Minister Fudge was an idiot who'd gotten his position because everyone had wanted a puppet instead of somebody who'd actually do things. It had seemed a good idea in the wake of the Dark Lord's defeat, and he'd voted for him in the Wizengamot, but Cyrus was man enough to admit he'd been wrong.
The current Minister was an easily manipulated stooge, it was true, and because of this, Fudge could be bought by literally anyone with two galleons to rub together. He bounced between sponsors and yes-men constantly, and both Dumbledore and Malfoy were constantly pulling his strings. It'd created a right mess, no mistake about it.
"What will we do if he manages to come through on his threat?" Cynthia wondered, her mood turning serious.
"If Lucius tries to harm our wallets, he'll be in for a rude awakening," Cyrus declared. After all, a certain Squib had been buying ridiculous amounts of his stock recently.
'I cannot believe he seriously bought that much,' Cyrus thought to himself. The patriarch of House Greengrass still couldn't understand! How had that boy done it? Buying multiple tons of ingredients each and every month, and still wanting more! He'd been forced to open up three whole new greenhouses and an orchard to accommodate the amounts Edward Rose nee Hunch desired. And it looked like that wouldn't be enough.
He'd been able to keep up so far thanks to one of his ancestor's brilliant foresight to preserve excess potion ingredients and keep them for later sale. This didn't work for every product, as some, like Mandragora Leaves, just didn't keep well once plucked, even with magic, but plenty others, especially rather basic ones like Wigentree bark, could keep for decades if stored right without magic, and centuries if stasis spells were involved. And the Greengrasses had been stockpiling supplies for generations.
And yet Edward Rose would deplete these formidable stocks of ingredients within a few years if his buying trends continued!
Cyrus shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't fathom it! All thanks to the boy selling to the Muggle world. Something that still worried the Greengrass patriarch. And yet these huge purchases from the Squib of House Hunch were making him money. Lots and lots of it. Edward Rose bought more in a single month than all of Britain's potioneers did in a year, combined!
The tariffs and taxes the Light and Dark factions wanted to impose on him to force a decision would have given Cyrus some trouble before, but now? They were nothing. A bothersome distraction, at most.
'Perhaps I should reach out to Mr. Rose again,' Cyrus mused. 'Hmm… what was it he said? 'Not White, Black, or Grey, but gold plated?' Yes, I think a 'Gold' faction might just be what we need around here.'
Until then, however, he had a boring Ministry party to endure.
111 &&& 111
Remus Lupin POV
The holidays were the worst, In Remus' opinion. Things started to go downhill around Halloween, when he was forced to remember the deaths of his close friends and the loss of two others.
And it got worse come Christmas, as Remus was forced to spend the time alone without friends or family. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father had passed away shortly after he'd graduated Hogwarts from a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley. One of the first public attacks perpetuated by the Dark Lord's minions, in fact.
Winter was already a bad time to be a werewolf. Fresh snow made leaving tracks behind a pain to clean up after, and it was a lot easier for a Muggle to stumble onto weird footprints when it snowed so much during the season. It was also bloody cold! Werewolves had fur, but not nearly as much as real canines did. A lack of clothing due to the transformation was also a pain to deal in freezing temperatures. Remus had woken up more than once buck naked in the snow. Not a pleasant experience.
Hence, Remus despised this time of year. However, he had hope that things would change for the better in the coming year. Already, he'd seen signs of it.
Finding a job was hard due to his condition. Prejudice in the Magical world kept him from finding gainful employment for very long, and he had no credentials to do much in the Muggle world. The best he could do was take old, broken items, repair them with magic, and then sell them at flea markets and pawn shops. Hardly a stable way to earn a living.
And yet he now had a job that paid well, and had incredible benefits! Remus had been suspicious when Erroneous Hunch's eldest son had sent him a letter, but he'd gone because he didn't really have many other choices.
To find out the former Death Eater's son had been a Squib had been a surprise. To discover he had fully embraced the Muggle world was another. But what really stunned the werewolf was his ambition and drive to succeed. His method had also raised eyebrows.
Seriously, selling magical medicine to Muggles? Insanity! So what if it was technically legal, the Wizengamot and Aurors would have shut him down at the first hint of it! But Edward Rose had done it, and now Remus was making more money than he'd ever done before! In fact, the werewolf was fairly certain he was making more than his own father, who had been a rather high-ranking member of the Ministry before Remus' curse, ever had.
'And all I have to do is use magic to protect the boy's businesses,' Remus mused. It was an acceptable trade-off.
While he was pondering the changes in his life, Remus couldn't help resist when a yawn slipped out. It was growing late, and his Christmas dinner was being digested, making his sluggish and sleepy. The warm, cozy fire was also helping make him tired.
'Better get some sleep,' the werewolf thought to himself. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, and he had plans to have brunch at his boss's house. Little Harry would be there as well, since James and Lily's son was spending Christmas break with Edward.
Remus was glad that Harry was doing well. He hadn't had much time to speak with the boy, yet, but he had let him know who he was through letters. Harry had been understandably upset that Remus hadn't tried to come and try to visit or take care of him, but Edward had come to his defense by throwing Dumbledore under the bus. Something Remus had mixed feelings about.
On the one hand, Remus couldn't help but want to trust the old headmaster. He was a staple of Wizarding Britain, and famous across the world as well for a number of reasons. He'd allowed Remus to attend Hogwarts even after he was bitten by Greyback in retaliation for his father's anti-werewolf laws – which were now being championed by a woman named Umbridge according to what Remus had heard. And for that opportunity, he would always be grateful to Dumbledore.
But it was clear with hindsight that Dumbledore had been less than forthcoming about a number of things. And Edward's scathing rants about the Order of the Phoenix's lackluster ability to fight against the Death Eaters had hit close to home, much to Remus' shame and frustration.
Pushing those unpleasant thoughts aside, Remus rose from his armchair and began to tidy up, levitating the empty tea cup to the sink while adding another log to the fireplace.
Yet before he could make his way to his bedroom, a scratching sound rang out from the front door. Remus froze, head tilted to the side as he listened closely. The scratches… they were being made in a pattern! One he recognized from his days in Hogwarts!
Rushing over with wand in hand, Remus flung the door open, heedless of the cold air that rushed in. It was dark outside, with the only light coming from the house behind him. Yet he was still able to see that a large yet painfully thin wolf-like dog with mangy black fur was staring up at him, tongue lolling. On the back of the dog, there was a small and familiar bat, shivering in the cold.
"Sirius?" Remus whispered in disbelief, staring at the emaciated black dog. In response, the dog began to shapeshift, turning into a tall, gaunt man with scraggly black hair and a ratty sackcloth covering his body and preserving what was left of his modesty. Dislodged from his spot on the dog's back, Wiggles Von Snubs flapped around the newly formed human's head, making cute little noises.
"Hey, Moony," the bedraggled, deranged looking man said, flashing a smirk. "Mind if we come in? It's kinda cold out here."
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