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Chapter Begins:
When Harry and Ron reached the girls' bathroom, it wasn't the sight they had expected to see.
In utter terror, the boys saw… not one… not two… not three… but four werewolves launching themselves on the Aurors who kept blasting spells at them, trying to keep them away.
Booms and bangs were ringing high and low, yet the creatures, towering high on two legs as they clawed, remained unfazed.
Even from afar, hiding in shadows, the boys could sense something wrong.
The werewolves weren't acting like werewolves at all!
"Didn't Professor Quirrell tell us that werewolves run away if hit hard?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Ron gulped. "I… don't… know," he mumbled, his throat full of needles. "It's like one of those spells father keeps talking about. Im… Impor… something. I don't remember."
What Ron did remember, however, was that if a werewolf bit him, he would surely die!
Not to mention, they couldn't see any teacher here. It meant there were werewolves in dungeons as well, keeping the teachers occupied.
"How can so many werewolves enter Hogwarts anyway?!" Harry asked, ignoring Ron's stutters.
First, his little interaction with the Dark Wizard under the Gringotts, then the Battle of Legends. The more Harry found himself involved in disastrous events, the more he kept becoming calmer in those situations.
It wasn't like he didn't fear the werewolves, either. Of course, he did. The mere sight of the beasts, their canines, claws, and ugly bodies, was enough to send a chill running down his spine.
Yet, Harry couldn't find any reason to just… panic.
Ron's face had paled so much that he looked like Bloody Baron.
Suddenly, they heard something that made their hearts stop — a high, petrified scream — and it was coming from the chamber just behind the magical flashes, at the end of the corridor.
"Hermione!" they said together.
Neither of them wanted to do it, but they didn't have much choice left.
Putting on gloves, the boys stuck themselves to the corridor's wall like lizards and sprinted as fast as humanely possible.
Not so surprisingly, they weren't fast enough.
A00000000000000000uuuuuuuu!
One of the werewolves let out a monstrous howl seeing the two boys creeping along the wall. It lunged at them like a wraith gliding over a dark floor.
The Auror, who had been trying to blast the werewolf off, lost all color on his face. He ran like a maniac and fired a Stupefy spell, blasting the beast off its mark. The werewolf slammed into the corridor wall just a few feet behind the boys.
"Run!" the Auror shouted at them. He had no time to think about what the two boys were doing here.
Coincidentally, the boys were also pressed for time to give any thought to their actions.
Under the blinding flashes, Harry and Ron ran for their lives and entered the girls' bathroom.
Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint.
A lanky werewolf, with saliva dripping off its mouth, was growling at her as he closed on her. All around, sinks were broken, telling a tale of horrifying struggle.
Hermione had put up a fight, but she seemed to have lost.
Harry and Ron exchanged a hurried look, deciding what they needed to do.
Their gloved fists clenched, the archaic, runic letter shining on the back of their hands.
Black had told them they could only let out a Knockout Punch two times with these gloves. Then, the gloves would lose their magic.
Whatever they needed to do, they must do it fast.
The werewolf took the last step, stood up on its elongated paws, and lifted its right claw.
"Oi!" Harry shouted and ran toward the werewolf.
The beast snapped its head back but was a bit taken aback by the sudden sound.
By the time it doubled back and opened its frothy jaws to bite Harry, Ron had already run to the place behind his back.
Both boys swung their fists up like an uppercut.
Boom!
Pressed between the two magical punches, the werewolf lifted and slammed into the ceiling. Before it could fall, though, Harry and Ron again swung their fists, ramming the werewolf into the ceiling even deeper.
This time, the beast didn't even fall.
Its back had plunged deep into the ceiling, its eyes rolling back into its head.
Harry and Ron, purely stunned, looked at their gloves, their jaws hanging low. Were the punches always supposed to be this powerful?!
Harry regained his bearing sooner than Ron. He ran to Hermione and brought her to her feet. "Ron!" he shouted, pulling her toward the door. "Let's go!"
Both boys almost ran toward the bathroom's door, with Hermione between them.
And then it happened.
Bang!
A brilliant flash of white!
A dark, grayish figure got blasted into the girls' bathroom!
Growling, the figure clawed on the floor, stood up, and snapped its fearsome, bloody eyes at them!
"Oh, no!" Harry and Ron hissed together, losing strength in their legs.
Hermione had already taken a step back, the face of a huge undead Basilisk replacing the werewolf's sharp fangs in her eyes. The trauma of the Battle of Legends was still afresh in her mind. That's why she had been going to Madam Villanelle twice a week for counseling.
Thud!
Their heads snapped back.
The werewolf, which was stuck to the ceiling, had fallen.
It shook its head like a drunk man and stood up as well. The moment it saw the children, the primal urge to tear them apart bubbled in its eyes, making it growl.
The two werewolves snapped their jaws and stepped towards them.
This was it, wasn't it? The three thought. They would die here.
*
*
"Get down!"
Black crouched and the werewolf's claw swiped the air above his head, taking away a few hairs, too.
A red, lightning-like flash left Snape's wand and sent the werewolf flying back from wherever it had come from.
Black frowned.
There is… he thought, standing up casually, … something seriously wrong with this timeline's villains, I swear.
First, it was Ekrizdis, going to hire Grindelwald without letting him know. That had resulted in such a fiasco that Kai was still trying to connect all the dots.
Now, just who knew what possessed Voldemort to let werewolves lose at Hogwarts? The Advance Ad Infinitum couldn't come out with an answer, despite its Proficiency. It was supposed to be just a reconnaissance of the 3rd floor, wasn't it? A failed one at that, no?
Then why the fuck is he blowing mountains when he was just supposed to scratch the surface?! Black thought, a vein pulsing on his forehead. And how the hell did he get so many werewolves past Hogwarts' security?
Well, this at least he could get an answer of.
…
Lucky Intuition No. $%^$$ — Shrinking Spell cast on non-transformed Werewolves
Lucky Intuition No. $@@#$ — Shrunk wizards forced fed to Owl on deliveries
Luck Intuition No. #@#$3 — Halloween Mails came today morning
…
Black lifted his hands and clapped.
Clap! Clap!! Clap!!
Black was astounded. He truly was.
To think this was the same Dark Lord who couldn't steal a stone from a child who's almost blind without glasses…
Is this because of Dumbledore? Black guessed, the AI finally picking up pace, generating theories. It's possible that the transition of Mirror Timeline to Pillar will keep bringing unfathomable changes to not only Magic, but also to its main storyline Characters. Hmm… Interesting…
"You can clap for me later," Snape hissed, his voice barely audible. He approached Black and eyed the dark corridor, where the growling had intensified. "Follow me. And take out your wand."
Black rolled his eyes as the Professor took the lead.
He just hoped none of the boys would die.
Or worse — get expelled.
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