Lupin leaned against the cold wall, his heart in turmoil.
Decades of despair, the sudden emergence of hope, fear of unknown magic, and a deep longing for a "normal" life clashed fiercely within him.
At last, he took a deep breath, a trace of determination appearing in his eyes.
"…I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore."
"You may."
Sagres stopped and turned back to look at him. "You should call Snape as well. This process requires his potion as both support and safeguard."
...
That night, in the Headmaster's Office.
The warm orange glow of the lamps filled the room, but the atmosphere was heavy.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, fingertips pressed together, listening intently as Sagres explained the plan in his calm, emotionless tone.
Snape stood in the shadows like a silent black statue, only the slight tightening of his lips betraying his inner turmoil.
"…Therefore, strictly speaking, this is not a cure in the traditional sense."
Sagres concluded, a complex human model woven from threads of golden light floating before him. "The werewolf curse is rooted in the bloodline and is nearly irreversible. My method bypasses the concept of 'healing' entirely and instead performs a morphological overwrite. It uses a permanent Transfiguration curse to fundamentally reshape his physical form, forcibly locking him into a stable human state."
He pointed to several key nodes in the diagram of light. "I can also use magic to construct a permanent 'morphological mould' here. Not only will the full moon no longer trigger a transformation, but the magic will also be guided by the mould, possibly even turning into a form of passive enhancement, such as heightened senses or increased physical strength. But the core principle remains the same: the werewolf form will be permanently suppressed."
"What is the cost?"
Dumbledore asked softly, his blue eyes flickering with caution. He clearly did not believe such magic would come without a price.
"Three aspects," Sagres replied. "First, Professor Lupin will permanently lose the ability to perform any form of human Transfiguration. Second, his appearance will be fixed at the moment the spell is completed; time will no longer leave any marks on him. Third, the process may be somewhat painful and will require his absolute, unwavering will."
His tone grew slightly heavier. "Furthermore, this magic belongs to a forbidden field I have researched independently. I am afraid some will not tolerate such 'defiance of natural laws,' so to avoid unnecessary trouble, it is best kept strictly confidential."
The office fell silent, broken only by a soft chirp from Fawkes.
"If I heard correctly—"
Snape narrowed his eyes and spoke at last. "Can your grand theory be summarised in a single sentence? You intend to use magic to 'turn' this mutt into a human?"
His tone carried undisguised sarcasm.
"You may understand it that way," Sagres replied with a nod.
"Sounds… utterly absurd."
Snape raised an eyebrow, forcing out the words. "And this theory feels like something a Dark Wizard would devise—an evil form of magic meant to create permanent slaves."
As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Lupin, who stood in the shadows, as if offering a "kind" warning.
But Lupin was lost in thought and did not notice the look at all.
"Your understanding is flawed, Professor Snape," Sagres said calmly. "First, this is not magic created by any Dark Wizard in history. Second, magic used to create permanent slaves is usually far simpler, and its process is much less complex."
"I am aware this is your 'personal' creation," Snape's facial muscles twitched slightly. "My question is, what do you have to ensure it will be as effective as you claim? And what can you use to guarantee the absolute safety of the entire process—and what follows?"
After a pause, he seemed to shed that layer of feigned concern, his voice lowering further. "Or, to put it more directly—are you truly one hundred percent certain that this dangerous trick will not ultimately… create an unprecedented, even more terrifying monster?"
On the surface, he appeared to be questioning the safety of the process and expressing concern for his colleague, but beneath it all, he was quietly anticipating a disastrous outcome.
He even thought, somewhat maliciously, that if this method succeeded, it might one day be used on that troublesome Sirius.
"You may rest assured on that point, Professor Snape."
Sagres's reply was cold, as if he had already seen through his thoughts. "The stability of magic depends on the absolute precision of its internal structure, not on whether it aligns with personal preferences or moral expectations."
