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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 79: Title
Fenrir roared. His fangs shone under the dim lights of the hall while his nails became longer and sharper than scalpels. With lightning speed, he stepped forward and slashed across Morgan's chest from side to side under the watchful eyes of everyone present.
Loud gasps could be heard in anticipation of the macabre spectacle.
However, Fenrir's deadly claws never found their target. What they found instead was the thick black mist that had replaced Morgan's physical body.
This was one of the innate abilities she had gained when she performed the ritual that transformed her into the dark creature she is now.
"That will never work." Morgan's face materialized briefly from the mist and spoke. "You had a better shot in your human form."
Fenrir was visibly startled by the sudden change. But not willing to give up, he attacked again. In his werewolf form, his instincts became more intense and impossible to ignore. Right now, his rage and bloodthirst were the ones taking control of his actions, making him pounce like a wild beast.
He swiftly struck at Morgan's face, but once more, he encountered nothing solid to hit.
The mist then began to move in unnatural ways. Some of it moved behind Fenrir while the rest wrapped around the werewolf's head.
As the dark cloud gained a human form, a hand shot out and grasped Fenrir by the neck, raising him up in the air while producing a series of crunching sounds that made everyone flinch and want to look away.
Fenrir began to whimper and moved his arms around, digging his claws into Morgan's arm and drawing some of her blood.
The only downside of her mist form was that, while being immune to physical damage, she was also unable to cause much harm. To do that, she had to at least transform part of her body into flesh.
However, despite the deep gashes being done to her arm, she did not let go of Fenrir's neck and only increased her grip more and more, until…
Snap.
They all heard it clearly, the moment Fenrir's neck finally gave up and broke.
The werewolf went limp, hanging from her bleeding arm. Only then did Morgan let go of him, allowing his corpse to collapse on the ground.
She examined her arm. The cuts were quickly healing. She would be fine in a minute or two. The blood that she lost would have to be replaced.
Her eyes went to Harry. "I'm done here. What about you?"
Harry tapped his staff on the floor.
All the plants he had summoned into the Great Hall began to recede back to where they came from. The bodies of the fifteen werewolves now rested quietly and unmoving.
Harry turned to look at Morgan. "I'm done as well." As he said this, the Staff of Annwn vanished into thin air.
He walked up to her and conjured a white cloth that he then used to gently cover the wounds on her arm.
"It's almost healed," Morgan pointed out.
"I still don't like to see you bleed," Harry responded as he finished adjusting the temporary bandage. With a smooth gesture of his other hand, he made all of the blood that had landed on the floor disappear without a trace.
"What a gentleman." Morgan smiled. She was going to do the same, but appreciated the sentiment. "Speaking of bleeding…"
"Yes, I saw it." Harry glanced at the Headmaster. Professor McGonagall was helping him stand up. He appeared to be a bit shaken by the loss of blood, but was fine otherwise.
"A small man transformed into a rat and took with him a vial of his blood," Morgan told him.
"They wanted his blood… that had to be the whole reason for this attack." Harry began to ponder about what had just happened and who could be the one behind it all.
"A ritual?" Morgan was doing the same thing.
Harry nodded. "It must be for that Dark Lord. Your previous actions may have forced him to act in a more reckless manner."
Morgan shrugged. She didn't put too much thought into the man named Voldemort, not yet considering him a big threat.
"Ehm… excuse me." Professor Flitwick approached the two of them.
"Professor." Harry greeted the man. "It appears that the threat has passed. But I would suggest taking the students into their common rooms. This is not a spectacle for young eyes."
"Are they?…" Flitwick pointed at the werewolves' bodies spread across the hall. "Are they all dead?"
"Of course," Harry responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Were you expecting me to leave any of those wild beasts alive so they could attack some of the children?"
"No… of course n—"
"Mister Potter." Moody approached them. "That was one impressive piece of magic. Took care of all the beasts together. I've never seen something like that." His magical eye moved to Morgan. "You too, Madam. Fenrir Greyback was considered one of our most dangerous criminals."
"Professor Moody, correct?" Harry said. "The real one this time."
"Aye!" he said proudly. "You two have my gratitude for saving my life."
"No need for that," said Harry. "That man… the one who turned into a rat and escaped. Do you know who that was?"
Moody's expression darkened. "I do, unfortunately… that was Peter Pettigrew. Another one of our most wanted criminals. He caused a mess in the school two years ago and managed to escape. And now… that damn rat is bloody elusive."
"And does he work for that person? You know, the one people call You-Know-Who?"
Moody flinched and looked around to make sure no one heard that. He responded in a whisper. "Aye… we believe that he is one of his most loyal followers."
Harry and Morgan exchanged a look. Their assumptions had proven correct. This whole ordeal had been caused by the man called Voldemort in an attempt to acquire the blood of someone specific, no doubt for some important ritual.
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