It didn't look or smell like a proper potion.
"It smells like one of those brews used to excite wild beasts," Tonks muttered quietly. "What are they trying to do?"
Lupin shook his head. "You should go back and inform Harry."
Tonks nodded obediently. She wasn't some brainless beauty—neither of those words applied to her. Though she wouldn't have minded being the former, Metamorphmagi could alter their looks, but in the end, it was still magic, and she couldn't quite cross that mental threshold.
She hunched low, slipping away through gaps in the crowd.
Less than ten minutes later, she returned.
"Tonks?" Lupin lowered his voice. "What happened?"
"We've been locked in—Shadowlock," Tonks shook her head.
Lupin frowned, raising his eyes and scanning past a couple of heads counter-clockwise.
Tonks tugged his arm. "Don't bother—the caster isn't here."
"I tried dispelling it. The caster's skill is high—I couldn't break it. It's been in place for a long time—at least six months."
Lupin's frown deepened.
"I didn't want to stay," Tonks continued, "but clearly, I shouldn't leave right now."
"Why?" Lupin asked.
Tonks answered with conviction, "I'm an Auror, and you're a civilian. Even if we're comrades in the Order of the Phoenix, protecting civilians is what Aurors are supposed to do, isn't it?"
"I wish all Aurors thought like you," Lupin said with a smile, then warned, "But Tonks, this is dangerous."
Tonks said nothing—she raised her wand and cast the Disillusionment Charm.
Her body faded like it had been erased by a rubber, gradually vanishing from view.
"I can stay like this," Tonks said softly. "If they can't see me, I'll be fine."
Lupin tilted his head away, his expression odd. "Tonks, don't talk right into my ear."
"I was trying to keep the sound down," Tonks replied softly. Under the Disillusionment Charm, her actions were invisible—only Lupin's sharply tilted head was visible.
Just then—
The moon rose. The sky was clear tonight, not a cloud in sight. The full moon climbed boldly into the heavens.
The instant its light touched the ground—
The werewolves began to change.
Their torsos, limbs, and faces twisted grotesquely, transforming in a blink into full beast forms.
Lupin didn't change. He had taken the potion crafted by Harry and Snape, delaying his transformation by over an hour.
Beast instincts began eroding reason.
The potion on the platform flared up exactly as expected. It wasn't a cure for lycanthropy. Under moonlight, the flames grew even more sinister, emitting a strange, heady aroma.
Once transformed, the potion took effect. The werewolves were influenced.
Their eyes reddened. Sniffing the air, they charged toward Lupin—who hadn't changed—and Tonks, hidden under the Disillusionment Charm.
Lupin acted fast, casting a scent-blocking charm.
Tonks added another Disillusionment Charm on him.
The werewolves pounced—only to find nothing. In their vision, the space was utterly empty. Instinctively, they grew repulsed by the spot, and backed away.
Snarling, they turned on the nearest werewolves, unleashing guttural howls, then pounced, claws slashing and jaws snapping.
"Werewolves—other than you—are always like this when they transform?" Tonks asked, her face pale.
Lupin shook his head. "No."
"While it's true they lose their minds after transforming, they can still recognize their own kind."
He hadn't transformed alongside others before, but he'd heard it many times—werewolves didn't attack each other during a full moon. Wolves are pack animals, after all.
"So it's the potion?" Tonks raised her wand.
Whoosh!
A pebble shot out and smashed the potion bottle, glass and liquid scattering. The flame, surprisingly, kept burning—now stronger without the bottle's containment.
Aguamenti!
Tonks cast a water spell.
A stream surged forward, weaving through fighting werewolves, dousing the potion. With a hiss, a puff of milky-white steam rose, and the fire was extinguished. Apart from its color, the flame seemed no different from normal fire.
However—
The potion's effects persisted.
The werewolves kept tearing each other apart—vicious, brutal, unchanged.
"So the Death Eaters' plan was to get the werewolves to kill each other?" Tonks tilted her head. The sounds of carnage were awful, but with Lupin nearby, she wasn't as frightened. "But why tell Harry?"
"Harry suspected it was bait—to lure him and Dumbledore away from Hogwarts," Lupin replied quietly.
Tonks gave a light chuckle and was about to say more—
"Oh no—HELP!"
A desperate, terrified scream rang out.
Flashes of barrier spells lit the air.
Both Lupin and Tonks froze. They turned, trying to find each other's gaze—but under the Disillusionment Charm, that was impossible.
"There are others here besides us," Tonks said urgently. "We need to check it out."
"Of course," Lupin responded.
He paused briefly. "Grab my sleeve."
Tonks reached out and groped a bit before grabbing his hand.
"I said sleeve," Lupin muttered, correcting her.
Grudgingly, Tonks slid her grip to a corner of his sleeve.
Together, they rushed toward the scream.
The voice belonged to a man in his forties. He was casting barrier and transfiguration spells in alternating bursts, fending off two charging werewolves—he'd gotten lucky. Maybe because he'd been hiding in a corner the whole time, only two had come for him.
He was barely holding on.
But—
His spells were visibly weakening.
Any moment now, a claw might break through his defense.
"Protego Maxima!" Tonks didn't hesitate, flicking her wand.
Her spell struck with more power than the man's own—knocking the werewolves back several steps.
Lupin raised his wand, silent.
Casting spells without incantation while under a Disillusionment Charm wasn't very useful in high-level duels—most wizards could still detect magical energy or counter Disillusionment—but against these mindless, half-crazed werewolves, it was perfect.
The werewolves didn't even understand that magic had come from thin air.
The two that were attacking the man were instantly bound in iron chains and hoisted into the air, flung into the midst of the pack.
Lupin added several cutting spells to one of them, just barely slicing a small gash in its hide.
The scent of blood inflamed the others further.
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Powerstones?
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