I own nothing but the plot.


"How was it?" Fenrir asked. He was sitting with Bobby Sheldon in an abandoned house a few villages away from Bobby's home in Plockton. There were a dozen Werewolves crowded into the house, and the strange man who was not a Werewolf but seemed to be in charge of all of them had a room of his own.

"It hurt, Papa," Bobby answered. Fenrir insisted that all those he turned call him that. The younger ones especially.

"It gets better in time," Fenrir said.

"It doesn't hurt anymore?" Bobby asked.

"It always hurts," Fenrir answered. "Pain is how you pay for the power. For those precious few hours, you're invincible. You decide who lives and dies. You decide who gets turned and who is prey. You start to look forward to the pain."

"But I don't remember much about it," Bobby said. "It was just a jumble of running. I woke up with blood on me. Who was it?"

"Someone less strong than you," Fenrir said. "They didn't turn. They weren't worthy, so they were merely prey. And don't worry about not remembering much. You get better at that with time."

Fenrir stood up and started to walk away.

"Do you think my Mom is still looking for me?" Bobby asked before he could stop himself. He yelped as Fenrir backhanded him, sending him flying out of his chair and across the room.

"She is gone from your life, boy!" Fenrir yelled, advancing on him. "If you need her so much, maybe we should go and get her. Next month, maybe. We'll turn your mother, and then she can come to hold your hand!"

"No, Papa!" Bobby squealed. "I'm sorry, I won't ask again!"

Fenrir growled at Bobby, and the young boy cowered on the floor at the older man's feet. Fenrir stalked out of the room with a snarl, leaving Bobby to tend to his black eye as best he could.


Halloween fell on a Sunday, and Harry spent part of the day talking with Toma on his holo. Harry communicated with his Jedi Master regularly, but still not as often as he wanted. They spoke of the surprising revelations concerning Peter Pettigrew. Peter was now living with Sirius. The friends supported each other, but both of them still suffered times when the darker memories overcame them. Toma then turned the conversation to Hogwarts.

"So," Toma asked, "How are classes going so far?"

"They're going well," Harry reported. "Professor Snape isn't very happy this year, and I'm not sure why, but all of my other teachers are fine. I'm doing well in all of my classes. Ancient Runes is very interesting, and I can see a lot of applications for it. I don't know if it's possible yet, and it would likely take years to figure out, but I'm already imagining a runic lightsaber."

"What about astronomy?" Toma asked. "We haven't discussed it much, but the last I remember, you wanted to personally introduce your teacher to a black hole."

"We've negotiated a truce," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "She stops insisting that real stellar phenomena don't exist as long as I don't bring up anything she doesn't believe in. I hate it, but it's stopped affecting my grade."

"I know that is a real struggle for you," Toma said. "Please wait until you graduate before you definitively prove her wrong."

"Agreed," Harry said.

"And your friends?" Toma asked. Harry was silent for a moment.

"Are you asking about all of them," he finally said, "or just one?"

"I beg your pardon?" Toma asked.

Harry closed his eyes. "You are concerned about Hermione. You are worried that I am falling in love with her. That I want to be with her."

Toma looked at his Padawan, sensing the nervousness in his young apprentice. He had been expecting this.

"Before you say anything more," Toma said, holding his hand up, "I urge you to consider the consequences carefully. I have a good idea of what you wish to tell me, and I confess I have expected this to come for some time. However, if this is what I suspect, I cannot know."

Harry frowned as he considered this but remained silent as Toma continued.

"If you intend to enter into a relationship with Hermione," Toma said, "then I have no objection off the record. Officially, however, I must tell you that this would directly violate the will of the Council. A Jedi Master often has less freedom about such matters than a youngling. I am bound to the will of the Council. Once you tell me what I think you want to tell me, I will not be able to ignore it. Once I am officially aware of such a relationship, it would be my duty to instruct you to sever all ties with her. If you refused, then certain actions would be inevitable."

"I would be cast out of the Order," Harry said.

