Remus sat in his room at the Leaky Cauldron nursing a bottle of fire whiskey, still shaken up over what had happened. He had thankfully been in his room at the time he felt the transformation begin.
He remembered vividly how confused he felt, how terrified. He made it to his door, locking it just before he collapsed to the ground.
He remembered looking at his arm, watching as it changed, his fingers turning into claws, but it felt different, more primal, more powerful. He hadn't felt the same pain he normally did when he transformed either.
It felt good, almost euphoric.
He breathed hard, concentration on stopping his transformation, desperately wanting it to end. He couldn't risk turning anyone else, not after what happened to him.
In a moment of desperation, he reached for his wand, pointing at his face as he took a breath, preferring to end it rather than risk turning or worse, killing an innocent.
That was the moment he got the greatest shock of all. His transformation actually stopped, then reseeded.
His wand fell limply from his hand as he took a shaky breath, only for the transformation to begin anew. He panicked, reaching for his wand again. That was when he realized it. It took his active concentration to keep the transformation at bay.
He didn't understand it, but he concentrated, feeling the wolf trying to take over, but somehow he finally had the strength to hold it back. He didn't know how long their battle of wills went on, but eventually he felt the wolf fade back into the recesses of his mind.
He breathed a sigh of relief then, feeling his entire body bathed in sweat as he took a shaky breath.
It was only the following day that he learned what had happened — the attack on the Ministry, Greyback. He didn't know how, but he knew the man who had turned him was behind it somehow.
As he sat in silence, he heard voices coming from downstairs. Tom was talking to someone. His first inclination was to ignore it, but when he heard the name of his godson, something shifted.
He had been afraid to leave his room, but the opportunity to see Harry again pushed him to act.
When the transformation began, he had a moment of warning. That was what he clung to now. It would give him enough time to make it back to his room if things went bad.
He went to his door, peering down over the railing, not willing to risk getting any closer as he looked down at his godson.
Harry walked to the bar, smiling when he spotted Tom behind the counter polishing a glass. "Hello Tom."
"Harry!" Tom smiled. "Good to see you. How are you?"
"I'm alright," Harry nodded.
"I read what happened in the Quibbler," Tom said. "I'm glad you were there, and you made it out okay."
"Thanks, Tom," Harry replied, sitting down on a bar stool.
"Have you read this?" Tom asked, pulling out the latest edition of the Quibbler.
"No," Harry shook his head. "I didn't get a chance yet. What's going on?"
Tom handed Harry the newspaper. "I think you'd better read it for yourself."
Harry looked at the headline, his eyes widening.
United Kingdom Under International Quarantine
By Xeno Lovegood
The heinous attack on the Ministry by Fenrir Greyback and his pack has made international headlines, shocking the international magical community, both with the savagery of the attack itself, and the fundamental change in our understanding of the werewolf curse.
In an unprecedented move, the ICW has unanimously chosen to impose a quarantine on the United Kingdom, restricting all travel to and from the country, for both the magical and muggle population alike.
The muggle population has been told this is due to a viral outbreak, restricting all forms of muggle transportation except for required goods including medical supplies, energy, and food, which are being strictly monitored by the ICW.
We at the Quibbler implore you not to test, or otherwise attempt to circumvent the quarantine, as the consequences will be dire.
An international coalition of aurors is on our borders to enforce the quarantine and is instructed to use deadly force if required.
The international community is operating under the assumption the change to the werewolf curse is exclusive to the United Kingdom, but are also investigating the werewolf communities within their own borders to confirm if this is the case, and moving anyone who is a confirmed carrier of the curse to a secure location within their borders.
"If this is what we think it is," Merlin said, "then it's only a matter of time before the changes in the curse spread worldwide."
Harry nodded grimly. 'And no one knows it isn't the curse that's causing the change, but magic itself.'
As we continue to investigate, it is becoming increasing clear that this was a very sophisticated attack, something that Greyback is not known for, making it far more difficult to predict his future actions.
We previously believed the primary reason for his attack on the Ministry was to cause a panic, and kill as many people as possible along the way, but after finalizing the death toll and injuries, a strategy seems to have emerged.
We at the Quibbler believe Greyback is targeting Aurors, not to kill but to turn them.
