Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Snape's wand was still raised in mid-air.

His gaze shifted from the unconscious werewolf to the iron pincers in Kane's hand.

Then they moved to the boy's slightly heaving chest—where not even a trace of his clothes had been touched by the wolf's claws.

What just happened shocked even the usually stern-faced Snape!

"You..." Snape's voice choked up, which was unusual for him.

His brows furrowed into a three-fold crease, as if he were reassessing his godfather.

Kane shook his numb wrist; a few silver-gray wolf hairs were still stuck to the pliers.

"A werewolf's skull is harder than a troll's."

He said, panting.

Snape's lips twitched a few times before he finally managed to squeeze out, "...Does your father know how adept you are at solving problems in a Muggle way?"

Kane dropped the pliers.

He took the crystal bottle from Snape and knelt down.

The werewolf's pupils were already dilated, but it was still struggling.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Kane said apologetically as he looked at the other person's miserable state.

Then he grabbed the werewolf's chin and poured the potion down his throat.

The werewolf struggled violently, letting out painful whimpers from its throat.

Kane held it down tightly until the last drop of the medicine slid down his throat.

A few seconds of silence.

Then--

The sound of bones contracting, hair receding, and fangs retracting.

Lupin curled up on the ground, trembling all over, but had already returned to human form.

He looked up, the silvery-blue traces of the medicine still lingering at the corner of his mouth.

"...It's really bitter." He smacked his lips and said subconsciously.

Snape scoffed. "At least you didn't vomit your bile."

Kane reached out and helped Lupin up.

Lupin's head was buzzing, as if someone had stuffed a whole nest of fried snails into it.

He managed to stand still, leaning against the wall, the scene before him still swaying.

Snape's black robes resembled an ominous cloud.

Kane Malfoy stood to the side, his silver-blue eyes filled with an emotion that Malfoy couldn't decipher.

"Looks like your brain hasn't been completely turned into mush by your werewolf instincts yet."

Snape's voice was like a blade scraping against a metal plate: "Nod if you can understand human speech."

Lupin blinked slowly.

A bitter taste rose in my throat, and my stomach started to clench.

He instinctively touched the top of his head—where blood was streaming down.

The pain made him gasp.

"Feel sorry."

He said hoarsely, his voice sounding like it had been sanded, "I didn't expect you to come."

Snape sneered, "Dumbledore sent us to inform you, also because he thinks you're not entirely useless."

"Tomorrow at noon, Wizengamo."

Kane bent down and picked up the crystal bottle from the ground; a few drops of silver-blue liquid remained at the bottom of the bottle.

He shook his head thoughtfully. "Did Professor Snape add three times the dosage of wormwood? The smell could knock out even a troll."

Lupin suddenly froze.

The moonlight still streamed through the broken window and fell upon him—the cool, bright, and perfectly complete radiance of the full moon.

But his skin was not torn and his bones were not deformed.

Only the pain in his head remained as a reminder of what had just happened.

"I..." He looked down at his human hand, long and slender fingers, neat nails, "I haven't transformed?"

Kane stuffed the crystal bottle into his dragon-skin pouch: "An improved version of Wolfsbane Potion. Theoretically, it will allow you to retain your original form on the night of a full moon, and even restore your sanity when you're a werewolf, but—"

He glanced at the pliers on the ground. "The physical sedation we just did was an unexpected measure."

Lupin's fingertips trembled slightly.

For the first time in years, the full moon did not bring heart-wrenching pain or a sense of madness.

If you ignore the blood on his head and the lingering bitter taste of the medicine in his mouth...

"Thank you," he said in a hoarse voice.

Kane simply shrugged. "Don't thank me. It was Professor Snape's creation; I just provided some...theoretical support."

Suddenly, a muffled "thump" came from outside the window.

Then came a splashing sound.

A grey wood owl stumbled and crashed into the window frame.

The envelope in its mouth was torn at one corner, and its feathers were all messy, making it look like it had just fought with a stray ball.

It shook its head, feeling dizzy.

He then glared angrily with his bright yellow eyes, as if questioning, "This wretched place doesn't even have a proper place to stay?!"

Lupin hadn't even had a chance to speak.

The owl had already pecked open the window latch in a fit of rage.

With a "smack," a wing slapped the letter across his face.

The force was so great that it almost knocked the thin and recently injured Lupin unconscious.

"Hiss—" Lu Ping covered his nose and took a step back.

The owl proudly raised its head.

It was preparing to add another wing to display its majesty.

Suddenly, I noticed a bright red stain on the feathers of my right wing.

It froze.

He slowly lowered his head and looked at the blood on the feathers.

He slowly raised his head and looked at Lu Ping's hand covering his nose.

"Goo..." The owl's pupils dilated instantly, and the whole bird seemed to be petrified.

—Merlin's smelly socks! They made the recipient bleed?!

The owl's career flashed through my mind: ten years of delivering mail, zero negative reviews, a model employee of the Hogwarts Owl House, and even nominated for "Postman of the Year" by the Daily Prophet last year for his 100% on-time delivery rate...

And now, it is a noble greywood owl!

It actually caused personal injury during the mission!

The owl's feathers popped open with a "whoosh," and the bird instantly became much fatter, looking like a fluffy ball with wings.

It panicked and frantically thrashed about, circling Lupin's head wildly.

Its wings flapped against his ears, as if to say, "Are you alright?! Don't die! I didn't mean to!"

Lupin, dizzy from the slaps, had to reach out and grab it, shouting, "Stop! Stop! This blood isn't your fault!"

The owl slammed on the brakes, tilted its head, and looked at the car with a suspicious expression: "Coo?"

"It was just now... uh..." Lupin awkwardly pointed to the blood-stained iron pliers on the ground, "I got into a fight with the furniture."

The owl stared at the pincers for two seconds, then slowly turned its head to look at Kane.

The boy was leaning against the wall, toying with a Galleon in his hand.

His face was full of disdain, as if to say, "Did this bird get its brain caught in a door?"

"Coo!" The owl instantly regained its arrogance, puffing out its chest as if the panic from before had never happened.

It disdainfully preened its feathers with its paws, then flew proudly towards the window.

Before leaving, he didn't forget to turn back and glare at Lupin, his eyes clearly saying:

"Next time, find a more decent place to stay! And—remember to give a five-star review!"

With a flapping sound, the greywood owl disappeared into the night.

Only a few fallen feathers and a disheveled Lupin remained.

Kane finally couldn't help but chuckle: "I bet it'll go back and complain to its friends about whether the recipient is trying to extort money."