Not long after Peter was discreetly whisked away by the Ministry of Magic, The Daily Prophet dropped a bombshell that grabbed every wizard's attention.
Sirius Black was innocent. The betrayal of the Potters had hidden truths, and Peter Pettigrew, the hero thought dead, was very much alive.
One shocking revelation after another hit the wizarding world, where entertainment was scarce, and gossip was gold.
The newspaper's sales skyrocketed that day, overtaking The Quibbler to reclaim the top spot.
On the same day, The Daily Prophet released a special feature on Minister Fudge, detailing how he uncovered Sirius Black's innocence.
The story painted Fudge as a seasoned, steady detective, straight out of a thrilling novel.
Many high-ranking wizards scoffed at the idea.
Detective Fudge? That buffoon?
But to the average witch and wizard, who didn't know the full story, Fudge became a hero. His approval ratings soared.
Speaking up for the common folk was a winning move, and as long as this image held, Fudge's seat as Minister was secure.
After all, powerful wizards were a minority. Most of the wizarding world was ordinary people.
Fudge knew how to return favors, too. A batch of Hogwarts graduates landed cushy Ministry jobs, and even some students yet to graduate had positions reserved for them.
Among them was Percy, who'd only recently joined the Department of Magical Discipline.
As they say, even a pile of dragon dung has its uses—especially when it's sitting in a high place.
---
The red sun sank below the horizon, and a bright, round moon rose, hanging like a disc in the sky.
Another full moon night.
"Is there really… a spell that incredible?" Lupin stammered in the Headmaster's office. For a werewolf like him, this was life-changing. "Professor Dumbledore, are you saying Mr. Dursley can actually suppress my transformation?"
Lupin had barely sat down before he was up again, pacing the room.
Dumbledore understood his excitement and nodded. "Rest assured, Remus. Dudley's abilities are even greater than you might imagine."
Two weeks had passed since the Shrieking Shack incident. Because it involved a former Minister and a case tied to thirteen deaths, Sirius Black was still under Ministry supervision. Overturning his conviction required jumping through countless hoops, including at least five hearings at the Wizengamot.
Dudley chimed in, "Professor Dumbledore has submitted the spell to the Wizengamot. Once it's approved and confirmed effective, the Ministry will make it public. Then it can be widely used, and werewolf witches and wizards can live normal lives."
Lupin was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by excitement and gratitude.
"If you can keep your big black dog friend from pestering Harry, I'd be thrilled," Dudley added.
Lupin flushed with embarrassment.
Sirius had bothered Harry at least ten times already. If the Ministry wasn't keeping him on a tight leash, he'd probably be at Harry's side constantly.
It'd be fine if Harry was keen on it, but the problem was… Harry had no interest in Sirius, his supposed godfather. The man was meant to step up as Harry's guardian after his parents' death but had been absent for over a decade.
In the wizarding world, a godfather was a parent-appointed guardian, responsible for a child's care if tragedy struck.
Sirius hadn't just been an absent godfather—he might as well not exist.
In Harry's eyes, he ranked lower than Snape.
At least Snape taught him Potions.
As they spoke, the moon climbed higher, its light streaming through the skylight.
Bathed in the moonlight, Lupin suddenly collapsed to his knees, trembling uncontrollably.
"It's coming… I can't control it!" he shouted, warning Dudley and Dumbledore.
With a guttural growl, Lupin's head began to elongate, his body following suit. His shoulders hunched, fur sprouted across his face, hands, and body. His fingers curled into claws, his teeth sharpened into fangs, growing larger.
His eyes gleamed with bloodthirsty madness.
"Awoo!" The werewolf lunged, only to be restrained by vines wrapping around its limbs.
The vines coiled tightly around its joints. Unless it had the strength of a mountain troll, breaking free was impossible.
While werewolves were more dangerous than mountain or forest trolls, their raw strength paled in comparison.
Dudley calmly raised his wand, touching it to the werewolf's forehead.
"Humanus Restituo!"
The incantation for the Human Restoration Charm.
A soft blue light glowed from the wand's tip, radiating outward.
Slowly, the werewolf's struggles weakened. The madness in its eyes faded, replaced by clarity. Its fangs shrank, the thick fur receded, and its body gradually returned to human form.
"No matter how many times I see it, it's remarkable," Dumbledore said softly, smiling.
"How do you feel, Professor Lupin?" Dudley asked, lowering his wand.
"A bit dizzy, like I've eaten ten licorice wands. My stomach's churning," Lupin said, shaking his head. Then he froze, staring at his hands in disbelief.
They weren't furry claws but his normal human hands.
"It worked!" Lupin shouted, his voice breaking into sobs. Tears streamed down his face, and he cried like a child.
Normally, even with Wolfsbane Potion, Lupin could only stay sane during his transformation, forced to huddle in his office until dawn.
Wolfsbane was also outrageously expensive, far beyond what Lupin could afford before coming to Hogwarts.
To return to human form completely, like a normal person? That was a dream he'd never dared to entertain.
"I'm really back!" he cried, his voice heavy with decades of pain. Ever since Fenrir Greyback bit him, this had been his impossible dream.
Now, it was real. The Human Restoration Charm worked!
He'd still transform on full moons, but there was a way to change back.
"Thank you, Mr. Dursley," Lupin said, clasping Dudley's hand tightly with both of his. "Thank you so much."
Words failed him. All he could manage was gratitude.