"The Wizengamot has passed its resolution—approval has been granted for the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee!"
Inside the spacious yet overcrowded warehouse, a makeshift platform built from stacked wooden crates stood at the center. Upon it, Little Barnard and James Brown read aloud from the newspaper.
Old men, women, children—even strong adults who had come to help—hundreds of people packed the warehouse so tightly that there was barely room to breathe. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the platform.
James poked at the photograph on the front page with his wand, trying to make the image move so the werewolves could see it more clearly.
Unfortunately, his mediocre spellwork was nowhere near good enough.
In the end, Remus Lupin couldn't stand it any longer. He stepped forward and quietly cast a spell, reinvigorating the developing potion within the newspaper.
At last, the image moved.
The werewolves saw a solemn, majestic hall occupying the most prominent space on the front page. Beneath the relentless flash of magnesium lights, a stern-looking witch announced something to the crowd.
Then she stepped aside and welcomed a familiar figure to the central podium.
The moment he appeared, the flashes intensified like lightning.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"That's Mr Weasley."
"He looks so dignified!"
"Hasn't Mr Weasley grown taller…?"
Standing among them, listening to the affectionate and pride-filled murmurs around him, Lupin's expression grew complicated.
In the span of just two months, he had nearly watched with his own eyes as Vaughn's standing among the werewolves rose—from mild goodwill, to respect, and finally to deep trust and intimacy.
And this was despite the fact that Vaughn rarely visited them.
This was precisely the outcome Lupin had feared from the beginning.
Yet the longer he lived alongside these wandering werewolves, the more powerless he felt to stop it.
All he could do was watch as their feelings toward Vaughn steadily approached something dangerously close to fanaticism and worship.
Lost in thought, Lupin barely noticed when Little Barnard resumed reading from the paper:
"Yesterday, on February 20th, 1992—under the full moon hanging high in the sky (note: the full moon occurs mid-month in the lunar calendar, though not necessarily by the Gregorian calendar)—a moment that usually fills us with dread over potential werewolf attacks, the Wizengamot Grand Chamber at the Ministry of Magic made a decision of historic significance."
"From the moment Amelia Bones declared the Wizengamot vote valid, the Werewolf Affairs Committee—an institution proposed by Vaughn Weasley, aimed at aiding wandering werewolves and curbing the spread of lycanthropy—has received Wizengamot approval and will be formally established in England!"
Cheers erupted instantly.
Every face lit up with joy as people embraced those beside them in excitement.
Lupin included.
After the initial celebration died down, the crowd fell silent once more as Little Barnard continued:
"The establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee is expected to have far-reaching consequences for the entire magical world. It is the first legally recognized institution worldwide primarily serving a non-wizard community…"
"According to further disclosures from the Wizengamot, the committee's primary mission is to register all wandering werewolves residing in England, cooperate with Ministries of Magic worldwide to address the international werewolf issue, and combat dark forces such as Fenrir Greyback…"
"In his closing speech, Mr Vaughn Weasley outlined the committee's organizational structure. The Werewolf Affairs Committee will consist of one Chairperson, four Vice-Chairpersons, and twenty-seven Council Members."
"Of the twenty-seven council seats, fourteen are explicitly reserved for werewolves—returning the rights of werewolves to werewolves themselves. This principle lies at the very heart of the committee's founding!"
"Several unnamed pure-blood families within the wizarding world have expressed concern over this trend…"
The remaining content described reactions from across the magical world. There was no need to read further.
The words already spoken were enough to send morale soaring.
Committees.
Legal institutions.
Werewolf council seats.
These ideas alone were enough to stir every heart present.
Little Barnard tossed the newspaper aside and shouted from the platform,
"Everyone—take action! Spread this good news to our brothers and sisters working outside. Tonight, we celebrate here! And beyond that… there are matters we still need to discuss!"
The crowd quieted briefly before someone called out,
"Barnard—what matters?"
"Of course, the committee," Little Barnard replied loudly. "You all heard it—Mr Weasley secured fourteen seats for us. That's more than half of the council. This is the benefit he fought for, and we must safeguard it!"
Lupin's expression darkened.
He already knew what Little Barnard was about to say.
But surrounded by so many eager faces, his lips moved—and yet, in the end, he said nothing.
Little Barnard surveyed the uncertain crowd and shouted,
"You've also heard how wizards see us. We must ensure that those fourteen council members stand united—to oppose wizard prejudice and defend the interests of all werewolves!"
In any group, there are always sharp minds.
Before Little Barnard could finish, someone called out,
"Then elect you, James Brown, William White—your group followed Mr Weasley from the very start. We trust you!"
Another voice joined in,
"After the council is chosen, we'll need a Chairperson and Vice-Chairs, right? Then let Mr Weasley be the Chair! I trust only him—no one else!"
"That's right! When we were desperate, when we had nothing, he was the only one willing to reach out to us!"
Others voiced concern.
