"You wanted to see me, Hollins?" Mr. Potter said as he came into his office. He shut the door behind him and sat down.
Hollins nodded, rubbing his forehead. "There's… a bit of a problem with my… pupil, Mr. Potter."
"Saibhir, right? What did she do?"
"Not so much what she did as what she is. She's a werewolf."
There was a pause. Mr. Potter tilted his head to the side, as if he expected to hear more.
"And?" he finally said when none was forthcoming.
"And… so I let her go."
Mr. Potter's eyes narrowed. "I suggest you think very carefully about your next words," he said.
"Carefully? Sir, she was a monster, a monster who put us all—"
"I was completely aware of her condition when I accepted her application," Mr. Potter said, standing up.
"Then why didn't you inform the rest of us?" Hollins demanded, standing as well.
"She requested it be kept private," Mr. Potter said, his brows drawn together. "Specifically in case anyone reacted like you are now! Are you still living two decades ago? The Minister himself is working on repealing anti-werewolf legislation because, surprise, they are not monsters!"
Hollins took a step back. "Sir, with all due respect—"
"Respect?" Mr. Potter said. "Where was your respect when you were sacking a nineteen year old kid?"
"Monster."
"One of my dad's best friends and the father of my godson was a werewolf and he was no monster," Mr. Potter said, his fists clenching. He took a deep breath and straightened up. "I'll be speaking to you about this later. But for now—where did she go?"
Hollins snorted. "I told her to go back to whatever hol—ome she had. But sir, the new secretary said she was spying for the other side, and threatened to attack her tonight. Don't you think we should look into that?"
Mr. Potter paused. While it was certainly a serious accusation, and one he would be forced to look into, it wouldn't entirely surprise him if it had been leveled against Saibhir out of spite.
"I will look into it personally," he said. "And Hollins, if—when I find out she's perfectly innocent, you'd best start clearing out your desk."
Mr. Potter Apparated outside the tiny flat and sighed when he heard frantic movement coming from within.
He sighed again and knocked; the sounds stopped for a moment before resuming at a faster pace.
"If you don't open this door, Saibhir, I'm opening it myself," he said.
No response.
"Three…"
Pounding footsteps.
"Two…"
A bag was zipped up.
He tapped the doorknob with his wand and threw the door open just in time to catch a glimpse of a white-faced Saibhir Disapparate.
He looked around the ramshackle flat and ran his hands through his hair. She'd run, yes, and while that was certainly suspicious, maybe he could find some clues as to where she was going or what she was planning.
A lone stuffed Dalmatian toy sat on the rickety bed, forgotten in the girl's rush to leave. He picked it up, gently. His own kids weren't much younger than she was, and she and Teddy were the same age, if he remembered correctly. He couldn't even imagine James, or Albus, or Lily going through what Saibhir must be feeling right now.
He set the toy down on the bed and looked around. There was a calendar pinned to the wall, painstakingly counting down the days until the next full moon: tonight. A flurry of maps that had been tucked on a shelf were spilling over an open book on the counter below. He pushed the maps to the side and found it was a record of known werewolf attacks throughout the centuries.
There was nothing unusual about the book as he flipped through the first few pages, but when he reached the 1950s, things started getting interesting. Saibhir had circled specific attacks:
December 13, 1951 - Samuel Veritas, 5 - Killed. Body found near home in Little Kressinghen.
April 18, 1954 - Ruth Raleigh, 7 - Bitten, status unknown. Discovered in home in Northwold.
It was an incomplete list, he could tell, judging by the blank spots between different months. It wouldn't surprise him if many attacks went unreported; a lot still did, even to this day.
It was when he noticed Saibhir's untidy scrawl that he finally began to piece together what she was doing.
February 16, 1965 - Remus Lupin, 4 - Bitten, survived. Home ?
And, a few pages after that:
March 28, 2002 - Freak, 4 - Bitten, survived. Back garden, Lakenheath.
So she was going after Greyback. He sighed as he looked down at the scribbled word she'd used in place of her name. How much did one have to hate oneself before willingly using that name? He looked at the maps that had been strewn about the desk and picked up the one marked in red. Several towns circled in ink surrounded Thetford Forest, upon which Saibhir had drawn a large X. So that was where she was headed first.
Mr. Potter picked up the map, folded it, and tucked it inside the book before picking up the stuffed toy and contemplating it.
If ever there was a werewolf that could truly be called a monster, it was Greyback. He was almost amazed that nobody had thought to track him this way before, but then he remembered how incompetent the Ministry had been during his childhood and snorted.
"Good on you, Saibhir," he said. "I'll see if I can't find you tomorrow."
A/N: And so we get into the meat of the plot...