It was already dark when Kyle and Newt left the Black Forest.
The two of them stood in the long-awaited moonlight, with Newt still wearing a distressed expression as he complained that Kyle shouldn't have destroyed such a large area of the forest.
"This is the only way I could think of to keep the werewolves in check," Kyle explained, unfazed by having to repeat himself. "Only by showing absolute strength will they let go of their unrealistic fantasies."
"Didn't Professor Dumbledore say it himself? Hatred shouldn't be allowed to continue. If the werewolves show up on the battlefield this time, that idea will never come to fruition."
"I know what you're saying, but…" Newt sighed.
Of course, he understood that this was the best option—not only would it spare the lives of all the werewolves, but it would also deter them from getting involved in the war. It was the best of both worlds. And yet, he couldn't help but feel sorry for them.
How many Bowtruckles could have lived in such a vast forest…
Never mind, he told himself. At least it's not Fiendfyre, and with the Black Forest's unique topography, it should recover quickly.
Then another thought occurred to him. After Kyle had used the Plant Engorgement Charm, the plants that had grown several times larger would require significantly more nutrients. The thickened tree roots were like pumps, draining the surrounding soil of its nourishment.
Even without the Fire-Making Charm, the vegetation in that area would likely wither and die over time.
Whether or not that's the case, at least it makes me feel a little better, Newt thought.
The two of them continued walking for a while, neither seeming in any particular hurry to return.
"Are you really going to help Mr. Lupin push the Werewolf Act?" Newt suddenly asked.
"If I can, I don't mind lending a hand," Kyle replied. "Remus has already proven that even werewolves can live as ordinary wizards if they grow up in a normal environment. If he could do it, then there's no reason why others can't… They just lack the right guidance."
"You do realize how difficult this will be," Newt said. "Wizards' prejudice against werewolves has been ingrained for centuries—it's practically instinct at this point. This isn't something a war can change, even if the werewolves stand unwaveringly on our side."
"No one wants their children in the same classroom as a werewolf. If I'm not mistaken, Dumbledore must have deliberately concealed Lupin's condition when he accepted him into Hogwarts."
"That's right," Kyle nodded. "That's why I said the likelihood of the Werewolf Act passing is only about one percent."
Hatred that has persisted for hundreds, even thousands, of years isn't something that can be easily resolved. The process would take a long time.
Not to mention, just a week ago, newspapers were still filled with reports of werewolves attacking wizards. The public had already accepted, without question, that werewolves had sided with the Death Eaters. At this point, switching allegiances wouldn't make much of a difference in their eyes.
"So…" Newt looked at Kyle. "You lied to the werewolves just to keep them calm?"
"Of course not," Kyle said. "If I only wanted to eliminate the threat they pose, wouldn't it be easier to just kill them? Under the circumstances, it would be simpler than drinking water—so why bother?"
"So you really do want to help them?" Newt pressed.
"Not really," Kyle answered, glancing back toward the Black Forest. In the darkness, he could just make out the faint glimmer of eyes watching from within.
"After all, it's not Lupin, nor me, nor even the Minister of Magic who can make the biggest difference in getting this law passed—it's the werewolves themselves."
"So I won't go out of my way like Remus Lupin. Something like this could take years, even decades, and I don't want to waste my time on it. But if I can help him a little along the way, I don't mind."
"Really?" Newt asked, giving him a knowing look. "Is that truly what you think?"
"Well," Kyle nodded, "at least for now."
"Very wise," Newt remarked.
They arrived at a hillside overlooking the Black Forest.
"What about the werewolf in Knockturn Alley?" Kyle asked. "What's he like?"
"Not good," Newt said.
"According to Wampus Cat, that werewolf is the one most like Fenrir Greyback—he takes pleasure in biting people, even when it's not a full moon. That's why the Death Eaters stationed him in Knockturn Alley instead of simply discarding him in the Black Forest to wait for orders."
"In just one month, he's already bitten five people—three wizards and two Muggles."
"And that's only what Jorman knows—and he's been in the Black Forest most of the time. I'm sure the real number is higher."
"Well… what do you think?" Newt asked after a brief pause.
"It's not like it'll do any harm. Let's go take a look," Kyle said after a moment's thought. "If we can, we might even help Lupin a little."
