Chapter 150: Lost Ones: Pursuit And Battle
The WAC required all werewolves to live under the sun. The “New Registration Act” served as the “household registration” and “social security” for werewolves. All wizards could sense this contract, which was also the unique identifier for registered werewolves.
It possessed a rather overbearing function: if a werewolf harmed another, the contract would be immediately triggered, and the WAC would be notified. Correspondingly, any wizard who killed a registered werewolf would also be marked by the contract.
Although the WAC management had not yet been elected and no disposition methods for marked wizards had been introduced, given that WAC seats included members of the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards.
With the endorsement of these two organizations, it was already enough of a deterrent.
This also led to the fact that werewolves who did not sign the “New Registration Act,” namely Greyback and his followers, could barely hide in the wizarding world.
The reason was simple: on one hand, they lacked the “New Registration Act” identifier, signifying they were unregulated and considered dissidents.
On the other hand, an unknown individual had placed a bounty on the black market throughout the British Isles for the capture of unregistered werewolves!
Faced with Gold Galleons, dark wizards had no integrity.
To this day, the scope of activity for unregistered werewolves like Greyback had been pushed to its limit due to the WAC, and they hardly dared to operate within the wizarding community.
Secluded wilderness was out of the question, and there were no such conditions near the London area.
Muggle-populated areas were theoretically unsuitable for werewolves with dark wizard identities to lurk. The Ministry of Magic had the Magical Incident Monitoring System （ and the International Confederation of Wizards had a similar technology called the Magical Exposure Level Clock, but they monitored magical exposure risk ）, which operated on a principle similar to Trace, using pre-arranged rituals to detect magical fluctuations within a certain range.
London, as the capital of England, had always been a heavily monitored area by the Ministry of Magic.
Unfortunately, this system was under the control of the “Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” a stronghold of Fudge.
But fortunately, the family of the green-eyed wizard had some influence within that department.
He answered Lupin’s question: “We detected suspicious magical incidents in several areas over the past two days through the Magical Incident Monitoring System. Combined with intelligence, we can basically determine their hiding places…”
As he spoke, he waved his wand.
With the soft murmur of a spell, the surrounding mist responded to his magic, coalescing before him to form a map.
Outlined with countless lines, this map of London showed several areas glowing with a faint fluorescence.
Mundungus whistled and exclaimed, “No wonder the great Mr. Weasley cast such a wide-ranging Mist Charm, it was to accommodate us. It’s really hard work, having to worry about meetings and also support incompetent subordinates.”
Although his words sounded like flattery.
Both Phil and Green Eyes felt as if the other was mocking them.
Lupin was helpless against Mundungus’s sarcastic remarks. He gave Phil and the other a strained smile, took his broom, and changed the subject: “Which area are we responsible for?”
Green Eyes glanced at Old Mundungus and pointed to the northwest corner of the map: “Watford town, a Muggle transportation hub. These 5 batches of werewolves are basically staying in similar places, with common characteristics being complex populations and convenient transportation. Of course, the group we’re responsible for is a bit more special.”
Looking at the flashing light on the map, Lupin’s mind raced: “Because it’s farther from London than the other teams?”
“Yes, it’s a form of avoiding harm. We judge that Fenrir Greyback is likely in this group.”
“You can’t determine his whereabouts?”
Green Eyes spread his hands helplessly: “No one can determine his whereabouts. Since the Dark Lord fell, the Aurors have been hunting him for 11 years, and they still haven’t found any trace of him.”
Lupin mused, “In other words, we’re not sure if he’ll participate in this operation.”
“Yes… Of course, he’d better participate!”
Hearing this, Mundungus, who had been incessantly sarcastic, surprisingly agreed: “Yes, it would be best if we could catch that guy. There’s no older werewolf in Britain than him. I heard he even modified himself. How much research value would that have! If we could capture him alive, Mr. Weasley would be very pleased.”
The other three looked blank, as if they hadn’t heard anything from his words.
“Are there only 4 of us for this capture?”
