Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The communication has ended here. The magic of the connection is limited and cannot sustain communication for extended periods.

Kane closed his eyes to process this information, then looked at Moody: "Lupin said that Graybury might complete the transformation before the full moon is fully up. If we enter at midnight as planned, we might be facing an enemy who has already consolidated their new power and integrated the tribe."

Moody's prosthetic eye stopped moving: "What do you mean?"

"Ahead of time," Kane said. "When the full moon has just risen, when the werewolves are just beginning to get restless but haven't fully transformed yet. At that time, Greyback might still be adjusting to his new power, and the tribe won't be fully assembled."

"What about the risks?"

"Even bigger," Kane admitted. "If we go too early, the werewolves might still retain enough human sanity to doubt and be hostile towards us. And Voldemort is still there; without the moonlight to interfere, he's in better shape."

"But if we wait until Greyback has completed his transformation and Voldemort has finished his speech before we make our move..." Moody frowned, "we might really have no choice but to launch a full-scale attack."

The two looked at each other. Outside the safe house, the night wind howled, carrying the desolate atmosphere unique to the highlands.

"How much longer will it take to refine the medicine?" Moody asked.

Kane looked at the suspended silver-blue sphere of light. The potion had completed its initial fusion; now it needed "enchantment"—vibrating at a specific magical frequency to resonate the potion with the magic of the moonlight. This process could not be interrupted, nor could it be accelerated.

"It will take at least another four hours," Kane estimated. "By then, the moon will be halfway up."

"Then let's compromise." Moody untied a small leather pouch from his belt and poured out its contents—a dozen or so small metal spheres, each only the size of a button, their surfaces engraved with tiny runes. "These are 'little surprises' I prepared twenty years ago. Bright light, loud noises, smoke, and fluctuations that can temporarily interfere with magical perception. If we need to create chaos and buy time, these can come in handy."

Kane picked up a small ball and examined the runes on it closely: "An Auror item?"

"An improved version." Moody rarely showed a hint of pride. "Back then, the Auror office director said I was 'too radical' and confiscated my designs. But I kept a backup, and I made some more myself after I retired."

"How far can it interfere?"

"A single one, thirty feet in radius. If seven are activated simultaneously, arranged in a specific array, they can cover the entire central open area of ​​the camp," Moody said. "But the opportunity is only once—once used, Voldemort and Greyback will know we're here."

Kane pondered for a moment. His gaze swept over the seven crucibles slowly merging, over Igor, who was tired but still alert, on the windowsill, and over Moody's scarred but resolute face.

"We need a signal," Kane said. "A signal to let Lupin know when we're going to make our move, and a signal to the werewolves who are willing to defect, to let them know when it's time to act."

"The moment the full moon is fully risen?" Moody suggested. "At that moment, all werewolves will unconsciously look towards the moon; it's an instinctive attraction."

“No, Graybury might use that moment to complete the final transformation, or give a inflammatory speech.” Kane shook his head. “We need a… more sudden turning point.”

Igor called out softly.

Kane turned to look at the phoenix. Igor pointed out the window with its beak, then made a strange gesture—it spread its wings, but not to fly, but to make the light on its feathers flicker at a specific frequency: bright-dark-bright-dark-bright.

"The third flash." Kane understood. "As the full moon rises, the moonlight will pass through the clouds, creating changes in brightness. If we act during the third obvious shift in light and darkness, it won't be too early or too late. And at that moment, the werewolves will be briefly attracted by the changes in moonlight, but they won't be completely captivated."

Moody looked up at the night sky through a hole in the roof. Clouds were gathering, and the moon had not yet fully appeared, but as it moved through the gaps in the clouds, it did create regular changes in light and shadow.

"Can you predict it?" Old Auror asked.

“Igor can,” Kane said. “The phoenix’s perception of celestial phenomena and magical flow far surpasses that of humans. It can give a warning thirty seconds in advance.”

"Then it's settled." Moody began checking his equipment—a wand, a spare wand, various emergency potions, the bag of small balls, and a few magical items that Kane didn't recognize. "You focus on brewing potions, and I'll take care of the perimeter setup. Before the full moon rises, I'll set up several retreat points and distraction points around the camp."

"Be careful of Voldemort's detection," Kane warned. "He might be extremely sensitive right now."

"I know how to evade the dark wizards' eyes and ears," Moody grinned, the smile appearing somewhat sinister on his scarred face. "After all, I've captured more dark wizards than Hogwarts students."

He put on his cloak, pushed open the door, and quickly disappeared into the night.

Silence returned to the safe house. Kane sat back down in the center of the magic circle, wand raised high, and began guiding the final fusion steps. The silver-blue sphere of light slowly rotated, its color deepening with each rotation, and the starlight within growing brighter.

Igor flew down and landed on Kane's shoulder. The phoenix channeled some of its magic into Kane's body, helping him maintain precise control of the magic circle. It was a wondrous resonance—Kane could feel Igor's magic flowing through his veins like warm spring water, soothing the fatigue and restlessness caused by prolonged casting.

Time passed by, second by second.

The sky outside the window grew darker and darker, and then, a silvery-white hue began to appear on the eastern horizon.

The moon is about to rise.

The mark on Kane's hand emanated another wave of energy, this time from Tobias, whose voice was filled with fear:

[...Greybuck came out... his appearance... Merlin... he was gathering everyone... saying that he would 'witness a new life' before the moon fully rose...]

The message abruptly stopped. Kane could sense Tobias's fear almost overflowing through the connection.

He sped up the process of concocting the potion. The arc of the wand almost formed a net of light, and the liquid in the seven crucibles spun wildly. The last impurity was removed, and the color stabilized at a deep, indigo hue, as if containing the starry sky.

The final step is cooling and curing.

Kane took thirty crystal test tubes out of his bag and lined them up. Then, he made a risky decision—he bit his fingertip, squeezed out a drop of blood, and dripped it into the main potion.

The moment the blood droplet merged with it, the entire sphere of light trembled violently, its color shifting from indigo to a more bizarre silvery-purple. Igor let out a high-pitched cry, and the phoenix's magic flowed into it.