"As you wish," Newt said with a smile, as if he were merely along for the ride—conveniently forgetting that he was the one who had brought Kyle to the Black Forest in the first place.
…
A few minutes later, in London.
With a crisp crackling sound, two figures appeared one after the other on a quiet street.
Since it was already late, the street was deserted, and nearly all the shops were closed. The only source of light flickered from an old sign in the middle of the street, blinking intermittently as if it had a faulty connection.
Kyle and Newt pushed the door open and stepped inside.
To be honest, Kyle had never seen the Leaky Cauldron so empty.
Behind the counter, the barman, Tom, was idly polishing glasses. At the sound of the door, he looked up and quickly straightened.
"Oh, Kyle..." Tom greeted him cheerfully, not recognizing Newt. "I thought you'd have graduated by now. What'll it be? Butterbeer? Or maybe a Firewhiskey?"
"Maybe next time, Tom. We've got other things to do," Kyle replied.
Tom's expression shifted visibly from surprise to disappointment, and he slumped back behind the counter.
"What's going on? Why is it so empty here?" Kyle asked curiously.
News of Voldemort's return had been around for a while now. Even at the height of the panic, people had still come to the Leaky Cauldron.
"You don't know?" Tom looked up at Kyle, puzzled, then explained, "Yesterday, the Dark Mark appeared over Dagonier's in Diagon Alley. The owner and three employees were killed."
Dagonier's?
Kyle thought for a moment but didn't recall the name. That wasn't surprising—there were so many shops in Diagon Alley, he couldn't possibly know them all. But that wasn't the important part.
The Death Eaters had attacked Diagon Alley. And they had killed a shop owner.
"Is there anything special about this... Dagonier's?" Kyle asked.
"Nothing in particular," Tom replied, still polishing the glass without looking up. "Just an ordinary witch. If anything, she ran a decent business modifying Muggle items. A lot of young wizards from Muggle families liked her shop."
"Why would the Death Eaters want to kill her?"
"I don't know," Tom said flatly. "Not like they ever need a reason." He finally looked up again. "If there's nothing else, best you head inside."
"I will," Kyle said before he and Newt made their way toward the backyard.
They stepped through the entrance into Diagon Alley.
It was just as deserted as the Leaky Cauldron. The long street was completely empty, shop doors locked on either side. Some windows had thick curtains drawn shut, leaving the buildings in total darkness.
But amidst the gloom, one shop stood out. Not only was it still open, but every light inside was blazing. Bright, colorful bulbs spun rapidly at the entrance, making it look like a full-blown party.
Kyle didn't even need to check the sign—there was only one place in Diagon Alley that would be so defiantly alive.
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
The shop was empty of customers, and as Kyle pushed the door open, the bell rang with a bright, cheerful chime.
"Welcome?"
"Oh, Fred, look who it is!" George's voice called out from upstairs as his head popped into view.
A moment later, Fred came bounding over.
"Kyle! And Mr. Scamander!" he said excitedly. "Are you done with your business?"
"Not quite," Kyle replied. "We're on our way to Knockturn Alley—just passing through."
"Our pleasure," Fred said with an exaggeratedly serious expression.
"What's all this about?" Kyle asked.
"Before that," Fred said, his face growing more serious as he pulled out his wand, "prove to me you're really you. Not some impostor using Polyjuice Potion."
"Hmmm…" Kyle thought for a moment before smirking. "When you were seven, you tried to trick Ron into signing an Unbreakable Vow and ended up getting suspended and flogged by Mr. Weasley for three hours. And when you were nine, you poured half a can of Polyjuice Potion into Percy's lunch on the train…"
"Stop!"
"Shut up, stop."
"We believe you!"
The twins rushed forward, hands up in surrender, cutting him off before he could say any more.
That was more than enough proof. No Death Eater would know things they'd done over ten years ago.
"Can you tell us now? What really happened?" Kyle asked again.
"It's just as you saw it," Fred said. "The Death Eaters want to recreate their old glory days, to make people fear them again, so they chose to attack Diagon Alley."
"And they succeeded," George added, setting a cup of hot cocoa in front of Newt. "We haven't sold a single product, not even for a Knut, since yesterday afternoon."
"What about mine?" Kyle asked, eyeing his movements with dissatisfaction.
"What about yours?"
"The hot cocoa."