The reason for this is simple. By law, any Auror who contracts the werewolf curse will be summarily dismissed from their post.
This has the immediate effect of reducing the Auror forces while simultaneously driving those same witches and wizards into Greyback's camp.
Through our investigation, we also concluded the death toll to ministry officials, including Wizengamot members, was far lower than it should have been, considering the trap Greyback set and the forces at his disposal.
When we examine the declaration he made about creating a society of wolves, it only adds more credibility to the theory as Greyback himself announced wolves should rule over normal witches and wizards.
In response, the Wizengamot has authorized the creation of a werewolf task force to capture Fenrir Greyback and bring him to justice, along with the other members of his pack.
We however remain skeptical of the success of such a task force, and advise everyone to remain vigilant, remain indoors when possible, and avoid large public gatherings.
Harry put down the newspaper, rubbing his brow. "I can't believe it escalated this quickly," he said in disbelief. "An international quarantine? I've never heard of wizarding governments moving this quickly, let alone agreeing on anything."
Remus's eyes widened as he overheard the part about the international quarantine. He had only enough galleons to stay for a few weeks, not indefinitely.
"That's not the half of it," Tom said, moving to sit down beside Harry. "Even before the article came out, less people have been visiting the alley, a lot less, and the ones that come look at everyone like they're a threat."
Before Harry could respond, the music on the Wizarding Wireless cut out, interrupted by a special announcement from the Minister.
My fellow witches and wizards, we are living in difficult times.
After the attack on the Ministry, it has been deemed unsafe to engage in public meetings. That is why I speak to you today on the Wizarding Wireless, rather than at a press conference.
I first want to assure you we are working with the ICW to lift this quarantine as soon as possible and return things to normal, but this requires the capture of Greyback, and all his followers.
The Werewolf task force has many promising leads on the whereabouts of Fenrir Greyback and is investigating all of them. If you have any information to share, any tips, or suspicious activity to report, please address a letter to the Werewolf task force immediately.
A special section of Azkaban has been prepared to temporarily house all werewolves within the United Kingdom. This will include three meals a day, a warm place to sleep, and many other amenities to make their temporary stay as comfortable as possible.
If you are afflicted by the werewolf curse, I ask that you submit yourself to the werewolf task force peaceably, and you have my word that so long as you are not violent, or cause harm to others you will be released upon the end of the quarantine.
Please cooperate with the Werewolf task force and submit for testing when asked. This measure is to keep us all safe and ensure that this dark chapter of our lives will come to a close as quickly as possible.
"…No one has seen Scrimgeour since the attack," Tom said, filling the silence after the wireless broadcast ended. "There are even rumors circulating that Scrimgeour may be injured or dead, and there's someone else speaking for him."
Harry rubbed his face tiredly. "That is the last thing we needed," he agreed. "Did you read how he mentioned a 'special section of Azkaban' has been prepared for the werewolves, but he never mentioned anything about the Dementors being cleared out?"
Tom nodded grimly. "Harry, I'm just a barkeep. Everything that's happening… I've never seen the like. I know people are scared… But rounding up and locking up werewolves that haven't committed any crimes, much less joined Greyback, just so we can feel safe? It doesn't seem right."
"You're right. It isn't," Harry agreed. "With any luck, they've read the Quibbler, and gone to ground, but aside from storming Azkaban, I'm not sure what else to do."
"That one line of Scrimgeour's could have driven even more werewolves to Greyback's side," Tom sighed, wishing that Fudge was back in charge. He at least knew how to handle a crisis.
Remus watched Harry and Tom, eavesdropping on their conversation, and agreeing wholeheartedly with what they were saying, and how quickly things could escalate.
He also couldn't help but notice how similar Harry looked to James when he was younger. He could even see glimpses of the old James in Harry now, before they left Hogwarts, and he became arrogant and full of himself.
"Hello Harry, Tom," Ted greeted as he walked into the Leaky Cauldron, a newspaper tucked under his arm. "Sorry I'm late. I stopped to pick this up on the way," he said, dropping a copy of the Prophet on the table.
"The Prophet?" Harry asked with a sigh, not even bothering to turn it over and read the headline. "Do I even want to know?"
