[Floo Travel Activated]
Destination: Slytherin Castle
With a rush of green flames and a low whoosh, Harry stepped out of the newly installed fireplace, brushing soot from his sleeves. The warm pulse of ancient wards hummed faintly around him, acknowledging his presence—welcoming their new master.
Though he had walked these halls just days before, something had changed.
It was his now.
The dusty banners no longer whispered of forgotten legacies—they whispered to him. Of secrets. Of potential. Of ownership.
He stood in the center of the grand entryway, boots echoing softly on the ancient flagstones. The entire hall was still barren, cold stone walls exposed where centuries-old tapestries once hung. The goblins had stripped the place clean—anything not bolted down was sold or stored for Gringotts profit.
But Harry didn't mind. It gave him a blank canvas.
[New Passive Quest – Interior Renovation Unlocked!]
Objective: Restore Slytherin Castle to a habitable state
Optional Bonus: Add modern magical enhancements
Reward: Comfort, Reputation, Influence, ???
"Curtains," he muttered to himself, squinting at the tall, arched windows. "Dark green velvet with silver trim. Enchanted to repel dust and regulate sunlight."
He wandered slowly, mentally sketching the layout. Floating crystal lanterns down the hallways. Soft carpets that changed color with season. Bedrooms with charmed wardrobes and self-cleaning sheets. A proper master study with runic chalkboards and dimensional bookshelves.
He stopped at one bare chamber, clearly once a bedroom. The large stone canopy above the bed area was still intact, and he ran a hand along one of the carved serpents.
"Blackwood frame, silver-gray bedding, and a stasis charm for the mattress," he murmured. "Yeah… that'll do."
The castle was silent, but it wasn't empty. He could feel the magic pulsing behind walls and under floors. It wasn't hostile—but it was old. Alert. Watching.
[Observe – Lv.9]
Detected: Residual magical pathways | Hidden mechanism behind 3rd wall torch | Concealed door: Locked (Parseltongue Sealed)
Harry's eyes flicked to the stone torch. That was one of the hidden rooms the goblins hadn't found. He knew of at least a dozen more. Maybe more than that.
But he didn't approach. Not yet.
Because he wasn't foolish. He had seen what old magic could do when disturbed carelessly. And Salazar Slytherin was not a man known for mercy, especially toward trespassers.
And more importantly—he was alone.
He hadn't told anyone. Not Sam, not Regina, not the werewolves or even the goblins who finished the paperwork.
This castle wasn't a bragging point. This was his secret base.
His retreat. His sanctuary. And possibly… his greatest weapon.
"I'll come back better prepared," he said to himself. "Wards, counter-curses, detection spells. Maybe even bring a golem or two. No need to rush."
For now, he simply walked. Quiet steps through the empty halls of a dead legacy, dreaming of how to make it live again.
Harry sat by the fireplace in his Knockturn Alley home, parchment rolled out, ink drying on his fifth letter. He hadn't told anyone publicly about the Slytherin Castle, but there were still a few people who knew—the curse-breakers who had worked on the Gringotts excavation team.
He had spent the days watching them, listening quietly as they worked under goblin supervision, deciphering traps and unlocking vaults. Curse-breakers were specialists, and even the goblins respected their skills. Most were under magical contracts that tied them directly to Gringotts—but not all.
Harry decided it was time to seek help.
Wearing the same disguise he had used at the excavation site—a short wizard with a mature face, a salt-and-pepper mustache, and an air of quiet mystery—Harry arranged meetings with five of the curse-breakers he had quietly observed.
The first three refused.
They were under strict magical contracts with Gringotts. Breaking those terms could mean not only being blacklisted, but also suffering severe magical penalties. Harry understood and didn't push further.
But the fourth and fifth—Thorne and Cassia—were only temporary hires, not bound by any long-term contract. They listened to Harry's proposal with keen interest.
"What exactly do you want from us?" Thorne asked cautiously.
"I own the castle now," Harry said bluntly. "I want it restored to its original grandeur. But more than that—I want the hidden secrets opened. Carefully. Quietly."
Cassia narrowed her eyes. "And you're offering?"
"Three thousand Galleons. Each," Harry replied. "For one month of work. Plus bonuses depending on what we find."
Their silence was all the answer he needed.
[New Magical Contract Created!]
Type: Secrecy & Employment Oath
Binding Terms:
Thorne and Cassia cannot speak about Slytherin Castle or Harry's involvement
Must work exclusively for Harry for 30 days
Magical penalties upon breach of contract
The next morning, Harry handed them a magical debit card—Gringotts-issued and charmed to function in Muggle stores.
"Get anything the castle need," he said. "Furniture, magical enhancements, rugs, lights, portraits. I want the castle to shine."
Thorne looked impressed. "Most clients just want us to dodge curses and open vaults."