"What hot cocoa? Oh, this," George said with an innocent expression. "This is a complimentary treat for first-time customers. Yours… ten Sickles, please."
"Ten Sickles?" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "The Three Broomsticks only charges eight."
"Then go ahead," Fred said, motioning toward the door.
"That's some real extortion," Kyle muttered, scowling, but he still pulled out a gold coin. "Change."
"Thanks," George said cheerfully, pocketing the Galleon. "Add nine Sickles, and you get a beef pie. That's a deal, isn't it?"
"Fine," Kyle said, realizing he was feeling a little hungry.
Soon, the pie arrived, and even Newt got a slice—without paying.
Kyle took a bite. The taste was unmistakable—exactly like the ones Mrs. Weasley always made. These two were running a scam.
Not that Fred and George cared in the slightest. They grinned as they happily dropped the Galleon into their money box.
"Great, today's our first sale."
While Kyle and Newt ate their pies, Fred moved to the shop door, locked it, and placed an intricate-looking Sneakoscope on a nearby shelf.
"This is one of our new products," George explained. "If someone near you starts feeling hostile, the Sneakoscope vibrates."
"So, what's next for you?"
"Knockturn Alley," Kyle said, finishing his pie and taking another sip of hot cocoa. "Remember what I mentioned earlier? There's a werewolf there, and we need to take care of it."
"A werewolf?" Fred frowned. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Yes," Kyle said. "Get me another piece of pie—I'm still hungry."
"I'm afraid not," George said with a shrug.
"We only brought two for a midnight snack," Fred added. "If you're not in a hurry, you could head to Grimmauld Place first. Mum would be happy to see you."
"Never mind. I'll wait until this is over," Kyle said, waving his hand. "What about the Order of the Phoenix? Any movement?"
"Yes, we're moving Harry," Fred whispered. "We plan to pick him up from Little Whinging tomorrow."
"How?" Kyle asked. "It's best not to use the Floo Network. The Death Eaters attacked the Department of Magical Transportation before—I wouldn't be surprised if they tampered with something."
"Don't worry, we won't," George assured him. "We're using Apparition."
"Speaking of which, you need to be careful of Pius Thicknesse at the Ministry."
"Thicknesse…" Kyle thought for a moment. "The acting head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"
"Yes, that's right."
"A couple of days ago, Thicknesse tried to make Apparition illegal, claiming it was to prevent You-Know-Who from capturing Harry."
"But we all know You-Know-Who doesn't follow Ministry laws."
"He just wanted to trap Harry," George said.
Kyle nodded. That was obvious enough—the Ministry's rules never applied to You-Know-Who or the Death Eaters.
"Wait. What do you mean tried?"
"Because he failed," Fred said with a grin. "Madam Amelia Bones—who was attacked by the Death Eaters—woke up and insisted on returning to the Ministry from St. Mungo's."
"As the official head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she immediately rejected the proposal."
"That's good," Kyle said. "But we can't be careless. The Death Eaters won't let this go."
"We know that, of course," George said. "Kingsley's protecting Amelia Bones now, making sure she isn't targeted again. As long as she's safe, the Ministry won't make any decisions that benefit the Death Eaters."
"Well, if there's any trouble, I can help," Kyle said, setting his suitcase on the table.
"Actually, I think we could use this to get Harry out as well. We could disguise ourselves as Muggle salesmen with Polyjuice Potion, then grab Harry and get him out as quickly as possible. That way, even if the Death Eaters are watching, they won't easily catch on."
"That's a good idea," Fred said, stroking his chin. "We should bring it up with Dad."
"But Kyle, we're moving Harry soon. Are you sure you'll be back in time?" George asked.
"I'll try my best," Kyle said.
Truthfully, he wasn't sure how long it would take to deal with the werewolf in Knockturn Alley. If luck was on his side and the target was easy to find, it might be over in ten minutes. But if the werewolf was good at hiding, in a place as chaotic as Knockturn Alley, it could take days.
"Then let's just keep it as a backup plan for now," Fred said.
He and George put on their jackets and stepped outside with Kyle, locking the shop behind them.
Kyle looked up at the giant, glowing sign, the colorful lights spinning in endless motion.
"Don't worry about it,"
"Diagon Alley always needs a bit of energy,"
The twins said with a grin.