Chapter 115: I Am a Werewolf
When they arrived at the farm, Harry was immediately surrounded by everyone. Steven Mor warmly prepared a lavish dinner for them.
“So, what exactly happened?” Theo asked after the meal.
Harry held a glass of Pumpkin Juice and recounted what had happened—how the Dursleys had taken away all his magical belongings right after the start of summer holidays. At least then, he’d still had some freedom, until he met a house-elf who called himself “Dobby.”
“He said something terrible would happen at Hogwarts,” Harry said, still baffled even now. “He told me not to go back.”
In a light tone, Harry downplayed the strangeness of it all, despite the anxious glances from Hermione and the others.
“He claimed he was protecting me. To that end, he intercepted all your letters to me, used a Hovering Charm to knock over Aunt Petunia’s dinner for guests, and ruined Uncle Vernon’s business deal.”
Then came the Ministry of Magic’s warning—and his imprisonment. “Well, until Wade and Mr. Lupin came to rescue me.”
“That’s too strange,” Theo frowned. “A house-elf shouldn’t act without a Master’s command, nor should it use magic.”
“Who else could’ve done this?” Hermione asked, scanning the room.
“Malfoy, obviously!” Harry said. “He hates me.”
They discussed the Malfoys’ many misdeeds for a while. Michael noticed that Wade had remained silent throughout.
When everyone else began yawning, Wade finally said, “Time to sleep. The farm’s under a spell—only permitted house-elves can enter.”
Harry nodded in agreement. He was slowly coming around to the idea that Dobby must’ve been sent by Malfoy to mock him. Taking the elf’s warnings seriously would’ve been foolish.
One by one, the others went to their rooms. Michael lingered behind.
“Wade,” he said, “are you still thinking about that house-elf’s warning?”
“What do you think?” Wade asked.
Michael paused, then replied, “We don’t have a house-elf at home, but my father told me—house-elves act only under their Master’s orders. Their behavior is always controlled.”
He shifted tone slightly. “But… I suppose even something with its own thoughts isn’t absolutely predictable. Though rare, there have been house-elves who betrayed their Masters… even killed them.”
He added casually, “But no need to worry. Dumbledore’s still around.”
At that moment, Michael’s admiration for Dumbledore had reached its peak. Though he never said it aloud, for most of the past year, he’d lived in fear—wondering when the Dark Lord might turn his wrath on students. But in the end, the very terror that had haunted Britain turned out to be just another piece on Dumbledore’s board.
What could possibly be worse than the Dark Lord?
“Yeah,” Wade nodded. “I hope Hogwarts stays safe this year.”
Michael headed upstairs, pausing for a last glance. Wade sat by the window, reading a newspaper, a candle flickering beside him. Moonlight, silver and frosty, poured over his frame, as if draped in a cloak.
A snowy owl sliced through the night sky.
Wade’s eyes lingered on an advertisement in the paper:
【Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing and selling his autobiography—Me, the Magical One—in Diagon Alley】
---
Back in the bedroom, Harry was nearly asleep, but he still opened his long-lost Book of Friends—the one linking him, Ron, and Hermione.
He hadn’t received a single birthday greeting. For days, he’d believed he’d been forgotten, crushed by loneliness.
But now he knew—Dobby had intercepted all their gifts. That realization had restored his hope.
Hermione was here, on the farm. Harry decided he should let Ron know he was safe, so his friend wouldn’t think he’d just vanished without a word.
As soon as he sent a quick message, Ron’s replies flooded in:
【Ron: Thank Merlin, you’re still alive!】
【Ron: Why haven’t you answered my messages? I invited you twelve times! Dad said you used magic in front of Muggles—you got a warning from the Ministry…】
【Ron: Are you okay? I’m planning to steal Dad’s car to come get you. Fred and George are coming too.】
Ron’s handwriting was messy, rushed. Every time Harry tried to reply, another message appeared.
Then, the final line made him jump.
【Ron: What happened?】
Finally, Harry had time to explain—everything. He told Ron about Dobby, the Ministry’s warning, the farm, and the group’s suspicions.
Suddenly, the window outside his room tapped three times.
Harry looked up. Hedwig stood on the sill, staring at him with solemn eyes.
He opened the window. The owl stepped inside, then placed a fresh dead rat on the table, pushing it toward him with her claw.
“Is this for me?” Harry laughed, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Thanks, girl… but I don’t eat rats. You keep it.”
---
Life at Gralin Farm was surprisingly rich and full of wonder.
They followed Steven Mor in caring for newborn Tail-Fox Dogs, rescued a Sprite tangled in vines, and watched Hippocampi swimming with their foals in the lake.
At dawn, they collected Moonstruck Beast droppings, damp with dew. They traded food with Mortra Rats for their antenna juice, and left fresh chicken and fish near Cat Fox’s den.
“It’s lactation season,” Steven Mor explained. “Without enough food, she might abandon a few weaker pups.”
The young wizards occasionally found feathers shed by Silence Birds in the grass—valuable ingredients for Veritaserum and Memory Draughts. Steven Mor generously allowed them to keep anything they found.
On quiet afternoons, they wrote assignments, practiced spells in the living room, or flew laps on their broomsticks above the farm.
Days passed in a blur. Soon, the young wizards each returned home via the Floo Network. Remus Lupin had prepared a new house and was ready to take Harry away.
Before that, however, he confessed something.
“Harry… Wade… I… I’m a Werewolf.”
He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. But after much thought, he realized he couldn’t keep it hidden.
“A… Werewolf?” Harry blinked, confused.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with the term, but he’d never truly felt the danger behind it.
Wade nodded. “I know.”
“You… know?” Lupin looked surprised, then gave a wry smile. “Strange. You never contacted me on Full Moon nights. I never even thought about it.”
He looked at Harry. “I was bitten as a child. That’s why I’m like this.”
“But I promise—you’re safe. I leave the house before the full moon. And I take Wolfsbane Potion every month.”
Now, with the job Wade had secured for him, he finally had enough money to afford the potion—a magical brew that kept the Werewolf’s mind clear even during transformation.
“Of course,” Lupin added quickly, almost nervously, “I know you might feel uneasy. But you’re welcome to stay at Gralin Farm. I asked Mr. Mor—he’s more than happy to have you until school starts.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Harry said firmly, gripping his hand. “I believe you. You won’t hurt me!”
He’d longed for a safe haven—anywhere he could belong. And even a Werewolf couldn’t scare him away.
---
“Get ready, Wade,” Steven Mor said cheerfully on a quiet day after the farm settled into peace. “We’re visiting Mr. Scamander tomorrow. I’ve already made the appointment.”
(End of Chapter)
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