Chapter 65: The Werewolf Wanderer
It was another early morning, in the basement.
The gray daylight filtered in from the skylight, and the shadow of snow danced outside.
Vaughn was bent over an experiment bench, several lamps focusing their light on his eyes, gathered by magic and spread evenly, like a viscous liquid.
Dense but orderly slides floated around him.
The crimson blood within the slides shimmered with the luster of jewels, occasionally passing through a halo of magic.
“Specimen 763!”
As Vaughn muttered to himself, one slide floated to the microscope, and number 762 automatically retracted, allowing it to take its place under the objective lens.
Time slipped away in this monotonous verification of one specimen after another. By the time Vaughn straightened up to stretch his joints due to back pain, it was already broad daylight.
Rubbing his rumbling stomach, Vaughn didn’t persist. He drew his wand and gave a wave. A box on the experiment bench opened, and the floating slides automatically stored themselves inside. The microscope extended limbs to cover itself with a dust cloth.
With a snap of Vaughn’s fingers, a wool sweater, a jacket, and a velvet suit floated down from the clothes rack in the corner.
The lab coat he was wearing automatically shed itself and tucked itself into the nearby laundry bin.
His casual clothes rushed to put themselves on him, and a considerate iron hopped up, spinning around him, seemingly searching for wrinkles.
This was the magic belonging to this house.
Vaughn covered his mouth with his hand and yawned, mumbling, “The Professor really knows how to enjoy himself…”
He was currently at Snape’s house, located in a remote suburb of the small, out-of-the-way town called Cokeworth, at number 19 Spider’s Tail Alley.
From the town’s name, one could tell it belonged to Muggles. (Coke means charcoal, representing industry.) Looking out from the narrow skylight above the basement, one could see a huge chimney towering in the distance, overlooking the entire town.
After tidying up, Vaughn left the basement.
There was no spacious and cozy living room, nor a hospitable host. When Vaughn pushed open the basement door and came upstairs, he could only see a small room.
Lamps hanging from the ceiling, along with a circle of candles, but their dim yellow light didn’t bring much brightness. Under the faint candlelight, the four walls of the small room were crammed with books, making it feel even more cramped.
The remaining floor space barely accommodated an old sofa, an old lounge chair, and a wobbly table.
All the furnishings gave off a sense of being worn-out, dim, and oppressive, with nothing to bring joy.
Just like Snape, who was currently sitting on the frayed sofa, his eyes vacant, lost in thought.
Vaughn, however, was completely unfazed. He waved and said, “Hi, Professor, have you had breakfast?”
A faint spark appeared in Snape’s vacant eyes, as if he were being pulled from his thoughts. He glanced at Vaughn and responded to his energy with a cold demeanor: “No!”
“Then you haven’t cooked? Great, give me some Pounds Sterling, Professor, I’ll go out and eat myself!”
Snape: “…”
The stuffy air in the room suddenly became more active. Snape’s face stiffened, and after fumbling in his pocket for a while, he finally found a crumpled 5 Pound Sterling note.
“My last one—”
“This won’t do, Professor. Living in a Muggle community, how can you not keep some Muggle currency on hand? Christmas is still two days away, are we going to eat dirt tonight?”
Watching Vaughn snatch his money while still nagging and complaining, Snape almost couldn’t resist drawing his wand.
Of course, there was food stored in the house. Normally, the dozens of Pounds Sterling he exchanged each time he returned wouldn’t even be spent.
But ever since he cooked for Vaughn the day before yesterday, this detestable fellow had started to disdain him.
The Pounds Sterling he had exchanged in the summer also began to rapidly depreciate.
“Shut up!”
“Okay… By the way, Professor, I’m going to check on the werewolf at the warehouse. You don’t need to make lunch for me. Of course, if you’re willing to eat out, remember to notify me.”
“Get out!”
Smiling at Snape, who was on the verge of losing control, Vaughn left the room and strolled through the remote and dilapidated town with his hands in his pockets.
The industry that was once the lifeblood of Muggles had withered away in the 1990s due to England’s economic transformation. The town, named after charcoal, had naturally become a tear of the times.
If it were spring or summer, perhaps there would have been some signs of life, but in the dead of winter, several feet of snow made the not-so-spacious street blocks appear deserted.
