Werewolves were human, or humanoid?
The debate had never stopped since the birth of werewolves.
Werewolves were transformed from wizards. They were born from a curse, losing control like wild beasts.
Just like the Quintaped. It had once been born after a wizard made a mistake while using Transfiguration.
With the recent establishment of werewolf communities and the emergence of werewolf councillors, this question had become a heated topic.
Human or humanoid. There was a great difference between the two.
The former meant they were the same kind. The latter meant they were merely magical creatures with human intelligence.
Just as the pure-blood families had once planned, killing a magical creature would not be punished severely at all.
More people leaned toward humanoid.
Although werewolves now had the help of Wolfsbane Potion, allowing them to suppress their bloodthirsty urges during the full moon, the infectious nature of werewolves themselves still made most people keep their distance.
But now.
Werewolves saw the possibility of a cure.
Were werewolves still magical creatures?
—
"The Werewolf Bill Raised Again"
"Are Werewolves Human or Wolves?"
"Is He the Third Dark Lord, or the Saviour?"
"Werewolf Saviour, John Wick's True Purpose"
"John Wick's Romantic Exploits at Hogwarts"
—
As for the last one, John had Tommy take care of it.
With Slughorn's protection, the paper was spreading across the world at a speed that made it a topic of public discussion.
Potions Masters all expressed that, according to what was recorded in it, if the curse could be destroyed, then werewolves had a chance of returning to being human.
Of course, there were some objections as well, but they were few in number.
Although the magical world had a certain absurd quality to it, where all kinds of bizarre jokes and strange stories were sometimes treated as real reports, the credibility of this paper had been greatly increased once authoritative experts stepped forward.
"Is it really possible?"
This was already the umpteenth Hogwarts student who had come to ask.
Such a subversive possibility made the students unable to restrain their curiosity.
"Go read the paper yourself, idiot," Malfoy said disdainfully. "Don't come asking about everything. If John had to answer every single person, wouldn't he be exhausted?"
The Hufflepuff student stammered.
Malfoy clicked his tongue. "Don't tell me you can't understand it?"
The Hufflepuff student blushed and left.
"I've never felt that you could give people such a sense of security before, Draco." John patted Malfoy's shoulder in relief.
Malfoy proudly put his hands on his hips, but after thinking about it carefully, he felt that John was implying something.
What did he mean by never?
Did he not give people a sense of security before?
Malfoy fell into deep thought.
John was also freed from his predicament. Just as Malfoy had said, if everyone came to ask him once, how much time would he have left to answer them?
Besides, while the possibility of curing werewolves existed, their numbers were far too great. There was no way John could do it alone.
What he needed to do was accelerate the equalisation of werewolves.
Once werewolves gained equality, they would obediently go to work, gradually be assimilated by wizards, and return to the wizarding community.
In the past, wizards and werewolves had almost been in opposition, which had given rise to radical werewolves like Fenrir Greyback.
Only a sufficiently friendly world would not make people want to rebel.
With fewer disputes, werewolves might not go extinct, but they would at least hurt fewer people.
This would also bring great benefits to John and Barty Crouch Sr.
However, for those proud wizards, allowing a group of people who could turn into wolves to possess the same rights as themselves would probably be very difficult.
"Difficulty isn't frightening. What is more frightening than difficulty is despair."
John narrowed his eyes. This timing happened to be perfect.
At present, there were three major events in the magical world.
Grindelwald's death.
The election of the International Confederation of Wizards.
The reshuffling and restarting of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
The dividends brought about by the first had almost all flowed toward the Polish Minister for Magic, and the enormous influence brought by those dividends would allow this lone hero to gain a large number of votes.
No one wanted a bad wizard to become their leader. Once the great image of a man serving the people was established, the heroic Inge Griffiths became the one everyone expected to win.
Once the election began, he would become the most popular candidate.
Courage.
A man who should have been the least likely candidate for the International Confederation of Wizards had overturned everything because of this grand death.
Polish magical society was united like never before. Everything their Minister for Magic had done for them earned everyone's praise.
It was as if a switch had been flipped.
Or more like a passing of the torch.
The former Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Dumbledore, had defeated Grindelwald and been elected to the position.
