Harry's condition wasn't too bad. Without Augustus's intervention, a fall from 50 feet would have left him either dead or severely injured. Of course, as long as he was still breathing, Madam Pomfrey might have been able to fully heal him—but the process would surely have been far from humane.
The aftermath of this incident was complicated. For Augustus's sake, Dumbledore personally stepped in to negotiate with the Ministry of Magic. After all, nearly half of the Dementors, Azkaban's loyal guardians, had been obliterated. Under normal circumstances—though such a scenario seemed unlikely—even the most skilled Aurors in the Ministry couldn't have eliminated so many Dementors so swiftly. Beyond the school and society's reaction to such a powerful display of magic, Cornelius Fudge quickly adopted a conciliatory stance upon learning that Augustus was responsible for the incident. With Dumbledore offering him a graceful way to resolve the matter, Fudge readily agreed to sweep it under the rug. Remarkably, none of the Ministry's officials raised objections, behaving as though the destroyed Dementors were nothing more than stray cats or dogs. Dumbledore couldn't help but marvel at the influence of the pure-blood families. Lawmakers who typically made a fuss over the smallest issues were surprisingly accommodating this time around.
On Monday, Harry returned from the hospital wing, and Malfoy had already removed the bandages from his arm. For Malfoy, Gryffindor's defeat was a cause for celebration—perhaps even more thrilling than the idea of becoming Minister of Magic someday. In Potions class, Malfoy gleefully mimicked Dementors in exaggerated ways. Ron, losing his temper, hurled a large, slimy crocodile heart directly at Malfoy's face. It hit its mark, prompting Snape to deduct fifty points from Gryffindor in retaliation.
"Even though Snape is our Head of House, I really wish Professor Lupin would return soon. Objectively speaking, Lupin's classes are by far the most interesting at Hogwarts," sighed Lilian as she walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts with Augustus and Malfoy, her tone full of longing.
"You traitor! I can't believe you're so easily swayed by that hypocritical fraud. Women truly are the most unreliable creatures!" Malfoy snapped, waving his hands angrily.
"Oh? Now it's a matter of class conflict, is it? Honestly, I think you're just jealous of Professor Lupin's intelligence and talent. With your shallow knowledge, standing next to someone genuinely accomplished only highlights your mediocrity. Jealousy, after all, is humanity's greatest flaw," Lilian retorted with a disdainful smirk, as if she'd long since seen through him.
"Ha! Jealous of Lupin? That pauper who can't even afford a decent robe? Laughable! If he's so capable, why is he in such a pathetic state? Economic strength defines one's position. A truly capable man wouldn't be so destitute. Ridiculous," Malfoy shot back sharply, his tone dripping with contempt.
"You're only boasting because of your privileged background. Without the Malfoy name, where would your confidence come from? You're just a parasite living off your family!" Lilian snapped, her patience finally wearing thin.
Unexpectedly, Malfoy didn't argue further, and Lilian, realizing her words might have been too harsh, chose not to press the issue.
When the three entered the classroom, they found that Professor Lupin had returned.
He did look like he had been ill. His old robes hung loosely on his thin frame, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Still, when the class settled into their seats, he smiled at them, and they immediately launched into complaints about Snape's behavior during his absence.
"It's not fair! He was only substituting—why did he give us homework?"
"We didn't even know what a werewolf was!"
"Two rolls of parchment!"
"Didn't you tell Professor Snape that we hadn't covered that topic yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.
The students erupted again:
"We did! But he said we were behind—"
"...and didn't listen..."
"...two rolls of parchment!"
Their indignation was palpable. Augustus glanced meaningfully at Lupin. Assigning an essay on werewolves without prior instruction was a deliberate move on Snape's part. Anyone with half a brain could see the implications. What was surprising, however, was the level of trust Dumbledore placed in Lupin. Perhaps there was more to their relationship than met the eye.
Lupin smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I'll speak with Professor Snape. You won't need to write that essay."
"Oh no," Hermione groaned, looking disappointed. "I already finished mine."
"Actually, I do have a question about that essay," Lilian chimed in. "If werewolves lose control during a full moon, how is it that most of them can still coexist peacefully? If they all lost their reason, wouldn't they have destroyed each other long ago?"
"Exactly. If the full moon triggers their frenzy, they must have found a way to maintain some semblance of control," Hermione added, looking at Lupin expectantly.
Augustus noticed a fleeting trace of discomfort on Lupin's face. Nodding, he interjected, "Hermione makes a good point. While the full moon does cause werewolves to lose their reason, there are methods to help them retain their humanity during that time. For example, with the right potion, a werewolf can remain as rational as usual, even if they still transform. And if a way to prevent the transformation entirely were discovered, it might offer a path to redemption for those seeking a normal life."
A shadow of pain flickered across Lupin's face but disappeared just as quickly.
"All right, let's leave the topic of werewolves here. Now, let's continue with the lesson," Lupin said, shifting the focus.
The lesson proved to be enjoyable. Lupin brought a glass tank containing a hinkypunk—a one-legged creature that looked like wisps of smoke, delicate and seemingly harmless.
"They lure travelers into bogs," Lupin explained as the students took notes. "Notice the lantern dangling from its arm? It leaps ahead, leading people towards its light... and then..."
The hinkypunk banged against the glass, making a grating, eerie sound.
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