Douglas reached into his coat and produced a folded newspaper, handing it to Marco.
It was a copy of the Daily Prophet.
Marco unfolded the paper. Splashed across the front page, a magical photograph captured Lupin's gentle smile, Hogwarts looming in the distant background.
The headline blazed in bold type:
Werewolf Gospel! Remus Lupin Breaks Free from the Lycanthropy Curse—Douglas Holmes Ushers in a New Era of Magical Healing!
The subheading was even more provocative:
Mr. Lupin Brings Hope to Italy—Aid for Suffering Brethren!
"This is…" Marco's voice was rough, uncertain.
"An invitation," said Douglas, his lips curving into a cold, knowing smile.
"An invitation written especially for Fenrir Greyback."
His voice dropped, low and predatory—a whisper before the hunt.
"What is it that someone like Greyback cannot stand? Not justice, not the pursuit of Aurors."
"It's seeing the fear he's sown unraveled. The curses he's spread, healed. The dark, savage world he built for werewolves—challenged by the rise of a new king."
"He'll see Remus's existence as the ultimate affront to his authority. He'll come—he has to. He needs to tear this hope apart with his own hands, to prove that only he is the eternal nightmare of the werewolf world."
Every word Douglas spoke was like a scalpel, dissecting Greyback's soul with surgical precision.
"So I don't need you searching for a needle in a haystack."
"What I need is for you to spread a message through your network."
Douglas locked eyes with Marco, enunciating each word:
"Tell them you've found Remus, and that you're about to receive my protection—and my cure."
"Then, wait for the wolf to come to you."
"When a wild dog from Britain, stinking of rot and slaughter, follows the scent to your door…"
A hunter's excitement—a glint of cruelty—flashed in Douglas's eyes.
"…you sound the alarm."
Marco stared at the newspaper, at Lupin's gentle smile on the front page.
But in his eyes now, it looked like a wanted poster—a bloody lure, set to draw in the beast.
"This is madness," he rasped, finally finding his voice. "If the news spreads, the Church and the Ministry of Magic will come down on us too."
Douglas shot him a sideways glance, his tone almost amused. "Without this news, do you really think the Church and the Ministry couldn't find you?"
Marco looked at his people—always hiding, always running—and fell silent.
"When they get this news, they'll pause their hunt for Ashclaw. After all, before the prey appears, all the hunters wait in silence."
Douglas rose and walked to the cave entrance, gazing out into the fathomless night.
"So, Chief Marco, in this hunt, we must become the only predators."
Marco took the newspaper and trudged toward Lupin, unsure how to begin.
But Lupin looked up first, his gaze cutting straight through the paper to meet Marco's eyes.
"I saw it, the moment Douglas took it out."
He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly across the smiling face in the photo. There was no fear in his eyes—only a resolve forged by hardship. "He's right, Chief Marco. If you want to draw out a bloodthirsty beast, nothing enrages him more than a healed brother. This is my fight. I've been ready for it a long time."
His voice was calm, but it radiated a quiet strength that steadied every heart.
"It's the fight of everyone who longs to stand beneath the moon again."
Marco inhaled deeply. The mingled scents of food and herbs finally seemed to fill his lungs, chasing away the bone-deep chill.
He and Lupin held a brief, businesslike council—no pleasantries, just the practical exchange of hunters preparing for the hunt.
At last, Marco turned to face his entire tribe.
His voice no longer wavered.
"From this moment, Ashclaw is on war footing!"
The alpha's command snapped the tribe out of their brief comfort and into tense readiness.
"Tonight is your last night of rest. Training begins tomorrow!"
At dawn, the mood in the Ashclaw camp was transformed.
Despair and pain gave way to a taut, disciplined energy.
In the central clearing, Lupin stood tall.
Before him were more than a dozen werewolves, only just recovered from their wounds.
Their bodies were still frail, but their eyes had lost yesterday's deadness.
In its place: a focused intensity, tinged with awe and curiosity.
"Forget your claws and fangs."
Lupin's voice wasn't loud, but it carried to every ear.
"Today, the first thing we learn is breathing."
A ripple of confusion swept through the crowd.
A particularly burly young werewolf spoke up, his voice rough and incredulous:
"You want us to sit and breathe? Mr. Lupin, we respect you, but Greyback won't run from the sound of our heartbeats! We need to fight—we need to know how to tear him apart!"
"That's right!" "We need strength!" others echoed.
Lupin didn't get angry. He simply looked at the young man and asked, "Are you angry?"
"Of course!"
"Then release it—at me," Lupin said, utterly calm.
The young man hesitated, then his eyes blazed. With a low growl, his muscles tensed, a violent aura bursting forth.
But just as he was about to lunge, Lupin seemed to vanish from his sight.
He had merely closed his eyes, his presence stretching long and steady—like a silent mountain.
The young man's fury struck nothing but air, as if he'd punched a cloud. There was nowhere for his anger to land.
He could sense Lupin was there, but couldn't find any opening to attack. Frustration built in his chest—a punch thrown into emptiness.
Lupin opened his eyes, sweeping his gaze over the stunned crowd. His voice remained steady:
"I'm not here to take your anger away. I'm here to teach you how to aim it."
"Werewolves are fragile as humans in most ways, but that doesn't mean we've lost the beast's power. That strength is in your blood."
"What I'm going to teach you is how to master it. Make it serve your will. Don't let it rule you."
He taught no fighting techniques, no offensive magic.
Instead, he had the towering werewolves sit cross-legged and close their eyes.
"Feel your heartbeat."
"Listen to the blood rushing through your veins."
"When anger surges, when fear grips your heart—don't let it control you."
"Listen. Feel. And then… slow it down."
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