anger. Only bone-deep calm.
Until Greyback met his eyes.
Not beast eyes. Not wizard eyes.
A frozen lake surface. Beneath it, molten lava hot enough to incinerate the entire valley. Boiling for over a decade.
Greyback froze. Then that filthy face twisted into a strange smile. His throat produced sounds like grinding bones.
He stuck out his long tongue. Licked his cracked lips. No mockery in his gaze. Only cruel interest—like spotting a novel toy.
He looked Lupin up and down. Like examining livestock sent to the wrong slaughterhouse. Undisguised contempt.
"Dressed like a coward going to a funeral."
"That smell... that bloody, wild smell that belongs to us—it's gone from you."
Greyback sniffed the air greedily. His mockery turned to almost nauseating disgust.
"You're not a wolf anymore, Remus."
"You're just a neutered pet wearing human skin!"
Greyback stepped forward. Pounded his stone-hard chest. Dull drum-like sounds. Proclaiming his judgment to the entire valley.
"True power comes from our nature! From the desire to tear and kill!"
His voice grew more fervent. Intoxicating madness.
"You threw it away! Like throwing away your teeth and claws!"
Lupin's heart remained calm.
He suddenly remembered what Sirius told him recently.
They'd sat in Hogwarts' staff office. Firelight illuminating Sirius's face—free again, but still carrying a trace of wildness.
"That Douglas guy—he looks at you like uncut jade that can be carefully polished."
"He looks at me like a wild dog that needs whipping now and then to behave."
Sirius had downed a large gulp of butterbeer. Grinned.
"Moony, he understands how to deal with people like us better than anyone."
Yes. Better than anyone.
Lupin raised his head. Met Greyback's violent eyes.
Then, watched by every creature in the valley, he did something that froze the air.
He slowly drew his wand from his sleeve.
That cypress wand. Companion through his adult years. Proof of his wizardhood. Weapon against his inner beast.
He looked at it once. Then gently tossed it behind him onto the ground.
The wand landed on soft earth. A barely audible thud.
Light sound. Yet it struck clearly on every heart.
"To deal with you," Lupin's voice was soft, but like a stone dropped into a silent pond, it carried clearly through the valley.
"I don't need magic."
He began unbuttoning his wizard's robes. One button. Then another.
He removed the robes—symbol of wizard identity. Didn't toss them carelessly. Folded them neatly. Placed them gently beside his wand.
Beneath the robes, a plain white shirt.
His body no longer looked emaciated from illness and curse torment.
Instead, smooth, solid muscle lines.
Not exaggerated. But full of restrained power ready to explode.
Douglas had rebuilt this body with unknown potions and strange Eastern martial arts.
A vessel that no longer needed magic to suppress instinct. One that could harness power through will.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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