Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world

Chapter 150 The Search and Battle for the Lost

WAC requires all werewolves to live in the sunlight. The "New Registration Law" is the werewolf's "registration" and "social security guarantee." All wizards can sense this contract, which is also the unique identifier of a registered werewolf.

It has a very powerful function: if a werewolf harms someone, the contract will be triggered immediately and the WAC will know about it. Correspondingly, any wizard who kills a registered werewolf will also be marked by the contract.

Although the WAC leadership has not yet been elected and no measures have been introduced to deal with marked wizards, given that WAC seats include members of Wizengamo and the International Confederation of Wizards.

With the endorsement of these two organizations, it is enough to deter others.

This also meant that werewolves who had not signed the "new registration law," namely Greyback and his followers, had virtually no place to hide in the wizarding world.

The reason is simple: on the one hand, the lack of a "new registration law" label means that you are not regulated and belong to the outliers.

On the other hand, there is an unknown person who is offering a bounty on the black market throughout the British Isles to capture unregistered werewolves!
Dark wizards have no scruples when faced with Galleons.

Now, the activities of unregistered werewolves like Greyback have been pushed to their limits due to the WAC, and they almost dare not move around in the magical community anymore.

Remote, uninhabited wilderness is out of the question; there are no such conditions near Greater London.

In theory, areas inhabited by Muggles are not suitable for werewolves with dark wizard identities to infiltrate. The Ministry of Magic has a magical event monitoring system (the Magical Congress also has a similar technology called the Magic Exposure Level Clock, but they monitor the risk of magical exposure). The principle is similar to the Thread of the Thread, which detects magical fluctuations that erupt within a certain range through a pre-arranged ritual.

London, as the capital of England, has always been a region closely monitored by the Ministry of Magic.

Unfortunately, this system is controlled by the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters, which is Fudge's "headquarters".

Fortunately, the green-eyed wizard's family has some influence in this department.

He answered Lupin's question: "Through our magical event monitoring system, we detected suspicious magical events in several areas over the past two days. Combined with intelligence, we can basically determine their hiding place..."

As he spoke, he waved his wand.

As he softly chanted the incantation, the surrounding mist responded to his magic, some of it gathering together and condensing into a map in front of him.

Amidst the countless lines, several areas of this map representing the city of London glow faintly.

Mundungus whistled and exclaimed, "No wonder the great Mr. Weasley cast such a wide-ranging mist spell. It was for our convenience. He must have been working so hard, having to manage the meeting while also supporting his incompetent subordinates."

Although this sounds like flattery.

But no matter how Phil and Green Eyes listened, they felt like the other was mocking them.

Lupin was also helpless against Mundungus's sarcastic remarks. He smiled awkwardly at Phil and the other man, took the broom, and changed the subject: "Which area are we in charge of?"

Green Eyes glanced at Old Monton and pointed to the northwest corner of the map: "Watford Town, a Muggle transportation hub. The five groups of werewolves this time are basically staying in similar places. They all have the common characteristics of a complex population and convenient transportation. Of course, the group we are in charge of is a bit more special."

Looking at the flashing dots on the map, Lupin's mind raced: "Because they're farther from London than the other teams?"

"Yes, it's a risk aversion mentality. We believe that Fenrir Graybuck is very likely in this team."

"You have no way to track his whereabouts?"

Green Eyes shrugged helplessly: "No one can be sure of his whereabouts. Since the fall of the mysterious man, the Aurors have been hunting him for 11 years, but they still can't find a trace of him."

Lupin said thoughtfully, "In other words, we're not sure if he'll participate in this operation."

"Yes...of course, it would be best if he participated!"

Upon hearing this, Mundungus, who was usually sarcastic, surprisingly agreed, saying, "Yes, it would be best to capture that guy. There is no werewolf in Britain older than him. I heard that he has also modified himself. He is of great research value. If we can capture him alive, Mr. Weasley will be very happy."

The other three remained expressionless, seemingly oblivious to the implications of his words.