Ted shook his head. "It's not good. All of it's lies, and half-truths, but written in such a way that we can't go after them legally this time."
"What does it say?" Harry asked.
"It's about the attack on the Ministry," Ted explained.
"And that's today's Prophet?" Tom asked, furrowing his brows. "Why is it only coming out now?"
"Most likely because they're not even bothering to investigate on their own anymore," Ted replied, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "It covers the same details the Quibbler did, just slanted to make Harry look bad."
"Look bad how?" Tom asked, feeling his own ire rise.
"Where to start?" Ted replied, shaking his head. "In the same article they called you reckless for attacking the werewolves and causing a panic instead of leaving it up to the aurors to handle, then calling you opportunistic for waiting too long, and only stepping in after your supposed political opponents were killed or injured."
"Unbelievable," Harry said, shaking his head. "Are they really trying to stoke controversy now, just to sell some newspapers?"
Ted nodded. "It gets worse. The attack you did, Harry. The one at the end, they're saying it's dark magic, right up there with the unforgivables, and demanding the DMLE open an investigation into your actions."
"Is there anything else?" Harry asked, feeling Egwu's influence all over this.
"Not yet," Ted replied. "You were the main headline," he said, flipping through the pages of the Prophet. "The only other article of note is something about a shipment of dragon skin being stolen," he added, dropping the newspaper on the bar in disgust.
"I don't think they're done, Harry, not by a long shot," he said flatly. "They're going to look for anything they can to discredit you with."
"Typical Prophet," Tom said, shaking his head in disgust. "That'ssea exactly why I canceled my subscription."
"Does anyone else hear that?" Harry asked, standing up, furrowing his brows as he heard distant voices shouting.
Tom let out a sigh. "Yeah, and I have a good idea who it is," he muttered.
Harry looked at him questioningly. "Who?"
"The task force," Tom muttered. "They've been harassing everyone who 'looks like they don't belong here,'" he said sarcastically.
Harry's eyes narrowed as he stood up, looking at the door.
"Harry?" Ted questioned, standing up as well. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking it might be useful to have my barrister with me when I step outside," Harry replied evenly, stepping towards the door.
Ted nodded, following Harry as Tom watched from the door as three Aurors surrounded a man, their voices getting louder as they continued to argue.
"You already tested me twice," the man said gruffly. "Leave me alone. You already know I'm not a werewolf!"
"Yeah, that was this morning," one of the Aurors said, a nasty smirk on his face. "And you're still here. Who knows? Maybe you got bitten while we were gone. Can't be too safe…"
"All this can go away, you know," another Auror said, pretending to act reasonably, but not trying very hard. "Just tell us what we want to know. We see you out here day after day. You know something about the werewolves, don't you? When's the last time you saw one of them? Where do they sleep? Just give us something we can use."
"I told you!" the man shouted. "I don't know anything about any damn werewolves!"
"There's new legislation coming down soon," the first Auror said in a threatening voice. "Harboring werewolves, lying to Aurors about them — that's going to be punishable by a stint in Azkaban, and guess who we're coming to see as soon as it passes?"
Remus walked down the stairs, standing beside Tom as he watched the confrontation with growing worry.
If the legislation the Aurors were talking about passed, would they arrest Tom? He didn't even know about his condition, and with no way to leave thanks to the quarantine, it was only a matter of time before he was discovered.
"That's enough," he heard Harry shout, cutting through the noise as he stepped forward.
"Get out of here, kid," the first Auror said, barely even glancing at Harry as he spoke before returning his attention back to the man he was interrogating. "Unless you want me to come over there and have a chat with you too."
The third Auror, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, looked at Harry, his eyes widening with recognition before he whispered to the other Aurors urgently.
The second Auror quickly turned around, a smile plastered on his face. "Sorry about that. I didn't recognize who you were."
"Why does that matter?" Harry asked, in no mood for games.
The smile dropped from the second Auror's face. "We're just doing our job, checking the alley for werewolves," he blurted, now far less confident than he was before.
"No," Harry denied. "I saw everything. You already checked him. You're just using it as an excuse to threaten and harass this man."
