"Following a vote by the Wizengamot, the Anti-Werewolf Legislation has been completely repealed and archived. The Werewolf Registry within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has been disbanded, with Madam Bones announcing it will never be reinstated. Wizards suffering from Lycanthropy are finally seeing a long-awaited peace..."
"Werewolf sufferers are no longer required to register their identity at the Ministry of Magic, nor report when moving or seeking employment. A small number of pure-blood wizards who wished to remain anonymous expressed opposition, as privacy regarding Lycanthropy status has drawn close attention from the wizarding community..."
"Wealthy pure-blood Lucius Malfoy and Healer Herbert Spring jointly attended the Quidditch World Cup preparation ceremony. After the gala, they announced a donation to St. Mungo's of no less than seventy thousand Galleons this year, the vast majority of which will subsidize Wolfsbane Potion..."
"Deputy Head Healer Spring stated that while Lycanthropy remains an incurable magical contagion, it is not as dangerous as imagined, and wizards should view it rationally..."
"Notorious werewolf criminal Fenrir Greyback has surfaced. Recent reports state that adventurous wizards spotted a werewolf pack in the mountains near Ullapool, Scotland, migrating toward towns..."
"Following the enactment of the Anti-Werewolf Legislation, many werewolves fled into the wilderness. Greyback seized the opportunity to expand his forces and has now returned to the wizarding world following the repeal. The Daily Prophet will continue to report on the potential impact."
Holding the newspaper, Lupin sat alone in a corner of the round table, staring blankly at the page, his thoughts drifting far away.
"Greyback..."
Sirius caught a glimpse of the familiar name in the headline. He hesitated for a moment, then lightened his steps to walk up behind his friend. Suddenly, he reached out and patted Lupin's shoulder. Lupin jolted, snapping back to reality.
With a werewolf's keen senses, he should have noticed someone approaching from behind. His guard was down completely—hardly the professional alertness expected of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His attention was clearly elsewhere.
"I say... you're not thinking about resigning your professorship, giving up this stable and happy life to go roaming with Greyback, are you?" Sirius stood behind him, scanning the report.
"A stable and happy life doesn't fall from the sky. The situation for werewolves has finally improved, and someone needs to maintain order. Right now, I see a beast approaching aggressively, highly likely to destroy that order."
Lupin smoothed out the newspaper and looked up, a gentle but firm smile on his face. "Do I need to hide in my office and pretend not to see? Sirius, you know that's not my choice."
"After twelve years in Azkaban and this time in the holding cell, I've figured out a lot of things. One of them is not to do things self-righteously, and not to think I'm the smartest person in the world."
Sirius paused. That sounded profound—hardly like something he would say.
He pressed his hand on his old friend's shoulder, speaking earnestly like a nagging old witch. "You aren't an Auror for the Ministry, nor are you running for Minister. Perhaps if you stay at Hogwarts and teach well, you can help more students avoid harm from Lycanthropy."
Lupin shook his head. "Many wizards are qualified for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but to infiltrate a werewolf pack and get close to Greyback for intelligence... perhaps only the werewolf Remus Lupin can do that."
Sirius couldn't refute him and didn't know what to say.
"Sirius, Remus, come help me aim this Gobstone! I'm about to lose to Ron!"
Harry's voice sounded from behind. Seeing their strange expressions, he craned his neck to look at the newspaper. "Did something happen? Are you worried about Peter escaping? He wouldn't dare come back to Hogwarts, right? Who is this? Greyback... that werewolf criminal!"
"Yeah, he's the one who bit Remus," Sirius replied.
"They should catch him immediately! How is a criminal like that still at large?"
"Remus is preparing to..."
Before Sirius could finish, Lupin interrupted with a gentle smile. "Witnesses have spotted him in Scotland. Reporters and Aurors are already investigating his whereabouts. I believe he will be caught soon."
Sirius paused, realizing Remus wanted to keep it from Harry, and curled his lip.
"Someone like that should be thrown into Azkaban, tortured by Dementors every day, and guarded by specialists on full moons to prevent him from breaking out like Sirius," Harry said indignantly.
"You're right. Someone like that should be locked up. Someone has to deal with him!"