"Were there only four of us in this arrest operation?"

“Other teams will have other people in charge, including some Aurors who are on vacation and will go directly to join us. They will help us voluntarily.”

Would Rufus Scrimgeour agree?

“The esteemed Director of the Auror Office would certainly not agree, but these Aurors were invited by Kingsley Shackler to rehearse for Harry Potter’s birthday celebration in two days. They happened to be passing by today and discovered dark wizards attacking the public… so their act of bravery does not violate the Auror Code!”

"..." Lupin gave a wry smile, "You've already come up with all the excuses..."

Phil shrugged: "How can you call it an excuse? It's the truth, how heartwarming! We're even planning to send a thank-you letter to the Ministry of Magic after this is all over!"

"what!"

Even Mundungus couldn't help but laugh out loud, suddenly feeling a bit excited about what Fudge's expression would be.

In response to Greyback, the werewolves mobilized almost all of their wizarding forces, dividing themselves into five teams. With the help of some "righteous" Aurors, they launched a campaign to capture the five Greyback squads.

The reason why we need the cooperation of Aurors is because we lack sufficient strength!

The absence of a full moon, while weakening the threat posed by Graybury and others, also diminished the fighting power of the registered werewolves.

In a full moon scenario, 20 Greyback's henchmen would be no match for WAC!
Wizards fear the minions of werewolves, but the werewolves of WAC are not.

However, neither Dumbledore, Wizengamo, nor the International Confederation of Wizards had ever considered holding their first general assembly during a full moon...

Aside from Vaughn, who had great confidence in the wolfsbane potion, there were probably very few wizards who would dare to face a room full of transformed werewolves during a full moon!

Not to mention the need to hold elections.

The scene was too surreal for the wizards to bear.

The thick fog of the Mist Curse is not, as Mundungus maliciously belittled it, a tool summoned by Vaughn to pull his "useless minions" along.

Its main function is to cover up the activities of WAC wizards and Aurors, so as not to affect Muggles or cause magical leaks.

On the other hand, it also deceives the enemy.

Walkerford, this beautiful Muggle town, was now shrouded in thick fog. When Matthew, wrapped in a faded white coat, walked out of the Muggle convenience store, he could see almost nothing in his field of vision.

Matthew is a werewolf.

But long ago, he was a normal wizard, born in Gryffindor, who graduated from Hogwarts full of ambition, confident that he would make a name for himself and change the world.

Reality struck him hard in his second week after he left campus for his graduation trip (a Hogwarts tradition).

In the forests of Ireland, he found a tribe of goblins. While observing these kind yet mischievous creatures, he was attacked by a werewolf.

That day was a full moon.

So it's no surprise that he contracted wolf syndrome!

The man who attacked him was named Fenrir Graybuck.

Matthew would never forget the despair he felt when, covered in wounds and in excruciating pain, amidst the horrified screams of the goblins, he was dragged into a cave by Greyback, who had vented his bloodlust.

All wizards who have received a proper education understand the horror of wolfification.

Getting infected with it is basically equivalent to ruining your life.

His ideals, ambitions, and grand aspirations when he left school collapsed completely on that full moon night, and he tried to resist in the first few days.

But he was no match for the powerful magic of Greyback; before that demon, he was as weak as a child.

He had also considered suicide, but...

Regardless of the reason, he ultimately couldn't make up his mind.

Perhaps there was still a sliver of hope and fantasy in their hearts, a wishful thinking that maybe they hadn't been infected?

She fantasized that even if she got infected, she could still continue to be a wizard.

But these thoughts were completely shattered on his first full moon night, a month after his infection...

So much time has passed that Matthew has almost forgotten what his first full moon felt like; all that remains in his memory is pain.

The pain penetrated deep into his brain and bone marrow; the intense pain overwhelmed his consciousness.

When he regained consciousness, he had left the cave where he had stayed for a month and appeared in a Muggle village in Ireland, in a familiar house, with two mangled corpses in front of him.

