Tears began to roll down Fang’s face as he spoke. "They ambushed us in the dead of night. We fought with everything we had, but there were too many of them. My parents and brother… they were gone. Those monsters ate them alive. I only survived because that werewolf wizard decided I might be worth selling."
Overcome with emotion, Fang broke into sobs, his body trembling with grief. Alex remained silent, his own chest tightening as he listened. These werewolves truly deserved their fate, but it also reminded him of the grim reality many lycanthropy victims faced. Shunned by wizarding society and hunted by their own kind, they lived lives filled with pain and isolation.
When Fang’s sobbing subsided, Alex handed him another bottle of tonic and followed it with a vial of healing potion, carefully administering it with his wand. "Earlier, you mentioned merchants coming to pick up goods. What did you mean by that?" Alex asked as he tended to Fang’s wounds.
Fang’s voice was steadier now. "The werewolves go out daily, looking for magical creatures to capture. Sometimes they bring in cloaked buyers who inspect the creatures like merchandise. If the merchant seems vulnerable or doesn’t have enough influence, the werewolves kill them, dismember the body, and keep their belongings."
Alex’s brow furrowed as he processed the information. These weren’t just smugglers—they were operating a ruthless local trade as well. He recalled stories of black-market merchants found dismembered in the Forbidden Forest. Doing business with werewolves seemed to be a deadly gamble.
With the werewolves gone, Alex began to consider what to do next. His gaze drifted back to Fang. "Fang, I need you to answer this honestly," Alex said, his tone serious as he crouched down to meet the wolf’s eyes. "I know that children born to infected werewolves in human form don’t show signs of lycanthropy. But what about you? If you bite someone, could they be infected?"
Fang’s ears twitched nervously, but his eyes remained clear and steady. "I’ve been tested by my parents," he replied earnestly. "There’s no trace of the lycanthropy virus in me. I don’t transform during the full moon. When I was younger, I accidentally bit someone in a human village—my mother was horrified—but nothing happened. No infection."
As Fang spoke, Alex subtly activated Legilimency, probing the truthfulness of his words. The wolf’s thoughts were consistent with his claims—Fang was telling the truth. Still, Alex took no chances. He pulled out a test tube, carefully collected a saliva sample, and sealed it for further testing later. "If you’re not contagious, I don’t see a reason not to help you," Alex said after a moment. "You’ve been through enough."
Fang’s ears perked up, and a glimmer of hope returned to his tired eyes. With Fang’s situation resolved for now, Alex turned his attention to the other creatures. Their condition weighed heavily on his mind. Releasing them back into the wild wasn’t an option—not in their current state. Most were too weak to fend for themselves, and many would end up preying on one another.
For example, the Horned Camelopard was a natural predator of the Mooncalves. Letting them loose together would only lead to disaster. And then there was the matter of Fenrir. Alex couldn’t rule out the possibility of him returning to this stronghold. Someone needed to keep an eye on the place in case the werewolf leader tried to reestablish his operations. Alex sighed. "This isn’t something I can handle alone. Time to bring in the professionals."
His first thought was to alert the Ministry of Magic, particularly through Alastor Moody. The Auror had a summoning amulet that Alex could use to call him directly. However, the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures wasn’t known for its compassion. They might not handle Fang’s case with the care it deserved. Instead, Alex decided it was better to start with someone more trustworthy. "Hagrid," he muttered to himself. The gamekeeper at Hogwarts had a deep love for magical creatures and wouldn’t hesitate to help care for them.
Alex resolved to contact Hagrid first. He’d bring the creatures back to Hogwarts and ensure they received the care they needed. Once that was settled, he’d turn over the stronghold’s monitoring to the Ministry. “Stay here for a while. I’ll bring someone back to give you proper treatment. If Fenrir returns, use this amulet to alert me, and I’ll come to back you up.”
He handed Fang a amulet, along with some dried meat to fill his stomach. The husky nodded solemnly, his sharp eyes showing understanding. With that, Alex left the underground cave, walking back through the dim tunnel.
Once outside, Alex gathered the corpse of the werewolf guarding the entrance and carefully hid it in the underbrush. Satisfied, he moved into the nearby woods, where Wimzy was waiting.
The moment she saw him, Wimzy’s eyes lit up. She opened her mouth to greet him but quickly stopped herself, remembering his earlier instructions to stay quiet. Instead, she gave him an eager, hopeful look. “Wimzy, I need your help with something,” Alex said, his voice calm but firm. He scooped her up and carried her to a tree near the tunnel. There, he slipped off his sweater and draped the shimmering cloak over her small shoulders.
“See that big rock over there?” he asked, pointing at the disguised tunnel entrance. “I need you to keep an eye on it. If you see that werewolf wizard—or if anything unusual happens—activate the amulet I gave you earlier. Use the shimmering cloak to stay hidden, and if things get dangerous, Apparate away immediately. Your safety comes first.”
Wimzy nodded seriously, her usual timid demeanor replaced with a newfound confidence. “Don’t worry, Master. I’ll keep watch.” Pleased with her determination, Alex gave her a reassuring pat before vanishing with a crack, Apparating to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts’ magical protections prevented him from Apparating directly onto the grounds, so he had to approach on foot.
The early morning sun cast a soft glow over Hogwarts, illuminating the mist-covered grounds. Alex mounted his broomstick and quickly flew to Hagrid’s hut, landing in front of the familiar wooden door. “Hagrid! Are you awake?” Alex called out, knocking loudly.
After a moment, the door creaked open to reveal Hagrid, dressed in his usual pink one-piece pajamas, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “What’s all this racket for? Alex, where’ve you been all night? I’ve been worried sick!” Hagrid grumbled. “I didn’t dare leave the amulet you gave me.”
Alex gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, Hagrid, but we’ve got a situation. There are over a dozen magical creatures imprisoned nearby, and they need urgent care.”
Hagrid’s eyes widened. “You found magical creatures? Wait, don’t tell me—werewolf smugglers?” His voice rose with concern. “You started a fight with werewolves? Merlin’s beard, Alex, why didn’t you call for help? What if somethin’ had happened to you?”
Alex raised a hand to stop him. “I’m fine. See? Not a scratch on me.” He gestured at himself, then added, “The situation was urgent, Hagrid. If I’d waited, those poor creatures would’ve been dead—or worse.”