At the same time, he changed the subject. "In addition, I require you to brew a soul-stabilising potion—not to ease pain, but to prevent his soul from collapsing during the Transfiguration process. This falls within your expertise."
Snape's black eyes were like two bottomless, icy pools, fixed on Sagres before sweeping sharply toward the pale-faced Lupin.
Complex, unreadable emotions churned within them. There was an almost instinctive aversion, but even more so, a faintly cruel curiosity.
After a long silence, Snape finally forced out a single word, steeped in reluctance.
"…Fine."
Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Lupin for a long time.
"Remus," he asked gently, "what is your decision? This requires your full, conscious consent, and… absolute trust in Sagres."
Lupin's hands trembled slightly. He closed his eyes, as if seeing himself howling beneath the full moon, seeing the fearful expressions of those who witnessed his frenzied transformation.
The next moment, he opened his eyes again. All hesitation and fear had vanished, replaced by an unprecedented resolve.
"Most of my life has been spent in avoidance and fear."
His voice was slightly hoarse, yet firm. "Now that such a path truly lies before me, one that allows me to stand in the light without worry, without harming anyone… no matter how dangerous it is, I am willing to try."
"I trust you, Professor Dumbledore. And… I trust you, Professor Greengrass."
He finally turned his gaze toward the shadows. "And you, Severus. Thank you for your help."
Snape let out a cold snort and turned his head away.
…
The entire Transfiguration process took place in a hidden chamber beneath the History of Magic classroom, reinforced with powerful protective magic.
Dumbledore, for the sake of absolute safety and isolation, moved the process from the Headmaster's Office to this location.
The room was not adorned with intricate magical runes, nor were there large alchemical arrays etched into the floor. Everything appeared unusually simple, almost abnormal.
Lupin lay on a makeshift platform formed from several desks. He first accepted a bottle of viscous potion shimmering with a mother-of-pearl sheen from Snape, then another potion from Sagres that cleared the mind, which he drank in one gulp.
The potion took effect quickly. His muscles gradually relaxed, yet his consciousness became exceptionally sharp, as though every sense had been heightened.
When the full moon rose into the night sky, the familiar pain arrived as expected.
Lupin let out an uncontrollable, pained growl. His body trembled violently, and his bones emitted a grating creak—the transformation had begun.
At the same time, Sagres raised his wand.
He chanted a spell, and from its tip surged immense magic, transforming into countless fine golden threads that wrapped around Lupin's body and embedded themselves deep into his flesh and blood.
Yet, contrary to the terrifying sight, the entire process was astonishingly swift.
Just as Lupin braced himself for a prolonged ordeal, the tearing pain suddenly receded like a withdrawing tide.
A strange sensation enveloped him, as if his body had melted into liquid, then been gently poured into a perfectly shaped, stable vessel.
He did not feel the catastrophic pain he had expected.
Sagres's control over magic was impeccably precise. He even smoothed away the scars on Lupin's cheeks that marked his suffering, and quietly restored his prematurely greying hair to a warm brown.
At last, when the moonlight outside the window, refracted through crystal, reached its peak, all the flowing golden threads suddenly drew tight, then vanished completely into Lupin's body.
Lupin could clearly feel the wild power within him, once eager to break free, gradually subside.
It was not suppressed, but transformed.
The beast had been restrained and tamed by that eternal "mould," becoming a steady, controlled force flowing through his limbs.
The moonlight fell gently upon him, no longer bringing pain or curses, but a cool sense of comfort.
He was no longer a werewolf.
He was no longer the Remus Lupin he had once been.
The overwhelming surge of emotion left him unable to speak. He simply raised his hands, staring at them—familiar, yet strangely new.
Hot tears fell uncontrollably, one after another, onto the cold tabletop beneath him.
It was the relief of a burden lifted, the joy of rebirth, the profound shock of facing an entirely new future.
"Happy birthday," Sagres said flatly as he put away his wand.
"Thank you…"
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