Chapter 302 - The Four (1/2)
The Daily Prophet for once had done its job and ensured that the entire wizarding world was aware of the glorious miracle that had taken place thanks to Master Belby. The topic was on everyone's lips by late afternoon as more information was printed on the evening paper regarding on how to register with the Ministry of Magic to receive the cure.
It was early evening when a large group of exhausted-looking men and women gathered. They bore the tattle tell signs of the terrible night they had before and still had before for the next two days. The full moon this time would thankfully only be for three days rather than four. It was always exhausting for these men and women when there four days of back to back transformations to deal with.
They all had gathered early in the evening to have plenty of time to make their way to their dungeons, locked rooms, or other secure areas, which they used to transform safely and not harm another. Having been afflicted, most werewolves did their best not to create any more of their kind with the exception of those few like Greyback.
Among them are plenty of figures of mere youths and children with their parents. In these cases, those afflicted were not the parents but rather their children. And the parents oftentimes desperate for aide would seek out other older werewolves asking for advice on how to care for their children.
A rare older werewolf with grizzled silver hair and bright eyes clears his throat. (Not many werewolves lived to see old age, either because of the curse or finally losing themselves to the madness of the wolf.) In a raspy voice, he says, ”It's good to see you all this evening. I do believe that you are all aware, why we have dared to gather on the evening of a full moon.”
The other werewolves grunt in reply as they all uneasily gaze at each other. Their normally colored eyes all have an animal like tint to them that normally wasn't present except during this time of the month. It was when the wolf was closest to the surface.
A werewolf with close-cropped hair sneers flashing yellow canine-like teeth. ”Surely, you don't believe the load of garbage that the Daily Prophet published, Heskel? It's just another trick of the Ministry of Magic trying to get at us!” The werewolf spat as voices chimed in agreement.
”I am well aware of your opinions, Leeroy,” said, the grizzled silver-haired werewolf named Heskel.
Leeroy bared his yellow canine teeth at Heskel, but Heskel bared his teeth back with a low growl. Sensing that the old werewolf was still stronger than him despite his age, Leeroy takes a step back and cocks his head to his side showing his neck in submission.
The wolfish glint in Heskel's eyes slowly fades away as he shakes his head as if to clear his head. ”Now then, I know that many of you are afraid, but I believe that this morning's announcement may very well be true. I've heard from several werewolves that Master Belby had been working on a cure ever since he attended Hogwarts. I do not believe that a potion master of Master Belby's caliber would willingly participate in such a farce.”
The werewolves' glance at each other as youths and children glance up at their parents. Their parents grasp on their children tighten as their eyes begin to fill with desperate hope. For they were so very desperate to believe that their finally might be a cure for their loved ones.
Before the werewolves can speak more on the subject, a knock is heard at the door. Heskel lifts his head and sniffs the air. Finding the scents rather familiar, he walks to the door and cautiously removes the door bar. The group behind him stiffens anxiously waiting to see who it was. It was a common Ministry of Magic practice to attempt to infiltrate their meetings and corral them like the vicious animals, the public believed they were.
Heskel with ease despite his old age removes the heavy wooden door bar and allows for four individuals to enter. The entire broom holds their breath as they see for men enter. The first is a man with piercing eyes and is rather burly. The second is a tired-looking man with a friendly smile on his face. The third is a rather ordinary-looking man with a gentle demeanor about him. And the last is a fierce-looking young man with reddish-golden hair.
One of the children loudly exclaims, ”Mummy, it's the four werewolves from the newspaper! It's Twizzle, Banks, Smythe, and Glackin.”
The mother hushes her child and wraps her arms around her child as if wary by the appearance of these four men. Could they be in cahoots with the Ministry of Magic? It wasn't that uncommon. Werewolves had betrayed others of their own kind to save their own hide.
There is a moment of tense silence until the fiery, Glackin points at Leeroy. ”Heh, nothing to say now, eh, you loud-mouthed dog?” Leeroy snarls in reply but remained silent.
Smythe seeing Glackin ready to try to rile up Leeroy again places his arm on Glackin's shoulder in warning. Glackin rolls his eyes and shrugs the gentle men's reminder. ”I'm just teasing, Smythe,” Glackin whined.
Twizzle turns his piercing eyes towards his Glackin and flexes his burly arms in warning at Glackin. Knowing than to puss, Twizzle's buttons, Glackin ducks his head down and remained quiet. Twizzle tended to use muggle, brute force rather than magic. It must come from being muggleborn.
Banks, the tired-looking man with a kind expression says, ”We've come to prove the truth of this morning's claims.”
”It's true?” Whispered, a parent with vibrant hope in their eyes.
”Aye, it's all thanks to Master Belby,” Banks reverently replied.