Chapter 96: A Promise and a Departure
In the end, Sirius, Moody, and Lupin did not stay for the resumed Christmas dinner. The captured Fenrir Greyback was a priority—a treasure trove of potential intelligence that needed to be secured and interrogated at the Order's headquarters immediately. When Elian reopened the shimmering portal for them, he noted the dark, simmering look in Remus Lupin's eyes. The werewolf professor wasn't just thinking about interrogation; he was envisioning a long-overdue reckoning.
Just before stepping through, Lupin hung back, pulling Elian aside. His voice was low, thick with emotion. "Elian… thank you. You may not know… I am a werewolf. Because of him." He jerked his head towards the petrified bundle on the floor. The bitterness in his tone was a lifetime's worth.
Elian gave a small, understanding nod. "You're welcome, Professor Lupin. And… perhaps one day, I may be able to do more than just capture him. There might be a way to address the… condition itself."
The words landed not as a whisper, but as a thunderclap in the quiet hall.
Lupin's entire body went rigid. His eyes, usually weary and kind, widened with a shock so profound it bordered on pain. "What?" he breathed, the word barely audible. "You… you said you might have a way? To… to cure it?" He searched Elian's face frantically, looking for a hint of jest, of cruel hope. He found only calm certainty.
"I said it's possible," Elian clarified, his tone measured. "The magic I study deals with the structure of things—energy, form, essence. A lycanthropic curse is a profound alteration, but it is, at its core, a magical construct. It may be reversible. Not now. But… perhaps not never."
Lupin stared, his mind unable to fully grasp the magnitude of what was being offered. Decades of resigned agony, of social exile, of monthly torment, suddenly had a hypothetical endpoint. A fragile, incredible hope, more dizzying than any spell, bloomed in his chest. He nodded, a frantic, jerky motion. "I… I can wait. I've waited my whole life. Any chance… any chance at all…"
Sirius and Moody, overhearing the exchange from the portal's edge, exchanged a look of stunned disbelief. Curing lycanthropy? It was the stuff of miracle-worker legends, not something discussed casually by a teenager after a battle. Yet, coming from the boy who had just redefined combat magic before their eyes, it carried a terrifying weight of plausibility.
They were realizing, with dawning, humbling clarity, why Dumbledore treated Elian Throne not as a student, but as a peer. Why he was the 'new variable'. This wasn't just a powerful wizard. He was a harbinger of something entirely new, a system that could potentially overturn magical truths they had accepted as immutable. The thought was as exhilarating as it was frightening.
With final, solemn nods of gratitude to Elian and the Lovegoods, the three Order members dragged their prisoner through the portal, which snapped shut behind them, leaving the odd house in sudden, heavy quiet.
Only Elian, Luna, and a deeply sombre Xenophilius remained.
Elian looked at the splintered wreckage of the front door and winced. "My apologies again, Mr. Lovegood. For the door, and for… all of this."
Xenophilius shook his head slowly, his usual eccentric energy utterly drained. "No, Mr. Throne. The fault is not yours. It is mine for publishing our plans. I simply never imagined… the world has grown so dark again, so quickly." He looked around his cluttered, unique home, his eyes lingering on every strange knick-knack, every memory. "We cannot stay here."
The decision hung in the air, final and sad.
"Let us at least finish our meal," Xenophilius said, his voice thick. "It is still Christmas, after all."
The dinner that followed was a surreal affair. The turkey was cold, the purple soup had congealed, but they ate in quiet companionship. Xenophilius raised his glass of elf-made wine, his hand trembling slightly. "A toast to you, Mr. Throne. For your courage. I… I am in awe." He drained his glass.
Luna, who had watched the night's horrors with her characteristic, silent acceptance, took a small sip of her own drink, her silvery eyes never leaving Elian's face.
An hour later, it was time. Elian stood before the repaired but clearly damaged wall, the Sling Ring on his finger.
"Mr. Lovegood," he said, turning. "You should leave soon. If you have nowhere to go… my house in London is empty and secure. You and Luna would be welcome."
The offer was genuine. The thought of Luna's serene presence in the quiet of Carnaby Street was unexpectedly appealing.
Xenophilius managed a tired, grateful smile. "Thank you, but no. Luna's grandmother has a cottage. Very secluded. We will be safe there."
Elian accepted this with a nod. He offered a final smile to Luna, who gave him a small, knowing wave, and then to Xenophilius. "Stay safe."
He traced the circle. The golden-red gateway shimmered open, showing the familiar, dark interior of his London bedroom. With a last glance at the curious rook-house and its besieged inhabitants, he stepped through.
The portal vanished.
Alone in his room at 35 Carnaby Street, the silence was absolute and ringing. The adrenaline of the fight had ebbed, leaving a cold clarity. He walked to his bedpost, unhooked the Time-Turner, and held it in his palm. The tiny hourglass within glittered.
He let out a slow breath. "Alright. Let's see if Dumbledore's gift works as advertised."
He had a Christmas dinner to attend. In Manchester.
(End of Chapter)
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/TofuChan
💕Patreon members get early access to chapters, bonus content, and voting power on future ideas.💕
Every bit of support helps me write more and faster. Thank you so much for reading! 🥰
Bonus Chapter For Every 100 Power Stones
Lets hit the goal of 200 Patreon Members now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