"Look, kid," the first Auror said. "We're just trying to keep everyone safe, and when the new legislation—"
"If not when," Ted cut in. "But that doesn't matter. What you're doing here and now is abusing your authority. What are your names?" He demanded. "I'd like to see what Amelia Bones has to say about your actions."
"We're not under the authority of the DMLE," the first Aurors snapped. "We report directly to the Wizengamot."
"It's fine, we're done here anyway," the second Auror said, dragging the other two away, whispering to them furiously, but Harry could still hear them.
"Are you crazy, Harkwell?" the second Auror hissed. "You read what he did in the Quibbler, didn't you? What the hell do you think is going to happen when you start a fight with him?"
After the Auror's left, Harry walked up to the man. "I overheard some of that. How long have they been harassing you?"
"Too long," the man muttered, glaring at the backs of the Aurors.
"Here," Ted said, holding out a card to the man. "I'm a barrister. If this happens again, contact me."
"I appreciate it," the man said, not reaching for the card. "But I don't have the galleons for a roof over my head, much less a barrister."
"Don't worry about that," Ted replied. "If they're doing this to you, they're doing it to a lot more people. I'll make sure they don't just bury this."
"Take this too," Harry added, taking out a handful of galleons for the man. "That should be enough for at least a few weeks at the Cauldron."
"Thank you," the man relented, taking the card and galleons gratefully.
***
Remus watched Harry return to the Cauldron and spun around, quickly making his way back to the room, but when he opened the door, he found an unexpected visitor waiting for him.
"Hello Remus," Rita Skeeter said, a cheshire grin on her face as she looked up at him from her chair.
"Rita," Remus grumbled, wondering how the reporter had tracked him down. "What are you doing here?"
"When I found out you were back in Britain, I thought it only right to come say hello, and welcome you back," she replied.
"Well you have, so now you can leave," Remus replied.
"Oh, don't be like that, Remus," Rita dismissed, waving her hand.
"Like what?" Remus snapped, the stress of his situation finally getting to him.
"So unbearably maudlin," Rita replied with a roll of her eyes. "It doesn't suit you at all."
"What do you want?" Remus demanded, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he glared at her.
"Isn't it obvious?" Rita asked. "You're back after almost a decade away. I want to know why."
"There's nothing here for you to write a story about," Remus replied. "I just came to see my godson, that's it."
"You're here to see Harry?" Rita asked, sensing an opportunity. "Why didn't you say so? He's just downstairs. I'll introduce you," she said, standing up.
"No!" Remus replied, more forcefully than he intended before quieting. "I just want to see him," he confessed. "Harry doesn't need to know who I am. I just wanted to make sure he was okay, and then leave."
"Interesting timing," Rita said with a raised eyebrow. "Just when Greyback came out of hiding and went on his massacre inside the Ministry."
"I had nothing to do with that!" Remus growled, shooting to his feet as he glared at the reporter.
"Really?" Rita pressed skeptically. "You expect me to believe all that happened, and you didn't know anything about it? You didn't catch up with your werewolf buddies? Talk about old times? No one let anything slip?"
"No!" Remus denied. "I haven't so much as talked to another werewolf since I left Britain almost a decade ago."
"They transformed in broad daylight, Remus," Rita replied, this time more serious. "People got hurt, people died. Are you really going to keep up this facade, and tell me you don't know anything?"
"Alright," Remus cracked. "I felt it when they transformed, but I didn't know what was happening," he said adamantly. "I stopped it though. I didn't transform, and I didn't hurt anyone, I swear."
"What Greyback did, I was just as surprised as everyone else," he added before finally seeing the gleam in her eyes.
She hadn't been accusing him; she had been interrogating him, and keeping him off balance so he didn't realize it. "You're a real piece of work, you know that, Skeeter?" he said, staring at her flatly.
Rita smirked. "I've heard worse."
"Oh, come on," she scoffed. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't actually believe you were behind the attacks, and if you weren't being so broody, you would have caught on a lot faster."
"Are you saying this is my fault?" Remus demanded, looking at her in outrage.
Rita let out a laugh, clearly enjoying the moment. "Oh, Remus, never change. You are just too precious."
"Then why are you really here?" He demanded.
