"Why— are we— running?" Marlene gasped.
As soon as she asked her question her foot caught on a gnarled root. She would have pitched forward, but Harry and Sturgis grabbed her elbows, keeping her upright as they all tore through the dark.
"Harry said to," Sturgis answered her question.
"Sure," Marlene said. "Wonderful. But I'm a witch, not a marathon runner. If I have to sprint, at least tell me why."
"Because we're in danger," Harry said, ducking a pine branch that crossed his path at head-height.
"He's right," Dawlish grunted. "Something's out there."
"But what is it?!" Marlene complained.
"Something dangerous," said Dawlish.
"Gah!" Marlene said, disgusted with the lack of answers.
Harry was pretty sure that Dawlish didn't know what was in these woods with them. The Auror had just been in the field long enough that he'd developed a sixth sense for danger. Harry worked with people who had been the same during his time in the force. In this case, he was just happy the grizzled Auror was doing the right thing, trying to help the group escape. Harry caught five distinct howls already, and it was possible there were many more than that. On a full moon like tonight, with company like that, this was one of the most dangerous places in all of Britain.
"Our camp isn't far!" Tonks said. "We can Apparate from there!"
"I see light!" said Sturgis.
It wasn't a fire or anything like that, just a brighter patch of forest. As the group sprinted toward it, they saw the edge of the tree line, a clearing beyond that.
"There it is!" Tonks said.
The group reached the last of the trees. Without warning, Harry stopped dead and grabbed Marlene and Sturgis, forcing them to stop with him. He pulled them out of sight behind the trees while Dawlish did the same to Tonks.
"Mmph!" Marlene said, Harry's hand still over her mouth.
Harry pressed a finger to his lips for quiet. He leaned out from behind cover, looking at the clearing as the others did the same. That was where they saw the first one.
The Aurors' enchanted tent was nothing but slashed scraps of canvas spread across the ground. The largest pieces were still clutched in the clawed fingers of a hunched beast. It was almost like a wolf and almost like a man, resulting in an abomination stuck between the two. It hobbled on two legs with a bent back, sniffing the tent scraps with its big black nose. Its awkwardness didn't fool Harry. He knew that the moment it dropped onto four legs, it would be as fast as any horse. The beast lowered its arms, stretching its neck back and letting out a horrible howl. This close, Marlene and Tonks were forced to cover their ears, while even Dawlish winced.
"Werewolf," Marlene whispered urgently. "That's a real, loose werewolf, isn't it?"
"We know where your friend went now," Dawlish grunted. "Either he's in that thing's stomach, or that thing is your friend."
"And the Anti-Apparition Jinx?" Harry asked.
The Auror wasn't familiar enough with dark creatures. He hadn't caught the slight differences in the howls they'd been hearing, and seemed to assume they were dealing with one werewolf. If Dawlish treated this like an out-of-control magical beast and not what it was — a deadly trap — he was going to get himself killed, and possibly the others along with him.
"It could be a leftover spell from when that thing was a wizard," Dawlish said. "Maybe he didn't want anyone Apparating on top of him when he transformed. Either way, a few well-aimed spells and that thing will be—"
"Look," Sturgis said urgently.
The werewolf's howl had ended, but its head was still raised. The nose that sniffed the canvas tent was twitching rapidly.
Its yellow eyes looked straight at them.
The werewolf howled again, this time while on all-fours as it sprinted toward them. It ate up ground at a frightening rate. Dawlish sent a blasting curse at the ground in front of it, sending up a column of soil.
"No!" Harry said.
Too late. The werewolf had never been alone, its pack members just weren't close enough to see. Three more appeared, running toward them from either direction, called by the first one's howl and Dawlish's spell.
"We need to run!" Harry said.
Sturgis had already bolted. Tonks did the same. Dawlish clearly wanted to fight, but knew he stood no chance. With a scowl, he joined Harry and Marlene running behind the others.