"Not immediately," Toma explained. "First, the Council would recall you to Coruscant. I would fight this on your behalf, arguing that any hearing should occur via holo. Whether I succeed or not would depend on the mood of the Council. Whether it occurs at the Temple or here through holo, the Council would question us both. They would pressure you to terminate the relationship and remain with the Order. Your assignment to Earth would likely end."

"I would not agree," Harry said, keeping himself calm.

"I do not doubt that," Toma agreed. "If, however, you refused to end the relationship, they would eventually order your expulsion from the Order. I believe this would occur sooner if you remain on Earth than if you return to Coruscant. If they convince you to return to the Temple, it might take some time for them to give up. Once they finally do, you will be on your own to find your way back to Earth."

"How long would it take for me to return?" Harry asked.

"Without the resources and authority of the Jedi Council," Toma answered, "I could not even guess. Months, at the minimum, as cargo traffic to this area of the galaxy is sparse."

"I'm sure the Council has foreseen this," Harry said. "I haven't exactly been discrete."

"No, you haven't," Toma agreed. "I believe Master Yoda would allow you to leave without subjecting you to questioning. It is not that he does not care, but he believes your destiny lies on this planet. His influence on the Council has diminished, however, with his injury. Whether the Council obeys his wisdom would depend on which factions are more persistent. Some would push for you to return to make a point. Others would be more reasonable. I cannot predict which side would prevail." Toma looked Harry over, sensing his Padawan's disappointment in the probable actions of the Council.

"That is likely moot, however," Toma continued, "as I do not foresee that you would willingly return to Coruscant knowing what would happen. I think I know you well enough to know that you would not change your mind. In that event, as soon as the order to return is refused, your Jedi training will end. Doc and Shooter would receive new orders as well. We would have to remove all Republic technology on our departure."

"Nothing has happened yet, Master," Harry said, "but I think about her constantly. I can feel her thinking about me. If my destiny is on this planet, why does the Council forbid me from being a part of what it means to be human?"

"Because the council is set in its ways," Toma answered. "You are not the first Padawan to fall in love, nor will you be the last. Furthermore, I believe that Master Yoda did envision this, but other factions have arisen to fill the space his injury has created."

"Master Merengus," Harry said, frowning. "He's never liked me."

"No," Toma said, "he has not. Unfortunately, his voice is currently the loudest at the moment."

"I feel like I'm being torn in two directions," Harry said. "The Jedi want me to be a Jedi, then sends me to Earth to be a Wizard, then tells me I can't really be either."

"Have patience, My Padawan. Master Yoda has survived worse than this. I have no doubt he will be leading the Council again soon. When he does, the Council will return to normal."

"It's been months," Harry said, worried for the Grand Master of the Jedi. "Why hasn't he recovered yet?"

"The Republic knows very little of Master Yoda's species," Toma explained, "but they are very resilient and long-lived. I have learned that their young don't even talk for about sixty years after birth. It's not unreasonable that they would take a long time to heal."

"Has Master Yoda said anything else to you about my destiny on Earth?"

"No," Toma answered. "When I bring it up, he only says that the Force will guide you and that your people are needed to help fulfil your destiny."

"We're not going to get into trouble for talking about this, are we?" Harry asked.

"This discussion," Toma answered, "is merely a lesson on the consequences of disobeying the will of the Council. My only suggestion is that you ensure that I do not officially learn of any hypothetical reasons you may have done so."


"My fellow Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot", Cornelius Fudge announced, "I call to order this special legislative session on Monday, November 1st, 1993. I call this session to order for one purpose. My dear friend and former colleague, Madam Delores Umbridge, has advocated for more restrictions on Werewolves for the past ten years. Some of her proposed laws have passed, but many others have not. As a result of our failure to rein these beasts in, Werewolves now wander free in our society. They eat at the same restaurants that we eat at. They shop in the same stores. They work for the same employers. Their offspring may even go to the same school as our children. And now they attack us with impunity."