Rows of dilapidated brick houses, their dark windows as lifeless as Snape’s eyes.
The winding river that ran through the town couldn’t even be washed clean of its filth by ice and snow. Withered weeds drooped desolately on both banks, and piles of trash were stacked by the riverside, filling the air with a pungent odor.
“This is where Snape and the Evans sisters grew up?”
Vaughn shook his head. He had memories of Cokeworth. A long time ago, a young Snape met Lily Evans by the pond near this town.
That was probably the happiest moment of Snape’s life…
After all, he had a hot-tempered, abusive Muggle father. Snape’s Pure-blood ideology might have been formed in his childhood. His mother, Eileen Prince, came from the prestigious Prince family, a genuine Pure-blood, while his father strongly disliked this fact.
No one knew why a Pure-blood witch would marry a temperamental Muggle, but without a doubt, their relationship eventually broke down, and they vented their resentment on each other and their child.
During the days Vaughn stayed in the hut, he didn’t see a single family photo.
Clearly, the childhood trauma had not yet dissipated from Snape’s mind. Since returning, he had become increasingly despondent, often sitting on the sofa in a daze.
That kind of mindset wasn’t healthy. Vaughn felt he should make him “livelier.”
Whistling cheerfully, shaking the 5 Pounds Sterling in his hand, Vaughn walked a long way to a restaurant, which was the only place in town serving breakfast.
After buying a cup of coffee, a sausage sandwich, and fried eggs, and slowly finishing his meal, Vaughn went to the other side of town, to a nearly abandoned warehouse area.
The town’s impending industrial bankruptcy had long since rendered them unable to afford leasing these spaces.
Vaughn rented one of the buildings to temporarily house his test subjects. The only concern was interference from Muggles.
This was because there wasn’t even a doorman.
Passing through the gaping doors of the warehouse district, he entered the warehouse he had rented.
Vaughn saw a few young Muggle thugs loitering dazed outside the warehouse.
Under the combined effect of the Peace Town Charm, the Banishing Charm, and the Confundus Charm, these Muggles could not get close to the warehouse, nor could they leave.
This was to prevent them from spreading any strange ghost stories.
Vaughn wove false memories for each of them before letting them go.
Entering the warehouse, Vaughn turned on the electric lights and, looking at the seven werewolves remaining in the empty space, smiled and asked, “Did everyone rest well last night?”
The strong light stimulated their eyes, which had already adapted. A middle-aged man dressed as a vagrant, closest to the door, got up and said with a bitter smile:
“Not bad, at least we’re still alive…”
Like the others around him, he was down on his luck.
His trench coat, which he had clearly worn for a long time, was faded and frayed, with over a dozen patches, but it was still considered neat.
Since Vaughn had used up the other eight of Greyback’s lackeys the day before yesterday and brought the remaining seven wandering werewolves here, giving them limited freedom.
This middle-aged man had started to take meticulous care of himself, trying to appear like a person, not livestock!
His eyes were no longer as numb as they were at first.
Because, through the days of interaction, he had come to understand what Vaughn was doing—
Vaughn had never hidden anything from them when talking with Snape.
He lowered his head slightly: “Greetings, Mr. Weasley.”
After William White, the other vagrants greeted Vaughn one by one, their eyes regaining a spark like William White’s.
Vaughn smiled, observing the vagrants whose attitudes had changed, “Gentlemen, have you finished the forms I asked you to fill out yesterday?”
“Yes, Mr. Weasley, they are all here.”
William brought over a stack of forms and handed them to Vaughn with both hands.
The forms were not complicated, just asking them to fill in their life history and personal information. Vaughn flipped through them casually: “Hmm… Mr. White, are you a Muggle?”
“Yes, 5 years ago, on a full moon night, I was attacked and infected by a werewolf on my way home from work…” William White said, a pained expression appearing on his gaunt face.
“Hmm, you mentioned a wife and daughter in the form. How long has it been since you last saw them?”
“5 years… ever since I transformed for the first time and almost hurt them…”
The weary middle-aged man’s thin shoulders trembled, and tears fell.
Vaughn nodded, not wanting to pry further into his wounds, and began to look through the other people’s information, occasionally asking a question.
Soon, all seven forms were reviewed.