The wolves sped through the forest much faster than anything on two legs could ever run. While fleeing, Marlene twisted around, sending a bludgeoning curse hurtling through the forest. It seemed to hit one of the werewolves right on the forehead.
"Did I get it?" she said.
"Magic resistance!" Harry pulled her along. "Direct spells will barely phase them!"
"He's right!" Dawlish growled.
"Are you both sure? Because I'm pretty sure they aren't following us anymore."
Harry strained his ears, tuning out the sounds of foliage breaking underneath their steps. The forest had gone quiet. Deceptively quiet.
"Are they gone?" Sturgis asked, sounding desperately optimistic.
"They're not behind us anymore," Marlene said. "I can hear that much. I guess we scared them off. Now we just have to get out and Apparate away."
"Get out to where?" Tonks asked.
They all looked around and realized that as they escaped, they had been forced deeper into the woods again. There was no sign of the edge of the forest anymore. Thick trees were on all sides, their branches reaching out to pin them in.
"That wasn't an accident," Harry said. "They want a hunt."
Marlene laughed nervously. "You think those monsters actually came up with a strategy?"
Harry gave her what he realized later was the same look he gave students who talked in class. "Werewolves aren't missing intelligence when they transform. It's their empathy that they lose."
The howls returned, this time coming from the group's left. The sounds were far too close. Coming to a silent agreement, all five of them ran in the opposite direction, until more howls in front of them forced them to change directions again.
This continued, pushing them deeper into the woods, turning them in circles. Occasionally, a flash of fur would briefly be visible. Dawlish and Marlene's strongest spells were shrugged off like nothing. The only thing keeping this from turning bloody was that the werewolves seemed to enjoy making them flee.
This couldn't go on.
Harry remembered being taught in his old Muggle classes about how ancient humans used to hunt. They weren't the fastest, but they could run longer than any of their prey. They would keep chasing wounded animals until they collapsed, then finish their prey when they were helpless. This reminded him of that.
Marlene was gasping for air. Sturgis was a fit guy, but even he was turning sweaty. Perhaps the wolves were actually being pragmatic. They knew there was a chance that this many adult wizards would take down part of the pack, and none of them wanted to be a casualty. So they were going to keep the wizards running until they were all too exhausted to put up a fight.
That, or they were chasing Harry's group somewhere specific. He hadn't seen any wolf yet that looked like it could be the leader of this pack.
Harry's eyes flickered to Dawlish's back. He hadn't intended to show his hand too strongly in front of Augusta's Order members, but it was something he was willing to compromise on. An active Auror loyal to the Ministry, though? If Harry got their group out of this, he could kiss his anonymity goodbye. The Ministry would know him, and with Cornelius Fudge at the helm, there was nothing they hated more than a powerful unknown. The Minister would probably invent a half-dozen new laws just to send Harry to Azkaban. Not that Harry had any intention of going if he tried.
What Harry needed was a cover story. Something that would hide his involvement from those here. His eyes moved from Dawlish to Tonks.
She was an Auror too, but she was also Tonks. She'd been one of his favorite order members back in the day. Although she wasn't in the Order yet, Harry knew she'd be more sympathetic than Dawlish, given the context he met her under in the past. Most importantly, she was a Metamorphmagus. Harry decided it was worth the risk.
"On the right!" he screamed.
There was nothing there, but the others had no way of knowing that. His wand spat a blasting curse that eviscerated a nearby tree. In the chaotic dark, Harry grabbed Tonks's wrist, dragging her to the side.
He pulled her close to his chest, hitting their bodies with a strong propulsion charm. They were sent flying through the trees, striking multiple trunks, but Harry managed to get a cushioning charm up before each impact, leaving them to bounce around ultimately unharmed. They rolled to a stop, Tonks curled against Harry's chest, her eyes wide with fright. Harry didn't have time to explain anything to her yet. He stood up, palming his wand.
Their pursuers hadn't missed two of the group getting separated, and they were coming. Harry could hear their panting breaths; the clack of their fangs each time they barked. They raced toward him and Tonks, who scrambled around and pressed her back to a tree, fear in her eyes. She raised her wand without casting any spells. She believed she was going to die.