Now, the Polish Minister for Magic had killed Grindelwald, becoming a lone hero who had been enraged on behalf of his people.
"He will be Barty Crouch Sr.'s greatest opponent."
John had never met Inge, but anyone capable of making such a decision was, as he himself had said, a formidable man.
The benefits from the first major event had already been almost entirely consumed, so they needed to find new advantages to increase Barty Crouch Sr.'s bargaining chips.
John chose the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
They were the oldest pure-blood families in Europe, and a natural alliance.
The marriages between the families and their tacit understanding.
As a member of the Crouch family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Barty Crouch Sr. could make use of this right.
The werewolf equality bill.
If it passed, then Barty Crouch Sr. would have accomplished something that shocked the world.
His obstacles came from the other factions within the Ministry of Magic. Among those factions were people from other families, as well as those hostile toward werewolves.
John was prepared to make use of this opportunity, the reselection of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
"Inge Griffiths, you chose to become the people's hero?" John rubbed the silver ring with his fingers. "Then class will become the blade used against you."
Not all pure-bloods wanted to separate themselves from the Sacred Twenty-Eight like the Weasleys.
There were far more than twenty-eight pure-blood families in the magical world, and all of them wanted to enter that long-renowned pure-blood alliance.
It represented not only honour, but also the benefits attached to their families.
John was preparing to manipulate this reselection of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
"When your chips outweigh everyone else's, you can become the dealer."
The corners of John's mouth lifted slightly.
When it came to influence, he was the greatest of them all.
Four members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight were enough to affect the entire alliance.
The Silver Hand Alliance was no worse than the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
"Those who don't listen can get out. Those who want to come in must show their sincerity."
John watched as the black and white owls flew out of Hogwarts.
...
Inverted Garden.
Barty Crouch Jr. picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had thrown away. Looking at the news about the election printed on it, he paused, then turned to look back.
Barty Crouch Sr. stood in the garden, holding a gift box.
His gaze fell, and he saw his own photograph.
The next second, the newspaper was thrown into the rubbish bin.
Barty Crouch Jr. walked away as if he had not seen him.
"Son." Barty Crouch Sr. hurried after him. "Lemon sherbets. Do you remember? They were your favourite when you were little."
He quickly walked to Barty Crouch Jr.'s side and said, "Every time we passed an ice cream shop, you would beg your mother to buy them for you."
Barty Crouch Jr. stopped and looked at Barty Crouch Sr., whose temples were streaked with grey. Expressionlessly, he said, "Is this election of yours meant to show people what a loving father you are?"
"No, no, no." Barty Crouch Sr.'s voice was hoarse as he murmured, "I just... want to be a father."
"The Crouches pursue power," Barty Crouch Jr. said coldly. "They have never allowed family affection to hold them back."
"A heroic son, that is what you wanted," Barty Crouch Jr. said. "And I was never that. You should know very well that all of this is fake."
Yes, Barty Crouch Sr.'s son had not been some hero who had gone undercover at Voldemort's side.
He was a true Death Eater, regarded as a disgrace by the Crouch family and sent to Azkaban.
"A war hero?" Barty Crouch Jr. laughed mockingly. "A light created through political manoeuvring, Minister Crouch."
In his eyes, he was nothing more than a stain from the past that Barty Crouch Sr. had washed clean in preparation for his future campaign.
The father of a hero was far more likely to win votes than the father of a criminal, wasn't he?
Barty Crouch Sr. opened his mouth, then finally closed it again.
Barty Crouch Jr. returned to the wooden house. He glanced at the Minister for Magic outside the door, then shut it.
The most successful Minister for Magic in nearly a century was nothing more than a terrible father.
Barty Crouch Sr. came to the door, carefully set down the lemon sherbets, then left.
The way he looked was nothing like a noble Minister at all.
Barty Crouch Jr. stood behind the door. He knew Barty Crouch Sr. had left.
He turned and glanced at the mirror inside the house.
Even though he denied it again and again, he looked very much like Barty Crouch Sr.
The stubble on his face made him look haggard.
Staring at that face so similar to Barty Crouch Sr.'s, he angrily punched the mirror and shattered it.
The shards cut his fist, and blood dripped onto the floor.
"I hate you, Father."
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