Werewolves at Hogwarts

Chapter 37

Stevie Robinson apparated into her office at 'Robinsons The Apothecary'. At eight o'clock in the morning the employees were only just beginning to arrive and open the shop for business. The place was well established, having been founded by her four greats grandfather on the corner of Cutlass Avenue and Knockturn Alley. For years they had the reputation of carrying everything a Potions Master could want and they had served all the great Potions Masters, including Voldemort's own, although they didn't speak of that. That was where their troubles had really begun, with that madman and his need to control everyone under him.

Her grandfather, the moron, had refused to teach some young fool called Tom Riddle, not even taking him on as a counter boy. Next thing the family knew there was a Mors mordre over the shop and her grandfather had been spread all over the counters in more pieces than it was thought possible.

Her father had declared for the Death Eaters - not openly - but he had supported them faithfully in their quest for potions ingredients, particularly when Snape did the shopping. In fact, her father had tried to sell his knowledge of Snape for a free pardon, only to find Snape had been playing a deep game of his own, the bastard! And so the shop had fallen into her hands, complete with the many centuries of black market dealings; knowledge the family had accumulated over the centuries. If an ingredient was rare and hard to come by, someone in the vast network of brigands and pirates would know where to get it, for a price.

It was that small factor that had caused Stevie to go into business for herself, a very lucrative business indeed but dangerous. Since the SVW had killed off the more radical and the more conservative elements of wizarding society, the bloody moderates had managed to gain a majority and change the laws on so many things. Now it was illegal, even the stupid Muggles no longer practiced whaling which meant they couldn't even disguise their Selkie hunts as commercial whaling any more. Hunting Manatee or Dugong was no longer allowed except by the native peoples of the lands they lived by, which meant salt mer-people were virtually out of range too, while fresh water mer-people were now very rare.

When the werewolves began to get civilised during the war, it seemed like the potions business was going to go into crisis, most of the vampire and veela families having fled to the continent or been killed as Death Eater sympathisers. Since Britain and particularly the Ministry had been the greatest suppliers of werewolf parts to the world, it was a disaster in the making but then she had found the recipe for precipitating werewolf change in a very old book of potions inherited from her family. It seemed like an omen!

Even better, she had been promoted to Ministry Representative which gave her access to the registries and the crime reports, her husband being in a position to enforce the laws when and where it suited them. Many of the werewolves taken into the ministry for misdemeanours had quietly and unsuspectingly disappeared only to turn up in budding potions students' cauldrons. That irony had made her laugh her head off as they listened to the earnest boys and girls pleading for law reform, helping her keep her temper in the face of their stupidity! God she hated werewolves, and vampires, and stupid bleeding hearts, and incompetent underlings! Damn Tom Riddle for killing off all the intelligent members of the dissatisfied and disaffected.

And now a werewolf had undone her! Remus bloody Lupin had been a thorn in her side for years, turning up in her year at Hogwarts while she was a student. He had then paraded as a teacher while her father had tried to improve their fortunes through the Dark Lord. Now he had not only taken one of their fellow board members to the tune of one hundred thousand Galleons, he had also thwarted any number of attempts to kill him, to take over the leadership of the packs and had failed to Turn Shacklebolt when given the opportunity. One of his ruddy pack members had even managed to rescue him alive and that was the straw that broke the camel's back!

Roddy had apparated in early this morning with his wild, hysterical story of rescues and arrests, of turncoat wolves and newly Turned friends. She had tried to get Mr Red and Mr Black out of Ron Weasley's clutches but that had turned to disaster and even her own Minister had turned against her, forcing her to resign. Rod wanted her to flee the country to avoid arrest but how could she leave the family business? It was all she had, when all was said and done, and she was not prepared to give it up without one more fight!

A movement on the floor of the warehouse reminded her that her people were coming to work soon and she stirred herself, turning to look out the back window of the office over the huge warehouse she had taken a lease out on, on the strength of the werewolf money. There was too much at stake to just leave it and run, and so she would fight. Decision made, she gathered up her wand plus half a dozen flasks of incendiary solution and opened the office door ready to face the day.

~~*~~

"She up there," Tracker said softly to the girl beside him. "See, there be her robes and I smell her on the air. She fears but is determined. She hates but is fiercely proud."

"You're really good," Luanna said equally softly to the small, balding man before using the mobile phone Ron Weasley had given her. It was an odd little device but very efficient for this sort of work.

"How many entrances can you see to the office?" Ron asked his eyes on the spot. "And does Tracker think there is anyone with her?"

"Only one entrance, Sir, leading onto a balcony that goes around three sides of the suspended office and Tracker says she is alone."

"Thanks, Jones, pull back now."

Judy Duncan and Laura DiBilliot strolled into the front door of the shop, arm in arm and began to browse the potions ingredients laid out on the shelves. One of the two assistants came forward to offer his help to the two women, who seemed to be trying to fill a potions list one of them held. Some of the ingredients were quite rare and he had to get a stepladder to reach a couple of the bottles.