In an ideal world, Harry would have done this in a way that didn't traumatize her, but his options had been limited. He decided to finish this quickly for Tonks's sake.
Four werewolves had peeled off to deal with them. Not the whole pack… but the number of wizards who'd seen four adult werewolves bearing down on them and lived still couldn't be all that high.
Magic erupted from Harry's wand, bending the forest to his will. The werewolves almost flew forward as the ground beneath their feet lost all traction, going as smooth as glass. A powerful gust blew between the trees, scattering Harry's hair. It pushed the werewolves forward at dangerously high speeds— for them.
The full moon's light glittered on thin lines spanning the gap between the trees. The werewolves hit wires that were nearly too thin to see and razor sharp. Nothing but chunks remained after that.
"Holy sweet Merlin!" Tonks screamed, shielding her face not from claws and fangs, but from lumps of meat flying toward her. Harry banished the pieces, splattering the trees with blood to keep himself and Tonks dry.
Her face was ashen when she peeked between her arms. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the piles that had just been four adult werewolves, so Harry cupped her cheek and tilted her head, gently forcing her to look at him.
"You know the truth, don't you Tonks?" he said.
"The T-T-Truth?" she said.
"He Who Must Not be Named is back," Harry said. "Neville Longbottom is telling the truth. Think about it, a forest full of a whole pack of werewolves, and the only ones stumbling onto it are two unprepared Aurors? Dark creatures only move like this when they have a master. When they have a cause. Tonight alone is all the proof you need. Voldemort is out there."
The shadows felt chillier when he spoke the Dark Lord's name. Tonks shivered.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Me? I'm Harry Potter. I teach Muggle Studies. But I chose to commit my free time to a bigger cause, so that I can fight back, because someone has to. The Order of the Phoenix needs every spare wand they can get."
"They're back!" Tonks said. "Mum told me stories, but I didn't know they were already…"
A howl cut her off, somewhere far away. Harry looked in that direction.
"We don't have time," he said. "When we get out of here, I'm willing to explain everything. I'll bring you to a meeting personally, if you want to join the Order when this is done. But right now, my friends and your boss are in danger. We are the only ones who can save them."
Tonks glanced briefly at the bodies next to them.
"Just checking, but you don't expect me to do anything like that, do you?"
"Of course not, Tonks," Harry said. "Your job will be the simple one. All I need you to do is…"
O-O-O
A brief break in the pursuit had allowed Marlene, Sturgis, and Dawlish to slow to a walking pace when Harry stumbled out of the woods beside them.
"Harry!" Marlene wheezed, happy to see him but short of breath.
"Where's Tonks?" Dawlish demanded.
"We got separated while running," Harry said. He was breathing hard, with twigs in his hair and dirt on his face. "Last I saw her she was alright. I was completely lost until I found you guys again."
"The wolves fell behind," Marlene said. "We haven't seen any for a while."
Harry laughed nervously. "I wonder why?"
"We need to keep moving," Dawlish insisted. His eyes were darting around the dark, his fingers twitching against his wand. "They're still out there."
The others nodded. They forged through the woods again, climbing past roots and fighting their way forward. Harry walked behind the other three. Before leaving, he looked between the trees, where a soft whimper could be heard.
"Good luck," Tonks whispered, still in Harry's voice.
Not too far away, the real Harry's sleeves were rolled up. He watched a werewolf convulse on the ground, a conjured spike driven cleanly through its head. Another stood above the body, eyeing him with undisguised wariness.
"The thing about werewolves is that talking is never an option," Harry said heavily. "Even if you were in human form, I suspect there'd be no getting through to you. If you chose to live in the woods with a pack like this, you must have given into the wolf in your head. You're worse than a beast. You don't just kill for food, you kill to kill. I'm sorry, but I can't let you escape. Any of you."
Even the sadism of a werewolf has its limits. It could feel that if it charged now, it wouldn't find a new victim; it would become a victim. It turned and fled.
