The Lightsaber
By: Tellemicus Sundance
#07: Never the Same Again
October 13, 1995
Northumberland, England
For all the incredible speed that the Firebolt was capable of, Harry found that he still couldn't outrun the onset of night and had to set down soon. Flying at night was no problem, even preferable to flying during the day. But the problem lie in the simple fact that he still hadn't had dinner due to Umbridge's detention-turned-interrogation, and thus he was starving. Which in turn led him to a major problem that he hadn't realized he had until just recently: he had no money, whether golden Galleons or Muggle pounds.
As he was struggling with the moral dilemma of stealing food, he sensed something peculiar. It tickled the edges of his perception in a way that was similar to, but quite different from his Sorcery. This strange sensation caused him to come to an immediate halt, hovering in place as he reached out his senses to try and verify what it was that he could feel. Interestingly, that initial comparison of it being like Sorcery and yet different stood out quite prominently. Intrigued, he veered off from his southern course and flew off westerly towards where he could feel it coming from.
Flying high in the dark sky, Harry gazed down at the black roads, forested hills, and waving grasslands. Scattered about in seemingly random locations were the headlights of vehicles and the bright glares of streetlamps and city lights. But where he was flying towards was out in the middle of a darkened forested valley. As he approached it, his senses buzzed with the much more familiar feel of Wizard magic like wards, charms, and repelling jinxes. If his senses were accurate, then these unique wards and whatnot were geared towards repelling not only Muggles but also Wizards.
And as he flew closer, rounding one of the wooded hills, he found himself staring at what seemed like a small village. From the air and even to the casual eye, it looked every bit a common Muggle hamlet. But he could feel the magic that hung in the air around it, permeating through it like a fine perfume. This was a magical village of some sort. And that strange tingle he could feel was coming from inside it. What was that tingle?!
Flying in close, he set down just outside the wards. Stowing his broom into his enchanted pocket, Harry approached the village's boundary on foot, passing through the wards easily. Though the wards didn't do anything to harm him, he could feel them pulse outwards from his entry spot, like ripples in a pond. In that moment, he knew that his entrance into the village had been detected by someone, probably the leader or owner. Resting one hand on the hilt of his lightsaber and the other on his wand, both of which hung from his belt, Harry cautiously entered the village.
Looking around, he noticed that many of the people in the streets were behaving much like any other civilians would. Some were talking amongst themselves as they walked towards their destinations, some stood in front of stores and windows looking inwards, and he could hear a lot of loud, raucous singing taking place over at what seemed like a popular pub. And each of the people had that strange tingle was emanating from them, some more strongly than others.
"And what's a young child like you doing out this late at night?" a low voice demanded from a nearby alley in a tone that sounded remarkably similar to a growl.
Looking over at the man, Harry took only a second to blink in surprise at the man. Though he was dressed casually as any other Muggle with jacket over a dark shirt and some worn jeans, there was a certain look in his eyes that just screamed that he was a powerful predator on the hunt. In fact, Harry wouldn't have been exaggerating to say that the man's eyes had the same glow to them as a dog or cat had at night. Though he had his arms crossed and was leaning against the side of the building, partially hidden in the shadows, there was no mistaking the air of danger that the man exuded.
"Just hoping to find a bite to eat," Harry answered truthfully, taking one of his hands to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. "I forgot to bring my wallet from home."
"So, you were just hoping to bewitch one of my cooks into feeding you free of charge?" the man demanded bluntly, standing up straight as he uncrossed his arms.
"If that were the case, I wouldn't have told you I have no money, would I?" Harry challenged, not backing down from the man as he dropped his hand to his side. His other hand started tightening ever-so-slightly around his lightsaber.
"Perhaps," the man agreed, nodding his head slightly in allowance to Harry's point. "But nonetheless, you are in Alba Pack territory and we don't abide Wizards, children or not."
"Alba Pack?" Harry asked, curiosity and confusion evident in his expression and voice. "What's that? I've never heard of 'Alba Pack' before."
"Of course you wouldn't," the man sneered, walking out of the shadows. He came to a stop a few arm-lengths away from Harry, lights of the streetlamps finally giving Harry a clear image of the man. "Why would a boy-Wizard like you know about the Alba Werewolf Pack of Northumberland?" From the way the man continued sneering at Harry, it was obvious he was awaiting for the panic to set in and scare the boy witless.
Blinking slightly, Harry turned and looked around the village street again. So that was why these people all gave off such a strange tingle? Because they were all Werewolves? Now that he took the time to think about it, it made much more sense to him. But, if his senses were telling him the truth, there must've been at least a hundred people in this village. All of them were Werewolves? Despite himself, Harry suddenly realized just why the Ministry of Magic never seemed to have a problem with the so-called Dark Creatures. If they all lived in little, isolated communities like these, it definitely made containing and controlling them much more efficient and easy.
"Who are you and what are you doing here, boy?!" the Werewolf demanded, much more hostilely since he was plainly disappointed at not seeing Harry panic.
"I'm Harry and I'm just looking for some food," Harry repeated, looking back at the man levelly. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."
"Oh no, you don't!" the man barked reaching forward to grab the departing boy by his shirt collar. To the Werewolf's surprise, Harry easily bounced out of his reach at a speed that was surprising. It was a very rare occurrence for a normal Wizard to be able to dodge a Werewolf, especially at such close-range. As Harry turned to face him, the Werewolf let out a loud growl as his lips twisted into a hateful snarl. "Wizard scum!"
Yet again, impossibly, the Werewolf was dodged by the boy as he knelt under the lunge. With a simple application of strength and leverage, Harry easily tossed the man over his shoulder and slammed him down on his back, knocking the wind from his lungs. As he was stepping away from the slowly-recovering Werewolf, the bystanders on the street suddenly ceased their business to turn and watch the spectacle that was taking place.
"Leave me alone," Harry said. "I'm not hurting anyone and have no wish to. You're just going to embarrass yourself in front of all these people if this continues."
