Chapter 1: Help Him

Harry Potter was a very practical man. There was no doubt whatsoever about that.

It was a practicality that had mellowed him with age, and which had brought a much needed tempering to his very long, illustrious career fighting Dark Wizards. In his youth, he could never quite tell or admit to himself when he had been beaten.

Now, at 44, he could clearly discern with a much clearer eye and even clearer head when he was profoundly out of his depth. This current moment was one of those times.

Being a father was hard. Being the godfather of an orphaned boy with a metamorphosis lineage… well, that was proving to be even harder, and not just because the lines between actual fatherhood and guardianship could sometimes get blurred. Sirius had never cared for setting clear parental boundaries – if Harry had had a problem, Sirius had showered him with advice the way that any father or father figure would.

When it came to Teddy Lupin, however, and his current struggles, Harry was ever conscientious about not stepping out of his godfather bounds with the lad. What could he say, what advice could he give, that would make it all better? Perhaps that was just an excuse for the larger problem: that, though he was now grown and a man, Teddy was proving to be such a headache that Harry had absolutely no idea what to do with him.

In raising and guiding young boys, James and Albus – hell, any of his many Weasley nephews – had been teas and crumpets compared to this. Al's misadventures with that Time Turner some years back had even been easier. For, even when up to his most dangerous tricks, Albus had never taken things this far.

Harry had to remind himself that this conundrum wasn't entirely Teddy's fault. And, that if he was at such a loss over how to resolve the situation, then it was comforting to know that so was everyone else. Ron had reminded him that Teddy's condition was unprecedented – and he was right.

But even with so few resources at his disposal, Harry knew of one person who might be able to help. If anyone could think outside the box and help his godson, it was her.

So it was that he found himself knocking on the door to Hermione Weasley's corner office. "Come in," her sweet voice answered through the varnished wood. The Head Auror stepped inside.

Former Minister for Magic Hermione Weasley brushed a loose bang of chestnut hair out of her face as she glanced up from her papers, smiling brightly when she saw who it was. "Oh, hi, Harry!" Harry tried to give her a small smile, but the muscles in his lips would not cooperate; he could feel how it came off as more like a grimace. His ever-perceptive sister-in-law noticed, her own smile dipping in concern. The dapple sunlight from the set of atrium windows behind her glanced off her alabaster skin as she rose and rounded the desk, taking his hand in companionship. "Are you all right? You don't look so good…." She paused, her big, brown eyes widening as she took him in. "Is this about…?"

Harry nodded glumly, sinking into a chair off her desk and slumping down quite far, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose where the spectacles left indentations. Pulling her wheeled desk chair out from behind her desk, Hermione scooted it forward to be closer to him, taking her best friend's hands in hers.

"He's still remanded to that cell in Azkaban?" she bit her lip, asking the question softly.

"I was contacted by the Minister this morning. He says he's going to release Teddy on probation, but if he slips up again, he goes in there for who knows how long. And this time, the charges will stick." He shook his unruly head of black hair in dismay, feeling as though he wanted to cry from the stress. Truthfully, he had hoped that Teddy would just be quietly holed up in St. Mungo's, as had happened before, but this time, the Healers had feared for the safety of their patients. Never mind that Azkaban was technically no longer in use; the last of the Death Eaters, if not already dead, were growing old and close to dying anyway. It hadn't made sense to try and keep up with Azkaban's exorbitant cost in attempting to keep the prison open, even until the straggling holdouts from Voldemort's regime died out. As Minister, Hermione had advocated for the closing, on the satisfaction that even for the younger acolytes who had mostly still been Slytherin students in school at the time of the war, it was sounder policy to introduce them to gentler means of rehabilitation like counseling and community service, which had proven effective. Besides, the American Ministry had been known to close some of their noteworthy magical prisons that had proven too costly – Alcatraz Island in the 60s. More recently, President Biden had closed Guantanomo Bay, on the urging of both the American Minister for Magic and his Secretary for Magical Affairs. Riker's Island off the coast of New York State remained open, and any influx of magical inmates from the previously mentioned correctional facilities were to be transferred there.