Fenrir Greyback, that devil, laughed maniacally beside him.

“Matthew, my brother, my child, you have completed your transformation. Behold, you have severed and destroyed the useless emotions of being human and worldly with your own hands. From this day forward, you will join a greater race…”

Even after decades, the delirious babbling of that demon's maniacal laughter remains vividly imprinted in Matthew's mind.

It destroyed his will.

The moment those two corpses came into view, his whole world collapsed—he had killed his own parents with his own hands!
All his hopes and illusions vanished the moment he saw his parents' bodies.

Along with his reason!

Matthew couldn't remember how he escaped, nor did he understand why Graybury let him leave. At the time, he was just desperately trying to escape Ireland in a daze.

During those years of wandering, he thought about suicide countless times, but the desire for revenge pulled him back. He wanted to go to the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts.

But just as he learned at Hogwarts, he deeply understood how difficult it was to survive in the world after becoming a werewolf.

No one believed him, let alone a werewolf. The Ministry of Magic plastered his wanted poster all over every wizarding town, let alone the Ministry of Magic or Hogwarts.

He couldn't even find a wizard willing to listen to a single word he said!
Months later, when he lay dying and covered in wounds on the banks of the Thames, only Graybuck appeared before him again.

The demon, revealing sharp teeth, smiled and wiped away his tears with his claws.

"Hate me, my child! Take revenge on me, on all those who distrusted you, all those who hurt you! Kill them all, devour them—"

Hatred, it was twisted like that!
A cool breeze, carrying mist, swept over Matthew, jolting him awake. He stared blankly at the night sky shrouded in thick fog.

Consciousness broke free from the distorted, almost yellowed memories.

The doorbell of the convenience store behind them rang once, and two Muggles came out, shivering in the cool breeze, and complained, "What a thick fog! We can't see anything."

"Isn't fog in London normal? Let's go back and watch the game together?"

With that, the two hurriedly left, and the topic of fog was thus glossed over.

As he watched the two Muggles disappear into the distance, Matthew frowned. He suddenly realized something was wrong; foggy weather was unusual in London's summer.

He was born a Muggle and understood Muggle thinking better. It was surprising that the Muggles didn't even have the interest to talk about this unusual situation.

What's more...

Matthew tried to clear his mind and expand his senses as much as possible.

Then he suddenly opened his eyes: "Magic!"

A kind of intuitive warning frantically reminded him that it was a spiritual warning, originating from both the fog and the wizard who created it!

A powerful wizard who instilled fear in his very spirit.

Matthew took off running towards the Muggle community where the squad was hiding.

In fact, he had no idea why he had come to London; he had only come because Graybuck had told them to.

For many years, the pattern has remained the same: he wanders the world like a walking corpse, following the object of his past revenge.

They sank deeper and deeper into the quagmire from which they could not escape.

What seemed to sustain him was only one thought: to survive!
Just like now!

"Such a vast fog, is it a Mist Curse? Such a basic spell, perhaps covering the entire city? Damn it, who has Greyback messed with?!"

He cursed under his breath, forgetting all about the sandwiches and fried fish he had just bought.

He needed to warn his teammates hiding in their hideout, to warn them...

"boom--"

As he crossed the street and was about to rush into the residential area, the thick fog suddenly rolled in, and the flames and roars completely interrupted his chaotic thoughts.

He instinctively stopped in his tracks, looking into the deep fog, where the firelight suddenly illuminated a magical glow, accompanied by screams and curses.

"Damn it, you traitors!"

How did they find us?!

"And Aurors—"

"what--"

Red and green lights rose and fell in the swirling mist, and then a spell exploded near Matthew, the immense force sending him flying.

As he scrambled to his feet and instinctively drew his wand, he heard a faint, seemingly aged voice say, "There's one more who slipped through the net, except for your weapon—"

Disarming spell!
Matthew swung his wand almost the instant the red light appeared.