"What if Mr Weasley refuses? He's still a student—at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"That's why we'll help him!" someone retorted. "With council members we elect, it won't take much of his time. Michael, you're an adult—you should understand this. Wherever a person is, it's best to hold some power. We are Mr Weasley's power—his strongest support!"
"Yes! He offended the Minister of Magic for our sake. We can't let him stand alone as an ordinary student!"
"Do you remember what the newspapers once said? That werewolves could become an armed force? If it's for Mr Weasley, I don't mind becoming his weapon!"
The voices overlapped, growing louder and more fervent.
Lupin watched as the people around him—once familiar—became intense, almost unrecognizable.
This was exactly what he had tried to prevent.
And yet, it had still come to pass.
For now, it was still only discussion.
The most urgent task was to notify those working elsewhere so everyone could share in the joy.
The warehouse erupted into motion.
Everyone suddenly had something to do.
Everyone except Remus Lupin, who felt profoundly out of place.
Of course, he supported the Werewolf Affairs Committee. As a werewolf, he could never oppose an organization designed to protect his rights.
What unsettled him was the fervor.
And what it might mean for the committee's future.
By noon, more werewolves arrived during their breaks. Little Barnard, William, and James organized people to purchase supplies.
Lupin seized the chance to slip away.
In an empty alley, he pulled out a leather glove.
The moment it emerged, the glove floated into the air, swelling as though an invisible hand had slipped inside. It gestured several times—then pointed in a direction.
Lupin followed it through twisting alleyways.
After countless turns, he reached a dark, deserted dead end.
Crackle.
Space warped with a soft snapping sound.
With Fawkes perched on his shoulder and dressed in a pink sleeping robe, Albus Dumbledore appeared before him.
The old wizard's bright blue eyes curved kindly as he smiled—just like the crescent lenses of his spectacles.
"Remus, my dear—was last night's full moon manageable?"
Lupin bowed slightly.
"Good evening, Headmaster. Thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion, it was much better than before."
"I heard from Vaughn that the current Wolfsbane still carries side effects he hadn't fully anticipated?"
"Yes," Lupin nodded. "It keeps us lucid, but we must endure the pain of transformation—much like the first attempts at becoming an Animagus…"
His gaze drifted.
Memories surfaced unbidden—those long-ago days at Hogwarts, when even the cold, frightening moon seemed warm and golden like the last glow of sunset.
A werewolf.
A black dog.
A stag.
And a rat.
Such a strange group, roaming and racing through the Forbidden Forest, laughter lingering in the mist.
Dumbledore remembered it too.
He sighed softly.
"James's Animagus form was a stag, wasn't it? I heard he learned it solely to keep you company during your transformations… He was a fine friend—and a fine leader, Remus."
At the familiar name, pain stabbed Lupin's heart.
Yes. James had been both friend and leader—and the most brilliant wizard Lupin had ever known. He had not only mastered Animagus transformation himself, but helped two others do the same.
And yet—
He had died… betrayed by another close friend.
Lupin inhaled sharply and changed the subject.
"Headmaster—will you join the Werewolf Affairs Committee?"
"Why do you ask?" Dumbledore replied gently.
As he spoke, he cast a powerful charm that cloaked them both. Their figures faded, and he led Lupin out of the alley onto a Muggle street.
It was evening—the liveliest hour in Newhaven.
Gas lamps and neon lights illuminated old nineteenth-century buildings. Workers from nearby factories and docks strolled the streets, enjoying the rare calm after a long day.
Dumbledore observed the Muggles with genuine interest.
After a long pause, Lupin finally said,
"I don't believe you're unaware of Vaughn Weasley's influence among the werewolves. If you are, then let me tell you—today they were already clamoring to use their majority of council seats to push Vaughn Weasley into the position of Chair."
He recounted the morning's events.
A chubby child eating ice cream passed by, the sweet scent catching Dumbledore's attention. He kept glancing back, listening only half-heartedly.
"So?" Dumbledore asked.
Lupin snapped, frustration breaking through.
"So? Isn't that alarming enough? They're shouting that they're willing to become Vaughn Weasley's weapons! Are you really going to watch as the committee becomes his personal tool?"
"What would you have me do?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"Force my way in as a council member? Become his deputy at my age? Or rally the werewolves and compete with Vaughn for leadership?"
He shook his head.
"Remus, I can do none of those things. And as you yourself said—the werewolves trust no one but Vaughn. Unless I go back on my word and push the Wizengamot to abolish the committee entirely… Is that what you want?"
Lupin fell silent.
"That," Dumbledore continued gently, "is exactly why I cannot enter the committee. My presence would only intensify conflict."
As they spoke, they unknowingly returned to the warehouse district.
Usually bleak and quiet, it was now lively.
The gatekeeper stood dazed at the entrance—under a Confundus Charm that would make him diligent yet oblivious.
At the center of the district—
A massive bonfire burned.
Hundreds of people bustled about. Children darted between adults, shrieking with laughter.
It was loud—but peaceful.
