In the days that followed, Leonard took over the werewolf wizards' potion lab, brewing batch after batch of Wolfsbane Potion with the help of the Ancient Sprout.
At the same time, he taught a group of young werewolf wizards how to brew it themselves.
Though he hadn't even enrolled in school yet, Leonard felt no unease about teaching others. On the contrary, he thought he made a rather good teacher.
Inside the potions room, all four brewing stations were busy at work. Every so often, a finished batch of Wolfsbane Potion was set aside, then carried out by Marcus, who stood waiting nearby.
These potions would all be distributed to the werewolves who needed them.
Since Wolfsbane Potion couldn't be stored for long, the warehouse held only ingredients, not finished potions.
The werewolf youths at work were half a head taller than Leonard. Averaging fifteen or sixteen years of age, they had been barred from all Wizarding Schools because of their condition. With nowhere else to go, they had wasted away their youth in Knockturn Alley.
But their blood still ran hot. Society hadn't yet worn them down, and they still longed to change their fate. So when they heard Midgard was offering both jobs and the chance to learn, they joined eagerly and quickly became her trusted followers.
Youngsters like these were the easiest to guide. A lofty slogan and a few real benefits were enough to make them willing to go through fire for her.
They were a perfect match for Midgard. She disliked overcomplicating things, genuinely wanted to improve the lives of werewolf wizards, and lived by what she preached. That alone was enough to inspire the youths' loyalty.
Along with that came their respect for Leonard. They admired his knowledge and his willingness to help. Compared to Damocles, who was far too strict while brewing, Leonard was Midgard's true friend—he even brewed Wolfsbane Potions for them without asking for payment.
More importantly, Leonard's lessons were more attentive and practical than Damocles's ever were.
In just three days, three of the young werewolves had managed to brew Wolfsbane Potion on their own. Their movements were still clumsy, the quality not great, and failure still a risk, but for most werewolves, it was more than enough.
With their help, Leonard's workload was no longer so heavy.
"Mr. William, here are the materials you asked for." A werewolf youth handed him the prepared aconite.
"Thank you." Leonard nodded, adding the aconite to the cauldron at just the right moment. "Now, Robert, watch carefully. This is when you lower the flame a little and add the ingredient."
Most of the youths had already picked up the brewing method while watching Leonard work. Only Robert, an honest but slow lad, had missed much of it because he was always busy carrying supplies. He still needed Leonard to guide him step by step.
If Leonard hadn't kept him close, Robert would have run off to haul Wolfsbane again.
"Alright." As Leonard's student and assistant, Robert forced himself to focus on the cauldron instead of the potions waiting to be moved.
Before long, Leonard finished another batch. The liquid inside shimmered like red wine. Leonard gave a satisfied nod, then looked at Robert. "Got it memorized?"
Robert nodded. "I've got it."
"Then bottle this one. Next, brew a batch yourself." Leonard handed the station over to Robert, then left the potions room. Pulling up his hood, he stepped into the room next door.
Inside, Midgard was sitting idly in a chair, watching an unfamiliar wizard keep records of the Wolfsbane Potions.
Most werewolf wizards were illiterate. With no school willing to take them, and no chance to attend Muggle ones either, they could speak but struggled with reading, writing, and numbers.
So this man tallying potions—was he just a regular wizard hired by Midgard, or was he a rare exception among werewolves, one who could actually read and write?
If it was the former, there was no issue. If it was the latter, caution was needed.
Leonard frowned. He glanced at Midgard, motioned toward the door, then left without a word.
Midgard nodded slightly to the wizard. "Carry on. I'll be back shortly."
"Yes, Madam Greyback." The wizard nodded, watching her leave.
Who was that boy just now? He looked like he had something to say to Midgard, but fell silent when he saw me. The wizard pondered it briefly, then shook his head and returned to work.
This job hadn't come easy—good pay and Wolfsbane Potions included. He couldn't afford to lose it by being careless.
Leonard and Midgard moved into another room, a more secluded space where no one could enter without her permission.
"Was that man a werewolf wizard?" Leonard asked.
"That's all you want to know?" Midgard replied carelessly. "Yeah, a werewolf wizard. A good sort, really. Bit pitiful too—he only became a werewolf because of my brother."
"What's his name?" Leonard pressed.