A hazy, milky-white halo flickered in the air before the tip of the wand. The next instant, a crimson light swept in. Catching the rapidly approaching crimson aura out of the corner of his eye, Matthew reacted with lightning speed, slashing his wand at it. Bang!
Ripples spread through the air.

In that critical moment, the adrenaline released in his body gave Matthew an incredibly fast thought process. Time seemed to slow down, his pupils dilated, and even the light seemed distorted in his eyes.

He saw endless light spreading and bursting in his field of vision.

Everything became slow and clear, vivid and bright.

In particular, the red light that came at him, representing the "disarming spell," collided with the armor spell he had hastily laid out, shattering into highly saturated color spots.

Ripples appeared.

The crimson spots resembled stone fragments that had flown across the lake and were dragged up by the surface tension of the water, before being flung away by the Ironclad Spell!

But in an instant, another red light struck.

The surge of hormones not only accelerated Matthew's thinking but also made him focused and calm. As he watched the disarming spell slowly approaching, his body moved with lightning speed, waving and flicking.

When wizards clash, the initial engagement is usually rapid and intense.

Just like now.

Even after entering battle mode, due to hormones and accelerated thinking, time seemed to pass very slowly to the two wizards.

But from an observer's perspective, the two of them were moving so fast it was almost insane. One cast a disarming spell, and the other cast an armor spell to block the counterattack.

Only the sudden burst of firecracker-like explosions and rising dust beside them hinted at the danger lurking within.

Bang bang bang!

After more than ten streaks of red light scattered, a loud boom followed, and the sound of buildings collapsing came from within the thick fog, as if the scattered incantations had struck somewhere in the unknown.

The attacker's rhythm was thus halted for a moment.

Matthew immediately seized the opportunity, flicking his wand swiftly towards the figure that had been constantly bothering him, hidden in the thick fog, whose outline he could only see:

"Collapse!"

Red light bursts forth (the Stunning Curse also emits red light).

However, his opponent was also an experienced warrior. Matthew saw his spell being sent flying far away the next instant as his opponent flicked his wand.

Matthew did not continue to retaliate. Instead, he took the opportunity to bring his wand back to his front and circle it a few times, casting a thick armor spell on himself.

There are no absolutely correct tactics in the magical world, but no matter what tactics you use, the core idea is that wizards must prioritize their own survival—if you outlive your enemy, you will win!
As a Hogwarts graduate, Matthew never forgot the education he received, which was the foundation for his ability to survive for decades in the underworld teeming with dark wizards and alongside Greyback.

After casting a thick armor spell on himself, Matthew turned his wand back and pointed it at the attacker.

The attackers stopped attacking, and the thick white fog swirled as the two men faced off in silence.

However, the sounds of battle continued not far away.

Curses, roars, and screams, mixed with the howling of incantations and light, resembled a hellish drama without visible images.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Matthew's forehead.

Amidst the roars and screams, he heard several familiar voices—those of his team members.

How many enemy troops have arrived?
How do we know where they are hiding?
What kind of enemy are we facing?
As thoughts and doubts surged, at the edge of Matthew's vision, amidst the countless halos scattered by the churning fog, a ghastly green light streaked across the sky.

That is an unforgivable curse.

But to Matthew's horror, the Unforgivable Curse flashed, but he didn't hear any unfamiliar screams.

Aside from being werewolves, his team members were mostly dark wizards who had spent years navigating the edge of life and death. Regardless of their magical prowess, their dark magic was at least extremely advanced.

As if guessing what he was thinking, the person on the other side, hidden behind the thick fog, with a tired and weathered voice, finally spoke: "Isn't it strange that you seem to only ever hear the voices of people you know?"

Matthew didn't speak; fear kept him from getting distracted.

But the next second, what the other person said made his hair stand on end: "You are Matthew, right? One day 20 years ago, you suddenly appeared next to Fenrir Greyback, just like all the other werewolves who followed Greyback, without a surname, without a background, only a name!"

Damn!

Matthew's expression changed drastically as he finally realized something was wrong. He suddenly cast a spell and then quickly retreated, not caring whether it worked or not.