Vaughn snapped his fingers, and a silent, wandless Fire-Making Spell quickly engulfed and burned them.
He paced back and forth in front of them, and the seven men watched him quietly, their eyes glinting with an unidentifiable light.
At one point, Vaughn stopped: “Gentlemen, I believe you understand what I’m doing. That’s right, I’m trying to cure lycanthropy…”
Although they already knew, hearing Vaughn confirm this fact now, the werewolf vagrants still cried out in excitement.
The youngest among them, only 17 years old, a werewolf named Barnaby, couldn’t help but burst into tears.
He had no surname because he was infected by Greyback at a very young age. The child didn’t understand his abnormality and wasn’t prepared. The first time he transformed, his parents were bitten to death by him…
The experiences of the others were similar to Barnaby’s. In comparison, William White was actually the luckiest.
After waiting quietly for a moment, allowing them to vent their emotions, Vaughn continued: “…Of course, this potion, which I’ve named Wolfsbane Potion, is far from mature. The currently confirmed recipe can probably only allow you to maintain rationality during your full moon transformations—”
“That’s enough, Mr. Weasley.”
William White couldn’t help but interrupt, his cloudy eyes filled with tears. “We are not like those lunatics of Greyback’s. Because we fear losing control, fear hurting others, we don’t dare to live among people, and we don’t dare to approach any inhabited places.”
“For us, just being able to maintain rationality is enough. At least we don’t have to be afraid of seeing innocent people’s blood and flesh around us when we regain consciousness.”
“You are a noble person, and perhaps you have your own pursuits, but for people like us, being able to pass through transformations with rationality is enough.”
“…”
Vaughn was speechless for a moment.
Was he noble? At least he himself didn’t feel so. Noble people wouldn’t develop potions for fame and fortune, nor would they conduct vivisection without scruples to develop potions.
However, to say he was completely selfish without any goodwill wouldn’t be true. At least Vaughn knew he sympathized with these vagrants.
Although his posture might have been a bit condescending.
But he couldn’t fully empathize with their pain either.
However, this conversation gave Vaughn a deeper understanding of the despair of the werewolf vagrants. He had dismembered eight of Greyback’s lackeys in front of them.
A normal person would probably never call him a “noble person.”
But in the eyes of these vagrants, Vaughn gave them hope, so his actions seemed to be subconsciously beautified or forgotten by them.
How desperate must they be to be so eager!
Feeling unable to comprehend, Vaughn put aside the thoughts in his head, nodded to the seven men, and said, “In that case, would you be willing to do me a favor?”
“Please tell us.”
“I will let you go. You will go and find werewolves who you believe are worth saving, the more the better, preferably wizards who have been transformed. You can contact me this way when the time comes.”
Saying this, he took out a piece of parchment and handed it to William White.
“Have wizards write on it with their wands, and I will see it.”
William White took it with trembling hands, and he asked with trepidation and anticipation, “Sir, how can I make those werewolves believe me?”
Vaughn smiled. “After Christmas, you will see it in the newspapers.”
William White, carrying his mission and hope, left with the other werewolves. Vaughn went to the administrator to return the warehouse. As he walked out of the warehouse area, he saw Snape standing like a ghost under a roadside tree.
He had cast a spell on the warehouse earlier to control the test subjects, so he could naturally sense any disturbances.
He gazed into the distance where the werewolves had left, frowning slightly. “What do you intend to do?”
“Let them contact other werewolves, nothing more.”
Clearly, Snape didn’t think it was “nothing more.” He stared at Vaughn. “Do you know who this behavior reminds me of?”
Vaughn spread his hands. “Voldemort?”
“…” Snape took a deep breath, suppressing the unease in his heart. “Yes, it’s exactly like when Vol— when he had Death Eaters recruit Pure-blood families.”
“But the purpose is different, Professor. I’m just doing it as a precaution.”
“What do you mean?”
Vaughn didn’t answer him directly, but retorted, “Professor, how do you think werewolves will get the Wolfsbane Potion I’m developing?”
“They can buy it…” Saying this, Snape suddenly stopped, realizing the problem.
Vaughn sighed. “Yes, Professor, they can’t afford it. You’ve seen their living conditions. They live in isolation, like savages. Where would they get the money to buy medicine?”