“Other teams have different people responsible, including some on-leave Aurors who will directly join us. They will assist us voluntarily.”
“Would Rufus Scrimgeour agree to that?”
“The esteemed Head of the Auror Office would certainly not agree, but these Aurors were invited by Kingsley Shackle to rehearse for Harry Potter’s birthday celebration in two days. They happened to pass by today and discovered dark wizards attacking civilians… Acting bravely does not violate Auror regulations!”
“…” Lupin gave a wry smile, “You’ve already prepared your excuse…”
Phil shrugged: “How can you call it an excuse? This is a fact. How heartwarming! After the matter is over, we’re even planning to send a thank-you letter to the Ministry of Magic!”
“Ha!”
Even Mundungus couldn’t help but laugh, suddenly looking forward to what Fudge’s expression would be at that time.
To deal with Greyback, the werewolves had mobilized almost all their wizarding power, also divided into 5 teams. With the cooperation of some “brave” Aurors, they launched the capture of 5 Greyback squads.
The reason for requiring Auror cooperation was still a lack of force!
While the absence of a full moon undoubtedly weakened the threat posed by Greyback and his group, it also weakened the combat power of the registered werewolves.
In a full moon environment, 20 of Greyback’s lackeys would be no match for the WAC!
Wizards feared the claws and fangs of werewolves, but WAC werewolves did not.
However, neither Dumbledore, the Wizengamot, nor the International Confederation of Wizards had ever considered holding the first representative congress during a full moon…
Perhaps apart from Vaughn, who had great confidence in the Wolfsbane Potion, very few wizards would dare to face a room full of transformed werewolves during a full moon!
Not to mention holding elections.
That scene would be too magical; wizards couldn’t handle it.
The thick mist of the Mist Charm was not, as Mundungus had maliciously belittled, a tool for Vaughn to “support his incompetent subordinates.”
Its primary purpose was to conceal the movements of the WAC wizards and Aurors, to avoid disturbing Muggles and causing magical leakage incidents as much as possible.
On the other hand, it also served to deceive the enemy.
Watford, this beautiful Muggle town, was now also engulfed in dense fog. As Matthew, wrapped in a faded coat, emerged from the Muggle convenience store, he could see almost nothing within his field of vision.
Matthew was a werewolf.
But a long time ago, he was also a normal wizard, graduating from Gryffindor with ambition, confident that he would rise to prominence and change the world.
Reality, however, brought him crashing down in the second week of his post-graduation tour （ a tradition for Hogwarts graduates ）—
While observing a tribe of imps, those kind and mischievous creatures, in a forest in Ireland, he was attacked by a werewolf.
It was a full moon that day.
So, not surprisingly, he contracted lycanthropy!
The attacker’s name was Fenrir Greyback.
Matthew would never forget the despair he felt, covered in wounds, in excruciating pain, amidst the terrified screams of the imps, as Greyback, after sating his bloodlust, dragged him into a cave.
All wizards who had received a proper education understood the horror of lycanthropy.
Contracting it was basically a ruined life.
His ideals, ambitions, and vows upon leaving school had completely collapsed that full moon night. In the first few days, he had tried to resist.
But he was no match for the magically powerful Greyback; he was as weak as a child before that demon.
He had also thought of suicide, but…
For whatever reason, he ultimately couldn’t make up his mind.
Perhaps there was still a shred of hope and fantasy in his heart, a hope that perhaps he hadn’t been infected?
Fantasizing that, even if infected, he could still be a wizard?
And these thoughts were completely shattered a month after his infection, on his first full moon.
Time had passed for too long, Matthew had almost forgotten what his first full moon felt like, with only pain remaining in his memory.
Deep into his brain, deep into his bones, the intense pain overwhelmed his consciousness.
When he awoke again, he was no longer in the cave where he had stayed for a month. He found himself in a familiar house in a Muggle village in Ireland, with two mangled corpses before him.
Fenrir Greyback, that demon, was laughing maniacally beside him.
