"Can you tell me why you're here?"
A small-statured wizard sat tensely in the chair. "I'm here on Wolfman's recommendation. He said you're a wise man, running the world's largest multinational company, and you're the person that sir trusts the most; not only that, you are also, also..."
He stole glances at the person opposite him.
"Also your kind," Lupin added. "Yes," the man said. Lupin looked at the wizard kindly. It was their first meeting, yet there was a familiar feeling, perhaps because the other wrapped himself in worn robes, cloaks, and scarves, his face sickly with strands of white hair, eyes filled with unease. How similar it was to his own past self.
"Mr. Lupin," encouraged by Lupin's gentle gaze, the man spoke more smoothly, "I've lived in solitude in the wild for over a decade, only recently hearing about the outside world from a group of explorers. It's unbelievable, like a dream, for people like us on the fringe..." He paused.
Lupin waited for him to stop, then nodded in agreement, "I've seen many cases like yours, coming here full of sorrow, probably the most helpless expressions in history, at a loss with the world's changes, but leaving satisfied after our conversations, starting a new life. From what I know, they're doing well now."
"That's right!" the man said eagerly, hope shining in his eyes, "Wolfman said the same! He said you have a way, a way to completely transform werewolves."
Lupin smiled.
"I don't recall having any secret remedies. Indeed, I've extracted some practical techniques from werewolf transformation magic, almost one for everyone in the werewolf community, facilitating mutual learning; I also founded a werewolf rights association, where, by following its rules, you can get a wolfsbane potion for a small fee every month; incidentally, the association is now training its own potion masters, and we've mastered the preparation of four out of the seven wolfsbane potions. These benefits are available to everyone, no need to see me to receive them."
The man looked at Lupin puzzled, slightly leaning forward in a probing manner, "But I thought, there must be something special about you? Otherwise, why would all werewolves respect you? Well, just for the above reasons alone is worthy of respect, but these two kinds of 'respect' are completely different, I can feel it."
"Oh," Lupin smiled lightly, "I'm honored by your trust. Indeed, I have some stories and a few suggestions that might help you better integrate into the outside world, but at the end of the day, there's nothing special. On the contrary...I'd love to hear your story."
As Tonks entered from outside, she saw Lupin and the wizard coming out of the study, just like countless times before, the visitor's steps lighter as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
Lupin handed the man a business card.
"You can contact Miss Temple, she'll take good care of you, her work ability is beyond doubt."
"Thank you, Mr. Lupin, thank you so much." The wizard said gratefully, looking at Tonks who approached, "You must be Mrs. Lupin? Even someone as isolated as me has heard of your love story, truly enviable, Mrs. Lupin at first glance appears to be a kind-hearted person..."
"I've noticed," Tonks raised an eyebrow after the wizard left, "I get this 'kind-hearted' comment from your friends, as if that's why I'm with you!"
"I know. It's because of love," Lupin said seriously, "But to other werewolves, love is a luxury, let alone having such a beautiful, smart witch as a wife."
Tonks hummed happily.
Lupin opened his arms, embracing her just like at their wedding eleven years ago, unchanged. He was content with everything now—a smart and considerate wife, a healthy and lively son (with no signs of lycanthropy, inheriting his mother's Metamorphmagus ability), a godson (Harry's youngest son, Albus), a bunch of relatives and friends, a respectable career and social status, nothing left to be desired.
He was incredibly grateful for accepting Dumbledore's invitation back then.
Since then, he had always been 'receiving'. His heart was full, hence he had the energy to do something for his kind over the years—including the werewolf rights association and simplifying werewolf transformation magic, as well as almost weekly study room talks.
Over the years, werewolves have mustered the courage to come out from the mountains, forests, and wilderness, observing the strange environment with timid and vigilant hearts. As possibly the world's most famous werewolf, Lupin had helped and comfort
ed countless people.
The warm moment didn't last long, as a ten-year-old boy ran in, stomping on the stairs loudly. Lupin and Tonks exchanged looks, turning to their child.
"Dad, Mum, Sirius asked when you're coming over!" Teddy Lupin shouted.
"Right away," Tonks said sternly, "if you stop causing trouble."
"But if I didn't speak up, you'd definitely keep hugging each other without end!" Teddy exclaimed.
Tonks pouted, looking the boy up and down.
"What's with your hair?"
Teddy's hair was a dazzling red, different from the ginger color at breakfast. But he inherited his mother's ability to change appearance at will, including hair color, so her question was essentially nitpicking. He shook his head proudly, "I met a red-haired girl, silly, I told her I was a relative of the Weasleys!"
Tonks and Lupin looked at each other.
"What's the girl's name?"
"Isn't it little Rosalie?"
"How could it be?" Teddy looked incredulous, "Sirius spends at least half the month with her visiting our house, and the other half we meet at Harry's godfather's house—"
"Was it Victoire?" Lupin asked.
Teddy pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "It seems to be this name."
"Oh my," Tonks said, "That's Bill and Fleur's child, you played together when you were little."
Ten minutes later, when Lupin came out of the living room, he saw Tonks and Teddy, mother and son, staring at each other with hair colors changing like a carousel. This was Tonks' specialty, but Teddy wasn't to be outdone; his first skill since birth was this, even before saying his first word.
Leaning against the windowsill, Lupin watched this scene with utmost satisfaction. Ten minutes later, Teddy gave in, his hair reluctantly settling on black. In contrast, Tonks appeared triumphant.
"Let's go." She said cheerfully.
Outside, the sun was shining, and the hotel was packed with tourists. They reached the third-floor banquet hall, and before entering, they heard deafening music. Lupin felt a bit dazed, a bad premonition forming in his mind, which was confirmed the next second.
Sirius was joyfully singing on stage with a guitar, dressed as a hippie; behind him was Bill, his fingers smoothly running over the keyboard, his ponytail swaying left and right, with tiny fan earrings occasionally visible; Rolf's drumming was clearly struggling to keep up, seemingly out of his depth, Lupin guessed if he had arrived earlier, he might have been sitting there, but more likely he would be like Neville, holding a saxophone, looking lost as if he had bought a standing ticket for the stage.
Lupin felt an urge to close his eyes.
It was Sirius' 'Hairy Band'. More unfortunately, he realized he was also a member of the band (involuntarily). Even the band name was Sirius' way of teasing him with his new nickname 'Hairy Child King'.
The audience had varied expressions. The performers' families seemed to be holding back laughter, perhaps only Luna genuinely enjoyed it, her arms each holding a rainbow-feathered bird, her head blissfully nodding to the rhythm; the entire Weasley family sat together, focused, Ginny desperately pulling a boy, James, trying to curb his burgeoning desire to perform; Mrs. Weasley and Fleur both fixated on Bill's swinging ponytail, but Lupin dared say their thoughts were completely different—it was written all over their faces! Severus sat in a corner, mouth slightly open; beside him, a portly Slughorn was cheerfully chatting with Draco and Astoria; at the next table, students Sirius had taught were enthusiastically whistling.
"Fairly good," grumbled Moody near the door, "What are they singing?"
"A great victory," Lupin said reflexively.
"Exactly," Moody laughed, singing along with the tune, his raspy voice making Sirius' singing seem more beautiful by comparison.
When Harry, the organizer of the banquet, arrived, what he saw was a chorus of performers, with Sirius and Bill's stage presence becoming even rougher, leaving him confused. Did his godfather really have a talent for singing? Didn't Amelia say only Kreach praised him?
Harry took that as 'unprincipled flattery', just like if he asked Dobby, Dobby would definitely think his singing was unparalleled.
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