Watching from afar, Lupin found himself at a loss for words.
Then Little Barnard's hoarse, excited shout rang out:
"Brothers and sisters—look who's come to see us!"
The crowd paused—then erupted.
A teenage boy had Apparated into their midst. People surrounded him, faces flushed, shouting, cheering.
Some even knelt, kissing the hem of his robes.
"Vaughn… Weasley…"
Lupin whispered the name.
Dumbledore watched silently as Vaughn raised his wand and cast Lumos.
Light bloomed.
The crowd fell instantly silent.
Only when people truly revere someone can such obedience be achieved—without training, without commands.
Just like him…
Dumbledore sighed softly, pulling himself from memory.
Everything was unfolding exactly as Vaughn had anticipated.
As the creator of the Wolfsbane Potion and the driving force behind the committee's creation, Vaughn was irreplaceable in the eyes of the werewolves—even if he rarely visited.
At least for the next few years, that would remain true.
Human hearts may change easily—but those who have endured hardship are often the slowest to do so.
These impoverished people craved stability. They wanted to protect the rights they had just gained.
And who could offer that protection?
The answer was obvious.
And as for Vaughn—having single-handedly brought the committee into existence—was he truly going to hand it over to someone else?
Of course not.
So when James contacted him via the Floo, nervously inviting him to the evening celebration, Vaughn accepted without hesitation.
Even though he disliked such noisy gatherings.
Standing among the werewolves, feeling their burning gratitude and trust, Vaughn felt no emotional stir.
From the very beginning, his motives for helping them had never been pure.
He saw it as a transaction.
He eased their suffering under the full moon; they became his support, strengthening his standing and reputation in the magical world.
A mutually beneficial deal.
Thus, at the bonfire feast, Vaughn ate only a little before leaving the revelry to the werewolves.
Only the earliest followers were summoned inside the warehouse, where he asked their opinions on serving as council members.
Little Barnard was unwavering.
"Sir, whatever you ask, I'll do!"
Then, blushing, he pulled a brand-new fountain pen from his pocket and offered it with both hands.
"I—I bought this with my first paycheck… Sir, I want to give it to you."
Vaughn froze.
He accepted it, momentarily speechless.
"You like it?" Barnard asked nervously.
"…Thank you, Barnard," Vaughn said at last. "I like it very much."
Seeing Barnard beam with pure joy at his approval, Vaughn felt oddly unsettled. For a moment, he even considered using Legilimency—to see whether the man had unknowingly been influenced by some white-bearded manipulator.
In the end, he restrained himself.
His gaze flicked toward a corner of the warehouse.
It appeared empty—but to Vaughn's enhanced vision, a massive, subtle magical presence coiled there.
Even he might have dismissed it as imagination, had it not been his own spell.
There—
Dumbledore and the newly arrived Lupin stood under invisibility.
"He noticed us…" Lupin murmured.
"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly. "From the moment he Apparated in, he sensed us."
"Is his magic really that strong?" Lupin asked.
The invisibility spell was Dumbledore's own—he had never believed anyone could pierce it.
Dumbledore adjusted his rabbit-eared nightcap.
"Vaughn is indeed strong. And changing every day—especially in spellwork."
With enchanted vision, he looked at the boy surrounded by werewolves. In his eyes, Vaughn shone like the sun.
Magic in the throes of adolescence surged like molten lava, driving his vitality into bloom.
Dumbledore, who had lived through that stage himself, knew that the coming years would be a period of explosive growth for Vaughn.
After a pause, he continued softly,
"Remus, your awareness of his ambition reassures me. But do not underestimate him—nor set yourself against him. And do not try to use me to restrain him."
"If I destroyed every ambitious child, I would never have brought you to Hogwarts… and there would have been no Voldemort."
"A professor's duty is to guide students—not to strangle threats in their cradles."
He smiled as he watched Vaughn pocket the pen.
"Love is everywhere. What a person becomes depends on their environment—and his environment, at present, is good. There's no need to change it."
"Join the committee, Remus. Fight for werewolves with peace of mind. Do not try to control what you cannot—sometimes, careful observation and gentle guidance are the wisest paths."
With that, Dumbledore winked playfully.
"Now go—your meeting awaits. After all, you were among Vaughn's earliest supporters."
Crack.
He vanished.
The invisibility charm collapsed, leaving Lupin exposed.
Before he could react, Vaughn waved to him.
"Remus! Where did you go just now? Come over—I'd like to hear your thoughts."
"…Alright."
Seeing that Vaughn showed no sign of suspicion—and even covered for him—Lupin finally understood.
Vaughn and Dumbledore had long since reached an understanding.
He walked numbly into the crowd.
Vaughn, meanwhile, listened to Barnard and the others, his thoughts drifting to the whisper Dumbledore had sent him before leaving:
"The plan is about to begin. Return to Hogwarts soon, Vaughn."
Yes.
With the Werewolf Affairs Committee now legally established, it was indeed time to return to school.
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