In a cave deep in the mountains, Lim Banar stood on a stone at the entrance, holding high the newspaper delivered by an owl.
The bright morning light outside projected his silhouette onto the tired, cloudy eyes watching from within the cave.
With tears in his eyes, Banar read aloud:
"–Just this morning, the Association of Extraordinary Apothecaries held an emergency meeting to discuss the formula submitted by Mr. Vaughn Weasley. Later, with the personal intervention of the Minister of Magic's Office, the Association officially confirmed the Wolfsbane Potion's effectiveness!"
"As of the newspaper's publication, the Ministry of Magic has decided to form an interdepartmental joint investigation team and invited several renowned potion masters to conduct a final review of Mr. Vaughn Weasley's 'Wolfsbane Potion.'"
"Ms. Artemisia from the Minister's Office told this reporter that the final review is largely a formality. Reaching this stage of verification means the formula is essentially proven."
"Ms. Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, said during a fireplace interview that Mr. Vaughn Weasley's contribution was extraordinary. She plans to submit a report to the Wizengamot and recommend convening the Order of Merlin Committee to discuss awarding him the Order of Merlin."
"This reporter had the honor of reading Mr. Vaughn Weasley's original paper, submitted to both the Extraordinary Apothecaries Association and the Ministry of Magic. At the end of his letter, Mr. Weasley made a heartfelt appeal: 'Dear members of the Association, esteemed Ministry officials, please select a suitable occasion. I will then announce the free public release of the Wolfsbane Potion formula, and work with both the Association and the Ministry to help those in need of this potion.'"
"'As I stated from the start, I did not develop this for Galleons, but for those wandering werewolves hidden in the mountains—victims of the werewolf virus themselves.'"
"'The crimes of Greyback and his followers should not be borne by the innocent!'"
Lim Banar's voice was hoarse and strained, but no one in the cave minded. All eyes stayed fixed on him, listening intently to every word of the article.
One by one, those dull, hopeless eyes began to brighten. Murmurs stirred, louder and louder, until finally, someone stepped forward out of the shadows.
"Banar, are you serious? Is that really true?"
Banar shook the newspaper. "The report's right here on the front page! You think the Daily Prophet would lie? What do I have to lie about?"
The man's voice held suspicion. "Then why did you call us here? Who are you working for?"
"Mr. Weasley, of course!" Banar declared, his eyes shining. "He knows we don't have money to buy potions. Didn't you hear the end of the article? Mr. Weasley wants to make the Wolfsbane Potion free—but he can't do it alone."
The werewolf hesitated. He had once been a Muggle, and an educated one before his infection. He knew something didn't quite add up.
But when he turned and saw the hopeful eyes in the darkness, he froze. After a long pause, he clenched his fists and shouted, "Then tell me—how can we help him?"
Lim Banar answered without hesitation, "Gather more werewolves. As many as we can. Let's go to Diagon Alley, go to the Ministry of Magic, and show them just how many of us there really are!"
---
The small conference room at the Daily Prophet office was thick with smoke.
Rita Skeeter, dressed in her usual flamboyant style, sat at the conference table, impatiently fanning away steam drifting from an old wizard's ears nearby.
At the head of the table, editor-in-chief Barnabas Guffey combed his thinning hair and passed out files while saying,
"Vaughn Weasley. Born March 1st, 1980. Not even twelve years old this year. Gentlemen, I—"
He noticed Rita raise a finger, plump as a carrot, to correct him. He nodded, amending himself:
"—and ladies, of course. I think we all know what that age represents—news! Buzz! Attention!"
"How did a child not even twelve manage such incredible achievements? How did he create the Wolfsbane Potion? These are questions readers want answered. There has never been such a young potion master before, and I doubt there will be again. Fortunately, some higher-ups have arranged for us to get the exclusive interview. We can't waste this opportunity—"
Rita wasn't listening anymore.
Her focus was on the document in front of her and the details the editor had let slip.
On her parchment, she scribbled down: "Twelve years old," "Potion Master," "Backed by Big Shots"—then underlined the last line heavily.
Though she appeared composed, Rita was seething with excitement.
Not over some miraculous potion discovery, of course. No, she was far more interested in the juicy tale she could spin: a "twelve-year-old potion master," backed by mysterious powers behind the scenes, involved in academic fraud and political manipulation.
A pure-blood child shoved into the spotlight by powerful forces. What lies, what compromises, what dark deals lie beneath this polished surface?
Just imagining the scandal was enough to make her tremble.
As for the truth? She didn't care. As long as it grabbed headlines, that was all that mattered.