Azkaban was a different case. Until fairly recently, it had been the only magical prison in the United Kingdom. But with crime going down, and smaller, less costly prisons being built for the few inmates remaining, it hadn't been feasible to leave the infamous fortress on the island rock operational. Harry now just hoped that the abandoned prison wouldn't serve long-term as That Place to Send Teddy When He Goes Rogue.

Harry glanced up from where his head rested between his knees. Hermione was still staring at him sympathetically, biting her lip. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile, though a tired one, and tried to change the subject.

"How are the children?"

Hermione shrugged. "I think Rose is getting better. She's out of her funk anyway."

"I was worried she was depressed. She and Scorpius were engaged! Molly keeps hoping that they'll get back together…."

"I don't think that's going to happen, at least not anytime soon." Harry knew that Hermione was leaving the condition open-ended. She liked Scorpius, and had been sad when the wedding had been called off. Something about a row. Few in the family knew exactly what it was about, except for Victoire, Dominique and Lily; more than once, Harry had tried to get out the details from his daughter, but she wouldn't budge. Cousin loyalty ran deep in the sprawling Weasley household, and Harry couldn't say he blamed his youngest for being so tight-lipped.

Hermione sighed heavily. "I suppose it's my fault. I'm setting a bad example. I'm a horrible mother…"

"Don't you say that!" Harry admonished her. He had been afraid to ask about his sister-in-law's – soon to be ex-sister-in-law's - own court proceedings, but since she had brought it up…

"How is it going? The divorce."

"It's divorce, Harry. How else could it go but awful?" Hermione sighed, rubbing at her own temples with exhaustion. She and Ron were splitting after 24 years of marriage, and two children between them. Harry knew his best mate was sad but resigned to it. Irreconcilable differences were just that. From what he'd observed, he felt that Ron was at least trying to make it amicable. Even Hermione had to concede this when she said, "There hasn't been any shouting over splitting of the assets in quite some time, at any rate." She sighed again. "The papers should be finalized by the holidays."

"You're sad," Harry said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course I am! No one wants to see their marriage fail!" Hermione sprawled back in her office chair, tears threatening to invade. "I just wish we could get it over with…."

With this, Harry saw an opening, and he grasped for it. "I know you've got a lot on your plate right now, Hermione, but… I'm at the end of my rope, too. Work aside, maybe you need a distraction, to take your mind off the annulment papers. And you've always been up for a challenge."

Lifting her head, Hermione narrowed her eyes at her brother-in-law. "Harry…." in her voice was a warning.

"When Teddy is released, I was wondering… could you employ him to work here, with you? You could keep an eye on him, see that he doesn't get into any trouble." He ran his hands through his messy hair. "There's gotta be a way to move past his…. condition," he stated. "I know we've never seen anything like it before in regards to lycanthropy, but you could do some research. Hell, with Rose and her potions, maybe she could help!"

Truly, he felt bad for what he knew amounted to his offloading his godson onto his best friend, but frankly, Harry didn't know where else to turn. And Hermione had always reliably been able to get him out of a jam. Maybe she could be a voice of guidance to Teddy when he couldn't be right now.

Hermione let out a deep breath. "All right, I'll…. I'll put him to work here in my office and see… see what I can do." Now that her ministry was behind her, Hermione had reverted back to doing what she loved: advocating for the rights of all magical creatures. "When is he released?"

"Late tonight," Harry supplied.

"I'll pick him up for you, if you'd like," Hermione offered. "You should get home to Ginny and nab some sleep. You look exhausted."

Harry sent her a weary, but grateful grin. "Brilliant. Thanks, 'Mione!" And pecking her on the cheek, he swept out of her office.

There was a cool draft in the air as the armed guard admitted Hermione into the grimy, moldy and abandoned corridors of Azkaban prison. The cells were spooky standing empty with no prisoners to occupy them.

Well…. all except one was empty, as Hermione stood back to allow the guard to open the cell door with a metallic clang.

