Several figures behind the wall were still fighting when the sudden crash made them jump.
"Aurors?" one of Greyback's werewolves froze, his wand hanging uselessly in mid-air.
They all stopped at the same time and turned toward the billowing dust.
"Could you maybe try being a bit more graceful?" Tver said, clearly annoyed.
He blew lightly across his wand, sweeping all the dust and fallen bricks together into a neat pile off to the side.
Which, of course, exposed them completely.
Marvolio was still frozen mid-charge, and with his massive build he looked like a battering ram ready to be unleashed.
Tver, in contrast, looked perfectly composed. His right hand held his wand, the left resting lightly over it before his chest. A faint smile touched his lips, and with his elegant, immaculate clothing, he looked more like someone arriving for a dinner party than someone crashing a fight.
"Is Mr. Remus John Lupin here?"
"I… I am." Lupin raised his hand hesitantly.
He wasn't sure why—he just felt he should.
The werewolves who had been crowding around him instantly jumped back, terrified of being dragged down with him.
Aurors or not, anyone could tell these two weren't far off from being Werewolves themselves—they were ruthless.
Tver let his smile fade and took his time examining Lupin from head to toe.
The two of them couldn't have been more different.
Lupin's hair was the gray of settled ash, and deep lines creased his face far too early. His complexion was pale and drawn, as though exhaustion clung to him like a shadow. His worn robes looked even worse than those of the other werewolves—thin, shabby, patched in every imaginable way.
But his eyes were clear and steady, carrying a quiet resolve. And he didn't seem injured.
No one dared make a sound while Tver inspected him.
After a long moment, Tver finally drew back, satisfied, and the smile returned to his face.
Perfect. Task nearly accomplished.
"I'm delighted to inform you, Mr. Remus Lupin, that you have been hired as the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."
"Your appointment letter will be sent once Headmaster Dumbledore gives final confirmation. Please try not to wander too far, or our owl might have trouble finding you."
The silence that followed was downright eerie...
Lupin stared at the unruffled Tver and the unbothered Marvolio beside him.
What was happening? He'd literally been fighting moments ago, and now two people had arrived to tell him he'd been hired—as a Hogwarts professor?!
Was this the wizarding world he knew?
Or had everyone simply been knocked silly in the brawl?
And—
"But… I never applied for a position at Hogwarts," he said uncertainly.
"Ah, that's a question you'll need to take up with Dumbledore. I'm only delivering his message."
Tver had clearly decided everything already. Once Lupin stepped foot into the Headmaster's office, the rest wouldn't be up to him anymore.
(≖ᴗ≖)✧
"…Alright. Fine." Lupin nodded numbly.
He then pointed toward the werewolves opposite him—who had huddled together nervously the moment they heard Dumbledore's name.
"I still have something to deal with. I'll need a moment."
Tver frowned. "Can't we go back to Hogwarts first?"
"But they won't let me leave so easily."
Lupin sighed helplessly and raised his wand again.
"You'd better step back. Their aim is terrible. If they hit you by accident, it'll be a mess."
Tver only sighed and slowly lifted his own wand.
"No need to bother."
With a gentle sweep from right to left, the bricks in the corner rose into the air, forming a massive wall that blotted out half the room.
And in the next instant—just as dread crept across the werewolves' faces—the bricks shot forward like thousands of darting birds, trailing clouds of dust as they hurtled straight toward them in a ferocious barrage...
Crack!
The werewolves scrambled, flinging their wands in panic and using every spell they'd ever learned to block the incoming storm of bricks.
But this time, even their terrible aim didn't matter.
Professor Fawley had very thoughtfully provided them with enough targets to bury them alive.
Bricks shattered one after another, yet an endless number still hovered in the air. Even the fragments joined the assault, whipping toward them from every direction.
Aside from Greyback's powerful build, the other werewolf wizards were thin and frail compared to their wolf forms. Their bodies were already covered in bloody cuts, and wherever the bricks struck, ugly bruises bloomed across their skin. Their already ragged clothes were torn to the point of disintegration. Fortunately, there weren't any women among them, or this story wouldn't be fit for print.
"We've got no quarrel with Lupin! You can let him go!"
"...Actually, just let us go!"
"It was all Greyback's idea! We— ah!"
Greyback, furious, clamped a hand around the man's throat and lifted him like a chick, holding him up as a shield.
"That man who hasn't even moved yet—that's Dawlish. He'll never let a bunch of dark wizards like us walk away!"
"You've made that big a name for yourself among dark wizards?" Tver looked at Marvolio in surprise.
Marvolio spread his arms with smug flair, looking exactly like a certain self-proclaimed expert.
"Of course. No one understands dark wizards better than me!"
"Ah—!"
The werewolves' defenses finally buckled. Now and then, one collapsed under the barrage, only to be buried by the next wave of bricks.
"You're not planning to kill them all, are you?" Marvolio asked, worried.
"Feeling sentimental about your former subordinates?"
"Obviously. A dead dark wizard is far less valuable than a living one!"
"…Relax. They're not dead."
Watching the two of them chatting away as if nothing were happening—Lupin couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging by their easy expressions, it was something casual.
His worldview felt like it was on the verge of collapse.
When had the werewolves, feared across the wizarding world, ended up completely helpless before a single wizard?
"Careful!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Lupin saw Greyback suddenly move after staying still the whole time. He shouted the warning instantly.
Greyback used his massive frame—bigger even than Dawlish's—to plow straight through the flying bricks.
Within moments, he had forced a path through the barrage and charged toward Tver and the others without slowing.
Triumph lit up his eyes, and his sharp teeth gleamed.
He was the strongest werewolf. Even without transforming, he could easily tear a normal person apart.
Thud.
He barely made it a few steps before he was slammed flat onto the ground, pinned beneath several enormous hands.
More hands materialized, piling over him until he was completely submerged...
Greyback tried to brute-force his way out, but after only a few struggles, an even larger palm pressed down over him, muffling him into silence.
With Greyback no longer serving as their shield, the remaining werewolves had no strength left to resist. One by one, they were buried under the mountain of bricks.
Only then did Tver realize that in gathering enough bricks, he'd somehow torn down most of the walls in the area, leaving only the load-bearing wall wobbling precariously.
"Alright, they've let you go. Off you go to see Dumbledore~"
Seeing Lupin still look hesitant, Tver teased, "What's wrong? Forgotten how to get back to Hogwarts? Worried you can't find the Headmaster's office?"
Lupin let out a small laugh.
"Alright. Thank you—both of you."
He loosened his shoulders, suddenly looking much lighter, and waved goodbye to Tver.
As soon as Lupin disappeared, Marvolio rubbed his hands together and strode eagerly toward the piles of rubble.
"Perfect. Time for me to rack up some credit!"