"Werewolves are resistant to spells, just like trolls," Harry said. "But it's not perfect."
He summoned a single part of the werewolves body: one of the many sharp fangs lining its mouth. The tooth was stubborn, fighting him every step of the way. But with an object so small, Harry's will couldn't be overpowered. He forced the tooth to come to him. It raced into his hand, ripping through the back of the wolf's skull on the way.
The beast collapsed on the ground, dying. Harry flicked the fang aside, jogging in the direction the others had run. With no eyes on him and three witnesses for his alibi, it was time to get to work.
The werewolves could have their hunt. He'd just have a hunt of his own.
O-O-O
One wolf had its neck snapped when tree roots came to life underneath it. Another was crushed by a tree inexplicably falling on top of it. For three others, the ground simply opened and ate them, shutting again when they disappeared from sight. After a while, the Aurors and Order members barely had to jog, no more monsters hot on their heels. The woods became unnaturally quiet. When that happened, Harry silently separated from them, walking a good distance away.
He found a quiet part of the woods where the canopy wasn't so thick. The extra moonlight illuminated his surroundings, and he sat down atop a gnarled stump, crossing his legs while he waited.
He didn't need to kill time for long. Glowing eyes appeared around him in a perfect ring. One pair, two pairs, three, six, nine… Twelve wolves appeared in total, spaced out so that he had nowhere to run. Harry smiled. If they had a plan of attack, that meant they had a leader.
"Are you here, Greyback?" he asked.
He had his doubts at first, but by now there could be no doubt. Harry had killed almost ten werewolves already, yet here he was, surrounded by twelve more. There was only one werewolf in all of Britain who had a pack that large.
A wolf bigger than the rest prowled forward. Harry recognized him immediately, even though he was long dead in Harry's time. Fenrir Greyback's wolf form staggered up onto two legs, claws like knives glinting in the moonlight.
"You… My Pack… Dangerous…" he rasped.
His voice sounded like a sword pressed to a grindstone, but the fact that he could speak at all on a full moon was a testament to his nature. No one blurred the line between wolf and man, embracing the change, the way that Fenrir Greyback did.
"Yes, yes," Harry said. "I am dangerous. You did well seeing that. I had been hoping that if I put on enough of a show, you would come to me."
His lack of fear enraged Greyback, who threw his head back and howled. His pack followed suit. The sound would have made Harry's ears bleed, but he conjured translucent domes over them, blocking all sound until Greyback lowered his head.
"Killlllll…!" Greyback rasped.
The surviving half of his back charged Harry. There was no time for fancy tricks with their teeth or banishing conjured items at them. Instead, Harry created a dome of glass over himself.
Greyback's wolf lips pulled up in an eerily human smile. He knew his pack could tear through a paltry defense like that one. Their claws and fangs struck the grass, sending fractures through it with each strike. Harry stood up on the stump he'd been sitting on. He suddenly shot into the air.
His glass defenses had been left open at the top, allowing him to fly up roughly thirty feet with nothing in his way. The wolves might have been shocked, if he gave them any time to be. Harry hit the stump he'd been standing on with the most powerful blasting curse he knew.
He could feel the shockwave even up so high in the air. The concussive force tore his weak barrier into shreds, turning it to its real purpose: as a weapon. Glass shards flew out like the pellets on a shotgun. They didn't just tear into the werewolves, they flew straight through them. Greyback had hung back. His cowardice preserved his life, but it didn't save him.
He had leapt behind the nearest tree, its hefty bark absorbing the glass that struck it. But as Harry lowered himself to the ground, he saw blood splattered on the forest floor. A quick investigation showed that Greyback had disappeared, but a bloody trail had been left in his wake, beginning with a bloody stump that had once been a hand.
Harry followed the trail. Greyback was done for. But to properly end a beast like this, you had to pull up every last one of its roots. He wouldn't pretend he planned all this, but Harry was certainly going to take advantage of the situation.
It was time to pay the wolf a visit in his den.