The toys belong to J.K. Rowling and Notwolf, and I am grateful to be able to play with them. I hope you will like what you read!
It is canon- and Notwolf- compliant, if situated immediately after The Voldemort Diaries—Chapter 72 (There and Back Again)
It was the third fool moon that Marcus was spending in Bulgaria. May had proven to be nice weather-wise, the boy had a healthy tan already and was having fun time with the children of Durmstrang's teachers. If anyone among the adults had paid attention to the regularity of Marcus's "flues" and the time of the month they poleaxes a completely healthy child, this person was wise enough to shut up and mind his own business. Getting to Tanassovs and asking if their adoptive British boy is in fact a werewolf would take more than guts, which could be sorely missed after the response.
It was late afternoon and up there in the mountains it was still crisp. Luna was rocking in her armchair in front of a roaring fire at Tanassov's private library. He was reading a huge volume and making some brisk notes on a long narrow parchment. From time to time the Durmstrang director was looking up from his work and smiling at his wife. On her lap laid a silvery pup, curled under Luna's loving caress. Marcus was not fully asleep and indulgently stretched on the blue blanket. Luna scratched him between the ears. The cub arched and nested against her. The witch wrapped him with the hanging blanket's corner. A light snoring came from under the cover.
"He is still a baby!" she sighed. "He misses Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius, he told me yesterday." The snoring stopped and one ear came out of the blanket. "Ssst, sleep I said!" The ear dipped back but the snoring did not restart. "May be we shall consider flooing back next week."
"We are running out of plausible excuses, my love. This funny minister of Magic will lift his brows up to his funny hat when he hears we are there again. But who cares? It shall be after May 24th though as we have to finish the school year. Then we can stay somewhat longer and try to find the bastard who bit the children."
"You want to go to Azkaban and talk to him?"
"How do you know who he is? I thought that it was not established who bit them. There is no mention of it in any documents we got officially."
"The funny minister is very coy when he wants to be. He managed to put a plug on the Tollman's series about the children in the "Daily Prophet", offered several confusing versions to the press hounds and technically the Greyback name did not surface. Otherwise he should have been given the Kiss, not that he had not earned it long ago. If nothing had changed, Greyback is still in Azkaban."
"So the bastard knew who bit the children and never acted?"
"Well, he did, but his actions brought more harm than good. Tim ran away, Charlotte and Henry are prisoners at Harry's place, Marcus had to part with the Malfoys. He better refrains from acting. Anyway it is Lucius who pays for the Wolfsbane for all the ones that remain in Britain."
"No, I mean he could have sorted the werewolf problem altogether. Where did this duel master study? I presume at your Alma Mater. No offence love, but it is a lax place! The Game Keeper is a tender soul but complete simpleton. My esteemed colleague Mr. Snape taught your class some tidbits about lycanthropy when that poor Mr. Loupin was teaching there but had not elaborated much, I see. Tell me, did he ever mention what happens to the werewolf victims when someone kills or liberates the werewolf who had infected them?"
"Probably they rejoice! I know I would."
"No sweet, not only! They are free. It is even better. They can transform to wolves but voluntarily and they keep their minds much like the animagus. Up to now only wizards had been studied along this line, so I am not sure what the side effects are on muggles apart from the voluntary transformation. But the werewolf has to be killed or his hide burnt. Not to die of old age. Once a year they take off their skin and if someone snatches it and burns it, the effect is the same. However I doubt Fenrir Greyback has something to take off. "
"So what are we waiting for?"
"You want me to break the laws of your own country? To break the international laws? To face Dementors? To kill someone in one of the most strictly guarded prisons of all times? And you offer to come with me? Am I getting it right?"
"Exactly! Wouldn't it be fun? It is even better than hunting snorkaks on a full moon. Mind you, if we do this, Marcus will be able to come with us."
Dimitar Tanassov looked at the complicated structure around his globe. There a ray of sun illuminated a tiny spot next to a miniature sea bay. "It is sunny there and the slime is in hiding. I will just take few things as a precaution."
"I love the small comforts!" Luna exclaimed while transforming the magnificent coach car into a pumpkin. The winged horses were happy to be back on a shore and dived whinnying loudly. Dimitar put on her blond hair an old black tablet hat and put his own black fur hat. Both of them disappeared. Luna giggled. "What if I bump into you?"
