I do not own Harry Potter nor World of Darkness
Erenhot, Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region, 6th November 1993 (Saturday)
Francesco put down the letter and grabbed his phone.
"Connect me with Harold Zettler."
After a few seconds, the familiar voice of the crazed Metuselah picked up his call.
"Ah, my dear Francesco. What can I help you with? Problems with your new project?"
"Shut it, Zettler! Project Aeneid is doing great, the Mind Feeders are attaching themselves to Psychics even better than anticipated. Perhaps should we try some of them on your brood, you leech?"
"Is there a point to this call, Francesco? You interrupted my snack and if I don't get back to it, the poor boy will try to run. - he chuckled - They are so cute when they think they can get away."
"The point is, you fucking lick, the letter your associates in London sent me. What is this? Werewolves that can't shapeshift? Locked to either Homid or Glabro? If this is an April fool's joke you're about seven months too late."
"I can assure you, my dear, I was as surprised as you when I learned about them. But I figured you might find them interesting."
"If those things exist, and that is a big if, they are nothing like a Garou. They gotta be some mage's fuck-ups. But the real question is how did no one on your team figured out that you and the mages were talking about different things?"
"The secretary assigned to that specific task didn't do his job properly. And before you ask, I was punishing him before your phone call interrupted me."
Francesco scoffed. "That's it? A moron in high places?"
"You'd be surprised how often morons end up in high places, Francesco. Look at yourself."
"Fuck you, Zettler. But that's not the point of the call: what is this about me being the new head of project Wolfsbane? I never agreed on taking on another project."
"But Francesco… you are on the Board of Directors now. It's your responsibility to attend the meetings. You should be happy I was able to find you a body double so you could save face. Imagine how embarrassing it would have been if you didn't show up. And besides… aren't you curious to see what makes these werewolves tick? They could be useful for improving project Lycaon."
Francesco growled. The only reason he hadn't attended the meeting was because a storm had grounded his private jet. How dared this lick send in a body double. The worst part was, this had been a clear power play from Zettler's part. To show him how replaceable he was. He clenched his fist, claws digging into his palm.
"You are not in control of which projects I handle! The Kerasi and the Yeren are the future, not whatever this Wolfsbane project of yours is supposed to accomplish."
"Pointless. I'll set up a group of pro-werewolf activists in magical Britain in your name, you can rally them under your banner and take them to our research facility in Greenland."
"What?"
"It took me quite a while to find an adequate spot in that Umbral Realm of theirs. Had to displace an entire sea serpent reserve to build your new research lab."
"Wait a damn second! I never agreed to this, Zettler!"
"Too bad, don't skip the meeting next time. Oh, and make sure to make an appearance when they make their first rally. I'll send you the date once we organize it."
"Zettler! Listen here, you…"
But Harold Zettler had already ended the call. Francesco howled in rage, slamming the phone on the table with enough force to shatter it.
"FUCKING LEECH!" he shouted, his nails turning into claws as he lashed out against the mahogany desk, leaving deep gashes on it.
He took a deep breath. He didn't need another one of Zettler's fucking pet projects, he already had more than enough in his hands. Projects Lycaon, Iliad, Odyssey and Aeneid were massive time and money sinks, plus the new project Maledictus that was deemed to start sometime next year.
With a frown, he slumped on his chair, picking up the notes once again.
'Condition is transmitted by bite'... ridiculous. Utter nonsense. Being a Garou was something you were born into, not a fucking disease like Zettler's vampirism.
After spending a few minutes in contemplation, he got up and walked out of his office, glaring at his secretary.
"I'm going out. When I come back I want a list of all our research centers in Greenland with the current projects they are involved with, a list of Fomori with a science background and brainstorm a list of possible names for a pro-werewolf activist group composed entirely of mages."
"Sir! Miss Tonks sent an owl asking whether you have any news regarding project Maledictus."
Francesco was about to scream, barely holding it together. Another fucking headache caused by that moronic vampire. He took a deep breath. It should have taken the girl years before she could have a decent grasp of genetics to comprehend the reports she had been given. How on earth had she gone through all of the materials already? Well, if she wanted to work, a new position had just opened up.
