More than ten?
Kingsley lowered his voice. "You have to hand it to werewolves. Even under the Ministry's nose, they managed to gather in such numbers."
Harry shot him a curious glance. "Since when has the Ministry ever cared about werewolves?"
Kingsley opened his mouth but, after thinking for a moment, couldn't find a way to refute him.
"The Ministry is different now," he said, clenching his fist. "Mr. Thicknesse is a man of action."
"Let's hope so," Harry said, waving his wand.
A surge of magic twisted the air as he conjured a few simple traps at the entrance of the den.
"How do we lure them out?" Kingsley leaned forward. "Should I go in?"
"No need for that." Harry shook his head.
He pulled out a firework and directed it to float toward the entrance of the den. When it was almost out of sight, there was a sharp hiss—the fuse ignited.
A moment later, there was a muffled bang from inside the den.
Thick golden-red smoke billowed out, rolling through the entrance.
"What is that?" Kingsley's eyes lit up in surprise.
With years of Auror experience, he could immediately tell how useful this thing was.
Even with the right spells, most Aurors struggled to produce a smoke screen of this caliber.
"One of George and Fred's inventions," Harry said, pulling another out of his hat and tossing it to him. "They say it's a party accessory. Or a prank item."
"See the cap on top?"
Kingsley examined the round, potato-like device in his hand. It had a colorful label with exaggerated cartoon versions of Fred and George grinning, both holding up a silver griffin statue. They had originally wanted to add Harry to the design, but he hadn't agreed.
At the very top was a small silver cap.
Kingsley nodded.
"The cap can be opened," Harry explained, keeping his eyes on the den. "You can put small things inside—like pepper powder, chili powder, whatever you want."
"It's simple to use."
"Just light the fuse on the tail. You'll have four seconds before it activates."
Kingsley was about to ask more questions—
"They're coming!" Harry said quickly.
From inside the den, a shadow shot out, stepping right onto a trap. With a whoosh, vines snapped around its legs, hoisting the figure into the air, leaving them dangling like dried meat at the entrance.
"Blasting Curse!"
Almost instantly, another werewolf drew a wand and cast a spell toward the outside.
Others followed up with Barrier Charms and Transfiguration Spells.
They aggressively destroyed the remaining traps outside the den while carefully testing the area, moving in an organized, coordinated manner.
"That's… impressive," Harry commented.
Kingsley nodded. "Most of them never received formal education. The fact that they even have wands and learned these spells is remarkable. I should report this to Scrimgeour—"
"I meant," Harry interrupted, "their discipline is better than most Aurors I've seen."
Kingsley was momentarily stunned. He took a deep breath but had no way to argue.
"Werewolves without skill don't survive," Sirius chimed in, trying to see what Harry was observing but unable to make out anything. "Remus told me—good or bad, the ones that survive are always cunning and powerful."
"Should we take them down now?" Kingsley was eager to prove the Aurors' strength.
"Not yet. Let's count them first," Harry said, shaking his head.
"You can see them?" Kingsley strained his eyes, but the woods were pitch black. Like Sirius, he could hear faint movements, but he couldn't see a thing.
"Sixteen… seventeen…" Harry counted. "My eyesight's just a bit better than average."
Kingsley tried again.
Nothing. The moonlight wasn't enough to give him a clear view.
He turned to look at Harry, who was watching intently.
This talent—he was born to be an Auror!
"Stop looking at me like that," Harry said, turning back to him, making Kingsley jolt in surprise.
The bald Auror was about to retort—
But Harry didn't give him the chance. "Nineteen werewolves in total. We should be glad it's not twenty."
"Greyback is here too."
"I'll handle him. Don't injure him—he needs to be taken alive."
"Be careful," he warned the others.
They all nodded.
Harry stood and gestured forward. "They're about a hundred yards away. We don't have to worry about them spotting us just yet."
A hundred yards?
Kingsley's expression grew even more astonished.
That was about the same as a person's daytime vision range. Yet Harry could see that far at night, under only moonlight?
Outside the Den
"Boss, we found it—this thing," a short wizard crawled out of the den, holding a shattered, round object.
Greyback took it and examined it closely.
He had never seen anything like it.
It didn't look threatening—just colorful, with two big grinning faces and a long string of words:
"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
"We… Weasley… brothers… joke… shop," Greyback sounded out the words slowly. Werewolves' literacy skills were often worse than wizards'. "Any of you know what this is?"
The werewolves exchanged uncertain glances.
One of them hesitated. "I—I think I've heard of it. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is like Zonko's Joke Shop. It sells prank toys."
"Some childish wizard nonsense?" Greyback sneered and was about to toss it aside. "Probably something a Hogwarts brat dropped. This is good news—I haven't had a taste of a little wizard in a long time."
"Weasleys are Harry Potter's friends!" a werewolf suddenly blurted.
"Friends?" Greyback froze. His expression twisted in alarm. He suddenly turned toward Hogsmeade, scanning the area. "Harry Potter? You're already here?"
The werewolves with wands started firing spells randomly.
Greyback lifted his own wand high, his head snapping left and right, tense and alert.
His words may have sounded uncertain—
But he was sure of his guess.
In the forest, the group led by Harry stopped in their tracks, stunned.
Sirius stared at Kingsley suspiciously.
The bald Auror raised his hands innocently.
Harry considered for a moment. After casting a protective Quen's Seal on himself, he stepped out from behind Kingsley. "You didn't see me, yet you're certain I'm here. Why?"
Greyback jumped in shock, whirling around. "Eyes like a lion… It really is you, Harry Potter!"
"Why are you so sure I'd come?" Harry frowned.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Greyback grinned wickedly. "All your thoughts—our great godson already predicted them."
"Godson?" Harry arched an eyebrow, raising his wand. "Werewolves have a shared godson? Can he see the future?"
"Of course not!" Greyback snapped instinctively.
But then he quickly realized his mistake, shaking his head. "The godson told me not to reveal his identity."
"He also warned me not to talk to you too much."
"Potter, just give up!"
He took a deep breath.
Lifting his wand toward the moon, he cast a spell. Instantly, a false full moon appeared in the sky.
The werewolves howled, their voices sharp and chilling. Their bodies expanded, fur sprouting wildly.
Even without a real full moon, they were transforming.
Harry immediately raised his wand.
"Reducto!"
His spell shattered the false moon, dispersing its magic.
But it was too late. They had already transformed—more violent than they would be under a real full moon.
"Good thing Remus isn't here," Sirius muttered. "Otherwise, we'd be fighting twenty werewolves right now."
"Do your best," Harry commanded.
He waved his wand, causing the nearby trees to warp, stretching into a fence that separated the werewolves—ensuring each of them only had to face one opponent at a time.
Kingsley hesitated. "They each get one? Won't that be too dangerous?"
"They're as good as any Auror," Harry said, drawing his Serpentbone Sword.
He moved with a flick of his foot, his blade dancing.
With a shlick—
A werewolf's head rolled to the ground. The scent of blood only made the remaining ones more frenzied.
Greyback snarled, pacing inside the fence, still retaining some intelligence. He hadn't attacked yet—he was giving orders.
Just then—
A silver owl swooped down, landing on Kingsley's shoulder.
Tonks gasped. "That's Scrimgeour's Patronus! He found out we snuck out?!"
The owl hooted softly in Kingsley's ear.
His expression changed drastically.
Powerstones?
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