The assembled witches and wizards whispered to each other, scandalised at the thought.

"It is with profound sorrow," Fudge continued, "that I must report that Delores Umbridge, a former member of our own august body, was tragically bitten by one of these foul beasts only two nights ago. Sadly, as she is now a Werewolf, she is no longer eligible to sit on the Wizengamot. We will sorely miss her, I'm sure."

Several members immediately belied his words, who could not suppress the grin that the announcement caused.

"So," Fudge said, "I re-introduce her Werewolf Protection Act in her name and honour. This law, which we have failed to pass three times, would have protected her from the bite that has ended her career and forced her to live among the shadows. We must rectify this travesty of justice, and I can think of no better way to honour her memory than to pass her most far-reaching bill limiting the exposure these monsters can have on our world."

A stack of parchment packets, sitting on the Clerk's desk, took flight. They flew to the assembled members, and each caught a copy of the legislation.

"As she is now a Werewolf," Fudge said, "she is no longer sitting here amongst us. I have been informed, however, that she has asked for the privilege of speaking to us one last time before we vote on her legislation, which has been named the Umbridge Act. I think we owe it to her to allow her to say goodbye. Let the Werewolf in, please."

The doors opened, and Delores Umbridge walked into the chamber wearing her traditional pink cardigan. She had enlarged the pink crocheted hat she always wore and used it to try and hide the cuts on her face that would never truly heal. The smile she usually wore on her face was gone, and she kept looking back at the Aurors escorting her, who had their wands drawn. She took the floor and faced the members of the Wizengamot.

"Werewolf Umbridge," Minister Fudge said. "As a dark creature, I hope you appreciate the honour I have bestowed upon you by allowing you to speak. You are the first creature to address this body in living memory. Please be brief."

"My fellow colleagues," Umbridge began.

"Former colleagues," a voice from the middle rows of seats interrupted. Umbridge faltered as her eyes found the person who had spoken. Gerald Gwydion stared back at her. Gwydion was a member of the Wizengamot and was on the Board of Directors of several prominent businesses in the Wizarding World. He was also a Death Eater who enjoyed hunting Muggle women. Umbridge knew it, and Gwydion knew she knew it. Umbridge didn't care about the Muggle women, but Gwydion did care that knowledge of his activities not be publicly known. Umbridge had often used that tidbit to get his vote on bills. She had also used his business connections to remove several uppity Muggleborns who had wormed their way into employment at companies he controlled. That relationship had clearly ended now. She took a deep breath and started again.

"My... former... colleagues," she said, struggling to get the word 'former' out. "I would ask that you do not vote on my bill at this time." The members of the Wizengamot muttered at this. "I know you are honouring me by wanting to enact this bill, but this affects me now."

"Yes, yes," Minister Fudge said, "that is very sad. However, I'm afraid there is nothing further we can do for you. The last bill you submitted that we passed forbids any input to proposed changes to our laws by or on behalf of Werewolves or other dark creatures."

"I'm afraid I don't recall..." Umbridge said falteringly. The Clerk of the Court handed her a piece of parchment.

"It was in response to the Wizengamot altering your Employer Protection Act bill," the Clerk said. "It protected employers from recriminations for firing Werewolves. Former Chief Warlock Dumbledore advocated on behalf of several Werewolves. He argued for the Wizengamot to amend the bill to protect Werewolves known to comply with treatment."

"I'm afraid there can be no exceptions to this rule," Cornelius continued, "as that is expressly forbidden in your bill. Do not worry, though. We will strike back at the beasts with your own laws and ensure that all Werewolves everywhere are eradicated from our society."

"But that's me!" Umbridge squeaked.

"Yes, yes," Minister Fudge agreed absentmindedly. "It is time to vote."

Umbridge, observing the smiles and smirks worn by all the people she had trodden on over the years, suddenly dashed out the doors with the Aurors on her heels. She was terrified of what would happen if she were still on the premises when the votes were tallied. She was well aware that the legislation now being voted on called for the arrest of any Werewolf caught in a ministry building.