"Move project Maledictus to Greenland. At least, the primary test on the confirmed infected. Once we have new test subjects we'll send tissue samples there but keep the subjects themselves separated. If this witch wants to see our goddamn tests, let's bury her with reports."
The secretary nodded. "I'll give Miss Tonks a scientist pass for the new facility, then."
Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts, 7th November 1993 (Sunday)
It was the day of the Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. The weather was absolutely atrocious, the heavy rain made the match difficult to follow, and if it wasn't for Theo and Ron's enthusiasm for the sport, Harry wasn't sure he'd even be at the stadium.
At the very least, the match was about to end. Cedric Diggory had spotted the snitch and was already chasing after it, despite the fact the game had only been going on for twenty minutes. Was there some sort of setting that made the snitch easier to spot during bad weather or was that just a stroke of luck on the Hufflepuff?
But something else was happening: an eerie silence was falling across the stadium, the cheering of the crowd being muffled and the wind, though as strong as ever, was no longer roaring. Almost on instinct, his hand reached for his wand. And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the field below…
At least a hundred dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at his group, were standing beneath him. It was as though freezing water were rising in his chest, cutting at his insides. And then he heard it...
Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head... a woman...
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!"
"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...
A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Harry knew no more.
Harry woke up with a splitting headache in the hospital ward. He sat up and was immediately approached by Professor Pomfrey with a large bar of chocolate.
"Here, Mr. Potter, you will need this."
Harry nodded, taking a bit of the chocolate.
"What happened?"
"Dementors, that's what happened. Broke into the Quidditch Pitch and assaulted the spectators. Seventeen targets, seventeen! The minister must be losing his mind for sending these things to Hogwarts. You should have seen Headmaster Dumbledore after he chased off the creatures. Fudge's office will be assaulted by Howlers by tomorrow, lemme tell you."
"Headmaster Dumbledore…chased them away? - asked Harry. - Is that even possible?"
"Of course it is! That's the whole point of the Patronus charm!"
Harry took a second to consider the idea.
"Professor… Do you think Professor Lupin would be open to teaching me the Patronus charm?"
"Doubtful. It's really advanced magic, Mr. Potter. You can ask him, but… - She pushed him down on the bed and tucked in his sheets - …now you will rest. Whatever conversation you plan to have with Professor Lupin can certainly wait for tomorrow.
DADA classroom, Hogwarts, 9th November 1993 (Tuesday)
Professor Snape had been very intrigued by the various items he had received from Pentex. Almost fifty pounds worth of pictures, samples of various blood, teeth and fur, interviews with victims, interrogation logs with captured creatures and an extensive collection of analysis of all kinds on these Garou. It was undeniable that these creatures were real, well researched and most certainly capable of causing even more carnage than the werewolves he was way too familiar with already. If Remus had been a Garou instead of a werewolf… He shuddered to think about it.
And yet, for some reason, there was no recollection of these creatures anywhere in wizarding society. Sure, they share some minor traits with the werewolves, but compared to these monsters, werewolves looked almost like a poodle puppy pretending to be a wolf with the same grace that Longbottom had when preparing his potions.
He was checking the latest batch of tests, performed on a 'Ahroun Black Spiral Dancer', some kind of rank within Garou society, and scribbled down a few notes in regards to the creature's regenerative ability.
It was at that moment that Professor Lupin stormed into the classroom.
"Severus! What is this nonsense I hear about you teaching third year students about werewolves!?"
"They are part of the curriculum." explained Snape, barely looking up from the documents.
"They are the last subject of the curriculum! You were supposed to help them revise Pixies and Imps, not overtake a subject you have no right to teach!"
"No right? Mr. Lupin, I have every right to teach whatever subject I want, considering you spent the last few days incapacitated after your monthly furry accident. I am the only other teacher in this school that's qualified to teach Defense, if you can't make it to class I'll teach whatever subject of the curriculum I feel like the students ought to know."
Lupin glared at Snape.
"Pick up your stuff and get out of my class, Snivelius."