So when Barnabas Guffey asked who would be willing to visit Hogwarts for the interview, Rita's hand shot up at once.
"Very well, Rita," the editor said. "It's yours. You'll leave this afternoon with the Ministry team."
"Ministry team?"
"Yes, the joint task force. Just a formality. I'll send your travel permit shortly."
Rita narrowed her eyes.
A hungry gleam appeared behind her glasses, like a predator who had just caught the scent of blood.
---
Ron slept until dawn. When he opened his eyes, he was startled by the dark circles under Harry's eyes and asked, "Why do you look like that again?"
Harry was clearly exhausted, but he was also visibly excited as he leaned in and whispered about his experience the previous night.
Ron's sleepy brain instantly snapped awake, and he shouted angrily, "Bloody hell! Why didn't you wake me up for something that fun?!"
"You can come tonight. I have to go back there anyway—to see my parents and my family."
Harry spoke with a slight air of pride.
He had always envied the Weasley family for having so many members. Even though Ron often complained about them with embarrassment, Harry could tell he was proud and happy for him.
Just as the two were discussing what time the famous 'show' would start tonight, the twins suddenly burst into the room.
Harry and Ron immediately thought the twins had overheard their conversation and were already bracing themselves for damage, but the twins had something else entirely on their minds. They were shouting excitedly, waving newspapers in the air:
"Ronnie, look, look! The Weasley family has a potion master!"
"A werewolf savior, Fred!"
"Right you are, George—the dawn of a new wizarding era! He's going down in history!"
"Everyone needs to know this!"
"Exactly—we ordered 100 copies of the paper!"
They tossed a copy of the newspaper at Harry and Ron, then dashed out in triumph, their voices still echoing from down the hallway:
"Potion Master of the Weasley family!"
Ron, a little annoyed, automatically calculated how much 100 copies of The Daily Prophet at 5 Knuts each would cost. Meanwhile, Harry—unbothered thanks to his vault at Gringotts—had already picked up the paper.
After skimming it, the still-new-to-magic Harry asked in confusion, "Wolfsbane Potion? Werewolves?"
Ron's eyes went wide with horror. "You don't know?! They're the scariest creatures in the magical world! If you meet a troll, worst case—it smashes your head in. But a werewolf? Even a scratch will infect you and turn you into one of them. From then on, you're doomed to hide in the woods for life!"
Ever since helping Vaughn kill a troll, Ron had started using trolls as his unit of measurement for danger.
Harry silently decided he didn't want to meet either of the two.
But thanks to Ron's lesson, Harry finally grasped the meaning of the article: "So, wolfsbane potion… it cures werewolves?"
Ron, still reading, shook his head. "It says it doesn't cure them—it just lets them stay sane when they transform.
Vaughn—he's still developing it—"
Ron's ears reddened slightly with excitement.
Seeing "Dear Mr. Weasley" appear repeatedly in the article gave him an unexpected sense of pride.
"That's amazing. For once, I think Vaughn isn't so bad. Someone should've done something about the werewolf issue ages ago. My mum's been scaring me with Greyback since I was little. For a while, I didn't even dare go to the restroom at night!"
"...—" Harry suddenly felt like he'd learned something disturbing.
Afraid to follow that train of thought any further—lest he never see Ron the same way again—he quickly said:
"I told you before that Vaughn's a good guy. Look at the last bit—he even wants to make the wolfsbane potion free, so more werewolves can get help!"
Ron nodded, and—for once—didn't say anything bad about his brother.
When they left the dormitory and arrived at the dining hall, they discovered the news had already spread like wildfire across Hogwarts—thanks to the twins.
Fred and George, who had ordered 100 copies, were handing them out for free to all the students who'd stayed behind over the break. The rest were being mailed to their other friends by owl.
Most of the remaining students had now gathered around the Slytherin table, peppering Vaughn with questions. The twins, armed with leftover fireworks from yesterday, played the role of hype-men in the crowd. Percy had one arm around Vaughn's shoulders and proudly told everyone:
"Vaughn's been great at potions since he was a kid. And I, as his older brother, saw the signs early on. Did I hesitate to lend him my textbooks? Never. I've always supported his experiments. You'll never guess whose cauldron he used for his first potion!"
Percy added a mysterious pause, puffing out his chest while the "P" badge gleamed brightly.
Ron, standing with Harry outside the crowd, pouted and muttered, "Don't listen to Percy's nonsense. Vaughn did use his cauldron once, and he was so mad he nearly blasted a hole in the floor."
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