“Matthew, my brother, my child, you have completed your transformation. Look, the useless worldly emotions of humanity have been severed by your own hand, destroyed. From today onwards, you will join a greater tribe…”
The mad ravings of the demon, even after decades, were still clearly etched in Matthew’s mind.
It had destroyed his will.
Just as the sight of the two corpses entering his vision, his entire world had collapsed—he had killed his own parents with his own hands!
All hope and fantasy vanished the moment he saw his parents’ bodies.
Along with his sanity!
Matthew couldn’t remember how he escaped, nor did he understand why Greyback let him go. At that time, he was just vaguely fleeing Ireland with all his might.
During that period of wandering, he had thought of suicide countless times, but the desire for revenge pulled him back. He had considered going to the Ministry of Magic, to Hogwarts.
But as he had learned at Hogwarts, he deeply understood how difficult it was to survive in the world as a werewolf.
No one believed him, a werewolf. The Ministry of Magic plastered his wanted photo in every wizarding town. Forget going to the Ministry or Hogwarts.
He couldn’t even find a single wizard willing to listen to him!
A few months later, when he collapsed, covered in wounds and near death, on the banks of the River Thames, only Greyback appeared before him again.
The demon bared its sharp teeth and smiled, wiping away his tears with its claws.
“Hate, my child, take revenge on me, take revenge on all those who don’t trust you, who hurt you. Kill them all, eat them—”
Hatred, twisted like that!
A cool breeze, carrying mist, brushed against his face. Matthew suddenly came to, staring blankly at the night sky obscured by the dense fog.
His consciousness broke free from the twisted, almost yellowed memories.
The doorbell of the convenience store behind him jingled. Two Muggles came out, shivered their necks in the cool wind, and complained, “It’s so foggy, you can’t see anything.”
“Isn’t it normal for London to have fog? Let’s go back and watch the game?”
Saying this, the two hurried away, the topic of the fog passed over lightly.
Watching the backs of the two Muggles quickly recede, Matthew frowned. He suddenly felt something was very wrong. Foggy weather was uncommon in London summers.
He was from a Muggle background and understood Muggle thinking better. Such an abnormal situation, and those Muggles weren’t even interested in discussing it?
Moreover…
Matthew tried to clear his mind, expanding his senses as much as possible.
Then he suddenly opened his eyes: “Magic!”
A warning, like an intuition, frantically reminded him. It was a spiritual warning, originating from both the mist and the wizard who created it!
A powerful wizard, who made his spirituality tremble in fear.
Matthew bolted and ran towards the Muggle community where the squad was hiding.
In fact, he had no idea what he was supposed to do in London this time. Greyback had simply ordered them to come, and he had come.
For many years, the pattern had been the same: he wandered the world like a zombie, following the object of his past revenge.
Sinking step by step into a quagmire he couldn’t escape.
The only thought that seemed to sustain him was one: survive!
Just like now!
“Such a vast area of fog, is it a Mist Charm? Such a basic spell, perhaps it covers the entire city? Damn, who did Greyback provoke!”
He cursed inwardly, not even caring about the sandwich and fried fish he had just bought.
He had to go and warn the team members hiding in their safe house, warn…
“Boom—”
As he crossed the street and was about to rush into the residential area, the dense fog suddenly churned. Firelight, a roar, interrupted his chaotic thoughts.
He instinctively stopped, looking through the deep fog, beyond the firelight, at the glow of spells suddenly appearing, accompanied by screams and curses.
“Damn it, you traitors!”
“How did they find us!”
“And Aurors—”
“Ah—”
Red light, green light, flickered back and forth in the swirling fog, and then, a spell exploded near Matthew, its immense force flinging him away.
As he rolled and got up, instinctively drawing his wand, he heard a faint, seemingly ancient voice say: “There’s still one who slipped through. Expelliarmus—”
The Disarming Charm!
Matthew almost at the first moment the red light appeared, swung his wand violently.
A hazy milky-white halo flickered in the air before his wand tip. The next instant, a red beam struck. Catching a glimpse of the rapidly approaching crimson haze from the corner of his eye, Matthew reacted extremely quickly, sweeping his wand across.