"You can see me. You are just not accustomed to it." In fact she could see his silhouette. Where he was the picture was like a tad fuzzy, like on a hot day. "You can also hear me!" he teased. "Let us go, we don't have much time before tea time."
Dimitar whistled and the sea horses appeared before them. They brought their riders to the prison walls where the wizard planted a single bean in a crack next to the sea level. The magic beanstalk rose so fast that they hardly had time to cling to its top branches. Soon it was growing far above the top floor. As there were no guards in the corridor nobody paid any attention to a ball of gray yarn rolling somewhere. Behind it two almost shadows followed it.
Greyback's fur stood up. He was sensing the danger like a wild animal. Suddenly the cell's door blasted open but no one came in. The door clanged back and he shook his head. He was dreaming probably. The door had been locked for years and probably sealed as all the works were performed through the tiny window. Through it once in a while someone waved a wand to clean around. They fed him through the same blasted hole when they remembered to do it. Some bland porridge, some boiled vegetables, few times some overcooked meat. Oh, how he craved a piece of human flesh, he could smell it right there right now, he wished to sink his teeth in it and feel the pulsing blood coming out of his victim! A nice juicy kid, like the last one he had bitten of the muggles he took charge of. He should be ripe by now, for everything, he leery smiled.
Legilimency was a blessing most of the times and curse in some moments. Durmstrang's director read the werewolf's thoughts and a wave of pure rage went through him. He saw what the beast's intentions were towards his adopted child and the famous Tanassov's temper erupted. The Headmaster threw away his hat and his iron hand grabbed the werewolf's throat. "I want you to see something else as a last thought you scum. Your own blood gushing!" The black-clad man pulled a dagger and sliced through the werewolf. The yowl was terrifying and the creature started trashing but the hand kept him pinned to the wooden bed. Two quick slashes severed the fingers, few more kept slicing pieces of flesh from wherever he could reach. The yowl turned into gurgle and it started dying. One final blow decapitated the creature. Only then the Durmstrang director took out his wand and scourgified his attire. "Incendio!" came from the door. He smiled. His wife was a quick study.
Few floors under the group of Dementors started moving. They had sensed the fear which was yucky and they had drunk tons of it so they were not much interested. But the rage, oh, it was delectable! Who could think that someone in this filthy place was capable of such steaming emotion! The black creatures raced to find the source.
"Damn, I should not have got mad at him! Forgot the emotion-suckers! Fast, we should have been out of here by now!" Dimitar put on his invisibility hat and pulled Luna who was mesmerized by the flames. The stench of burnt flesh was nauseating and the nearby cells inhabitants started yelling in fear. Their neighbors heard and started yelling on their own turn. The chain reaction was spreading along the prison. The inmates were banging on their doors with whatever they could grab, most often their metal spoons and dishes. The few aurors were running to find out what had happened as the stench was picked up by the breeze and seemed to come from every direction. The chief of the guards remembered the mass escape organized by Voldemort. He grabbed his second in command. "Apparetre! Right to the Ministry! Tell Shacklebolt we have a massive intrusion! I want every spare auror in this country here immediately!" The man did not need any encouragement to follow this order.
Dimitar and Luna were running hand in hand behind the small ball of yarn. They had to stop only twice to give way to the aurors running down the stairs that they were climbing. They reached the top floor and hurried towards the bean stalk. Above them the sky was getting black with Dementors. "Damn, it will be a very swift ride down. Hold on to me!" Luna hugged his back and got hold of his belt. The director grasped a shot of the bean tree that was almost twice taller than the wall. "Incendio!"
The tree shriveled and shrank as fast as it had been growing. Dimitar and Luna landed with a thud in the water. The sea horses were waiting for them and they swam to shore in few minutes. There they changed into a gallop slowing only for a second for Luna to accio-d her pumpkin.
"No time for comforts!" she yelled over the thunderous hooves' thuds.
Dimitar looked over his shoulder. "Keep the hat on! We are not out of there yet! We need a town with a lot of people for them to lose the trail!" He pointed at a cloud of Dementors following them.
"How does the hat help against Dementors?"
"It doesn't. They are blind, they follow the emotions. But it makes you invisible to other humans."