At the same time, the Apparition spell was cast, and space distorted around Matthew.

But the next instant, Matthew's expression froze—

Apparition has failed!
The distortion of space lasted only a moment before vanishing like a bubble, leaving him still standing in the same spot...

No, he seems to have changed positions!
Because the person who attacked him had somehow appeared in front of him and smiled at him:

“I know your name, but you probably don’t know me yet. My name is Remus Lupin, and I’m also a werewolf. In a sense, I’m the same as you. Our fates have both been dragged into the abyss because of that beast, Greyback!”

when……

Matthew's eyes widened, and he raised his wand.

A faint green light shone from the tip of his staff, and to Matthew's surprise, the werewolf named Lupin in front of him neither dodged nor avoided him.

He was even talking at length:

"Apparition failed, right? Actually, if you think about it carefully, it makes perfect sense. If you could apparite, why didn't your companions run away from that spot?"

"Of course, there's no need to think about whether we set up an 'Anti-Apparition Charm.' I can tell you no, and I can even tell you why—you just thought you were apparating, but in reality, from what I saw, you were just standing there dumbfounded!"

Cold sweat instantly soaked Matthew's back.

He finally realized something was wrong. His dilated pupils stared intently ahead, not at Lupin, but at the thick fog that filled the sky and the earth!
Mist Curse!
The moment he came to his senses, the surrounding fog surged, and one, two, three... countless Remus Lupins emerged from it.

Surround him completely!

"It seems you understand. Of all of you, you were the least affected by the Mist Curse. If I'm not mistaken, you should have received a formal education and graduated from Hogwarts?"

Matthew didn't answer, but stared nervously and bewildered at the countless "Lupins" before him: "Are you my hallucination? When?"

“From the moment you walked out of the convenience store, Matthew.”

Tonight, answers to many of his questions began to race through Matthew's mind.

He suddenly remembered that not long ago, he had been standing in a daze in front of a Muggle convenience store.

Perhaps he had already been infected by then!

That's why he suddenly recalled things from long ago, why he suddenly lost focus, and even his thoughts and beliefs were affected at that moment.

That's why he "discovered" there was something wrong with the fog, but then, contrary to his usual behavior, he wanted to notify his "teammates"—given his normal personality, he didn't have that kind of team spirit. What he should have done was abandon his teammates to draw fire and then run away!

The world before my eyes began to distort.

Matthew could no longer care about the countless "Lupins" in his head. He clutched his head and roared in suppressed anger, "Damn it... get out of my head!"

But illusions show no mercy.

The aftershocks of the battle that had been raging not far away suddenly ceased, and the thick fog, as dark as night, turned into a deep black, spreading out and engulfing him.

Matthew watched as countless "Lupin" faces transformed into... Fenrir Greyback!

Tall, imposing, and evil!
That face, which he both hated and feared, wore a rough laugh and said to him, "Why do you want me to get out of your head? Matthew, why won't you accept me? Why are you suppressing yourself?"

“You’ve been running away for too long, child. The despair and pain of being abandoned by the world have overwhelmed your thoughts and memories. You’ve become afraid of me, and this fear has twisted into a morbid dependence… because only when I live can your life have the motivation to continue!”

More memories are resurfacing.

Matthew felt an unbearable headache. He didn't know when, but the black fog had completely swallowed him. He curled up on the ground and hugged his head tightly.

It seems to be trying to prevent its forgotten memories from waking up.

But all in vain.

In reality, Lupin raised his wand high, his eyes glowing with a faint silver-blue light—that was Legilimency.

He was standing in front of a Muggle convenience store. The store's cool-toned light shone through the doors and windows, illuminating Matthew, who was curled up on the ground in front of the store, wrapped in a faded white coat.

The previous battle did not actually occur.

The fog spell that Vaughn cast, which covered most of London, was not, as Mundungus claimed, merely to "help an incompetent subordinate."