"Shut up, ya damn Wizard!" the Werewolf spat, rolling over onto all fours, and glaring at Harry in a stance that strongly resembled his canine curse, complete with flashing golden eyes.
"You don't know what you're up against," Harry stated, unclipping his lightsaber and holding out his free hand towards the man. "And I really don't want to hurt you defending myself."
The man didn't even try to respond before lunging again with even greater speed. Harry leapt high into the air, landing atop the nearest streetlamp while keeping his eye on the man below. Around him, the crowd watched with heightened interest. Unlike with normal Wizards, such feats of strength, speed, and nimble agility as what Harry was demonstrating was nothing out of the norm, especially with the full moon so close. By what caught and kept their interest was the obvious lack of the Werewolf scent that Harry had.
As the man below was preparing to launch himself up after the boy, a loud voice yelled out, "What's going on here?!"
"Hendrick! It's a Wizard!" the man yelled out, immediately turning his attention to the tall man marching through the crowded street towards them. Even from a distance, Harry could see that this was a man who you didn't cross, no matter what, if you valued your life. Powerfully built, with a shaven head, strong jaw, and who moved like an expertly-trained boxer, Hendrick would not have been out of place wearing a Muggle soldier uniform in Harry's opinion. All of which was a massive contrast to the man below him, who seemed little more than a vagabond in shabby clothes.
"I think it's pretty clear that's what I'm not," Harry called down. "Not anymore."
"Why don't you come down here and tell me what you are, then?" Hendrick asked, glancing up at Harry for a moment. Then he turned and glared at the vagabond, "Get lost, Baxter." The vagabond quickly scampered back into the alley from whence he'd come from, clearly terrified of inciting his alpha's wrath.
Only once Baxter was gone did Harry drop back down to the ground, landing lightly just in front of Hendrick. "I'm very sorry about all this, sir. I was just looking for a place to have something to eat and maybe spend the night, and then I'd be on my way."
Hendrick merely quirked an eyebrow at Harry's polite attitude towards him. It was something he very rarely encountered among Wizards, being treated as a person and not a foul mongrel that should be muzzled and put down immediately. Taking a few deep sniffs, Hendrick gazed down at Harry, "You smell like wind, ink, blood, and…nature? What are you, boy? No normal Wizard smells like that."
Harry gave him a partial grin. "I'm not exactly a Wizard anymore. And I'll definitely tell you, just not here okay? I don't want to be attacked again…and could we eat as we talked? I really am hungry."
Glancing around at the members of his Pack who were still lingering around them, Hendrick nodded in agreement. Gesturing to the side, he said, "This way. Don't run off."
Dinner for Harry was a simple potato soup with some bread and milk to wash it down with. During that time, Harry was introduced to Hendrick's wife Maria and their young son Michael. Although Maria filled the silence of the dining room with polite talk ranging from how the wheat crop was abiding the final months of growth to certain bits of gossip she overheard among the other housewives of the village, Harry felt Hendrick's powerful gaze on him throughout the entirety of the small meal. Harry knew that the large Werewolf was watching, observing, scrutinizing for any signs of aggression towards his family. Michael clearly took after his mother, joining her in 'polite' conversation as he eagerly told them how he was going to bash in the face of his rival tomorrow morning to assert his dominance, which his father sternly warned him not to with a slight growl and a narrowed glare. Once dinner was finished and Harry happily offered his help in cleanup in payment for the meal, but Hendrick pulled him aside into the living room to have their awaited conversation.
"Now that you're fed, talk," he stated as soon as Harry entered the small but quaint room. Hendrick took up a place at the doorway, leaning against it slightly with his arms crossed, watching Harry carefully. "Who are you? What business brings a Hogwarts student so far south in the middle of the school year? And what is that thing you were planning to use on Baxter had I not called him off?"
Turning to face the Werewolf, Harry took a breath as he prepared for what he knew would likely become an unpleasant conversation. Holding himself modestly but firmly, he began, "My name is Harry Potter." Seeing Hendrick's eyes immediately fly up to the unmanageable mop that covered his forehead, he reached up and swept back his bangs to expose his famous scar for a moment. Letting his hair fall back down, he continued, "I am not a student of Hogwarts anymore because the Ministry's become infested with the corrupt, the self-righteous, and the willfully ignorant. As you probably know, Fudge has been looking for an excuse to permanently shut me up about Voldemort's return since June, and now he's finally found an excuse." Much to Harry's great interest, Hendrick didn't even twitch at the mention of Voldemort's name.
"And that excuse is…?"
"That I'm now a Sorcerer," Harry admitted, watching Hendrick just as closely as the Werewolf was watching him. "That I now have access to a forbidden branch of magic that they don't understand."
"And people fear that which they don't understand," Hendrick stated, he once again didn't even twitch at the mention of Sorcery. Though he did raise an eyebrow at Harry's claim of learning a forbidden branch of magic. There were many types of magic in the world, and more than a few of them were illegal or forbidden. After a moment of silence, Hendrick gestured slightly at Harry's waist, silently asking about what hung there.
Unclipping his lightsaber, Harry held it up, carefully in front of him and pointed upwards to not startle the Werewolf. "This is what I used to help me escape Hogwarts when Fudge and two dozen Aurors tried to arrest me." Igniting the lightsaber filled the room with a soft blue glow, causing Hendrick to quickly step back into a defensive stance out of instinct. But after a long moment, he relaxed out of it when he saw just what it was that Harry was holding before he scrutinized it carefully.
"That looks like a lightsaber," he observed.
"You know what a lightsaber is?" Harry asked, quite surprised as he deactivated the weapon.
"Of course," Hendrick answered, finally letting out a slight grin at the young teenager. "I wasn't born an ignorant Werewolf or raised as a Wizard. My name was Major Jason Zimmerman of the Royal Army, former SAS officer."
"SAS?!" Harry repeated, surprised yet again. But, even as he reexamined the man before him, Harry realized that his initial assumption of the man being an exemplary example of soldier had been spot on. "Yeah, I can it now. You hold yourself like a soldier."