Dangerous beasts or misunderstood victims?

By Rita Skeeter

With Werewolf attacks on the rise, a new Ministry law has gone into effect. The Umbridge Act adds new exemptions to our laws' legal protections for hiring and terminating employees. Specifically, the new exemptions state that Lycanthropy is now fully exempt from protections under the Employment Discrimination Act of 1967.

Not everyone agrees with this new law, and some are actively speaking against it. Critics say this will make it extremely difficult for any Werewolf to secure and keep gainful employment.

"These changes will create an influx of newly unemployed Werewolves flooding the streets," says Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office in the Ministry of Magic. "With no other options, this will only force them into a life of crime. How do we expect them to feed themselves and their families if they cannot keep their jobs? How can they pay for the necessities of life when their employers can fire them at a moment's notice? How can we demand that they obey our laws when we deny them any benefit of being members of our society? How can we rest knowing that this could happen to any one of us?"

Mr Weasley's concerns, at least on the surface, do appear valid, especially considering the plight of Madam Delores Umbridge (See page 3 for a detailed account of her tragic story). Most of the Ministry is adamant, however, that isolating these dark creatures from the rest of us is the only answer to preventing the spread of this disease.

"Look, I have just as much sympathy for people infected by a Werewolf as anyone," says Amos Diggory, Head of the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures. "Let's be honest, though. Would you really want to work with one of them?"

One Wizard amongst us, however, evidently has no issues working with and beside dark creatures. Albus Dumbledore, the controversial Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never shied away from unusual choices in staff members. From the half-goblin Charms professor to a ghost teaching History, Headmaster Dumbledore clearly values a diverse selection in his staff of teachers. If we are to believe this rumour, he has now gone a step further and hired a Werewolf.

You read that correctly, dear readers. Professor Dumbledore has hired Remus Lupin to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Long since rumoured to be a cursed position, Dumbledore has had difficulty keeping teachers in that particular role for as long as he has been Headmaster of the school. Several students currently enrolled at Hogwarts have reported that while Professor Lupin appears to be a relatively mild-mannered and knowledgable Wizard, they have it on the authority of none other than the head of Slytherin House and Potions Master Severus Snape that the DADA Professor is actually a Werewolf.

We reached out to Professor Snape for comment, but our owl has not returned by printing time, and our letter appears to be lost. We are calling on Headmaster Dumbledore to explain to our readers how he can justify hiring a dark creature, a monster with its own chapter in the current Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, to teach this class.

For your Daily Prophet,

Rita Skeeter


Twenty minutes after the Daily Prophet owls delivered the paper to the Great Hall, the Howlers started arriving. Many of the charmed letters were addressed to Remus and others were directed at Dumbledore. All of them expressed outrage that Lupin was a teacher.


"What do you want, Snape?" Rita Skeeter asked. Severus was waiting for the reporter in a secluded booth at the Three Broomsticks. He had a pot of hot tea and two cups waiting. Dumbledore was at the Ministry dealing with the fallout of Rita's story, but the Headmaster had indicated he wished for a private conversation with Severus that evening. Granted a slight reprieve, Severus had sent an urgent message to Rita Skeeter demanding a meeting.

He had quickly identified the Slytherin students who had outed him as the source of Rita's story. All he had to do was ask what imbeciles had given his name to the press, and their faces had revealed them as surely as if they had neon signs lighting up their guilt. The two seventh-year students received several brutal lessons in subtlety, and he planned for them to pay for their horrifically Gryffindorish behaviour for weeks.

"I was under the impression," Severus said, "that you reporters protected their sources." He carefully maintained his trademark tone of voice. Slow, even-toned, and with a hint of malice under a sneer of disdain.

"Severus," Rita cooed, sitting across from him. "Can I call you Severus?" She did not wait for an answer. "I did protect my sources. The students who contacted me remain anonymous. You just weren't the source. You're part of the story."

