'A werewolf!'
Avada remembered clearly—this was the third time in his life he had felt that heart-stopping mixture of panic and suppressed fury. The last time had been when he left the abandoned bathroom and saw Filch petrified. The time before that was the instant Voldemort killed Quirrell and tore his soul apart to escape the trap…
Such a young werewolf, born to completely normal human parents—there was only one possible explanation.
According to current research conclusions, although the werewolf curse was a brand rooted in vitality, it had essentially been confirmed that it could not be inherited genetically. The only exception occurred when two werewolves mated in wolf form during the full moon. Something bizarre would happen: the werewolf would give birth to a litter of true wolf cubs. When they matured, they would become extraordinarily beautiful wolves—indistinguishable from real wolves, except that they possessed intelligence close to that of humans. However, in recorded history, this had only been documented twice…
Therefore, a child this young could not naturally become a werewolf—unless…
Another werewolf had deliberately attacked him, intentionally infecting him with that vile curse.
'So that's why those pure-blood families and wealthy households are scrambling to install Anti-Apparition wards. And that's why nearly all of them have young children…'
As the scattered clues snapped together in that instant, revealing the truth, Avada felt his chest tighten. He had to draw a long, steady breath, careful not to make a sound.
'Someone… werewolves… are attacking children in the magical community. In batches. On a large scale!'
'No. That's not right. Calm down…'
The composure forged from years of living in danger quickly dragged him back from the brink of emotional upheaval. His thoughts steadied once more.
'If that's all there is to it, why hasn't this news spread throughout the magical world? Why hasn't the Ministry taken action? And why are those threatened pure-bloods and wealthy families merely installing wards instead of taking further measures?'
'Too many inconsistencies. Calm down. Observe more carefully first…'
He shifted his focus back to the child. The boy was making exaggerated faces, clearly trying to cheer up his inexplicably worried parents.
'Vitality… a standard werewolf curse imprint. No different from the one inside Professor Lupin. The spiritual layer is the same as well. Judging purely by symptoms, there's no additional clue… Wait. What is that?'
Avada's gaze sharpened.
Only now did he notice that beneath the standard werewolf curse imprint, there was another faint magical trace hidden within it…
'A clear artificial mark… Someone tampered with the curse imprint?'
'Based on its structural framework and positioning, it seems directly connected to the curse mark. It retains some sort of receiving function?'
'What is this meant to accomplish? The artificial magic doesn't appear consistent in effect. It doesn't seem like a healing method…'
'This requires closer examination.'
He slowly and steadily moved his arm, letting his wand slip soundlessly into his palm, where his fingers closed tightly around it. Then, with smooth, rhythmic, silent motions, an invisible force gradually flowed from the tip of the wand, spreading gently like light and enveloping the entire room…
"Yaaawn—"
Tyler, who had been trying to hide his worry and unease, suddenly let out a sluggish yawn and rubbed his eyes. "I think I'm getting a little sleepy…"
"Too tired from work, dear? Yaaawn—"
"Now that you mention it, I'm feeling sleepy too… Merlin's beard, isn't it a bit early to go to bed?"
"Snore… snore…"
The yawning spread quickly among the three of them, with remarkable effectiveness. The poor child who had been infected first succumbed, closing his eyes drowsily and falling asleep. His parents struggled to keep their eyes open long enough to carry him to bed and tuck him in, but soon they too surrendered to the sudden wave of fatigue and lost consciousness.
"Now then, let me see what really happened…"
Avada lifted his hand slightly. An invisible force gently pried open Tyler's eyelids, exposing pupils that were already beginning to lose focus.
"When I mentioned that matter, he reacted with such intense emotion. He must know something—at the very least, he knows who turned his son into a werewolf, and why…"
"Apologies. I only decided a few days ago to stop abusing mental magic. But now…"
He stepped softly to Tyler's bedside and looked down at him, locking eyes with the man's unfocused pupils, preparing to cast Legilimency and step into his memories…
Whoosh—
Bang!
The moment he sensed the anomaly, Avada darted sideways. A bolt of red light as fast as lightning grazed his shoulder and slammed into the wall behind him!
'Someone!'
Only then did he realize his mistake—he had followed Tyler's spatial corridor directly to his home without even checking whether anyone lay in wait outside at a distance!
In a flash of thought, he Apparated outside the house. The night sky stretched overhead, and a wooden cabin stood alone in a grassy field—the outward appearance of Tyler's home.
Hearing the crack of Apparition behind him, confirming that the attacker had followed him out, Avada immediately activated Near Yet Far and slipped into the spatial interstice. His wand flicked swiftly and lightly as a powerful, concealed spell began gathering at its tip…
The one who had ambushed him was likely an accomplice of the werewolf—perhaps even the werewolf himself. And if that were the case, then all the better. He wouldn't need to force his way into Tyler's memories with Legilimency.
As long as he defeated this person and pried every secret from his mouth, he would obtain all the answers he sought!
'Let's see how you handle this…'
Drifting like a phantom within the spatial interstice, he circled behind the attacker in the blink of an eye, ready to burst out and deliver a devastating strike from the rear—
But at the last moment, he froze.
The man's vitality structure was not that of a werewolf, but that of a perfectly ordinary wizard. More than that, his spiritual power burned like a blazing fire—exceptionally bright and powerful—clearly on the same tier as top-tier wizards like Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. Most crucial of all, there was a distinctive fracture within his soul, and the structure of his spiritual power was unmistakably familiar…
'Pro—Professor Baker?!'
'Why is he here again? And why here, waiting specifically for me?!'
(End of Chapter)