Hendrick nodded, his face returning to its previous impassive expression. "Then I was bitten by that bastard Greyback back in '87 and had to retire or be put down those Ministry bastards of yours… So, yes, I am quite familiar with what a lightsaber is. It is truly impressive that you could make one. I thought they were just fantasy weapons." Despite himself, Harry smiled slightly. He was finding that he loved it when someone praised his lightsaber, which seemed to be almost everyone at this point.
"What is this 'Sorcery' that has those fools hunting you like a dog?"
"Well, if you're familiar with Star Wars, then Sorcery is pretty much like the Force, but with magic," Harry explained, smirking slightly at Hendrick's raised eyebrow. "What I didn't know until after I started learning it was that Sorcery is basically the most illegal form of magic there is and the Wizarding World doesn't like Sorcerers one bit."
"So what are you planning to do now?" Hendrick asked. "Hide in the Muggle World from on? Challenge the Ministry of Magic? Topple it? Take over the Wizarding World and become its King?"
"There is no way I'll ever become a ruler, too much ass-kissing and too little justice being done," Harry stated sternly. "I'm going to hunt down Voldemort, kill him, and then…I don't know. We'll see when I get there."
"Very well," Hendrick acquiesced, nodding. After a moment of silence, he said, "You have some considerable courage speaking so openly about your intentions."
Catching Hendrick's hidden meaning, Harry explained, "If you had wanted to harm me or contact Voldemort, you'd have done so as soon as you learned who I was. And I don't sense any hostility from you towards me. Your only concern is protecting your family and the Alba Pack…Although, I would strongly recommend keeping a close eye on that 'Baxter' fellow."
Hendrick nodded in agreement. "You may stay the night, but you must leave tomorrow morning. Baxter may be slime, but he's been in contact with Greyback a lot lately. I may not be able to guarantee your safety, should you stay any longer."
"One night, that's more than enough," Harry said, nodding in gratitude. Looking back up at Hendrick, Harry couldn't help narrowing his gaze as his face turned inquisitive. "If you don't mind my asking, but could I…examine you, sir?"
"Excuse me?"
"It's just…There's a very strange aura around you, all of you actually, and it feels like Sorcery," Harry said, watching as Hendrick blinked in surprise.
After a moment of consideration, the Werewolf Alpha finally moved forward, stopping an arm's length from the teenager where he stood awkwardly, not sure what the boy wanted him to do. Reaching his hands out gently, Harry closed his eyes as he delved into the magic around him. He could feel Hendrick's aura much more clearly and he found it utterly fascinating. Though Hendrick himself had no magic (as he freely admitted to), Harry could nonetheless sense a very faint aura of magic emanating from him. The magic did indeed have a strong resemblance to Sorcery, so much so that Harry could only assume that it was once created by Sorcery. But if that aura of magic was created by Sorcery and Hendrick was a converted Muggle, then that must mean that what he was sensing was…
"The Werewolf Curse," Harry muttered to himself, opening his eyes in surprise. Hendrick gazed down at Harry critically, questioningly. "I think…I think the Werewolf Curse was originally created by an ancient Sorcerer."
"How can you know that?" Hendrick demanded sharply, though more than a little curious. "No one knows where or how this curse came into being."
"Because there haven't been any Sorcerers for several centuries," Harry pointed out, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "I can feel it. This is definitely the work of a Sorcerer. But…maybe I can…"
Reaching forward both physically and metaphysically, he laid his hands upon Hendrick's chest, feeling out the Curse. Reaching into the Sorcery that was coating the man, he felt it out, 'seeing' just what its functions were and how they affected Hendrick as a person. For the most part, the Curse worked exactly as Harry assumed it would. A shapeshifting piece of magic that could transferred from one person to another. Extraordinarily heightened aggression, animalistic instincts and brutality, superhuman levels of strength, speed, and stamina, and a monstrous desire to kill and mangle all humans. As he was feeling it out, Harry came to a somewhat depressing realization. This Curse was so tightly wrapped around and merged with Hendrick's body, that to remove it utterly would most assuredly end his life.
But as he began unfurling and examining the various 'layers', he come across something quite disturbing. Harry found that he could also faintly feel the original creator's desire for the Curse, what its original purpose had been. The Sorcerous creator's desire was for an everlasting army of monsters who followed and obeyed on his or her beck and call, to spread fear, chaos, and expand the Sorcerer's domain throughout the entire world, one cursed person at a time. And that desire was best revealed in a strong compulsion that twisted the mind of the person inflicted with the Curse. The compulsion instilled a loyalty and obedience to the creator alone. But since the creator was long dead, this compulsion had become deeply skewed, boosting the aggression levels of the victim to far beyond that of rational people. In effect, the Werewolves hunted, killed, and infected to not only obey their master, but in an irrational way of fulfilling his dying command.
It was this strong but mangled obedience compulsion that Harry 'grabbed' ahold of, clenching his physical fingers slightly into Hendrik's shirt. Then, with a mighty flex of his will and power, he wrenched it apart from the Curse, quite literally pulling a wreathing cloud of sinister black mist out of the Werewolf's body and mind. Holding the maleficent mist as far away from Hendrick and himself as he could, Harry released it and watched it as it dissipated into nothingness. The exertion of it sent Harry staggering away, gasping. But the shock of the magical trauma dropped Hendrick completely down to his knees on the floor, where he panted for a breath as though he'd just run a 26-mile marathon before he collapsed completely onto his side.
"Daddy!" Michael yelled from beyond the room. Rushing in, the six-year-old slammed his shoulder into Harry, toppling him over on his side and as far away from Hendrick as the boy could get him. After a short growl at him, Michael quickly turned back to his father, begging him to answer him and see if he was alright, how he'd taken care of the bully who'd hurt him and would do so again if he was still hurt. They were joined shortly by Maria, who dutifully hurried to her husband while shooting accusing glares at the recovering Harry.
"Calm…down," Hendrick gasped out, finally able to push himself up into a sitting position. Looking at Harry, who was seated in a similar position, he demanded, "What…did you…do?!"
