"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 400: Isabella Rossi... She's My Sister.
The moment they stepped through the timber-reinforced entrance, a wave of smells crashed over them—damp earth, sulfur, and the unmistakable musk of wild beasts' dens.
In the dim light, Douglas swept his gaze along the rocky walls, noting the caves carved into either side. Behind many of the ragged animal-hide curtains, pairs of wary, exhausted eyes peered out in silence.
A female werewolf clutching a child instinctively pulled her little one closer, her gaze haunted by the terror of survival.
Warriors, their bodies wrapped in crude bandages, leaned on spears with the stubborn pride of wounded wolves—eyes fierce and unbroken, even in defeat.
Hope and despair mingled thickly in the air, each as palpable as the other.
Marco led them to a side chamber, more spacious and hidden than the rest—a makeshift command post. Inside, a rough platform of stacked stones served as a table, and several animal pelts were spread on the ground as seats.
"Please, sit," Marco invited, gesturing to the pelts.
Soon, a woman arrived bearing two rough clay bowls, steam rising from within. The soup was a murky gray-brown, its aroma earthy and pungent—underground mushrooms blended with some unknown root. It wasn't exactly appetizing, but in this place, a bowl of hot soup was a rare luxury.
"Forgive our poor hospitality," Marco apologized, settling across from them with a weary smile. "The tribe has just suffered a terrible blow. There's little left to share."
While Lupin hesitated, nose twitching as he tried to identify the wild, rooty scents, Douglas simply lifted his bowl and downed a hearty gulp.
Lupin felt a flicker of understanding—Douglas's openness wasn't carelessness, but a deliberate gesture of goodwill. Among these battered, suspicious werewolves, any hesitation could be mistaken for distrust. Sometimes, straightforwardness was the only way to break the ice.
Very Hufflepuff of him, really.
"No need for apologies, Chief Marco," Douglas said, setting his bowl aside and meeting Marco's eyes. "In times like these, a roof and a warm meal are more than enough."
"Before we get to business, though, there's something I need to clarify."
Across from him, Marco watched as Douglas drank without a second thought, and some of the tension in his shoulders melted away. But the question caught him off guard. After a pause, he nodded. "Please, Professor."
"The map Isabella gave me was astonishingly detailed—every fallback site, even your core sanctuary. That's not the sort of secret you'd entrust to an ordinary ally."
Douglas's tone was calm, almost conversational. "So, what exactly is your relationship with her?"
The question hung in the air, shifting the mood in the stone chamber. Even Lupin was surprised at how directly Douglas had broached the subject.
A shadow of emotion flickered across Marco's face—surprise, wariness, then resignation. He let out a long sigh, searching for words, and finally offered a rueful smile.
"First, let me apologize. I don't think she meant to keep it from you..."
Douglas smiled gently. "I know. So..."
"My name is Marco Rossi."
Marco's gaze drifted to the flickering fire, his eyes softening with nostalgia and affection.
"Isabella Rossi... she's my sister."
Douglas nodded, a look of understanding crossing his face. Just as he'd guessed.
"That explains why she cares so much about Ashclaw's fate."
Marco's expression softened, tinged with bittersweet pride.
"Isa has always been that way—carrying the world on her shoulders, especially when it comes to me. This time, too, she learned through certain channels about your miraculous improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion."
"She told me, 'Professor Holmes isn't just a brilliant potioneer. He's a wise man, someone you can truly trust.' She rarely places her faith in anyone so completely."
Douglas's lips quirked up. "I suspect she said more than that."
Marco chuckled, caught off guard by the directness—so like his sister. He studied Douglas for a moment, then nodded.
"She did. She told me that the mysterious wizard who humiliated the entire Church a few years ago was you. She said you're the only ray of hope we have left in the darkness."
"If even you can't help Ashclaw, then... extinction truly is our only future."
Lupin looked at Marco with a kind of kinship—if Isabella could serve as an Auror for the Ministry, then clearly their family carried no werewolf blood. That left only one possibility...
Catching Lupin's look, Marco explained quietly:
"Actually, my situation is a little unusual. I wasn't born a werewolf. When I was very young—five or six, maybe—I was bitten by a rabid werewolf."
Lupin's fists clenched in silent empathy. "That must have been... unbearable."
"It was," Marco admitted, his voice rough but grateful. "But I was lucky. My parents, though only ordinary wizards, were willing to risk everything for me. They broke the Ministry's Werewolf Segregation Act—hid me away, told everyone I was sickly and needed rest."
"Those years were... hard. Every full moon, they'd lock me up by any means they could, living in fear and under constant pressure."
"Until I was twelve. An accident exposed me at last."
A flicker of pain crossed Marco's face.
"I remember it perfectly. It was Isabella's birthday. We had guests over. I lost control—transformed early, before the full moon. The chaos nearly ended in disaster."
"To spare my parents, to keep my family from disgrace, to keep Isabella from growing up in fear, I chose to leave."
His voice was heavy with the weight of years.
"I wandered for a long time before I found my way to the Apennines and joined the Ashclaw tribe. Here, no one asks about your past. Every soul here is searching for a home in the ruins of despair."
"Even after I left, my parents and Isabella never truly abandoned me. They always thought of me as a child gone traveling. Over the years, Isabella has done everything she could—sending rare medicines, passing along news about the Church or the Ministry, all through secret channels."
"The last attack by the Order of St. Benedict Werewolf Hunters came so suddenly, so violently—we barely survived. The tribe was on the brink."
"It was then that Isabella reached out to me. She told me about you, Professor Douglas Holmes, and your incredible work."
"At first, her plan was to buy some of your improved Wolfsbane Potion to help me personally."
A complex look—gratitude and helplessness—crossed Marco's face.
"But she knows me. I see Ashclaw as my family now. As their chief, I could never abandon them to save myself—not when we're facing extinction."
"So, after much discussion, we finally decided to take a chance—to send that letter asking for your help, hoping you might come and show us all a way forward."
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