"He is nothing but a sniveling traitor!" Fiennes hovered in the air, gazing down at Pedro with undisguised contempt. "He took advantage of that girl's madness, faked his own death, and then left me to deal with an enemy he was too much of a coward to face himself."
Pedro's face burned red. He retreated a step, then squared his shoulders and stepped forward again. "Every last one of my apprentices wishes me dead — so why should I not use you as a shield?"
"Hah!" Fiennes let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You've finally admitted it, don't you?"
"Have you ever wondered why none of your apprentices ever truly respected you as a master?"
Pedro quickly recomposed himself, his gaze hardening into a cold, mocking stare. "You're dead, Fiennes. A ghost. I have absolutely nothing left to fear from you."
"True enough," Fiennes smiled, thick with derision. "But the same does not apply to you. Your own apprentice now wants you dead as well!"
Pedro flushed hotly again, stung by Fiennes's contemptuous tone.
Anton watched them with curiosity. "I remember going with you once to that wandering wizards' gathering — Pedro was there. You two actually seemed... quite friendly back then."
Fiennes scoffed. "Only because he couldn't kill me."
Pedro shot back with equal disdain "And because he couldn't kill me, either."
"Wild," Anton murmured, a slight smile playing on his lips. "So you've just been keeping this weird, delicate balance all this time?"
Both spoke in perfect unison: "Because everyone must learn to compromise."
For beings like them — neither fully human, nor anything close to divine — compromise was the only way to survive.
One was an ancient goblin, hundreds of years old; the other, a ghost barely holding onto his own will.
"Could you tell me about Lupin first?" Anton pointed to the figure atop the sand pile. "Oh — he's the friend I told you about."
He didn't care about their bickering or whatever messy history they had. As far as he was concerned, neither of them was someone he could truly count on.
Fiennes always said I loved tricking people, but he knew perfectly well that the ghost never really got it right. Lupin though? Lupin was someone he could actually trust. From now on, he'd rely on Lupin to watch his back — just like he'd always looked out for him. That's all that mattered to him, not their silly fights and arguments.
No matter how different they were — good, bad, whatever — those two had one big thing in common: both were absolutely obsessed with their research, through and through.
Fiennes's face grew serious at once. "Don't ever go lumping maledictuses and werewolves together — how could they possibly be the same thing? You've completely missed how magic really works. I've seen it with my own eyes: the core patterns inside werewolves and Animagi are exactly alike."
"I have no time for such nonsense," Pedro snapped irritably. "An Animagus is a learned, complex form of shape-shifting. A werewolf suffers from a contagious bite. a Maledictus inherits their curse from birth."
"It is like comparing goblins, house-elves, and humans. Sure, they all walk on two legs and they might only look different in size or appearance — but deep down, they're entirely separate kinds of beings. Nothing alike at all."
"Ah, poor old Pedro," Fiennes said, half smug, half pitying. "After hundreds of years, you think you know it all? Truth is, you're still just a cheap little trick — everyone's seen right through you ages ago."
"You know nothing at all!" Pedro roared in fury. He lunged forward to strike Fiennes, but his short stature let him down; no matter how high he jumped, he could not reach.
"Heh~ can't reach, can't reach!" Fiennes taunted, drifting just out of his grasp.
Anton stood there watching. He'd seen this exact silly fight happen so many times before; he already knew exactly what was coming next.
This poor goblin — whether he was eating, sleeping, or even using the toilet — just couldn't catch a break. That loud, annoying ghost was always right there, pestering him nonstop, never giving him even a single moment of peace.
And honestly? Fiennes really was a master of the Cruciatus. Even dead, he still knew exactly how to torment someone until they lost their mind.
You've got to admit… that's actually pretty impressive, in a twisted sort of way.
At least now, Anton could finally look forward to some peace and quiet — sleeping and waking up without anyone bugging him nonstop.
He waited patiently till their squabbling died down, then smoothly cut in right when things got tense.
Finally, Pedro stepped forward, completely ignoring Fiennes, and jabbed a finger sharply at the sand on the table.