"I wanted to see if you knew anything about Greyback," Rita replied.
"Then why didn't you just ask?" he said, exasperated.
"And where exactly would have been the fun in that?" She teased.
"Leave, just leave," Remus said, done with the reporter as he sat back down on his bed.
"I need your help, Remus," Rita said, serious this time. "I don't know anyone else that can find where Greyback is hold up."
Remus balked. "Why would you think I would help you after what you just pulled?"
"Do you want to end up in Azkaban?" Rita asked.
"Is that a threat?" Remus demanded, rounding on the reporter.
"No, not from me at least, but that's where this is headed," Rita replied. "You saw it yourself, people who haven't committed any crimes harassed in the streets, rounding up werewolves and sending them to Azkaban without so much as a trial, and new legislation about to be pass that will make it all legal."
Remus felt his anger evaporate as he realized how right Rita was. "I've been gone a long time, Rita," he said, his tone notably softer. "I wouldn't even know where to start."
"Remus, I wouldn't be asking this of you if I had any other options," Rita replied. "And I know you don't want any part of this, but if we don't find Greyback soon, the Wizengamot is going to round you all up, and throw away the key without so much as a trial in their kangaroo court. I don't want that to happen to you or anyone else."
"…I'll try," Remus relented.
"Thank you," Rita said, standing up, "and for what it's worth, I think you should talk to Harry too."
"No," Remus shook his head. "I don't want to complicate his life anymore than it already is. The last thing he needs is a werewolf for a godfather. Can you imagine what the Prophet would do with something like that, especially now?"
"He doesn't care about stuff," Rita countered. "But it's up to you. I won't tell him who you are, but I think he would like to know you," she said, walking out.
***
Andre Egwu sat in the boardroom with the other owners of the Prophet as they argued in circles about how to turn around the Prophet's falling readership and dwindling revenue.
"What about add revenue?" one of the board members asked. "We can just increase add space to make up the lost revenue until things return to normal."
"This is the new normal," another board member snapped, sending a withering glare at Egwu before continuing. "Let's face facts, none of us knows how to run a newspaper, and the only one who did, quit. Ad revenue isn't going to save us, because no one is going to buy ads in a newspaper no one is reading."
"That isn't true," the first board member said. "We had a spike in readership with the last issue."
"And you honestly think that's going to last?" the other board member retorted.
"We can at least build on it, win our customers back," another board member argued.
"That last issue was about the attack on the Ministry," another board member argued. "It was chaos, and we only sold the papers we did because of the shock value, and people devouring every scrap of information they could find. We can't count on that happening a second time, and if we don't change things now, we won't have a newspaper left for much longer."
"That won't happen," another board member denied. "The Wizengamot is backing us."
"And where has that gotten us?" another board member argued. "We have nothing to show for it but falling readership. The public doesn't trust us, and that won't change while we're tied at the hip with the Wizengamot."
"You're right," Andre Sr. said, speaking up for the first time. "We need to win back the public trust, and the only way we do that is by telling the truth."
"The truth?" another board member snapped. "You've got to be kidding me. That hit job you did on Harry Potter — you think that's going to win anyone back?"
"I was there!" Andre Sr. retorted angrily, banging his fist on the desk as the rest of the board went silent. "I know what I saw, and that was it!"
"…Look," another board member said. "We have to face facts. The public doesn't want to hear anything negative about Potter, and as long as we keep printing this stuff," he said, holding up the latest issue. "Things are only going to get worse. We'll have to fire staff and take pay cuts. None of us wants that."
Andre Sr. glared at the board. "Let me remind you, all of you. I am the majority owner of the Prophet. All of you are here as a courtesy. I don't need your input or your permission to print anything I want, and if that means we have to tighten our belts around here, then so be it."
"For now," another board member said boldly. "It's only a matter of time before the goblins sort out everything and complete their audit of Evergreen. We also know collectively those families had a controlling stake in the Prophet."
"After the dust settles, who knows?" he continued. "Maybe there'll be enough of us to outvote you, Egwu, so I suggest you remember who your friends are."
"Maybe," Andre Sr. conceded, but refused to back down. "But until then, I'm the one in charge."