It can both confuse the senses of Muggles within its range, keeping them away from dangerous outdoor areas, and serve as a vehicle for illusions.

Of course, the very nature of the Mist Spell dictates that, as a vessel, it cannot bear too powerful magical effects; it can only create some simple illusions.

For example, stimulating, recalling, amplifying, and reinforcing memories that people least want to face.

Of course, without external interference, it would be difficult for wizards in the mist to be fooled by such a simple illusion for long.

This is also the reason why each arrest team exists.

Fighting Graybury's henchmen is the worst option. Once a battle breaks out, it will be difficult for either side to control the intensity of the fighting, let alone prevent the Muggles from being affected.

Compared to a direct firefight, having the capture team use the Fog Spell to conduct memory-based operations is undoubtedly a safer approach.

The fog grew thicker, and the streets of London became extremely deserted. The bewildered Muggles all returned indoors, indifferent to everything outside.

The same was true of the convenience store in front of Lupin; the clerk ignored Lupin and Matthew, who were just a door away, and focused intently on the empty television.

But in his mind, he was watching a football match, and this confused memory would become blurry and insignificant tomorrow, just like every boring night in the past.

After some time, I heard footsteps behind me.

Lupin released Legilimency. After Lupin's prolonged memory reading and the bewitching effect of the Mist Charm, Matthew's consciousness was severely impacted, and he fainted the instant Lupin dispelled the spell.

"Oh dear, Remus, you didn't kill him, did you?"

The voice was smooth and oily; it was Mundungus.

Lupin ignored him, turned around, and saw Mundungus carrying a bag, and Phil Travers following behind him with a stern face.

"Have you resolved it on your end?"

“Of course, old Mundung never fails.” Mundungus chuckled. “Most importantly, it’s Mr. Weasley’s magic that’s amazing. Even though those Aurors, and this Travers kid next to me, have terrible memory magic, they still managed to control a group of vicious dark wizards. It’s a miracle!”

"..."

Phil Travers curled his lip in disgust. He didn't know why, but this short, fat old man next to him always seemed to be targeting him.

Lupin also found it strange, but now was not the time to concern himself with other matters.

"Did you find anything over there?"

“No.” Phil shook his head. “The Aurors and I read the memories of several people. Greyback isn’t here. What about you?”

“Nothing of value here.” Lupin sighed, glancing at Matthew lying unconscious at his feet, and remarked with a touch of melancholy, “He’s a pitiful man too…”

Before he could finish speaking, Mundungus interrupted, "Let me guess, was he deliberately bitten by Greyback, then lost control and killed his family on the first full moon night, and finally became Greyback's subordinate because his werewolf identity was not understood or accepted?"

Lupin was taken aback.

Mundungus shrugged: "Come on, Remus, isn't this kind of story very common? Not everyone is as lucky as you. Your father was a powerful wizard and a former Ministry of Magic official (Lyle Lupin was in charge of the trial of Greyback, which offended him, leading to Greyback's retaliatory bite on Remus). Even if you become a werewolf, he still has the ability to control you."

"Later, they even sent you to Hogwarts, and you even made three friends! My lucky partner. The reality is that most werewolves are incredibly unlucky compared to you. Their parents and relatives usually don't survive the first full moon. Many werewolves break down under such blows and then give up on themselves."

"..."

Mundungus had something he was too embarrassed to say: in his view, Remus Lupin had spent most of his life being well protected by the "ivory tower."

He has never truly experienced what despair is!

Phil, after hearing Mundungus's words, exclaimed, "Greybuck is truly despicable; many tragedies are caused by him!"

Distracted by him, Mundungus stopped mocking Lupin: "Travers kid, so righteous, why don't you help me put this guy in my pocket?"

"..."

"Hurry up, maybe when we get back Mr. Weasley will have a way to dig out where Greyback is hiding from their memories, and then you might be able to vent your strange sense of justice!"

“Mr. Fletcher, I think I need to explain that the Travers family I belong to is different from the other Travers family…”

"Shut up and get to work!"

(End of this chapter)