Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 5 The Past of the Werewolf Bates

As night deepened, a full, white moon hung in the night sky. The silvery moonlight spilled onto the pristine white snow, and the mountains, trees, and earth reflected each other in a beautiful and serene scene.

The white fur blanket was very warm, and Loren was a little bored in the shelter made of tree branches.

The quiet world was shattered by a roar.

"Ugh..."

"what!"

Bates's suppressed, painful voice came from the cave, low and muffled, like someone writhing on the ground in agony.

"what!"

The painful cries became higher and hoarse, yet also seemed to carry a sense of relief.

There was a moment of silence.

"Awoo~"

The sharp howls of wolves pierced through the rocks and echoed across the wilderness, reverberating between the mountains.

Loren's face turned pale instantly.

Creak~

The sound of claws scraping against the rocks filled the air as the werewolf, transformed inside, scratched repeatedly. Then came dull thuds as the werewolf rammed its body against the rock wall, trying to find a way out.

Loren took a deep breath, trying to control his trembling body, deciding it was best to leave first. No one knew whether Grandpa Bates, who had lost his mind, would actually make it out.

After packing his belongings, he quickly returned to the cabin under the bright moonlight.

His pace quickened, and he gradually began to run through the mountains and fields. When he arrived home, he discovered that the tarpaulin used to block the wind had been torn open with a large hole.

Loren opened the door, scooped up a handful of snow and put it in the stove to melt. The room gradually warmed up, and he moistened his throat with a mouthful of water, beginning to organize his thoughts.

Grandpa Bates is a werewolf who transforms uncontrollably every month when the moon is full. He has to go to the mountain every month to spend the night of the full moon, after which he will be in a period of weakness.

This explains Bates' strange habits.

The strange rumors circulating in the town were meant to keep the townspeople away from Bates; they might have been spread by someone in the know, or they might have been spread by Bates himself.

Solving one mystery only brings forth more.

Why would Bates be willing to raise a burden? He's clearly more comfortable on his own.

Were they really related? If not, what were the church and government's motives in sending him there?

Is this really the Britain of the 80s that he knew before?

If there are werewolves, will there be vampires? What roles do the Vatican and the government play?

One question after another, one doubt after another.

And more recently, the occult knowledge in those two books—is alchemy really just a story? What exactly is that strange bookseller's purpose?

Most importantly, should he run away from Bates?

The jumbled thoughts yielded no results, but one thing was certain: a minor could not possibly travel far.

Grandpa Bates' wrinkled face floated into Loren's mind, his smiling face when he said he would achieve great things, his angry rebuke when he saw him playing in the snow in just a shirt, and his weakness after returning from the mountains every month.

It had been so long without him realizing it. He decided to wait; Grandpa Bates was worthy of his trust.

Loren lay on the small bed and fell into a deep sleep.

The next day.

When Loren woke up, it was already broad daylight. He went to the sheepfold, milked the sheep, boiled and cooled the milk; one sip and he felt refreshed.

Putting aside all the commotion from last night, Loren decided to leave it at that; no matter how complicated things became, they were beyond his current capabilities.

Grandpa Bates is still Grandpa Bates. No matter what, during the years he spent on the ranch, Bates always treated him like family.

Having figured these things out, Loren was no longer troubled.

The sky shone with a clear light, reflecting on the white snow and illuminating one's heart.

What an interesting world! Maybe he'll encounter extraordinary people and things in the future, and become an extraordinary person himself.

Loren's mind transitioned from Vampire Hunter to DC Marvel, and his mood became increasingly cheerful.

In the afternoon, Bates dragged his tired body down the mountain.

"Grandpa, you're back!" Loren saw him from afar.

"Um."

Bates looked at the person in front of him, who was already quite a big kid, and sighed with mixed feelings. A strange mix of emotions welled up inside him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Bates recalled that when the child first arrived, he was like a kitten, but now he is ten years old and can go up the mountain on his own.