Bang!
Ripples spread through the air.
In that critical moment, the adrenaline secreted within him granted Matthew super-fast thinking speed. Time seemed to slow down, making his pupils dilate and light appear distorted in his eyes.
He saw an infinite amount of light pervading and erupting in his vision.
Everything became slow and clear, vibrant and bright.
Especially the incoming red light, representing the “Disarming Charm,” which shattered into saturated color spots upon impact with the Full Body-Bind Curse he had hastily cast.
Ripples appeared.
The crimson color spots, like stones skipping across a lake, pulled up by the water’s tension, were repelled by the Full Body-Bind Curse!
But in an instant, another red beam arrived.
The continuously secreting hormones not only accelerated Matthew’s thinking but also made him focused and calm. He watched the “slowly” flying Disarming Charm, while his body moved like lightning, swinging and flicking.
In the first exchange between wizards, the frequency was usually rapid and intense.
Just like now.
Even after entering combat, due to the hormones, the two wizards whose thinking had accelerated felt that “time” was passing very slowly.
But from an observer’s perspective, their movements, one casting the Disarming Charm and the other erecting a Full Body-Bind Curse to block and counter, were both so fast they seemed frenzied.
Only the sudden series of crackling explosions, like firecrackers, and the rising dust clouds around them could hint at the danger.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
After more than ten consecutive red beams scattered, with a rumble, an errant spell hit somewhere, and the sound of a collapsing building echoed from the dense fog.
The attacker’s rhythm paused for a moment.
Matthew immediately seized this opportunity, flicked his wand, and swiftly pointed it at the opponent who had been entangled with him, whose figure outline could only be seen in the dense fog:
“Stupefy!”
Red light spewed out （ the Stunning Spell also emits red light ）.
However, the opponent was also an experienced fighter. Matthew watched as his spell was flicked away from a distance as the opponent twitched their wand the next instant.
Matthew did not continue to retaliate. Instead, he seized the opportunity, swept his wand in front of him several times, and cast a thick Full Body-Bind Curse on himself.
There was no absolutely correct tactic in the wizarding world, but regardless of the tactic, the core principle required wizards to prioritize self-preservation—if you live longer than the enemy, you win!
As a Hogwarts graduate, Matthew had never forgotten the education he received. This was also the fundamental reason he could survive in the underground society filled with dark wizards and mingle with Greyback for decades.
After casting a thick Full Body-Bind Curse on himself, Matthew re-aimed his wand at the attacker.
The attacker did not attack again. The dense white mist churned, and the two confronted each other in silence.
However, in the distance, the noisy sounds of battle continued.
Curses, roars, screams, mixed with the whistling of spells and light, like a hellish drama without a visible stage.
Fine beads of sweat formed on Matthew’s forehead.
Amidst the roars and screams, he heard several rather familiar voices—members of his action team.
How many people had the enemy sent?
Why did they know where they were hiding?
What kind of enemy were we facing?
As thoughts and doubts swirled, at the edge of Matthew’s vision, amidst the countless halos scattered by the churning dense fog, a sickly green light flashed.
It was an Unforgivable Curse.
But what terrified Matthew was that after the Unforgivable Curse flashed, he didn’t hear any unfamiliar screams.
Besides their werewolf identity, his teammates were basically dark wizards who had lived on the edge of life and death for years. Setting aside their magical power, their dark magic was at least extremely skilled.
As if guessing what he was thinking, the voice on the other side, hidden behind the dense fog, finally spoke, sounding tired and ancient: “Isn’t it strange that you can only hear the voices of people you’re familiar with?”
Matthew remained silent, his fear preventing him from diverting his attention.
But the next words made his hair stand on end: “You are Matthew, aren’t you? One day, 20 years ago, you suddenly appeared beside Fenrir Greyback. Like all the other werewolves who followed Greyback, without a surname, without an origin, only a name!”
Damn it!