"Egwu," another board member said tiredly. "Be reasonable. You're going to be in charge of a bankrupt newspaper in less than a year if this keeps up. Attacking Potter isn't going to do anything except turn the public against us."
"I'm not attacking Potter," Andre Sr. denied. "I'm exposing him, and that's exactly how we win our customers back," he explained.
"You're going to have to explain that one to me," another board member said glibly. "Because from what I saw, Potter was the only reason the death toll was as low as it was."
"You didn't see the look in his eyes when that dark magic poured out of him," Andre Sr. insisted. "I know you're not blind to it; the Quibbler has a soft spot for him. That's our way out of this hole," he said, trying to convince them.
"We hold Potter to account, we report on what he did wrong rather than heap praise on him. We investigate, we find the truth — that's what's going to win back our subscribers."
"The Quibbler's in bed with him, so they won't do it. We're the only ones who can break this story," he said passionately.
The rest of the board members shared an uneasy look, but without the votes to override Egwu, they were stuck, and they all knew it. They could only hope the goblins finished their audit sooner rather than later, and the missing owners would see sense.
"Good," Egwu said, standing up, taking their silence for acceptance, however reluctantly. "I'm glad we're all on the same page," he added, walking out without a backward glance.
By his count, about a quarter of the board backed him, and with any luck the public opinion on Potter would change soon, winning them back some more subscribers, and getting the rest of them off his back.
***
Rufus lay in bed, sweating profusely as he groaned in agony. He got sick shortly after the attack on the Ministry, and now struggled to even stand properly.
The announcement he made on the wizarding wireless had been pure agony, but the only way to preserve his office.
The last thing he remembered from the attack was something heavy hitting him in the back, and then darkness.
When he came to, it was in the chaotic aftermath of the attack, watching as Harry Potter took charge, directing the Aurors with Amelia Bones eventually joining him as they organized everyone, and searched for survivors.
He stood up to join them, but that was when he first felt something seriously wrong with his arm. It was throbbing in pain, and as he looked down at it, his face went white.
There was no mistaking it. He had been bitten. In a panic, he cast a Ferula on it, wrapping it up in thick bandages to hide the bleeding, then cast a reparo on his shirt.
He remembered the sheer panic and dread he had felt in that moment, somehow giving him the strength to fight through his growing pain.
He got out of there before anyone recognized him, but it had been close. If they figured out he was bitten, his career was as good as over, whether he turned or not.
There was still a chance, however small, that if he applied silver nitrate to his wound, it would stop the change before anyone found out.
He got to his feet shakily, melting in with the chaos around him as he made his way to the front entrance, apparating home before anyone could spot him.
He knew that his absence would be missed, even questioned, but it beat the alternative. Questions he could deal with, suspicions he could deal with, but a bite on his arm was another matter entirely.
He took the two vials of silver nitrate he kept from his Auror days, applying it liberally to his wounds as soon as he arrived home, watching carefully as his wounds slowly healed over the next two days.
He still felt the pain, the agony, but that had to mean the silver nitrate was working, fighting off the curse. He just needed more time to recover. He was sure of it.
Fortunately, over his many years as an Auror, he'd made connections, built a small network both within and outside of the Ministry that owed him favors. One such person was a medi-witch at St. Mungo's.
His first letter had been to her, calling in that favor. She had been quick to act, falsifying medical records to show that he had arrived at St. Mungo's and received treatment for his injuries, then sent home to recover, but nothing to indicate he had been bitten.
His next letter had been to Amelia, informing her of his visit to St. Mungos, and that he would need a few days to recover.
Amelia had of course written back, telling him he needed to address the public, but he had been prepared for that, telling her his injuries were serious, and that seeing him in such a condition would cause a panic, one that would make both their jobs that much more difficult, something she was forced to accept.
He would beat the curse, he was positive of it. He just needed time to recover.
***
Hi! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Things are coming to head after Greyback's attack with pressure being felt on all sides. Any thoughts on the quarantine, or what will happen with Scrimgeour?
Please take the time to review and let me know what you think of the story.
If you would like to support me and my writing, please consider visiting https://taplink.cc/jumpin for all the stories I'm currently working on and early access to chapters 8, 9, 10, and 11 of Legacy of Shadows along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.