"His surname's Lupin… what was the first name again?" Midgard thought for a moment. "Remus, I think."
Remus Lupin. So it really was him.
Leonard nodded, letting out a quiet breath of relief.
That hidden piece on the board had finally shown itself. Lurkers in the shadows were always unnerving, but once they stepped into the open, they became far less dangerous.
"I've heard of him," Leonard said. "He was a close friend of Harry Potter's father. Graduated from Hogwarts. A decent fellow, useful even. But be cautious—he's probably Dumbledore's man. Don't let him near anything too secret."
"Secrets? Do we even have any secrets?" Midgard asked in confusion.
Leonard groaned, clutching his forehead. "What do you think we're doing, robbing banks or something?"
"Well… fair enough. But I wasn't planning on telling anyone anyway." Midgard shrugged.
"I'm talking about our plans for growth, our ambitions. Those must never be revealed to him," Leonard said firmly. "You can make use of him—among the mostly illiterate werewolf wizards, he's valuable. But don't ever treat him as a confidant. Your charisma doesn't come close to Dumbledore's."
"Ugh, I hate to admit it, but you're damn right," Midgard nodded. "That's Dumbledore we're talking about. How could I possibly compare?"
She didn't ask how Leonard knew so much about Lupin. To her, Leonard was impressive enough that knowing such hidden things seemed natural.
Just like how he had known Quirrell would attempt to rob Gringotts.
Leonard sighed inwardly, already feeling drained.
When he'd first met Midgard, she had struck him as generous and kind—an oddity in Knockturn Alley.
Now, that "oddity" seemed even stranger. She wasn't stupid, but she wasn't exactly clever either.
No, Midgard wasn't a fool. If she were, she never would have survived this long in Knockturn Alley, let alone built a following. Fools didn't last there.
But she had a sort of laziness to her, as if the moment someone else thought something through, she no longer felt the need to think at all.
That kind of temperament wasn't ideal for a leader; it left her at risk of being sidelined by her own people. Fortunately, she had Marcus, a fiercely loyal right hand, and later had run into Leonard.
Without him, she'd probably have been devoured by Fenrir already. In the original course of things, as a key supporting character in Harry Potter, he would have rallied the werewolves and thrown in with Voldemort without question.
But now, that wasn't going to happen. Instead, the not-so-clever Midgard had become the leader of the werewolf wizards.
As her companion, Leonard felt both exhausted and relieved. Exhausted, because talking with her was a chore. Relieved, because someone like her wouldn't overcomplicate matters, would follow instructions, and wouldn't ruin everything with her own schemes.
If not for that, Leonard would never have partnered with Midgard. At most, he'd have treated her as a kind-hearted helper, maybe offered a little repayment, or just used her as a source of rare magical plants.
But now, Leonard was firmly aboard the werewolf wizards' ship.
"How's Damocles coming along?" After dealing with the surprise of Lupin, Leonard turned back to business. "There are only two days left before it's time to take the Wolfsbane Potion. Has his modification made any progress?"
Lupin could wait. Right now, the improved Wolfsbane Potion was what truly mattered.
Werewolves had to take it a week before the full moon. During that week, they remained weakened, then carried their sanity with them through the transformation on the night itself.
"No idea. That guy's like he's possessed—muttering nonsense all day that no one can make sense of." Midgard shrugged. "I haven't bothered with him these past few days, just had the wolf cubs bring him food and water. Lately he's even been relieving himself in the potions room. It's revolting."
"Haha, what's there to worry about? He's not about to use that as ingredients, is he?" Leonard laughed.
Midgard pulled a face like she'd swallowed something bitter. "Ugh, stop. You're making me sick."
"Alright, enough. Let's go take a look and check on his progress," Leonard said.
The two left the potions lab and headed for Damocles's private laboratory.
It was really just another potions room, only hidden deeper underground.
When Leonard and Midgard entered, the stench inside nearly knocked them over. The smell was overwhelming.
Damocles, however, didn't seem to notice. His expression was serious, his gaze fixed on the boiling cauldron before him.
Seeing this, Leonard and Midgard exchanged a glance, surprise flashing in their eyes.
Could it be… he'd actually done it?
They held their breath, watching Damocles's every movement, careful not to disturb him.
Damocles worked with focused precision, adding ingredient after ingredient into the cauldron as he thought through each step.