Matthew’s expression changed drastically. He finally realized something was wrong. He cast a spell, and then, without caring if it worked, retreated rapidly.
Simultaneously, the Apparition Spell was cast, and space warped around Matthew.
But in the next instant, Matthew’s expression froze—
Apparition failed!
The warping of space lasted only a moment before it dispersed like a bubble. He remained in place…
No, he seemed to have changed positions!
Because the attacker had, at some unknown point, appeared before him and smiled at him:
“I know your name. You probably don’t know me yet. My name is Remus Lupin. I am also a werewolf. In a sense, we are the same. Our fates have both plunged into the abyss because of that beast Greyback!”
When…
Matthew’s eyes widened, and he raised his wand.
A faint green light illuminated the tip of his wand. To Matthew’s surprise, the werewolf named Lupin before him did not dodge.
He was even speaking eloquently:
“Apparition failed, didn’t it? Actually, if you think about it, it’s only natural. If Apparition were possible, why didn’t your companions nearby escape?”
“Of course, you don’t need to consider if we set up an ‘Anti-Apparition Jinx.’ I can tell you, we didn’t. I can even tell you the reason—you just thought you Apparated, but in reality, as far as I can see, you were all just foolishly staying in place!”
Cold sweat instantly soaked Matthew’s back.
He finally realized something was wrong. His dilated pupils stared intently ahead, not at Lupin, but at the dense fog that filled the sky and earth!
Mist Charm!
The moment he understood, the surrounding mist churned, and one, two, three… an unknown number of Remus Lupins emerged from the mist.
Surrounding him!
“It seems you understand. Among all of you, you are the one least affected by the Mist Charm. If I’m not mistaken, you must have received formal education and graduated from Hogwarts?”
Matthew didn’t answer, just nervously and bewilderedly looked at the countless “Lupins” before him: “Are you my hallucination? When?”
“From the moment you walked out of the convenience store, Matthew.”
The answers to many of the night’s mysteries began to connect in Matthew’s mind.
He suddenly remembered standing blankly in front of the Muggle convenience store not long ago.
Perhaps he had already fallen under its spell then!
That’s why he suddenly recalled events from long ago, why he suddenly zoned out, and even his thoughts and beliefs had been influenced at that moment.
That’s why he “discovered” the mist was problematic, but uncharacteristically wanted to notify his “teammates”—with his normal personality, he didn’t possess such team spirit; the most he should have done was abandon his teammates to draw fire and escape himself!
The world before him began to distort.
Matthew could no longer bother with the countless “Lupins.” He clutched his head tightly, suppressing a roar: “Damn it… Get out of my head!”
But the hallucination showed no mercy.
The lingering echoes of the battle not far away suddenly ceased. The dense fog turned a deep black, like the night, and it surged forward, engulfing him.
Matthew watched, wide-eyed, as the faces of countless “Lupins” transformed into… Fenrir Greyback!
Tall, burly, evil!
That face, which he hated and feared, wore a rugged smile, saying to him: “Why do you want me to get out of your head? Matthew, why don’t you accept me? Why do you suppress yourself?”
“You’ve been evading for too long, child. The despair and pain of being abandoned by the world once overwhelmed your thoughts and memories. You’ve become afraid of me, and this fear has twisted into a pathological dependence… because only when I am alive does your life have the motivation to continue!”
More memories resurfaced.
Matthew felt an unbearable pain in his head. At some point, the black mist had completely swallowed him. He curled up on the ground, hugging his head tightly.
As if trying to prevent his forgotten memories from awakening.
But it was all in vain.
In reality, Lupin raised his wand high, his eyes glowing with a faint silver-blue light. It was Legilimency.
He stood at the entrance of a Muggle convenience store. The cool-toned light from the store spilled out through the windows, illuminating Matthew on the ground, curled up, wrapped in a washed-out white coat.
The previous combat had not actually occurred.
The Mist Charm cast by Vaughn, covering more than half of London, was not merely to “assist incompetent subordinates,” as Mundungus had said.