The two professors glared at each other, contempt and hatred barely concealed beneath the surface. With a frown, Severus broke the stalemate, turning towards the exit. With a flick of his wand, the documents spread all over the teacher's desk flew up, sealing themselves into a cardboard box that flew after the potion Professor.
Lupin took a deep sigh. He had hoped that after all these years Severus had let go of their past, but it seemed like that wasn't the case. He would need to restart on werewolves from scratch, but it was probably best to leave that particular subject for the end of the year and hope that by the time he got to it, the students had already forgotten most of what Snape taught them. Merlin's beard, Harry was already terrified of werewolves, the last thing he needed was Snivelius exacerbating the boy's fear by feeding him ministerial propaganda.
As he was preparing his lesson, he heard a knocking on the door.
"Come in."
It was Harry.
"Good morning, Professor Lupin."
"Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling? I heard about the incident at the Quidditch field…"
"I'm… doing better, I guess. And I was hoping to talk to you about that incident. I was wondering if you would be open to the idea of teaching me the Patronus charm."
Lupin scratched his head, trying to figure what to say.
"I don't know, Harry… the Patronus is a very difficult charm, many adults never learn how to make one. It might be a bit beyond your current level."
"Professor… I'm not trying to master the spell. I just need something to make myself less… appealing. Enough to keep them distracted while I get away."
Lupin stared at the boy for a few seconds. He reminded him so much of James it hurt. He took a deep breath.
"All right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."
Harry nodded, satisfied with the compromise, and thanked the Professor.
Underground bunker, Blakes Woods, 10th November 1993 (Wednesday)
Greyback tossed the newspaper aside. Cowards. All of them! The sheeps were taking away their rights, their destiny, and these cowards, instead of staying and fighting the oppressors, decided to just… run away. Like cowards. Like sheep.
He growled in rage, looking at his pack. Last month they performed the Rite of Adoption seven times. But instead of joining the pack, like proper wolves they had become, they had turned their tails and ran away. To Greenland, of all places. What were they expecting to hunt up there?
The mere thought of his own children running away like cowards made his blood boil. He had given them a taste of true power and they dared spit in his face like this?
No. There will be retribution. He would teach those disobedient childrens the price for disobedience. Once you were marked by the wolf, you belonged to the pack, and the pack belonged to the alpha. Belonged to him.
"Everyone, get ready to march to Greenland. We're taking our family back."
Agdleruussakasit, Greenland, 12th November 1993 (Friday)
"Welcome to Agdleruussakasit, Miss Tonks"
The witch looked around, admiring the size of the new lab. The one in Wausau was big, but it was only a small part of the much larger industrial complex, this… this was something else. An entire village, almost a dozen of four stories houses for researchers and the new patients built in a series of parallel lines. She knew they were werewolves, but she had been assured the houses had switches to make sure no one could get in or out of them once the full moon was out. There were plans to build farms and acquire fishing vessels that were most likely going to be the main source of food for the community. Then there was the main building.
It was a giant complex standing at an imposing seventeen stories tall building made out of glistening steel plates and glass windows.
"That's the new research center?" she asked, wondering how it was possible for muggles to build something of that size so fast without magic. They used some kind of psychic power, probably.
"Indeed it is." said a young man, approaching the witch with an extended hand.
"Miss Tonk, right? I've been told a lot about you."
She shook the man's hand.
"Nothing bad, I hope?"
The man chuckled
"Quite the opposite. You seem to have a knack for this line of work, to be able to pick it up so quickly."
She smiled, trying not to show how proud she was at hearing that.
"Just doing my job, sir…"
"Francesco. Now, let me give you a tour of the facility…"
Notes
Werewolf potine thickens! More mysteries as well as hints of what's to come. Prepare for battle and pick a side: Greyback or Pentex? Who's gonna win? Stay tuned...
Francesco might have gotten his seat on the Board of Directors, but Zettler has FAR too much experience in manipuating people to let something like that from interfering with his machinations.
Tonks is moved to Greenland and will be an important (if minor) character going forward, I hope you like her
Harry learns about the Patronus charm, and we're more or less following the book on that particular plotline... at least for now