While he was occupied, Seaun Molloy and Garth Rice entered the shop and went immediately to corral the other assistant, occupying his attention with their questions and inconsistencies. Once the assistants were covered, the rest of the squad moved in through the huge double doors at the back of the warehouse, moving stealthily between the rows of shelves and stacks of bales that took up most of the floor space. Everyone froze in position as the woman in the office window high above the floor rose to her feet and disappeared from sight.

"Quarry on the move," Luanna warned as the Robinson woman came around the balcony and began to descent the stairs with a hurried and determined stride.

Ron stepped forward into the cleared space and almost smiled as the woman recognised him with a snarl.

"Get off my property you, you...."

"Mrs Stevie Robinson-Talbot? I would like you to accompany me to Auror headquarters to answer some questions, if you don't mind."

"And you can go... Stupefy!" she roared angrily, and then screeched in fury when she could not apparate.

Ron cast protego on himself and jumped aside as another hex flew toward him. Someone yelled as a small bottle arced across the warehouse and burst into flames as it hit a stack of bales. Another flew left and smashed over a red clad figure, the screams and smells almost making Ron throw up as he ran for cover. A roar of pure rage echoed over the warehouse and a huge red and plaid figure seemed to levitate as he leaped upward, landing on the balcony around the office with a solid clang. A second figure leaped up after him, darting forward to catch the bottle the woman tossed hurriedly over her shoulder in their direction. Before Stevie Robinson could move again, the larger red head grabbed her by the throat and hurled her bodily away from the stairs.

"Oh bloody hell!" Ron snapped in exasperation and quickly cast a cushioning charm under the hurling body, catching her in mid flight. A sticky web from McDonald and a second cushioning charm from Morgaine pretty much guaranteed she was not going to hurt herself on the landing.

Stevie Robinson was not going to give up and continued to try and hurl her incendiaries even as she arced helplessly in free space. Twisting and turning, she tried to lob one onto Weasley's head as she passed over him, only to be hampered by the sticky web that her thrashing was tying even more tightly around her. Ron dodged the flying vial and jumped back even further when it exploded into flame, a splash touching his robe and setting it on fire. Someone called oppressum and the flames went out a second before another spot fire broke out. Workers were yelling and trying to control the flames as their boss landed ungracefully on her arse in the middle of an aisle and a tall old figure put his foot on her wand hand, pointing a very steady wand at her heart.

"Get off me, you old animal!" she shrieked, trying to skitter away from him.

"I may be an old animal, but I am at least a live one, no thanks to you and your henchmen," Hayborn said softly, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Do behave yourself now or I might forget myself enough to take a little bite out of you. How would you like to join our ranks as a full, if junior member, my dear?" he asked pleasantly and laughed aloud as her shrieks reached a new and hysterical climax.

"Thanks Mr McCarthy, I have her now," Mike Luskow said cheerfully, his partner casting a body bind on the prisoner.

"Ah, such a pity. She would have made a very nice quarry for one of our hunts next Moon," the old man said regretfully while stepping back so the Aurors could do their duty.

"You really have a nasty mind there," Ron said as the woman was taken away and her workers lined up for questioning.

"Not really, we just tend to treat as we find, eye for an eye and all that stuff. So, Ron Weasley, who is Moony's friend, what do we do now?"

"Now we go through the warehouse and see how many non-human bodies are concealed here and how many illegal ingredients we can find. Laura DiBilliot and her people will go through most of the stuff but you, as werewolf representative, will have to identify anything you can. There is a vampire representative coming in as well as a veela to assist with their people too. The merfolk and the Selkie folk simply chose to leave anything we find alone, they do not bury their dead but leave them to the sea or the waters."

The old man nodded and sighed deeply. "I have been told to do what I can to identify people, but if I can't then the pieces are to be left where they are. We do not want to cripple the potions industry, just stop the murders."

"Thank you, the Wizarding College of Potions will be grateful for your understanding," Laura said quietly. "As much as I hate to confess it, fully Turned werewolf ingredients are critical to a lot of healing potions, particularly those that induce strength and vigour, or assist healing."

"Yes, young lady, I understand that they are. I think that, once this wave of madness is over, your people and my people should negotiate a deal or two. I can't see the Potions Blender doing without his bits and pieces without some sort of protest."

"'The Potions Blender'?" Laura questioned as she took the arm the old man offered so regally.

"Er, Professor Snape, I believe he is called."

"Oh Merlin no, he'd never accept doing without gracefully. He throws the most spectacular tantrums of any of the Masters, and has even been known to hurl empty cauldrons into walls, when he has a snit on!"

Gossiping and laughing, the unlikely pair strolled away, trailed by their faithful guards.

~~*~~

Samuel Parkinson stood in the portkey terminal, his foot tapping impatiently. He had appointed his brother Jorgen to represent the company as the Chief Operations Manager this very morning and was now on his way out of the country as fast as he could grab a portkey. He was planning to lay low in France for a few months until the heat from the potions racket eased off and then he would come back with some sort of disguise. It would not be the first time a member of his family had wandered around with another face for the rest of his life.