"I want more than vaults," Harry said quietly. "I want a home. And maybe… a fortress."
Harry returned to knockturn alley that night, mind already racing. Let them decorate the castle like he wanted. Then… he would return to the castle and begin unlocking the rooms the goblins never found.
And this time, he wouldn't be alone.
The magically expanded hall of Lycan's Refuge buzzed with activity.
The large, enchanted space—hidden between two old buildings in Knockturn Alley—was pulsing with low conversation, firelight from floating lanterns, and the unmistakable weight of transformation magic simmering just under the surface. Silver filigree wardlines glowed faintly on the stone floor, absorbing the tension of a hundred unstable auras.
Harry stood quietly near the back, cloaked in shadow.
His Dementor Cloak rippled slightly even without wind, and his face was hidden under the hood. The name he now used in this hall—Loki Wolfmoon—was spoken with respect by the werewolves who had come to rely on his potions. He was no longer just the mysterious brewer. He had become a legend.
[You have entered: Lycan's Refuge – Safe Zone]
Buff Applied: "Aura of the Wolflord" – Werewolves around you feel calm and focused
Reputation Gained: +25 with International Werewolf Communities
Many had already drunk the potion purchased from Sam's shop, and the signs were clear—clearer eyes, steadier breathing, even smiles among the cursed. The transformation would be painless this month.
Harry—Loki—watched as more werewolves arriving in groups from Germany, Spain, Norway, and even Turkey.
They had come not for silver or gold—but for peace. For sanity.
The Zeus Hotel staff, wearing dark blue robes embroidered with golden lightning bolts, stood at the edges of the portal circle, ushering people in and passing them warm soup and small enchanted tokens to ensure each guest was logged in the magical register.
"Another dozen just came in from Athens," said Regina, passing Harry a whisper through a spell.
Harry nodded. The turnout this month was already higher than the last full moon cycle.
He felt something inside him stir. It wasn't pride. It was… responsibility.
Some of the older werewolves came to him and bowed their heads lightly, never asking his true name. But they thanked him—sometimes just with a wordless nod, other times with trembling hands gripping his.
One even said, "My daughter slept soundly last full moon… for the first time in ten years."
And Harry nodded in silence, heart heavy, but steady.
He mingled freely, keeping his voice low, his manner unthreatening. His identity was safe—only a few knew the truth. He didn't want the Prophet sniffing around. Didn't want the Ministry to realize he had succeeded where their entire Werewolf Division had failed.
For now, Loki Wolfmoon was the people's healer. The people's hope.
In the corner, a group of foreign alphas sat together, talking in sharp accents and occasionally glancing Harry's way. He recognized the marks on one's coat—Eastern European pack. Dangerous, proud, and rarely allied with outsiders.
But here they were. Watching him. Respecting him.
This was no longer just a charity project.
This was a movement.
As the night approached, the mood inside Lycan's Refuge began to change.
The bright chatter of the evening meal gave way to quiet murmurs and nervous laughter. One by one, the werewolves began moving toward the changing chambers built along the far side of the enchanted hall.
They all knew what came next.
The transformation.
Everyone began stripping down to their undergarments — some out of habit, others out of practicality — because clothes were the first casualties of the full moon. Torn fabric littered the corners of the refuge from past transformations. This time, they wanted to avoid that.
[System Notification]
Full Moon Event Detected – Lunar Magic Resonance increasing
Environmental Buff: Calm Aura (Potion Enhanced)
Transformation Countdown: 00:17:52
When Harry stepped out of the shadows, still cloaked in his tattered Dementor cloak, several heads turned.
He usually left before the moon rose — always gone before the first howl split the night.
Sam noticed immediately.
"Loki— why aren't you leaving tonight?" Sam's voice was low but heavy with concern.
Harry's hood turned slightly toward him. "Because I want to stay with them tonight," he said simply.
The entire hall went silent for a moment.
A few of the werewolves exchanged anxious looks.
Even with the Wolfsbane potion, they knew how dangerous a slip could be — a single scratch from a claw, even by accident, could turn Harry into one of them.
"You can't be serious," said Regina, eyes wide. "You could get bitten—"
Harry raised a hand calmly. "I've thought of that. I have a plan."
The quiet authority in his voice made them stop arguing. Sam hesitated for a long moment, then finally sighed. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "But stay close to the walls. And don't do anything stupid."
Harry nodded and turned toward the far wall. He lifted his wand and gently tapped the smooth stone surface.
The ceiling shimmered like rippling water, and the enchanted illusion began to shift — the gray stone above them fading into a vast night sky, painted with glowing constellations and the bright silver curve of the rising moon.
Around them, the illusion expanded, transforming the flat floor into a lush forest clearing, soft moss and enchanted leaves forming beneath their feet. Even the smell changed — the faint scent of pine and fresh earth filled the air.