When he came out of the cave, he saw the traces left by Loren. The shelter was built in a decent way, but he didn't know how to start a fire.

Bates felt both relieved and worried, unsure how much had been discovered.

There were some things Bates wanted to take to his grave, but he underestimated the wisdom of a child. He was thinking about how to bring it up and where to begin.

"I cooked lamb stew with potatoes and macaroni." Loren didn't notice Bates' unusual expression.

Bates sighed with relief: "What a hardworking lad."

He planned to enjoy the meal first, since he was still very weak.

……

After swallowing the last piece of lamb chop, Bates let out a satisfied sigh. "Even with the same dish, your cooking is always much better than mine."

Loren raised his eyebrows: "That's a talent."

The two chatted and laughed as they cleared away the dishes and sat on the steps by the door. They watched as the moonlight poured down from the mountains, draping the white snow-capped peaks in a silver veil.

"Would you like to hear an old man tell a story?" The old man's voice held a sense of relief.

"Experience is wisdom," Loren replied.

"Forty years ago, when I was a young man..."

Bates served in World War II when he was young, although not on the main battlefield, but it was still dangerous.

On a return journey while escorting supplies, they encountered a small elite force of enemy troops in the mountains.

A squadron chased them around in circles, and eventually Bates' squad became separated from the main force. They continued in the general direction of their return journey, deeper and deeper into the mountains, with the pursuers closing in on them.

"We stumbled into a mountain cabin, somewhat similar to ours, but much bigger." Bates looked back at his cabin, and for a moment it seemed as if he saw the recruit squad from forty years ago.

Besides the usual living items, there was a room in the wooden house that looked like a cage. Inside the cage lay a middle-aged woman, the door tightly closed and secured with three or four iron padlocks the size of footballs, as if the woman were some kind of extremely terrifying beast.

The key was on the ground not far from the cell door. They opened the cell door and woke the woman.

The woman told them that she was a legendary werewolf who would transform into a werewolf and lose her mind every full moon, and that she had always lived in the mountains.

Tonight is another full moon, so I locked myself up in advance. After saying this, the woman told the men to leave as soon as possible.

The young recruits were full of novel ideas: wouldn't they be able to break through the encirclement if they turned into werewolves?

Three people in the group agreed with the idea, while the others did not want to betray their faith and fall into the embrace of darkness.

Young Bates, filled with holy light, led a few people of unwavering faith out of the cabin.

The other three wanted to take a gamble. They sprinkled the woman's saliva on the wound and waited inside for the enemy and the night to arrive.

"And then, why did you also turn into a werewolf?" Loren asked.

"That's just how fate is; it never goes in the direction people expect," Bates sighed.

The three recruits transformed into werewolves and quickly wiped out the pursuing enemy troops, also catching up with their comrades by following their scent.

"I watched as the beasts tore my comrades to pieces, and the moonlight that night was like blood." Bates covered his face, his voice trembling with sobs.

The moon finally set, and Bates, though slightly injured, miraculously survived.

The three werewolf comrades regained their senses, found it difficult to accept their actions, and committed suicide by shooting themselves.

Later, Bates noticed the bite marks on her arm while treating her wound.

"I returned to England with their wills and immense fear, carrying their hopes for their families."

After handling his comrade's funeral arrangements, Bates wanted to return to his hometown and spend the rest of his days in peace.

As he passed through this town, he would be spending the first full moon night since being bitten. Ignoring the residents' warnings, Bates went up the mountain alone, walking for hours into the depths of the mountains…

"When I woke up this morning, I was near this cabin. I had made a mess of the woods, and I had torn some animals to pieces. There was blood everywhere," Bates said slowly in his aged voice, recounting the gruesome scene.

Loren knew this was the origin of the rumors circulating down the mountain.

Bates settled here, afraid to marry or go home, and his family believed he had died on the battlefield.

(End of this chapter)