Compared to ordinary Wolfsbane, this potion required more ingredients, more steps, and far greater care. Watching Damocles work with both hands—adding water, adjusting the heat—Leonard felt overwhelmed himself, and Midgard even more so.
At last, when the final ingredient went in, Damocles began to stir at an even pace until everything dissolved into a shimmering silver liquid.
"It's done!" Damocles shouted, elation in his voice. "I've finally figured out how to handle the properties of the Aconite Fruit!"
Seeing him so excited, Midgard couldn't contain herself. "Mr. Belby, you've succeeded?"
Startled, Damocles finally noticed the two intruders in his lab. "Oh, it's you." He let out a breath. "In theory, since this potion brewed correctly, it should be finished. But without testing, I can't be certain."
"It still needs testing?" Leonard tapped his forehead, realizing he'd been too hasty.
Of course it did. If Damocles had claimed with absolute certainty that the potion was a perfected Wolfsbane right away, Leonard would have suspected him of plotting something.
But needing tests meant one thing: Leonard's plan to explore the mysterious symbol and the door beyond it before term started would have to wait.
Did that really mean postponing it until after Christmas, like Midgard suggested?
Leonard felt a stab of frustration, though he didn't let it show.
Still, Midgard clearly noticed his silence. Even with Leonard's hood hiding his face, she picked up on it immediately.
"Leave the testing to me," Midgard said. "The day after tomorrow, I'll drink this potion myself. On the night of the full moon, chain me up."
"No. We don't yet know how toxic it might be," Leonard objected instinctively.
Midgard placed her large hand on Leonard's head and ruffled his hair with a grin. "Relax. Werewolves aren't that fragile."
Then she leaned closer, whispering in his ear: "If this potion really works, and it isn't me who drinks it… would you honestly trust some werewolf you don't even know to go adventuring with you?"
"Exploring that place is my business. Going early was my own selfish choice. You shouldn't risk your life because of it," Leonard muttered.
"Ha! Didn't you risk your life for me? Facing Fenrir, charging into Gringotts—you stood with me through it all."
Midgard straightened up and declared loudly, "I'm not the kind of person who only takes. It's my turn to take a risk for you!"
Looking at her cheerful smile, Leonard let out a long sigh.
"Alright. Since that's your choice."
...
Two days later, at the werewolf wizards' original stronghold—the house with the courtyard.
Leonard, Marcus, and Midgard sat in the courtyard, staring like sentries at the silver vial of potion placed between them.
The Wolfsbane Potion distribution was complete. Every werewolf in Knockturn Alley had received their own vial.
Now they were living in groups of three, clustered around this courtyard.
It was Leonard's idea. Even though no one in their right mind would provoke werewolves during the full moon—Wolfsbane or not—the days leading up to it were a period of weakness.
To guard against anyone taking reckless chances, they stationed themselves in trios, each group close enough to help the others if danger struck.
Even during this vulnerable time, werewolf wizards patrolled the area. Midgard had purchased all the surrounding houses, making the territory theirs. Any wizard who tried to approach would be warned off.
In theory, the center of werewolf territory should have been the safest place of all. Yet Marcus was tense, his nerves stretched tight.
Because their leader was about to test the potion on herself.
Marcus had wanted desperately to take her place, but Midgard had refused outright.
"If something happens after I drink this, Marcus, you'll follow Leonard's lead. Do you understand?"
Just before lifting the vial, Midgard looked Marcus straight in the eye. "I mean in everything, you hear me? From that moment, he'll be your leader."
How could an ordinary wizard possibly lead werewolf wizards? Even if Leonard agreed, the others would never accept it.
Marcus felt he could only answer for himself. He trusted Leonard's character, but most of the werewolves didn't even know what Leonard looked like.
Coming from Midgard, such unreasonable words didn't surprise Marcus at all. He was sure the sharp-minded Leonard knew it was nonsense too. Neither of them said it aloud.
They simply chalked it up to Midgard's rambling before drinking the potion.
But just before she raised it, Leonard turned to Marcus.
"Keep a close eye on Damocles Belby," Leonard said firmly. "Whether Midgard shows side effects or not, you must watch him closely. Give him anything he asks for—but do not, under any circumstances, let him leave our territory."
Marcus nodded. He didn't need Leonard to explain further. If anything happened to their leader, he'd take Damocles's head without hesitation.