"You should be careful," Severus said softly, pouring her a cup of tea from the pot. "I am not a wizard one would wish to be on the bad side of."

"Of course I'm careful," Rita said, dropping her characteristic cheerfulness. "You may be head of Slytherin now, but did you forget I was once in Slytherin too? I know it was a few years before your time, but I'm not that old. What's the first rule for Slytherins?"

"Don't get caught," Severus said.

"Sorry," she said with a smile, "I should have been more specific. What's the first rule for girls in Slytherin?"

Severus did not answer. He stared intently at her as if he wanted to burn holes in her with his black eyes.

"Always watch your back," Rita said. "You never know when someone you annoy will come to put a knife in it. You should know that, Severus."

"Have you annoyed that many people who would stab you in the back?" Severus asked acerbically.

"I was roommates with Bellatrix Black," Rita retorted. "She would have done it for fun."

"And what is to stop me from erasing you?" Severus asked.

"My assurances that should I disappear," Rita said, "a story will appear in the next day's Prophet that will have you in Azkaban for the rest of your life."

"What story might that be?" Severus asked with a sneer.

"Oh," Rita said, her customary simper back in place, "it's a classic tale of tragically unrequited love. A Death Eater boy obsessed with a Muggleborn girl. An overheard prophecy. The undeniable fact that the fault for the Potter family's tragic demise lay primarily with... you."

"What?" Snape was shocked out of his normal aloof visage.

"Don't look so surprised, Severus," Rita said, condescendingly. "I always investigate people who are prominent in my stories."

"I did not kill them," Severus hissed.

"No," Rita answered, "you just betrayed them. Don't threaten me again, Severus. If you do, I'll have you locked away before you can say 'Freedom of the Press.'"

Severus forgot how to breathe.

"As I said," Rita whispered. "Always watch your back. If that's all, I think we're done here."

Rita got up and left, leaving behind her untouched tea. She knew better than to drink from anything Severus Snape had been anywhere near. She was a Slytherin, after all, not an idiot.


"I know what you are saying, Albus," Cornelius Fudge said, "but the people are against it. Howlers are now making it to my desk about this Werewolf, disrupting the government's business. Are you sure it isn't time to accept an Auror as your defence professor?"

"We've been over this before," Dumbledore said. "While I respect the Ministry, there are still far too many in the Auror force, which I suspect were serving the other side in the war."

"I don't see that as a problem," Fudge said. "And why do you? Your own Professor Snape was suspected of being in You-Know-Who's inner circle, and you've kept him on for years."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore explained, "was a spy for me. At great risk to himself, he provided information that assisted in the downfall of many of Voldemort's true followers."

"And where is the evidence of that?" Fudge asked. "From all reports I've heard of the man, he is vindictive and petty. Not a model teacher by any means."

"I can give you only my word," Dumbledore said.

"And yet you reject my word that my Aurors are not Death Eaters," Fudge retorted.

"I do not reject your word," Dumbledore said, "but the safety of my students is paramount. I will not risk it."

"But you will risk a Werewolf as a teacher," Fudge said, shaking his head. "You've always been eccentric, Dumbledore, but this is madness."

"Wolfsbane potion takes away the danger," Dumbledore argued. "He is an excellent teacher and is already a favourite amongst many students."

"I am going to allow you this," Fudge said, "but if he steps a single paw out of line, I will have him arrested."

"I will relay your concerns to him," Dumbledore said.


Professor Snape stood in front of Dumbledore's desk. The Headmaster had not offered him a lemon drop. Dumbledore stood facing away from him, looking out the window. Snape had never seen Dumbledore this angry before. The Headmaster's magic was nearly visible but was still tightly controlled.

"Explain yourself," Dumbledore ordered.

"I have warned you before about him..." Snape started to say before being cut off by Dumbledore.

"I am well aware of your feelings!" the Headmaster snapped, whirling around to face Snape. "I have tolerated your petty attitudes and vindictive behaviours for too long, it seems. You have gone behind my back and revealed information about Professor Lupin, about which I have instructed you to remain silent. You will explain yourself."