At first glance, this cell seemed as devoid of life as all the rest of them. Both of the back corners were draped in heavy shadow and darkness, broken only by the beam of moonlight from the full moon. Hermione had checked the lunar charts – tonight would be the last full moon for a while. Dawn was less than an hour away.

"Teddy?" she called out tentatively. "It's Hermione. I've come to take you home. Are you there?"

"I can't go with you. I'm afraid."

"Don't be," Hermione soothed, recalling how she used to speak to Hugo when he was little and got terrorized by spiders. Like father, like son, she thought ruefully. "What happened to those Muggles wasn't your fault, Teddy. We know you can't entirely control it. Come on out."

"Then you'll be afraid," Teddy rumbled. His voice was deeper, richer somehow, when he was like this… although Hermione had to admit she had never seen him in this form before.

"I won't be. Never," she reassured him. When a long pause went by without any response, Hermione encouraged:

"Teddy…. Come into the light."

Another beat, and then, one hairy foot slid out of the shadows, as by degrees, Teddy revealed himself to her. As the moonlight cast its beam onto the werewolf that now stood before her, Hermione couldn't help her eyes growing wide in anxiety and maybe a little…. pure fear as Teddy displayed himself in his monstrous form.

Hermione tried not to give away this fear entirely on her face. She still couldn't help but gasp, a little. Teddy was furry from head to toe, fangs protruding from his curled lips and horns sprouting from his head. Every person who suffered from lycanthropy took their werewolf form differently, Hermione knew – Teddy's late father, Remus, for example, had been known to sport a more protruding snout whenever he was transformed. Unlike his father, Teddy's snout was flat in his face, framed by a flowing mane.

And unlike his father, by all conclusions, Teddy had inherited his case of lycanthropy instead of being bitten. After he had first transformed not long after his graduation from Hogwarts nine years ago and Harry had come to her with the theory, Hermione had dismissed it, even if she had also been disconcerted by it. Everyone knew werewolves were made, not born.

Teddy dropped his large and still, Hermione had to admit, handsome head with its shaggy mane dejectedly. "You don't have to say it – I'm a monster."

"Not true," Hermione countered in a whisper. Glancing out the window, she could see that the full moon had sunk from the heavens; the pinks of dawn were starting to appear on the horizon. As she watched, the hair began to fade from Teddy's skin, rippling, almost melting away. The horns shrank, the fangs receded, and soon in the werewolf's place stood a broad-shouldered, frightened youth. His Metamorphosis hair – a trait passed down from his mother, Nymphadora - was turquoise blue, his usual shade. His eyes were a deeper blue, but sad.

Unfortunately, at this moment following his transformation, Teddy was also maddeningly naked.

Blushing, Hermione turned her face away, and tossed him some clean clothes, waiting until he confirmed he was decent. Then, she and her best friend's godson left Azkaban prison together, striding out into the rising sunlight. Teddy was silent and morose at her side.

"What now?"

"No one is pressing charges, mostly because the Muggles whom you… encountered…." (the word attacked seemed too cruel) "…. have had their memories Obliviated," Hermione explained. "But the judge informed Harry that if it happens again, the charges will stick."

"So, I'd go to prison and stay in prison," Teddy grunted glumly. In his face, Hermione noted that he appeared truly scared. Her heart went out to him. There has to be a cure for an inherited case of lycanthropy, she resolved, recalling a controversial conversation she, her future husband and her best friend had had with Teddy's father, years ago, in Grimmauld Place. This was exactly what Remus feared, in having children. And we told him it wasn't possible.

"Come on," she told him, opening the door to the flying Ford Anglia – it had been a wedding present from her father-in-law when she and Ron had first gotten married. It was also one rare point of contention between her and her husband in their divorce negotiations. Ron felt entitled to the car, but Hermione couldn't bear to part with it.

"Where are we going?"

"To my office. I'm putting you to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." When Teddy entered the car, she lay a comforting hand on his arm. "There's nothing wrong with you, Teddy. None of this is your fault. But I'm going to help you. I'm going to try and cure you, if I can. And we're going to cure you, by Merlin." She said it emphatically, trying to boost her own confidence as much as his, shattered as it was. "By…. Merlin."