Sunlight fell on Valerius's pale face.
It did not turn him to ashes.
It only made him look like a prisoner trapped in daylight. A magnificent, ridiculous statue.
The corner of Douglas's mouth curled into a knowing smile.
"It seems our Cappadocian noble has finally found his true calling."
He stepped out of the shadows, his tone carrying undisguised mockery.
"Teaching the young. How noble."
Lupin shook his head with a bitter smile.
"Stop teasing him, Douglas."
"Honestly, I thought it was absurd too, at first." He glanced toward the werewolf students tidying their appearances. "But Valerius's classes are genuinely effective."
"Most of them have spent their entire lives in gutters and forests. They fear crowds. They fear being found out even more." Lupin's voice dropped, something like quiet admiration bleeding into it. "What Valerius teaches them isn't just table manners. It's how to live with dignity in the sunlight. Like normal people."
Douglas raised an eyebrow. Noncommittal.
Decent?
A vampire teaching werewolves about decency. That alone was a masterclass in black comedy.
By then, Valerius had noticed them. A complicated flicker crossed his pale face , resentment, fear, and beneath it all, the flat numbness of a man who had long since run out of ways to refuse reality. He straightened his bow tie and walked over with practiced elegance.
Textbook-perfect posture. Marionette-stiff execution.
"Professor Holmes." A slight bow. His voice came out smooth as expensive silk, every syllable buffed to a shine, not a trace of warmth underneath. "Welcome to observe my class."
Douglas studied the performance. Over a month of relative freedom had loosened the vampire's guard , or perhaps Valerius simply wanted to preserve his image as a model educator in front of a room full of his natural enemies. Either way, Douglas could work with that.
"Looks like you're doing well." He let the next word land with deliberate weight. "Assistant."
"Your expertise is clearly being put to good use here." A pleasant smile. "Better than rotting in my basement, isn't it?"
Valerius's eye twitched.
He recovered quickly, snapping his professional smile back into place like a mask clipped shut.
"It is my honor to serve Silvermane Academy." He bit down on the word honor like it had personally insulted him.
"Then keep up that honor."
Douglas clapped him on the shoulder and ignored the way his body went rigid.
"Oh — I brought you a little gift."
He pulled a small glass bottle from his pocket. Half-full of deep red liquid that caught the simulated sunlight with a thick, viscous gleam.
"Church special reserve. Diluted holy water, blended with compound potion and just a touch of..." He let the pause stretch. "Capsaicin."
His smile carried nothing but malice.
"It'll let you move freely in sunlight. Keep that flawless teacher image intact." Another pause, deliberate this time. "The taste, though..."
He tilted his head.
"...will stay with you for the rest of your very long life."
Valerius went paler than his white gloves.
He knew exactly what the bottle was. A chain. The price of his continued survival. His hand trembled as he reached out and took it.
"Thank you for your... generosity."
"Don't mention it." Douglas turned away. "You've earned it."
He looked to Lupin. "Remus. Take me to the R&D wing. I want to know what Fred and George have actually done with my funding."
Lupin nodded and led him deeper into the valley, toward the workshop district. Douglas glanced back once.
Valerius hadn't moved. He stood exactly where they'd left him, staring at the glass bottle in his hand like a man examining his own poison.
"You're too hard on him," Lupin said quietly.
"Hard on him?" Douglas smiled. "Remus, for a vampire who's had centuries to get used to suffering, pain isn't the real torture. Boredom is. I'm just giving him something to do. Letting him feel like he still matters." A beat. "It's called humanitarian concern."
They crossed the training ground and followed the sound of clanging metal into a district that smelled of iron shavings and slow-simmering potions. Several large timber workshops lined the riverbank, waterwheels churning massive gears, filling the air with a steady rhythmic roar.
The beating heart of Silvermane Academy.
The secret production floor of the Marauder Power Company.
They stepped into the largest workshop and were hit immediately by a sharp, layered smell , gunpowder and some eye-watering spice. Fred and George were hunched over an enormous cauldron, sleeves rolled, faces streaked black, working like their lives depended on it. They looked less like people and more like two goblins who'd recently lost a fight with a chimney.
"Half an ounce more salamander blood — now!"
"George, hold the temperature! Do not let it blow!"
The liquid in the cauldron burped up eerie green bubbles with a wet, persistent hiss.
"What are you brewing?"
Douglas's voice hit like a dropped tray. Both twins spun around.
"Professor!" Fred swiped the sweat off his face and managed to smear a fresh streak of black across his forehead. "You're back just in time!"
"We're testing a new formula!" George stabbed a finger at the cauldron. "Based on your flashbang principle — but improved!"
"We added Swelling Solution and dye," Fred jumped in, nearly vibrating.
"We're calling it the Nightmare."
George reached over and lifted a finished prototype with visible pride. A metal ball, roughly fist-sized, surface etched with dense magical runes.
"Once it detonates, it doesn't just produce a blinding flash." He held it up to the light. "It also sprays a massive quantity of indelible, bright pink viscous liquid. Completely unremovable."
"Picture it, Professor." Fred threw his arms wide, a man painting a vision.
"Those insufferable dark wizards. Absolutely caked in shocking pink. Helpless and fully visible under the flash." He grinned. "More effective than a Body-Bind Curse , and they'll be the laughingstock of the entire wizarding world."
Douglas studied the metal ball.
An image surfaced, unbidden: Lucius Malfoy, dripping pink from head to toe.
He had to admit. It was very, very Weasley.
"Good work," he said, giving an approving nod. "But what's the cost? You can't expect the Ministry to order crates of something that runs pricier than dragon eggs."
Fred and George looked at each other.
The smiles that spread across their soot-covered faces could only be described as triumphant.
"That," George said, "is our greatest breakthrough yet, Professor."
➤ Next: Bringing Electricity into Magic! The Twins Are About to Start Hogwarts' Indus...
───── ⊹ ⊹ ─────
📖 Main story COMPLETED + Bonus Stories ongoing on Patre\on
🔍 Search:p a t r e o n.com/GoldenLong
───── ⊹ ⊹ ─────