Lupin folded the newspaper and stood up, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I have work to report to Dumbledore. I'll be going now."
Harry watched Lupin walk away, thinking the man was odd. His conversation had no beginning or end; one sentence he was talking about a werewolf criminal, the next he was off to report work.
But thinking about it, which Defense Against the Dark Arts professor wasn't strange?
Professor Lupin was actually one of the normal ones.
Harry snapped out of it and turned to pull Sirius into the game against Ron, only to find him also standing there in a daze. Shaking his head, Harry faced Ron alone, only to get sprayed with foul-smelling liquid by a deluxe Gobstone.
"Sirius and Remus are unreliable..."
Harry cast a Scourgify on himself but still felt gross, deciding to go to the bathroom for a proper wash.
He walked out of the side hall, nose crinkled, muttering, "If only I had learned Professor Levent's Bubble-Head Charm."
"Do you want to learn? I can teach you in remedial class!" someone said in the entrance hall.
Harry froze, looking up to see the figure approaching.
Dressed in Muggle clothes, Melvin walked up, sniffed, cast a Bubble-Head Charm on Harry, and then quietly took a few steps back.
"What did you get on yourself? A new Dungbomb improved by Fred and George?"
Harry stood at the door of the Great Hall's side chamber. A shimmering light seemed to flash before his eyes, and the pungent smell of the Gobstone fluid suddenly became intense. He instinctively tried to take a breath of fresh air, but all he got was the stench.
Choking, he nearly fainted.
The smell on his clothes had been dissipating outward, but now it felt like it was trapped by a bubble, unable to escape, while fresh air couldn't get in.
The Bubble-Head Charm usually filtered air, but this bubble was clearly reversed—its function was to contain the smell.
"Professor, did you cast the Bubble-Head Charm wrong?" Harry looked desperate.
"Better for you to suffer alone than to pollute the entire Great Hall. Hogwarts rules clearly state that playing Gobstones is forbidden in public areas like the Great Hall, classrooms, or corridors. When I was in my sixth year, a few people played Gobstones with dud Dungbombs, and they exploded... The Headmaster made a new rule after that."
Sirius stepped out of the side hall. His beard was trimmed, the stubble on his chin and cheeks clean and neat. Combined with his new robes, he looked revitalized, shedding the wretchedness of a vagrant. There was no trace of the prisoner left.
"Professor Levent, we meet again!"
Sirius nodded slightly in respect. "Since leaving Hogwarts on Boxing Day, I've been thinking about how to properly thank you for your help, but I still haven't found a satisfactory answer!"
"I never nitpick gifts from others."
Melvin smiled, the image of an exquisite, ancient locket—one he had seen in the memories provided by Borgin—floating in his mind.
"Mr. Levent..."
Sirius paused briefly, then spoke sincerely, "I wish to express my gratitude with something precious enough, but I am just a recently released prisoner. I hadn't accumulated much wealth before. I inherited some from the Black family home and Gringotts vault, but those things just don't feel appropriate..."
He was no longer an isolated prisoner. During his time wandering Hogsmeade and listening to Aurors chat in the Ministry holding cell, he had learned of this professor's achievements.
This young professor lacked for nothing.
Founder of the Mirror Club, revolutionizing Muggle Studies—wealth was just a trivial byproduct of his process.
Sirius bowed slightly, his expression solemn. "If it conveys my gratitude, I am willing to give everything, even my life!"
"What would I do with your life?"
Melvin glanced at him, his gaze sharp and decisive, like a hunter who had long spotted his prey but feared startling it, forced to be tactful.
He mused for a moment. "The pure-blood families of Britain have a long history. I'm very interested in the ancient magical artifacts passed down through generations. Few families are older than the Blacks, so you must have many treasures. If possible, I'd like to pick one or two... even purchase them at market price."
"Those things are just gathering dust in the old house. If you want, you can empty the whole place."
Sirius made the promise easily, without a hint of hesitation.
Their brief conversation wasn't private. Harry, suffocating in his Bubble-Head Charm and delirious from the stench, heard it. Ron, who had come over, looked at Sirius with a strange expression.
