"You wasted a lot of time," Snape said, his tone flat as he stepped aside, relinquishing the front of the classroom. "Even if there were werewolves in the Forbidden Forest, you wouldn't be able to tell. They look just like anyone else most of the time."
"Professor Snape," Dudley interjected, pulling out a small sack and giving it a pat, "I caught one."
With a shake, the contents tumbled out.
"It's not a full moon, so even if you caught something, it's useless," Snape said, frowning. His frown deepened when he saw what Dudley had released. "And… that's just a wolf, isn't it?"
Bound tightly with ropes was a magnificent wolf—sleek, powerful, and undeniably beautiful. Its muzzle, eyes, and the fur on its tail matched the descriptions of a werewolf, and its gaze held a spark of human-like intelligence. But Snape was certain: this was no werewolf. It was just a wolf.
No werewolf could transform outside a full moon. That was a fundamental truth in the wizarding world. Voluntary transformations? Pure fiction. A werewolf's change was an uncontrollable, cursed beast-state, driven by instinct, not choice.
"No, it's a werewolf," Dudley said firmly.
He knew full well werewolves only transformed under moonlight, and the full moon was still a couple of days away—not to mention it was broad daylight. "More specifically, a special kind of werewolf. The offspring of two werewolves."
When two werewolves, in human form, had a child, that child was human, free of the curse. But what happened if they mated as wolves during a full moon?
The result was this stunning creature—or rather, a whole litter of them.
"You're saying this is the child of two werewolves mating in their beast form during a full moon?" Snape asked, his interest piqued. Werewolves rarely spared humans during a full moon, and werewolf pairings were uncommon. Both happening together? Almost unheard of.
"Exactly," Dudley nodded. "So, in a way, it's a werewolf."
"Fascinating," Snape said, his eyes gleaming as he studied the creature. "The only thing I know that can fully turn a wizard into a beast is the Blood Curse."
The Blood Curse was a terrifying hereditary condition that forced a person to shift between human and animal until they became a beast permanently. It sounded a bit like a botched Animagus transformation, but it was entirely different.
Snape stared at the bound wolf, practically itching to dissect it and uncover its secrets. Werewolves, though not accepted by wizarding society, were still human at their core, even in wolf form. They could even have children with non-werewolf witches. But if two werewolves mated in wolf form and produced a wolf… what would happen if an Animagus in animal form mated with another animal? No wizard had been reckless—or depraved—enough to try. Well, maybe some eccentric Indian wizard had.
Magic, it seemed, could bypass even reproductive barriers.
"Professor Snape, you said werewolves are dangerous, but this one doesn't seem dangerous at all," a voice piped up.
It was Lavender Brown, a Gryffindor, gazing at the wolf with pity. The creature returned her look with pleading eyes, and Lavender's heart melted.
"It shouldn't be tied up like that," she said softly. "I can feel its pain. Werewolf lives matter too."
Before Snape could respond, Dudley flicked his wand, and the ropes binding the wolf fell away.
The moment it was free, the wolf's demeanor changed. Gone was the pitiful expression—it lunged at Lavender, jaws wide, sharp fangs glinting, and a foul stench rolling off it.
But before it could reach her, the ropes snapped back into place, binding it tightly and sending it crashing to the floor like a toppled spinning top.
"Not dangerous?" Dudley's voice was sharp, cutting through the classroom. "Don't let it fool you. This is a werewolf—a meat-eating werewolf, not a pet you'd keep at home."
Feeling sorry for it just because it looked pretty? This thing grew up in the Forbidden Forest. What made her think it wouldn't attack?
"Miss Brown," Dudley continued, his tone stern, "lesson one: never let appearances cloud your judgment, and don't act on pity without the means to protect yourself. That kind of mistake could get you killed."
Lavender, stung by his harsh words and the sudden scare, started to sob quietly. Hermione, standing nearby, glanced at her but didn't move to comfort her. She agreed with Dudley—and thought Lavender was being a bit dramatic.
"Every werewolf loses control when transformed," Dudley went on. "They become beasts driven by an urge to attack humans. They're not the same as their human selves. Don't think you can reason with them or 'save' them in that state. You don't have that power. One slip-up, and you're either dead or, if you're unlucky, turned into one of them."
He wasn't targeting Lupin or trying to vilify werewolves. Many were pitiable, living in poverty and cursed against their will. People like Lupin were kind in human form. But that didn't change the fact that werewolves, when transformed, were dangerous. The wizarding world shunned them for a reason: in wolf form, they were mindless, human-hunting monsters.
The bloody history of werewolf attacks spoke for itself. Claiming they were harmless was as wrong as saying they all deserved to die. The key was helping students understand werewolves properly—acknowledging their humanity while respecting their danger. Otherwise, a tragedy would only deepen the hatred.
Snape watched Dudley's handling of the situation, nodding approvingly. Despite being the same age as the other students, Dudley's sheer presence—his muscle-bound frame and commanding tone—gave him the aura of a seasoned professor.
"Now, back to the lesson," Dudley said, clearing his throat. The students straightened up instantly, sitting as obediently as if he'd barked a military command.
"You're lucky," he continued. "Over the holidays, I learned a spell—a spell that can turn a werewolf back into a human."
Werewolves were far more aggressive toward humans than regular wolves, and for no clear reason. That was just how they were, according to the official lore.