It could confuse the senses of Muggles within its range, keeping them away from dangerous outdoor areas, and it also served as a medium for illusions.
Of course, the nature of the Mist Charm dictated that, as a medium, it could not carry excessively powerful magical effects, only create simple illusions.
For example, stimulating, recalling, amplifying, and reinforcing the memories people were most unwilling to face.
Of course, without external interference, it would be difficult for wizards within the mist to be deluded by such simple illusions for an extended period.
This was also the purpose of the various capture teams—
Engaging in a fierce battle with Greyback’s henchmen was the lowest-tier option. Once combat erupted, it was difficult for either side to control the intensity of the battle, let alone prevent Muggles from being affected.
Compared to a firefight, having the capture teams cooperate with the Mist Charm to conduct memory-based warfare was undoubtedly a safer method.
The mist grew thicker, and the streets of London became extremely deserted. The deluded Muggles had all returned indoors, indifferent to everything happening outside.
The convenience store in front of Lupin was no exception. The store clerk, oblivious to Lupin and Matthew just a door away, was intently watching a television with nothing on it.
But in his mind, he was watching a football match, and this confused memory would become blurred tomorrow, becoming insignificant, just like every other boring night in the past.
After an unknown amount of time, footsteps sounded from behind.
Lupin deactivated Legilimency. After his prolonged memory reading and the confusion caused by the Mist Charm, Matthew’s consciousness had been severely impacted. The moment Lupin released the spell, he collapsed unconscious.
“Oh dear, Remus, you didn’t kill him, did you?”
The voice was oily, it was Mundungus.
Lupin ignored him, turned around, and saw Mundungus holding a bag, followed by Phil Travers, who had a stern face.
“Did you finish your side?”
“Of course, Old Mundungus never fails.” Mundungus chuckled, “The most important thing is Mr. Weasley’s magic, which is astonishing. Even those Aurors, and this young Travers beside me, their memory magic is practically a mess, yet they can still control a group of heinous dark wizards. It’s a miracle!”
“…”
Phil Travers sneered in disgust. He didn’t know why this short, plump old man always targeted him.
Lupin also found it strange, but now was not the time to worry about other matters.
“Did you find anything on your side?”
“No.” Phil shook his head. “I and the Aurors read the memories of several people. Greyback isn’t here. What about your side?”
“Nothing of value.” Looking at the unconscious Matthew at his feet, Lupin sighed, inspired: “He’s also a pitiable person…”
Before he could finish, Mundungus interjected: “Let me guess, he was deliberately bitten by Greyback, lost control on his first full moon and killed his family, and then because of his werewolf identity, he wasn’t understood or accepted, so he gave up and became Greyback’s subordinate?”
Lupin was stunned.
Mundungus spread his hands: “Come on, Remus, isn’t this kind of story very common? Not everyone is as lucky as you. Your father was a powerful wizard and a former Ministry official （ Lyall Lupin was responsible for the trial of Greyback, thus offending him, leading to Greyback biting Remus in retaliation ）. Even though you became a werewolf, he could still restrain you.”
“Later, he sent you to Hogwarts, and you even made 3 friends! My lucky partner, in reality, most werewolves are incredibly unlucky compared to you. Their parents and family usually don’t survive the first full moon. Many werewolves collapse under such blows and then degenerate.”
“…”
Mundungus hesitated to say one thing: in his opinion, Remus Lupin had been well protected by his “ivory tower” for most of his life.
He had never truly experienced what despair was like!
Phil, on the other hand, said with emotion after hearing Mundungus’s words: “Greyback is truly damnable! Many people’s tragedies are caused by him!”
Distracted by him, Mundungus no longer mocked Lupin: “Young Travers, you’re so righteous, why don’t you help me put this guy in my bag?”
“…”
“Hurry up. Maybe when we get back, Mr. Weasley will have a way to dig out where Greyback is hiding from their memories. Then maybe you can vent your strange sense of justice!”
“Mr. Fletcher, I think I need to explain that the Travers I belong to are different from another Travers family…”
“Shut up, get to work!”