"I have acted only in defence of this school," Snape said, his eyes narrowing at Dumbledore, "and the students. You are clearly not willing to listen to me on this matter, so I will explain nothing further."

"I am running out of patience, Severus," Dumbledore said, sitting behind his desk. "I have had to remind you to maintain cordial relations with your colleagues more times than I can count. Two years ago, I had to threaten your employment to convince you to treat your students with even a modicum of respect. While your performance immediately improved, I noticed that you have been backsliding into unacceptable behaviour again. I said nothing, as you had not yet approached the abysmal performance to which you had previously stooped. The silence was obviously a mistake on my part."

"He is a Werewolf!" Snape hissed. "The beasts are roaming the country, attacking at will, and you bring one right into the castle walls! You are either willfully blind to the danger or insane."

"Professor Lupin is not dangerous," Dumbledore said, his voice firm. "He takes the Wolfsbane potion that you brew him. Or are you suggesting that your potions are substandard?"

Snape's face went red at the accusation. "I did nothing wrong," he said. "The Ministry was already aware of his status from Pettigrew's trial anyway."

"The Ministry wisely chose not to publish that information," Dumbledore said.

"They had no right to do so," Snape hissed.

"You will apologise to him," Dumbledore said.

"I will not," Snape responded.

"This is not a negotiation," Dumbledore said. "You are on your final chance, Severus. You will apologise to Professor Lupin. You will then explain to your students about the Wolfsbane Potion. You will tell them that Professor Lupin is not dangerous to them."

"He is," Snape insisted. "He is a Werewolf."

"I understand your opinion," Dumbledore said. "but I'm afraid you have only two choices remaining to you. Apologise to Professor Lupin, teach your students about the Wolfsbane Potion and how it allows Werewolves to retain their human minds, and you will retain your position. If you refuse or continue in your persecution of him, I will have no choice but to terminate your employment for cause. Please choose now."

"I will not apologise to the Werewolf," Snape snarled. "He was a bully when he was a student here, and I see no evidence he has changed his ways. Now Black is free, and Pettigrew has returned. What is next? Will Potter return from the dead to torment me again?"

"You have my apologies, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. "I clearly failed you when you were a student here and allowed far too many offences to go unpunished. That, however, does not excuse your own behaviour. Since you will not abide by my orders, you leave me with no choice. You are dismissed."

Snape's face twisted as he gasped and doubled over in pain. His discomfort only lasted a moment, though, before he straightened again. There was a look of triumph in his eyes as he smirked at Dumbledore.

"Then I shall trouble you no longer," he sneered. "For now."

"Leave immediately," Dumbledore said. "I will have an elf deliver your personal effects to your home."

Snape quickly turned, sending his robes twirling around him as he stalked out of Dumbledore's office.


"If I may have your attention," Dumbledore announced to the students in the Great Hall, "I have a few short announcements. First, I am sorry to inform you that Professor Snape has elected to pursue other employment."

Dumbledore paused to wait for the cheering to stop from three-quarters of the school.

"My old friend, Horace Slughorn, has graciously agreed to return from retirement to take up the subject of Potions and the Head of House for Slytherin. Please join me in a round of applause to welcome back Professor Slughorn."

The entire student body applauded, but the Slytherins looked at the large man suspiciously.

"Secondly," Dumbledore continued, "we have a new rule regarding post owls sent to students. In the past, Hogwarts has had no specific policy on Howlers. While not encouraged, they were allowed, as we did not feel it appropriate to interfere with parent/student interactions. Yesterday's events, however, have had me reconsider. I have activated a new ward, and all owls bearing Howlers will be redirected back to their point of origin. Owls carrying cursed items or dangerous substances will be forwarded to the DMLE for possible prosecution. I am sorry to interrupt your dinner. Please tuck in."


A/N - Rest in peace, Robbie Coltrane! You were the best Hagrid we could have ever wished for!