The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

Filled Up With Werewolves

"Mr. Scamander?" Dumbledore questioned - his voice edged with the same anxiety that covered the faces of all but Queenie, who had heard her answer already in Newt's mind, her nervousness melting away as she turned back to the phoenix.

"All - all the wolves are s- sound asleep," Mr. Scamander reported, dropping tiredly into one of the few open seats before Dumbledore's desk. He heaved a sigh, one of his suspenders slipping off one shoulder, his greying auburn hair hanging in a messy clump over his forehead. Tina reached 'round and straightened the suspender, taking the seat beside Newt and nodding appreciation as Dumbledore waved his wand, making a cup of tea appear before her. She sipped it gratefully. Newt reached up and wiped a smudge from her cheek with his thumb, and she blushed slightly.

"So the Wolfsbane is working well?" Dumbledore intoned.

"Ex-exceptionally well," Mr. Scamander nodded.

Dumbledore smiled, "A feat to which we owe our potions master a most heartfelt thanks."

Slughorn looped his thumbs through the sash about the waist of his burgundy velvet sleeping robe, proud of his accomplishment. "Think nothing of it, nothing of it..." murmured Slughorn. "Only it is lucky that Damacoles Belby trusted his old potions professor with his recipe. Owed me a favor, you know," he added, winking at McGonagall and Urquart, "Having been in the Slug Club back in his days at Hogwarts, it was I, after all, who introduced him to his contact at the Ministry."

Urquart - the contact in question - nodded, "That you did, sir," he answered, "And a fine acquisition he's turned out to be indeed." When Slughorn had puffed up with these words, Urquart snuck a small smirk to McGonagall, amused at the pompous old potions master.

"A fine acquisition!" McGonagall huffed, "Indeed, seeing as he's only found the way to cure werewolves of their symptoms!"

"Not cure, honey," Queenie injected, having seen the effects of the wolfsbane in the images floating about in the minds of Newt, Tina, and Slughorn, who was still nervously dabbing his forehead. "Only to tame. They're still wolves, you know."

McGonagall looked slightly put off by being not only corrected by addressed as honey, but it made Elphinstone's slight smirk only deepen. He squeezed her fingers and she said, "Taming werewolves is as good as curing them for many of those who suffer the condition."

Dumbledore nodded, "Well put, Minerva."

"If only it wasn't such a terrible hard thing to brew!" Slughorn said, "All the stores I've made since the middle of summer, used up in one full moon! And not enough ingredients, or time, to create enough more for to cover the needs of next month..."

Dumbledore replied, "Put together your list and I shall see to it that you have whatever it is you need to provide at least Mr. Garm, per our agreement of hire, with his monthly dosage."

Slughorn nodded, and returned to wiping his face quietly.

Tina looked upset. "What of Mr. Veigler? And our son - Bradley?"

Dumbledore started to answer, but McGonagall cut him off, "And -- and Mr. Lupin?"

Horace Slughorn's eyes turned on Minerva McGonagall's in concern at the name, but he didn't speak.

"I've contracted the promise of the potion to Mr. Garm first," Dumbledore replied, "And any stores that are obtained thereafter shall be distributed accordingly to the others." He paused, "Though I do expect once the report of the wolfsbane's success reaches the Ministry, they shall be most pleased to begin distribution through their own programming."

Elphinstone Urquart nodded. "Assuming they aren't too caught up in the thought of the horror of the Hogwarts dungeons being filled up with werewolves, that is... stolen werewolves at that," he added.

"Stolen or not, the Ministry ought to be able to overlook the details..." Dumbledore murmured. "But then," he ceded, "It is the Ministry. Sometimes, they lose sight of the forest for the trees, so to speak." Dumbledore put his tea cup down and walked over to the window of his office, staring out at the moon hanging high above the castle in the inky black sky. "After all," he murmured, "Taming werewolves from the effects of the full moon... The potion is for the greater good. It isn't as though there are any other ways to tame a werewolf that have yet been discovered."

The wolf form of Remus Lupin lay curled about the form of Snuffles. They lay on the broken down couch in the living room of the Shrieking Shack. A sliver of moonlight sliced the floor, illuminating dusty pawprints and empty plates on the floor. On the arm of the couch, tail curled about the oblong body, lay a rat, snoozing, clutching a last bit of bread between his spidley paws. The wolf snuffed in his sleep and kicked a little, the dog adjusting his head to nuzzle comfortably into the warm folds of the wolve's thick silver-brown fur.

It was on his way back to the office on the fifth floor that Frek stumbled over something protruding from behind one of the suits of armor. He lit his wand and held it high, illuminating the headboy and girl, who had fallen asleep in their hiding place, curled around one another. James Potter's arm had slid into the corridor and been the thing which Frek had tripped upon. The headboy's eyes opened slowly as the light of Frek's wand glowed over them. 

"Ye best be goings to bed," Frek murmured, "Afore you've been caught by Messer Filch."

"Blimey," James murmured, sitting up quickly, nearly tipping Lily over. "Evans, love. We've fallen asleep in the corridor."

"Hmm?" Lily murmured.

James drew his wand carefully, lighting it, and then scooped Lily up gently, clutching her to his chest. "Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, slipping out of the little alcove quickly, carefully mindful of Lily's head so as not to bump it as he turned. "We were - er - doing our rounds and took a bit of - of a break." He flushed.

Frek nodded, "Of course yer was," he answered. "Off to beds with you," and he shooed them off.

James carried Lily quickly through the castle to the moving staircase, and up to Gryffindor tower, where he laid her gently on the couch in the common room, before dropping down and returning to sleep himself on the floor beside her - each holding onto the other's hand in the dark.