"I…I removed the compulsion," Harry said.
"What compulsion?" Maria demanded, looking between Harry and Hendrick. "What's going on here?!"
"The Werewolf Curse was created by a Sorcerer," Harry explained. "In it, I found out what the Curse was supposed to do."
"And what's…that?" Hendrick said, grasping his wife's hand reassuringly.
"It was meant to help the Sorcerer take over the world," Harry said simply, keeping his face serious and neutral as the Werewolf family stared at him disbelievingly. "The Sorcerer wanted a vast army of monsters, monsters who could spread their curse throughout all the lands, and who obeyed him and him alone. With legions of such monsters under his control, the Sorcerer would, in effect, rule the world." Gesturing towards Hendrick, he finished, "I simply removed the compulsions of obedience and to spread the curse to others. Now, without that messing with your head, you should be able to freely control the Curse now."
"What?!" all three Werewolves asked in varying levels of confusion and disbelief.
Finally regaining his strength enough to stand up to his feet, Hendrick immediately turned and headed outside. Harry just watched him go, content to sit upon the floor and await the Werewolf's return. With his Sorcery, Harry followed the family as they hurriedly ran out of the house, down the street and into the forest glade that was nestled next to their village. He could feel the magic in the air twist and change as the improbable occurred. And when a triumphant wolf howl echoed throughout the village, Harry couldn't repress the small smile of accomplishment that crossed his face.
'Friday the 13th,' Harry thought. 'A long and sad history of bad luck. But, perhaps, this could be one of the few good things that has ever happened on it.' And his small smile only widened when he sensed the approach of a familiar presence winging her way towards him. 'I hope Hedwig isn't mad at me for forgetting her back at Hogwarts… Yeah, she's definitely gonna be upset.'
It was the dawn of a new age for the Werewolves of the Alba Pack. The beginning of a fruitful alliance between those the Ministry of Magic scorned and hunted. And poor Harry wouldn't be getting any rest this night.
October 14, 1995
Great Hall, Hogwarts
It was a pensive Hall that Hermione and Ron came into that morning for breakfast. Conversation was vibrant but muted at the same time, the subject the same one it had been last night. It was a very uncomfortable situation that, in a sad way, both of them had grown used to over the past four years. Thus they didn't pay much attention as the various conversations momentarily were silenced as the speakers all glanced or glared at them as they past, as though they were personally at fault. Well, Hermione ignored them for the most part while Ron just shot the ones glaring at them a glare of his own.
Taking their seats, Hermione quickly began filling up her plate as she tried to focus on what she could accomplish this day. It was Saturday and although she'd already finished her homework, it never hurt to reread ahead and review her homework. Add in about an hour's worth of time to nag Ron and Ha— Ron to do his own homework. Maybe, if she had the time and inclination, she could try piecing together the clues that Harry had left her on how to construct her own lightsaber. At that thought, Hermione reached up and lightly touched the small necklace she wore under her robes, her beautiful green gem hanging from it like a piece of highly exotic jewelry.
"You'd think they'd be use to this stuff by now," Ron grumbled lowly next to her, hunched over his own plate as he began eating.
"Harry being an illegal Sorcerer, using an unknown weapon that helped his defeat twenty-six experienced Aurors, dismembering Professor Umbridge, knocking the Minister of Magic aside, and being expelled from school?" Hermione summarized quietly. "Those are pretty extreme circumstances. They'll be talking that for decades to come, if not centuries. What I want to know is how the Ministry's going to handle this."
"I know," Ron said. "After everything that happened, that's not something you can just sweep under the rug."
A familiar flapping of wings drew the attention of the students as the morning post arrived. Hermione waited patiently for one of the owls to land near her to drop off the Daily Prophet. Dropping a few Knuts into its little pouch, she bade it farewell before grabbing the newspaper and starting to read.
DEVASTATING ATTACK AT HOGWARTS!
MINISTER OF MAGIC ISSUES FRANTIC SEARCH!
Yesterday evening, High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge uncovered evidence of illegal magic practices taking place in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Taking the matter to Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, the High Inquisitor and Minister rushed to Hogwarts with two dozen Aurors to put a stop to what was discovered. However, upon their arrival, they were immediately beseeched by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, claiming that no such practices were being done and that he couldn't 'in good conscious' allow the Ministry to fully investigate the claims.
That was when Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, attacked! Using a strange weapon he had somehow created, he was able to quickly and easily defeat all of the Aurors in less than a minute! During the battle, even High Inquisitor Umbridge was gravely injured, getting her right arm completely cut off by the boy's weapon! Even the Minister of Magic couldn't land a spell upon him due to the magic weapon the boy possessed. And what did Headmaster Dumbledore do when he saw one of his students so casually mocking the Ministry and its justice system? He let the boy go without a fight! How can this man be allowed to remain as the Headmaster?!
What was this weapon that the young Potter wielded? No one knows, but it was very much a sword of pure magical light, capable of repelling all manner of spells and curses with no difficulty at all. Although the Ministry scoured the school for hours, searching for clues to the weapon, even questioning Potter's closest associates, nothing has come to light in regards to this weapon, how it works, what it's made of, or where the boy got it. But what is known is that the weapon is highly dangerous, capable of cutting through solid rock with ease, deflecting spells that not even the most powerful of Shield Charms can, and is clearly made of highly Dark Magic. The Ministry knows this because when taken to St. Mungo's for treatment on her dismembered arm, the Healers were unable to heal, repair, or replace the High Inquisitor's severed arm! A weapon that can nullify even healing magic can only be the product of Dark Magic!
Due to his unwarranted attack, crippling of several Witches and Wizards, including the High Inquisitor herself, Harry Potter has been designated as the #01 Undesirable and is wanted for questioning and imprisonment for his acts against the Ministry of Magic.
Though his whereabouts are presently unknown, the Ministry of Magic strongly cautions all Witches and Wizards who come across Harry Potter to immediately contact the Ministry of Magic and the Aurors. The boy is armed, unstable, and extremely dangerous to all around him.