It was still inside the Refuge… but it felt like the wilderness.
The perfect place for wolves to meet their moon.
As the full moon rose higher in the illusionary sky, Harry could feel the shift in the air. The werewolves around him began to tremble, clutching their bodies, their breathing deepening as the curse inside them stirred awake.
Then it began.
Their bones started to shift, muscles expanding, fur spreading across skin.
But there was no screaming. No agony. No madness.
Only breathing.
And the sound of cloth tearing as their undergarments split away.
Where there had once been suffering, now there was only silence and awe.
Harry stood perfectly still, hidden beneath his cloak, watching as dozens of werewolves completed their transformations — and instead of falling into violence, they simply lifted their heads toward the moon and howled together.
The sound echoed through the enchanted forest, haunting yet peaceful.
Harry exhaled slowly. This was what all the brewing, all the sleepless nights, all the planning had been for.
Harry stood silently in the center of the Lycan's Refuge, his hood lowered just enough for the moonlight to touch his face. Around him, the werewolves who had been with him since the beginning—his first pack—slowly began to approach. Their massive, fur-covered bodies moved with surprising grace as they formed a perfect circle around him.
They were cautious.
Protective.
Because tonight, the refuge wasn't filled only with familiar faces. There were dozens of new werewolves—foreigners, wanderers, and drifters—who had come after hearing the rumors of painless transformation. Some were kind. Others were dangerous. None of the old pack trusted them yet.
So they surrounded Harry in silent unity, forming a barrier of fur and fangs.
Harry looked at them—Regina, Lucas, Fred, and even Sam watching from the edge of the ring—and felt something tighten in his chest. It wasn't fear. It was pride.
For the first time, he wasn't just helping them.
He was one of them.
[System Notification]
Title Effect: "Wolflord" Activated.
All nearby werewolves gain +10 Calm Resistance and +5 Trust.
Your bond with the Moonlit Pack deepens.
Harry exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as the full moonlight glimmered through the illusionary sky above. Then, without warning, his body began to glow faintly blue. His bones creaked—not in pain, but in transformation.
The cloak shimmered away as Harry's Shapeshifting Skill activated.
Fur rippled across his arms, claws formed from his fingertips, and in a swirl of gray and shadow, he dropped to all fours.
A sleek black wolf stood where Harry once stood.
His eyes glowed faintly emerald green, the mark of his magic even in his transformed state.
The room fell silent in shock.
Even Sam froze, his mouth half-open.
Regina stepped closer, awe written across her lupine face.
Then Harry—no, Loki Wolfmoon—tilted his head toward the illusionary sky, inhaled deeply, and released a long, powerful howl that echoed across the hall.
It wasn't just sound.
It was command.
It was belonging.
And one by one, every werewolf in the Refuge lifted their heads and howled with him.
The sound blended into a single voice—hundreds of wolves calling to the same moon, a harmony that made the enchanted ceiling tremble.
The pack began to move, first in cautious steps, then in full sprints. The magically expanded floor stretched endlessly into a moonlit forest, and the wolves ran together, tails streaming behind them like shadows.
Harry ran with them, his paws silent, his body light. The air was cool against his fur, and every movement felt natural—instinctive.
He wasn't just observing anymore.
He was one of them.
And as they howled and raced through the enchanted woods, Harry thought of the future.
Of a real forest.
Of open land.
Of the Slytherin Castle grounds, where they could all run freely one day under a true moon—not an illusion.
A hidden sanctuary, protected by ancient wards.
A home for the cursed.
[Quest Completed: "The Silent Howl"]
Objective: Lead the Werewolves Pack through a full cycle without incident.
Status: Success.
Bonus Objective Unlocked: "A Land for the Free Wolves."
Hint: Suitable location detected – Slytherin Castle (100 acres, Uninhabited).
[Rewards]
EXP Gained: +2000
Gold Reward: +2500 Galleons
Title Unlocked:
Wolfborn— "You gave the wolves back their moon."
Permanently immune to lycanthropy infection
Potion Brewing involving aconite or transformation ingredients +25 % efficiency
Reputation Gained:
Werewolf Clans +150 (revered)
Knockturn Alley +25 (respected)
Gringotts +10 (neutral → amicable)
New Passive Skills
[Lunar Bond] – Lv. 1
When within 100 meters of a werewolf ally, all allies gain +10 % HP regen.
User gains +25 % resistance to dark curses and transformational magic.
Strength +20, Endurance +20 while moonlight is present.
[Moonlit Aura] – Lv. 1
Increases control over beasts and half-beasts by +20 %.
Passive calming field that reduces aggression in magical creatures.
Unlocks special interaction options with Werewolf Leaders & Animagi.