He wondered how he had fallen so far under Stevie Robinson's influence, following her lead, putting his hard earned money into her scheme and - well, he had to admit - reaping the rewards. It had been lucrative too, until the biggest shipment of all had been intercepted, but that's what greed did for you. Still, he had managed to sneak into Ron Weasley's office and remove as much of the written evidence against him as possible. And he had copied Robinson's legers that recorded the list of pirate trails and underground ways illegal potions ingredients - and indeed illegal potions - were smuggled into the country. All he had to do was set up shop in one of the North African countries and run the same routes from the other end, pushing goods into England, instead of pulling them. It would all work out, he was sure!

"Mr Samuel Parkinson? Your portkey is ready, sir," the pleasant faced woman said with a smile and a bow. "This way please."

The portkey was a small copper disk stamped with the British Queen's head, a penny or some such coin. He held it tightly, watched the girl count him down, and felt the familiar tugging at his navel. He was free! He had done it! France, here he came!

"Mr Samuel Parkinson?" The voice was accented but it was not a French accent and no portkey station attendant would be allowed to wear leather pants like those. "Welcome to Bucharest, Romania. I am Detective Constable Drajan Murovski of the Werewolf Aurory and I am arresting you for the attempted murder of the werewolves Moony, Lunar and Petal. Also as accessory to the murder of werewolves Wind Biter, Singer, Horfund, Cliff Jumper and a number of other persons yet to be identified. Also for the murder of the vampires Julius, Sonja and Drami le Gonovski, Regis and Liona Melgovitz, and Serge and Vadne Moytevskavich, plus their retainers and servants. You will be taken to the Werewolf Aurory and there charged, and then taken to the Vampirium this evening and also arraigned. Please come with me."

"But, but I am a British citizen!" Parkinson gasped in horror.

"And I'm a werewolf, also Lunar and Petal's out-law and I want to bite you in the worst possible way, but I promised my boss I wouldn't. So be grateful for the mercy of the Romanian Justice System." He grinned showing all his teeth as he confiscated the man's wand and herded him out into the street.

~~*~~

It had been ten hours since the operation had begun, ten long gruelling hours since they had apparated Remus into the clean white infirmary and a team of mediwizards and witches had spirited him away. Drajan had spoken briefly to the medical staff then guided him into a reasonably comfortable waiting room before going off to make some calls, he had said. A mediwitch had come in and asked Snape quite solicitously if he would like her to darken the room to eliminate the sunlight. It had taken a few moments to realise she thought he might be a vampire, and he had only managed to shake his head, too tired and upset to feel even a tinge of disgust at the assumption.

He wasn't sure how long had passed before a large blonde woman had arrived and handed him a wrapped parcel of clothing and shown him to a bathroom. Her English wasn't good but she had indicated that he should clean up and change as he did not smell too pleasant. He had to agree as cleaning spells only went so far before soap and water was indicated. It was pleasing to find the robes she had brought were black and fairly comfortable, although the underclothes were purely wizarding, which was a little annoying. Still, he had to admit he felt a little more human once he was washed and dressed cleanly again. Someone had left him a plate of food under a warming charm, odd food unlike the usual things he ate, but tasty and filling. The actions of washing and eating helped fill in some of the dreaded dragging hours, rather than sitting worrying himself ill.

Drajan arrived back some indefinite time later and filled him in on the arrest he had just accomplished with a certain predatory relish. Snape listened and half smiled distractedly, forgetting him-self enough to remark that Samuel Parkinson had always been a snivelling little brat who was guaranteed to tattle tale and lie, if he got half a chance. Drajan laughed at his story then excused himself as he had to portkey back to England that evening to give evidence before the Wizengamot in the morning. Severus waved him away and sank back into his self-contemplating trance to try and will the time away.

Finally a door opened and a small, very old man came in and sank down into a chair beside Snape. He smiled and said something Snape did not understand, repeating it in German and then French, a language Snape did understand.

"Oh good, translation charms can be a bit unreliable when using medical terms. I am Lars Olafson, chief medical officer here at the Infirmus. I was part of the team assigned to treat the werewolf the Auror brought in. I must admit I have rarely seen a werewolf more injured, and have never seen one so sorely injured survive transition...."

"Twice," Snape said quietly. "He was badly beaten and most of the damage was done before Moon. He transformed while in the medical sack his students, high school students, conjured around him, then transformed back in the morning, before Drajan and I apparated him in."

"Remarkable! An extraordinary high school, ah Hogwarts, yes, and a very tenacious werewolf. We have done all we can for him and now it is a matter of rest, healing charms and potions until he is sound again. If he survives the night that is, so don't get too excited yet."

"Is there anything I can do for him?"

"If only you knew the secrets of the British fortifying potion? Their St Mungo's will not release their recipes to us," the old man joked tiredly.

Snape blinked in surprise. "Why do you want that rubbish? Wouldn't you be better off with Number Seven? It is werewolf specific. We use it in the infirmary at Hogwarts and now at Cardoul infirmary."

The old man narrowed his eyes. "There is a rumour about some miracle potion but nothing else. How do you know it exists?"

"I am Severus Snape, I invented it for Remus. Point me to your potions lab."