"How interesting," Hermione said, just barely managing to hold her temper in check.
"What?" Ron asked, glancing over at her. He hadn't stopped eating, just waited for her to read and explain to him the gist of what was written. Which was probably a very wise thing to do, she knew he would've likely lost his temper very quickly.
"The Ministry is hiding the reasons why it tried to arrest Harry yesterday," Hermione said. "Nowhere is it mentioned that Harry is a Sorcerer. Sure, it goes into considerable detail about his lightsaber and how he defeated the Aurors, but that's it."
"Oh, of course there isn't," Ron said, earning a questioning glance from Hermione. "Fudge basically broke the law yesterday, and bungled it big-time. So he doesn't want it getting out, I'd guess."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Remember, Hermione," Ron said, a slight teasing gaze in his eyes. He was clearly enjoying being the one to explain things to her for once. "Sorcery is one of the highest laws in the Statute of Secrecy. That means it was Fudge's responsibility and obligation to tell the ICW about Harry being a suspected Sorcerer. They have a Sorcerer-hunting law enforcement group dedicated to locating and arresting Sorcerers to preempt them from gaining too much power and skill. They are experienced against Sorcerers."
"And the common Auror likely isn't," Hermione said, quickly realizing what Ron was saying. "So probably Fudge must've wanted to gain the 'prestige' of capturing a Sorcerer, real or not, to help him reinforce his position politically. He didn't contact the ICW for help. And now that Harry escaped, he's going to try and cover it up for as long as he can until he can capture Harry for real this time."
"Exactly," Ron said. "I sent an owl to my parents last night, explaining everything that happened. They should've written to the Daily Prophet or even contacted the ICW by now to expose the truth."
"Not likely, little brother," Fred (or was it George?) said as the twins took up seats across from the pair.
"We heard Fudge telling one of the Aurors to block all outgoing owls," said the other twin, his face quite grim with barely hidden anger behind his eyes.
"So no one knows what really happened here, except for those that actually saw it."
"And it'll probably stay that way for the rest of the year."
"But on the plus side, at least Harry was able to get rid of Umbridge."
"I doubt she'll be back any time soon."
No sooner had those words left the twin's mouth than did the Great Hall begin to fall silent as heads began turning towards the entrance. Interested in what had drawn the attentions of the others so easily, the brothers and Hermione all turned and stood up slightly to peek over the heads of others. There, marching through the doors up towards the Professors' table quite proudly, was Dolores Umbridge. Her right arm was wrapped up in a cast and hung from a shoulder-sling, showing off the fact that she was so grievously wounded that evening prior.
"What is she doing here?!" Ron hissed lowly.
"I think we're about to find out," Hermione answered, watching as Umbridge walked past them and came to a stop in front of the Professors, specifically Headmaster Dumbledore, who had risen to his feet.
"Professor Umbridge, I'm pleased to see that you—"
"Spare me your pleasantries, Dumbledore," Umbridge interrupted. Awkwardly reaching into her robes with her left hand, she pulled out a long roll of parchment and handed it to the Headmaster. Though her back was to the student-body, there was little doubt in any of their minds that she was sneering in triumph. "AlbusPercival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have been hereby relinquished of duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts, effective immediately by the unanimous decision of the Board of Governors, to be replaced by me, Dolores Jane Umbridge."
There was a long moment of silence that hung heavily over the entire Great Hall. No one would ever truly know who did it first, but in the end it didn't truly matter. In next to no time, the entire body of Hogwarts students all climbed to their feet and cried out unanimous shouts of denial, anger, and disgust towards the newly-minted Headmistress Umbridge, even the Slytherins.
- Excerpt from DobbyElfLord's story - 'Weres Harry' -
October 16, 1995
Diagon Alley, London
Remus Lupin was casually seated outside one of the restaurants, watching the magical shopping alley as he idly finished his meal. As always, Diagon Alley was filled with customers and vendors. The different shops buzzed with activity and the shoppers entered and exited with constant frequency. The Werewolf had wanted to check out the mood of the alley, following the spectacular fallout that was occurring since Harry's forced departure from Hogwarts. Suffice to say, that there was an air of frightened energy coursing through the people. Hushed conversations and inflated rumors about all the terrible things that Harry had reportedly done since entering the Wizarding World seemed to be the favorite subject of the people for the past few days.
It was as he was watching the passing shoppers for signs of known Death Eaters or their sympathizers when he spotted her. She approached him pointedly, which wasn't that surprising.
"Charisa," he said in greeting.
"Lupin," she replied.
"It's been a while."
"Six years," the woman agreed. "Since the last time you deigned to visit our pack. But you managed to become a Hogwarts professor – at least until your true nature came out."
Remus considered the woman. Charisa became a Werewolf at fifteen and was shortly thereafter thrown out of her parents' house. The teenage witch had been a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts and had just finished her OWLS when her life changed. She was taken into a pack shortly thereafter and developed a potent hatred towards the 'normals' for the rejection of her friends and family after her infection. She'd been shocked to learn the older Gryffindor that had just finished Hogwarts had been a werewolf his entire time at Hogwarts. Remus suggested she talk to Dumbledore about completing her schooling but she declined. The packs were leaning toward the Dark Lord and she refused to turn her back on the only ones to take her in and help. Besides, unlike Remus, her family made her infection public and even Dumbledore couldn't get a known werewolf included in the student body.
The last Remus had seen the woman she'd become the second to the Alpha Female of the Welsh pack. One of the five Packs of Albion, the Glyndwr pack claimed the forests of Wales as their hunting grounds. It was the largest pack and only Fenrir Greyback's pack in southern England had more sway across all the packs of Britain and Ireland.
"And to what do I owe this honor of you and your friends visit?" Remus asked as he indicated the three male werewolves behind her with a nod.