As a member of a pure-blood family, even though the Weasleys had fallen on hard times, Ron knew exactly how staggering the accumulated wealth of such a family could be. This wrongly accused prisoner had suffered hunger and cold for twelve years, yet he had no attachment to this fortune.
"Emptying it is a bit much. Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait is still in the Headmaster's office. I worry that if we meet later, he'll curse me out in Victorian slang." Melvin was in a good mood.
Tom's soul fragment, Slytherin's locket—it was about to be unlocked.
Sirius scratched his head, a bit confused.
Even counting just his business in Britain, this professor's accumulated wealth far exceeded that of the Black family. And because of the Mirror Club, many pure-blood wizards were eager to befriend Melvin. If word got out, there would be an endless line of people offering antiques.
Why be happy about a few old items from the Black family?
Unable to find an answer, he concluded that Melvin simply didn't want to hold the favor over his head or make him feel too indebted, so he casually asked for a few antiques to brush the matter aside lightly.
Sirius lowered his eyes slightly, hiding the guilt within.
Before this, he had even thought of investigating Melvin—wondering why he knew the truth about that night in Godric's Hollow, why he was Peter's deepest fear, why he knew the secrets of the Marauders...
"Professor Levent, resolving the misunderstanding with Remus and reuniting with Harry was all thanks to your help. I understand you don't want me to feel indebted, but a wizard's life debt must be repaid, or my soul will never find peace."
Sirius looked solemn. "The Black family home has been sealed for so many years; things are in a mess. Give me some time. I'll go home and tidy up the estate, and prepare an inventory. I will definitely pick out the most precious treasures for you! Rest assured, I won't let you lose out."
"Can't I just pick freely myself?" Melvin had a bit of a headache.
"Of course you can pick freely, but it's more convenient with an inventory for reference!"
Sirius had the air of a spendthrift heir. "I formally invite you to be a guest at the Black house. Let's set the time for the Easter holidays... actually, I have to take Harry to visit James and Lily during Easter, so let's change it to the summer holidays. It's a deal!"
"..."
Melvin was silent for a moment, then nodded helplessly.
---
Headmaster's Office.
Bright yellow candlelight illuminated the room. The desk was piled with messy papers, silver instruments placed haphazardly. In the center sat a box of snacks—sweets from Honeydukes.
Dressed in greyish-white robes, Dumbledore stood before a shelf, pockets full of brightly colored bows, sticking them onto the shelf one by one.
Lupin sat at the desk, assuming it was just the Headmaster's whimsy.
"Do you really have to resign?"
Dumbledore focused on decorating the room, asking without turning his head. "There are less than four months left in the school year. It will end soon. I trust your teaching ability, Remus. Just wait until the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. results reach the parents. Even if news leaks, I can use my reputation as Headmaster and your teaching results as a guarantee to make the Board of Governors overlook your... furry little problem."
"..."
"Remus, the stable life you've always sought is right in front of you. What belief makes you willing to give up this job?"
"That pursuit was more like cowardice."
Lupin spoke calmly. "Back in school, I wanted friends to be with me every full moon, so I hid my transformations and night wanderings from you. After learning of Sirius's escape, I chose to keep hiding it. I could find many excuses—worrying about disappointing you, fear of losing this job, holding onto irrational hope for Sirius... but it was these excuses that nearly buried the truth forever."
Dumbledore paused. "That wasn't your fault, Remus."
"Actually, I always knew the right choice, but I never had the courage to make it. Now, it's time for a change."
"It looks like I'll have to find a new professor," Dumbledore sighed.
"I'll stay until June and leave after the exams." Lupin stood up and bowed slightly.
Watching his back as he left the office, Dumbledore took a black stone from his pocket. It was etched with simple geometric shapes. He turned it three times, and suddenly mist appeared out of thin air. Within the faint fog, the figure of a little girl ran.
"Yes, Ariana. His health isn't great, but he is very brave."
"..."
"Yes, I know. You are very brave too."
"..."
"Let me go find Aberforth? I'll have to think about that."
The old man chatted softly with the girl, arranging new bows and ornaments, personally decorating the office in a new style.