"Watch closely, boy."
The werewolf shape dissolved away, leaving only the form of a black wolf in its place.
Then the dark mass began to split and shift, like a cluster of jellyfish trailing countless writhing tendrils.
Those tendrils wove together, coiled tight, and twisted around one another in a fluid dance.
Suddenly, with a sharp pull, they drew inward and re-formed — condensing steadily into the shape of a human being.
"This right here is exactly how magic shifts when you go through a transformation spell," Pedro explained.
The figure kept flickering back and forth between human and werewolf. Just then, Pedro snapped his fingers.
The sand swirled together into a wand, and sent out a wide, fan-shaped wave of grains. They rushed in and filled every tiny gap where the form didn't quite line up perfectly while shifting from beast back to man.
"It achieves much the same result," Pedro said, picking up his cigar again. "See — when you transform, the outside might change completely, but deep down, there's this unstable, shifting process still settling into place. And the curse? It leaves a mark on that process that can never be undone."
"Basically… Lupin got hit with the Cruciatus Curse right in the middle of transforming. That magic got locked in place. Unless you strip it away, he's stuck carrying around a weaker version of that curse forever."
"Wait — the Cruciatus… but weaker?" Anton blinked, completely surprised. "So you're saying werewolves are at their most vulnerable right before and right after they transform — and soul magic works best on them at those times?"
"Hehehe," Pedro let out an odd, rasping chuckle, pointing at Anton then glancing over at the old ghost. "Your apprentice here — just like you — all he thinks about is killing, isn't he?"
Fiennes scoffed coldly. "You're no better than us."
"Come on! Magic's all about how much damage you can do — especially in those situations where it's kill or be killed, right?" Anton rolled his eyes. He was still young and didn't know that many spells; to him, if something didn't keep you alive or help you win, what was even the point of it?
But whatever the case… he finally understood exactly what Lupin was going through now.
"Can it be cured?" He asked.
Pedro sighed heavily. "Incredibly difficult. Think of it like picking threads stuck in every bone — you've got to pull each one out carefully, and you can only do it right at the full moon. Slow, painful work."
"Needs at least six goes… almost half a year."
"That is utter rubbish." Fiennes scoffed again. "All you know is flinging dark magic around — you don't get the first thing about how it really works or what it's secrets."
That was the last straw for Pedro. He snapped right back, letting fly with every nasty curse and insult he'd picked up over hundreds of years.
Anton's eyes suddenly lit up. "Then how exactly do you do it?"
Fiennes grinned confidently. "Simple. Use a Banishing or Counter‑Charm to unravel any foreign magic. A werewolf's own transformation will naturally push it away once it's loose."
"To sense and untangle it safely, take a Wiggenweld Potion— add Dittany and Moondew. It sharpens your senses, helps you trace the curse, and keeps you steady while you work."
Seeing Pedro stay silent without a word of protest, Anton's excitement grew. "I can make that potion, Mr. Pedro! Will you give this method a shot?"
"Hahaha!" Fiennes cackled. "Save your breath — he's tried before and failed spectacularly! He can barely pull off regular wizard spells, let alone force himself to drink that potion. He'd never have the guts."
"Spot on, you ghostly nuisance," Pedro shot back with a sharp sneer. "When you sent that witch to steal my work, I know you made someone test the potion first. They all died, didn't they? You'd never be brave enough to drink it yourself — would you?"
He fixed his gaze on Anton. "Listen, boy — I won't help you cure that werewolf. Fiennes only wants you to go through with it so the Unbreakable Vow turns around and kills me instead."
Anton couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He wondered if he should tell Pedro that the Vow was completely useless as far as he was concerned — the whole thing was just hilarious to him, and he honestly didn't care one bit.
"Hehehe..." Fiennes floated lazily around them. "You'll be begging for this before it's over, Pedro. You daft, scheming goblin... you wanted to destroy me so bad you trapped yourself with an Unbreakable Vow. Picking apart magic thread by thread? That's such a clumsy, ridiculous way to do it."