"A fortuitous event," Charisa answered. "The community needed some potions supplies and I had little choice but to come here." Remus could hear the disgust in her voice at the thought of mingling with 'normal' witches and wizards. "But when I saw you, I wanted to pass on word. There is to be a Gathering. Greyback seeks to unite the packs under his leadership once again. But you know the Pack Laws – everyone will have a voice and anyone that does not attend will be exempt from the Pack Law until the next Gathering. You must attend."
Remus sighed resignedly. He'd already been keeping in fairly close contact with the Werewolves since Voldemort's resurrection. Greyback may be many terrible things, his persistence was definitely one of his 'better' points of character. The bloodthirsty Werewolf wouldn't stop until he'd achieved his mission from the Dark Lord in reuniting all the Packs back under Voldemort's control once again. Greyback was positively relentless in his obvious quest. Thankfully for Remus's peace of mind, a lot of the Werewolves had grown somewhat accustomed to the peaceful life in these past few years and were rather reluctant to let them go.
The female werewolf's expression changed slightly to one of reluctant curiosity. "There's something else going on. The Alba Pack called for a Gathering of their own, but Hendrick made it quite clear it was about an issue that was completely unrelated to the Dark Lord."
"And what would that be?" Remus asked, suddenly rather interested.
"We don't know," Charisa admitted, looking both sheepish and disappointed. "Hendrick only said that it would completely change the lives of all Werewolves in the world."
The Alba Pack of Northumberland was one of the smaller packs and wielded the least amount of 'political clout'. Though none of other Werewolf Packs would ever say so, for fear of inciting a savage civil war between them, the Alba Pack was generally seen as the weakest and least ambitious since the Alphas rarely ever wanted to invite confrontations and to challenge the authority of the Ministry of Magic who so oppressively controlled their lives. For them to suddenly call for a Gathering, then something of great importance most definitely must've happened.
Charisa looked back at Remus. "I hope to see you there, Lupin." A small, flirtatious smile crossed her lips. "Maybe we will have the opportunity to discuss old times." Without another word she turned and continued down the alley, her escorts taking positions to her rear and flanks without a word.
"Oh, I'll be there," Remus promised himself. 'Something that could change all our lives? What could that possibly be?'
October 17, 1995
Circle-of-Stones, England
The meeting about to take place was located in a small valley filled with a light forest. Standing almost dead-center in the valley was a circular clearing that was less than a football field in diameter. And in the center of that stood what looked like to Harry almost a replica of Stonehenge, though nowhere near as degraded, weather-beaten, or in a state of ruins. This Circle-of-Stones, as Hendrick had called it, was of great importance to the Werewolf Packs of Great Britain.
Ahead of them Harry could hear a number of people talking and laughing. An enhanced sense of smell was not required to smell the wood smoke coming from the large bonfire that was burning. The clearing was dominated by the huge bonfire filling the center of the stone circle. It was at least three meters high and the fire blazed brightly. Harry wondered if it was a magical fire or petrol-fuelled, it burned so bright and hot. The perimeter of the clearing was lit by torches on long poles. Clustered near some of the torches were heavily-laden tables filled with food; mostly meats of various types. Harry could easily detect the scents of beef, venison, and pork. Smaller campfires with logs for benches were located not too far from these tables.
But the most remarkable thing was the people to be found within that clearing. Harry reckoned there were close to 500 people standing, dancing, and talking around the fires and tables. Harry was slightly surprised to see that roughly half of them were women. Most of the crowd wore the rougher clothing of outdoorsmen, but he spotted a few in more traditional kilts and others dressed in Muggle biker jeans and leathers. Not a sign of fine clothing or court shoes in sight, which was a huge relief to Harry. This was about as informal as it could get.
"Come along, boy," Hendrick said, keeping his large hand latched onto Harry's shoulder to keep the boy from getting pulled or drawn away from him. "The meeting is about to start."
"Right," Harry mumbled, still taking in the sights with an air of appreciation. Despite how much he was sure their lives were troubling and unhappy, these people didn't seem to let it get the better of them. From most of them, he could sense a rather surprising amount of acceptance. This was the only type of life they were allowed to live, and thus most of them would just take it if it meant they could be left in peace.
"Remember, Harry," Hendrick said, keeping a watchful gaze at the many different Werewolves that were around them. "You are here as a guest. Do not speak unless spoken to, unless you have a death-wish."
"I can take care of myself," Harry said, admittedly somewhat childishly. Seeing his Werewolf guardian's sharp glare, he quickly added, "I'll keep that in mind, I promise."
"…Good," Hendrick growled. A second later, a loud horn sounded, causing much of the partying, eating, and conversations to die out around them as all of the gathered Dark Creatures turned towards the center of the clearing.
"COME!" a voice boomed out. "COME NOW TO DEAL WITH HOW WE CAN SUPPORT THE ONLY WIZARD THAT CAN GIVE US OUR TRUE POWER!"
Through the crowd Harry could see a huge, grizzled looking man in rough, dirty clothing. Even from a distance Harry could see the sickly yellow eyes and he could sense the madness inside of them. Fenrir Greyback had arrived at the Gathering.
Following in Hendrick's shadow and staying as out of sight as he could with the three other Alba Werewolves who were accompanying them, Harry joined them near the fire's edge. He was standing at the back of the group, but could easily hear and see everything ahead of him. And, if he so desired, Harry could step out in front of them in just a few paces. With the massive flames of the bonfire as a dramatic backdrop, the five different Alphas gathered around a large circular stone table. The stone was at just the right size to accommodate the five Werewolf Alphas, their Betas, and a pair of bodyguards, and still have enough room to be comfortable.
"Speak, Alpha Fenrir," one of the Werewolves said in a formal tone.
"The greatest Dark Lord in history has returned to our shores! The Dark Lord plans to drive the weak, corrupt Wizengamot and Ministry from power and replace it with a government for the strong! With the Packs' combined might, we can assist in this great effort! In return the Dark Lord has sworn to offer us the choicest 'recruits' for the Packs! Further, he promises to set aside a great reserve for each Pack to rule and hunt as their own! The bloody Ministry laws that keep us down will be struck down! Any werewolf would be equal to any pureblood wizard!"