"Good. There is a big local fair very close. I saw it on the way here. There should be tons of people!"
"Fantastic! Boys, speed up a little bit, please! I promise an extra bucket of coal for everyone!"
Luna pulled her wand and pointed at the direction of the fair. She thought of the day she had met her husband. Of the complete harmony between them. Of the fact that he had come to break all the laws with her to save their cub. "Expecto Patronum!"
A giant wave of happiness made Dementors feel drunk. Somewhere very close a huge mass of people were clapping and praising the fair organization comity.
"You are fabulous, just fabulous! This firework must have cost you a fortune, it was exactly like rabbit! The miniature rabbits are going for trice the price asked in the morning, the balloons from the rabbit stands are just washed away! Everyone wants a rabbit! I want a rabbit! And come to think of it, I am selling dogs!" The chief sponsor, one of the local landladies who was putting the show every year to boost her hunting grounds reservations, was ecstatic. She was holding her favourite baby hound. And chatting a mile a minute.
"Well, Madam, we… " the man got a sharp kick under the table from his much faster wife. "We are really happy it worked, Lady Weston. It was a surprise and we were not sure it will not backfire so we did not want to announce it in case it will not come out properly. You know the weather is so unpredictable, you see, just few minutes ago there was not a single cloud and now all this!" The woman pointed up at the rapidly darkening sky.
"Few drops of rain do not matter!" The woman felt some dampness but decided to brave it. "I will be glad if next year you order a dog instead! Oh, just a wish, of course!" Her last words drowned in the cheering screams and whistles. High above a huge silver wolf appeared and it looked like the clouds moved away from it. "My goodness!" Lady Weston nearly dropped Helly and she was her favourite hound. "Well, Madam, ah…" this time the kick was even more severe. "We apologize, our Chinese fireworks master had probably not managed to make it look exactly like a hound, this is what we ordered."
"I don't care about the price! It is incredible! Pray do share the address of this genius!"
"Oh, we are so sorry. His mother died few days ago and he left for his homeland. You know how respective these people are to their elders. He said he was not going to come back as he has to take care of his elderly father who is all alone now. Really sad, he promised to write as soon as he is established there. We will forward the contact immediately."
"It is so sweet of him!" Her Ladyship wiped her eyes. "Thank you dear! I will definitely speak to His Lordship about you organizing his hunters' club party this year! Now I have to go and check the kennel, it is probably empty by now!"
"I hope all this noise had not waken my precious little!" Luna transformed the pumpkin back to luxurious closed coach. Securely tucked in a padded bassinette a small blond boy was sleeping soundly. He was naked and in his sleep he had pulled the blanket over his upper body. Dimitar looked at him and conjured pajamas printed in rabbits. When Luna finished putting the garment on the sleepy boy he kissed her soundly. "I think it is pretty lonely to be a single child. May be Marcus will love to have a brother or a sister?" "How about both?"
"You should not have killed his mother! You have just invented her!" snickered the man, counting for a third time the wad of cash from the tips.
"How else would he have gone forever? Any clue by the way who actually did the stint? I can put his name on our wall of fame! We got seventeen bookings, can you imagine! Seventeen today only! We are booked for the entire summer, a good deal of the autumn and two Christmas parties, one with a prepayment already! We made it! I wish to this person all the blessings possible!" The woman looked at the small black rug that was flying in the air behind the minivan. She had the bad feeling that she had already seen it few turns back. At the fork on the road that lead to their small shack she looked at the rear view mirror again and shivered.
"You know what! We have all the rights to celebrate. Let us go to the town and get a decent meal at the pub!" She swiftly turned towards the glowing lights at the distance. They did not call her "witch" for nothing.
Molly Weasley was looking at the pile of well done stakes. The family has already sat for dinner to celebrate Charley's rare visit. His mother sighed, took the last raw steak, threw it on the skillet, counted until five, turned it over, counted to five again and removed it. Fleur levitated the food to the table and served her husband first.
"Mom! My steak is absolutely raw!" Bill was looking with disgust at the almost bleeding slice of meat.
"But you love it zis way honeey!" Fleur blinked. Her eyes filled with tears. Bill took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. "But I seem not to like it any more like this! Will someone cook it a little bit more for me? What are you all looking at me as if I have grown a second head?"