"All the Dark Lord asks is that we support him in this campaign. We would strike at remote villages – take the strongest for the Packs and destroy the rest. The Ministry will waste their strength trying to protect everyone while we gain strength with each raid. Then once Dumbledore and the Ministry is humbled we would help control the population until the prey is settled to their new yoke."
"Now this Gathering must decide to support the Dark Lord in his endeavor! Failure to do so will risk the Packs destruction! The Dark Lord does not forget his friends and his enemies do not live long enough to be forgotten! DECIDE NOW!"
Greyback looked like he was about to continue with his rant, but Hendrick slammed one of his hands down on the stone. The blow was hard enough to jostle the entire structure for a few moments, surprising all of the Alphas and thankfully silencing Greyback, though not for long as his narrowed gaze immediately suggested.
"We have heard your pleas time and again, Greyback," Hendrick growled. "Your obsession with this Dark Lord is neither charming nor objective to the safety and security of our people."
"And what would you have us do, Hendrick?" Greyback snapped. "Cower in our homes whenever the Ministry comes to raid, brand, and bully us like sheep for the slaughter?! You are a disgrace to all Werewolves!" Even without his Sorcery, Harry could've felt the tension multiply by several magnitudes at Greyback's blunt and open insult.
But rather than take the insult to heart, Hendrick turned and looked at the other three Alphas. "Rather than waste our time discussing a subject we've already decided on months ago, I wish to bring up a new topic. One I'm sure all of you have been wondering about."
"Yes," one of the Alphas drawled out. This Werewolf was dressed as a woodsman with a flannel shirt and overalls. "This 'revelation' that will change our lives forever. What does that mean, Alba?"
"I have recently made the acquaintance of a truly singular young man," Hendrick stated. "He came my village, asking for a simple meal before he'd be on his way. But, during the course of our conversation, he became interested in my Curse and wished to examine it for himself."
"And what is so groundbreaking about that?!" Greyback demanded, very impatient and angry at having his thunder stolen by the otherwise isolated Alpha. "Thousands of Wizards have tried to analyze and cure or remove the Gift for centuries!"
"It turns out, this boy possessed a magical talent that is extremely rare in the Wizarding World," Hendrick continued, ignoring Greyback as he kept his focus on the other Alphas. "As a former Muggle myself, I don't pretend the understand the implications of just what it is he can do that makes him such a danger to them, but the fact remains that he has learned a branch of forbidden magic. And through this magic, he was able to…cleanse me and my Pack."
"What?!" the other Alphas, even Greyback, demanded.
"Cleanse? What do you mean?"
"Who is this 'boy'?!" Greyback snarled, before he tried glancing around Hendrick's large profile. "Is he that boy with the weird smell standing behind you?"
"Indeed," Hendrick acknowledged with a nod, gesturing over his shoulder for Harry to approach. Moving cautiously forward, one hand on each of his weapons, Harry slipped into the firelight to become visible. Thanks in large part to his hair, he wasn't immediately recognized due to his curse scar being hidden from sight and the fact that he no longer needed or wore his glasses anymore. "Tell them, boy."
"I am a Sorcerer," Harry said, watching as the other Alphas all flinched backwards reflexively at the revelation for a second before regaining control of themselves.
"WHAT IS THIS?!" Greyback hollered, immediately jumping to his feet. "A SORCERER?! You! You're no Sorcerer! Sorcerers are only the mightiest and darkest of all Wizards in existence! NO MERE BOY COULD POSSIBLY BE A—" He was abruptly silenced, hands raising and clasping his neck as his windpipe was suddenly pinched shut.
"You really like to yell, don't you?" Harry asked, his hand held up and extended towards Greyback, his fingers pinched as though he were physically holding the Werewolf's throat shut. This passive demonstration of a power that no Werewolf had ever seen a Wizard use quickly convinced the other Alphas that Harry was indeed what he claimed to be. Glancing around the stone table, Harry saw that all of them (especially Greyback's following) were on edge, ready to lunge for his throat or flee for the forest, whichever was necessary depending on what he did next.
Looking back at the choking Greyback who was quickly starting to purple, he said, "Now why don't you let me and…Alpha Hendrick finish our story?" With that said, he released Greyback, causing him to collapse to the table's surface, heaving for breath.
"Is it safe to assume that that wasn't even a fraction of your power, boy?" one of the Alphas asked. This Alpha was dressed like biker, all leather clothing with some colorful and rather inappropriate tattoos for civilized society.
"Yes," Harry said, nodding, watching as Greyback slowly pushed himself off the table and shot him a hateful but fearful glare. "As I was saying, I am a Sorcerer. And when I met Hendrick here, I could feel the Werewolf Curse on him. It interested me because I'd never felt anything like it, so I asked him to let me study it. And through that, I learned what makes it a Curse."
"And that is…?" the Woodsman Alpha asked, quite interested.
"The Curse was originally created by an ancient Sorcerer," Harry said. "That is why no Witch or Wizard have ever been able to get rid of it. Because they don't access to the knowledge and insights that Sorcery can provide. Anyway, the Curse is a very complex combination of several Charms, Jinxes, and…compulsions. Like the compulsion of obedience towards the Curse's creator. But because the creator is long dead, the Curse no longer has a purpose, causing all of those inflicted with it to lash out at the creator's enemies, which were all of humanity."
"The boy was able to remove those compulsions from my Pack," Hendrick said, once again regaining the attentions of the Alphas. "Once he did that, it was like a vast, dark cloud had suddenly been lifted from our minds. We could control ourselves. We could…change ourselves, whenever we desired to! Our Curse is gone!"