"Your scars! What happened to your scars?" Ginny screamed.
Still holding Fleur's hand in his own, Bill touched his cheek. The scars had gone as if they have never been there. Molly chocked, "But they were there, this morning they were there! I took a photo of you with Charley!" Arthur ran to bring the photo from his desk. As Molly had said, the scars were clearly visible. "This cannot be!" he exclaimed.
Fleur burst in happy tears and smothered Bill's restored face with million of kisses. Molly waited for her turn and finally embraced them both. Ginny was dancing something wild with Ron. The dinner stood long forgotten.
Arthur Weasley looked at the uncharacteristically silent Charley who was looking out of the window. "Why are you so pensive Charley?"
"I believe I know who died today. Fenrir Greyback is dead."
"Nonsence. I would have heard it at the Ministry. They know how tuned I am to this name. Why do you think he died?"
"You remember Borimetchka, the Bulgarian that I told you about. Well, we were discussing with him that out of nowhere the Headmaster adopted a child in Britain and that it matched the description of the werewolf little one that Shacklebolt was wrangling over with the Malfoys. And I told him about Bill and his scars. So the Slavs believe that if you kill the werewolf that made the scars they will disappear. He offered me to fly on his dragon and incinerate the scum but I told him no. It is too dangerous with the Dementors and all. May be someone else did it, or it was a prison browl or whatever. Are you sure he is alive?"
Arthur did not have time to answer. The floo flashed with a ferocious green light and the Minister's deep voice boomed. "Arthur, I need you in the office right now. There is a mutiny at Azkaban. Massive break in. I am sending everyone available to verify if there are people who had escaped. One confirmed death by now. Greyback is dead. He probably set his cell on fire to try to get out but the plan backfired and he died before the aurors reached him. There are only few charred bones left of the bastard. I know you will like this part so now come and help." The floo went black. The Weasley patriarch looked at Charley and muttered, "Damn your Bulgarian stories, sonny! You should spend less time with these Samovilla's people… "
Twenty years later
Several lanterns were glowing over the rooftop terrace. The table was laden with silver and finest china, the food was excellent but the mood around was complicated to say the least. The young Miss Mileva was mentally willing her parents to say "Yes!" to the request for her hand in marriage to the mighty Durmstrang Director's firstborn. Well, not firstborn biologically, but their eldest adoptive son. Marcus Tanassov was outwardly handsome, entertaining and well on his feet as a mediwizard. He was a magician with his cutting equipment, said the entire staff of his muggle hospital. His proud parents were doing their best to charm her parents into agreeing to the union. Her father and mother were not convinced. This is why they have staged the dinner under the fool moon and had brought all the silver around the house. Of course, Milevs were not saying a word about the real reason but used the standard "They are too young for this!" set of phrases.
"You were married when you were how old, you said?" asked Luna.
"Ahem, I was almost twenty-five, actually twenty-four, just started it. But the times were different then!" said Mr. Milev.
"We just want to be sure of something!" finally spitted Mrs. Mileva. The fool moon shone over and bather the terrace in its eerie light. It blinked in Marcus's golden hair, cut by a trendy stylist strand by strand. The candlelight was reflecting from the silver fork he was holding. Both Milevs breathed a sigh of relief.
"You see, we have nothing against werewolves, they have their rights, but we are not thrilled to rear some cubs, no offence, but now that we are sure that you are not a werewolf, it is different. We would not want to let Mila even date someone of that type."
"Woun't you?" Dimitar Tanassov drooled. He winked at his son. Marcus stood up in the silver pool of light, all his impressive height as if inherited from his adoptive father. He took off his dinner jacket and handed it to his grinning mother. The cravat followed, then the silk shirt, the Italian handmade leather shoes, the black socks… Mrs Mileva closed her eyes when he unbuckled his belt and it was up to Mila to support her fainting father. But she had seen the show before for her eyes only and was prepared. "Mom, you can look now!" Her mother opened her eyes and wished she had not.
The fool moon's silver rays were illuminating a magnificent beast with silvery fur and beautiful blue eyes, clad in only silk boxers. He waved a front paw decorated with sinfully expensive Calatrava watch and said, "Shall I call you Mother, or directly Granny as Mila is four months pregnant?" Mrs. Mileva dropped next to her husband.