Before the other Alphas could object or question such claims, the two guards who stood protectively behind Harry and Hendrick suddenly changed. The entire process of transforming from human to Werewolf could take several minutes for a normal Werewolf, and was usually a very painful process to experience. But the two guards' transformations seemed to shift and flow from them like running water and less than a few seconds were fully transformed into their wolf forms. This predictably had all of the Alphas and the gathered crowd on onlookers recoiling in shock, cries of surprise shrieking out from many of them. To silence the rising din, the two Werewolves leapt up onto two of the larger stone columns and let out loud howls that echoed off into the distance, quickly silencing the crowd as they all gawked at what they were seeing.
Once the din had settled somewhat, Hendrick continued, "As you can see, this isn't just some fantasy. It is real. And the boy has agreed to perform this on every one of us."
"Only if they're willing," Harry quickly added. "This is a choice for the individual to make…Although, I do strongly recommend all of you to take it."
"So, that's your game!" Greyback barked, shooting to his feet once again. "You wish to subservient us to your will by 'removing' our Curse? And I suppose that then you'll start asking for 'little favors' from us to repay this act of kindness, right?!"
"Why would I do that?" Harry asked, quite confused.
"Why do you think, boy?!" Greyback shot back. "You want to make us the cannon-fodder for your army and then leave us to rot once you've taken over! Well, my Pack will not have any of it!"
"You really are loyal as a dog, aren't you?" Harry asked, staring at the Werewolf in disgust. "What you claim is exactly what your beloved master will do to you and yours without a second's hesitation."
"LIES!" Greyback hissed furious. "And you're not even bother trying to deny that you would either!"
"Because I know you won't believe me even if I say I won't," Harry countered. In response, Greyback let out a loud snarl as he stood up and stormed off, leaving the Gathering utterly. Much to Harry's secret relief, the near-feral Werewolf's bodyguards kept looking back constantly, yearningly. They wanted to get rid of their Curse, or at least control it, as much as anyone would've. That was good news; they'd bring what they'd learned back with them to their Pack.
Turning back to the other Werewolf Alphas, he said, "While I do not claim to understand much about your Packs or your people, I think I do understand that you live under the Ministry of Magic's control with no say in what you can or can't do. But what is the Ministry's control over you truly about?"
Seeing that the Alphas were listening to him, he continued, "It's that they rightfully fear that you can't control yourselves in the light of the moon. They don't want Werewolves to expose their little Garden of Eden to the Muggles. But if you could control yourselves, you'd take away their power and justification to imprison you. And wouldn't that be worth it, all on its own?"
That question caused the Alphas to all chuckle in response.
"But perhaps the better question is this: I'm offering you a chance to change your lives, to learn how to control your Curses. Can you really pass that up?"
There was a short, contemplative silence as the Alphas carefully thought over everything they'd seen, heard, and learned. Then Alpha Biker looked up and asked, "Perhaps a demonstration of your power? Just to prove to us that what you've shown is actually what you claim it is."
"Of course," Harry agreed, nodding in acceptance. "I'll happily do any volunteers, from any of your Packs."
Immediately, several Werewolves moved forward from the crowd. Some of them were staring at him with open yearning and restrained hope. Others were glaring with suspicion as obvious in their eyes as it was in their postures. And yet others just watched him with neutral expressions on their faces, though that still failed to hide their emotions from his Sorcery. Taking a few steps away from the stone table, Harry gestured a young girl who couldn't have been more than seven to come before him.
Ignoring her suspicious glare, Harry stepped up to her as he said, "This will leave you tired and weak for a few minutes. I recommend you take a seat, so you don't fall over when I'm done."
"I'm not kneeling before you!" the girl growled out with a vicious, challenging glare.
Unperturbed, Harry just shrugged as he placed one hand upon her chest and the other on her forehead, "Very well then." Taking just a moment to gather his concentration and connect with the Curse, he wasted no time in seizing hold of it and pulling out the corrupted parts of it from her. As the black mass was extracted, the girl let out a pained and surprised gasp, staggering back a few steps before collapsing to the ground in a graceless heap.
The surrounding crowd of onlookers all stared, gasped, cried out, and all manner of the forms of expression as Harry held up the churning blackness for all to see for the precious few seconds that it could exist before it dispersed on its own. The crowd was cycling through a wide and wild kaleidoscope of emotions, though confusion, fear, hope, and astonishment were among the most common. Harry watched for a moment as the girl's aura fluctuated wildly for a few seconds before it settled down and the girl's body began to recover almost immediately. He smiled slightly as she quickly found the strength to push herself up off the ground, and knocking back her worried parents and neighbors as they tried to verify that she was alright.
Turning to one of the other Werewolves, he called out, "Next?"
"I'll go next," a familiar voice spoke up from behind Harry, causing the boy to jump slightly in surprise.
"Remus? What are you doing here?" Harry couldn't stop himself from asking.
"A better question would be: what are you doing here?" Remus demanded, glaring as he waited impatiently for the boy to explain. "Shouldn't you be in Hogwarts?!"
"I'll…I'll tell you later," Harry managed to get out as an irrational nervousness overtook him in the presence of his former professor.
Thankfully, a few seconds later, a familiar shift in the magic told him the obvious as the girl immediately began transforming into her wolf-form, for the first time in her life, of her own accord. The small Werewolf let out excited yips and barks as she pranced and jumped about, drawing the jealousy and astonishment of the crowd in the process. Watching as the little wolf enjoyed herself, Harry's small smile returned with greater force. If he was reading the situation right, then those who were born with the Curse were excited to be able to control a part of their 'personalities' that they've never been able to before. And those who were bitten and forcefully converted into Werewolves were happy and relieved beyond mere words because their seeming eternal nightmare was finally coming to an end.
But then he set his jaw and prepared for what was obviously going to be a very long night. After all, he had on the upwards of 500 Werewolves to 'work his magic on' before they'd likely let him go.
(Author's Note) To answer the question that some of you haven't seemed to have gotten, I was inspired by 'The Force Unleashed II: Launch Trailer' for the fight scene of the previous chapter.
PS: To any aspiring artists (preferably someone with some talent and experience), I hope I could commission a fanart picture for this story. If anyone's interested, or if you know someone who you think could do it, please PM me (Subject: Fanart Picture). Thank you!