Ginny, Alexa, and Jack returned to school the next day to discover that Eric would be in detention every day for the rest of the year with Lockhart of all people. Not only that, but Dumbledore had stood up during the dinner feast on Tuesday and announced what had happened and Eric’s punishment to everyone to shame him. Ginny had thought it was a light punishment for something that could have gotten them killed, especially a detention with a professor as nice although self-absorbed as Lockhart was.
But Eric’s face had dropped and it looked like he’d been punched in the gut at the announcement, the punishment causing him to become more emotional than Ginny was used to seeing him. Lockhart stood at the professor’s table beaming and smiling at the news, looking rather satisfied that Eric would be serving detention with him every school day for the rest of the year.
Based on Eric’s reaction, maybe Dumbledore knew what he was doing, sending Eric to Lockhart. There was another article in the paper written by Rita Skeeter crowing about how she had been right. How Eric was a jealous braggart, taking revenge on Ginny for her win at the first task. How Ginny was the upstanding and talented competitor being dragged down by the talentless and jealous Eric.
Eric stewed and looked angry as he glared at the paper, but he left Ginny and her friends alone and didn’t try to approach any of them much to her relief. There was only one more week until Christmas break. Hermione seemed to have inexplicably forgiven Eric for what he’d done, although she was still rather annoyed at him. It was odd seeing Eric just sitting there as she scolded him for something or other harshly when he did something minor wrong as she took her annoyance out on him.
Ron still wasn’t speaking to Eric, but even over the course of a few days Ginny could already see him weakening and beginning to pass food to Eric silently when he pointed to something on the table just out of reach for him.
He’d probably break and the two of them would make up before the week was out, Ginny thought sourly. Fred and George didn’t seem too happy with Ron’s behavior either, rather frustrated that Ron still hadn’t cut ties to Eric after what had happened. Ginny still hadn’t talked to her brother about it, but she expected Christmas with Ron to be rather tense.
The week passed and sure enough Ron was speaking to Eric again by the end of it, even if it was only a few sentences at a time as the three of them sat together in the great hall.
They left and went home for Christmas, Ginny feeling much better. She’d be getting her panic button from Balthazar for the future. After sending letters to their parents, Jack and Alexa would be coming over to a party at Sirius’ house three days before Christmas where they could meet Balthazar. And their parents too, Ginny wondered how they would react to Balthazar. Hopefully Jack and Alexa would warn them in time…
— — —
Balthazar lowered the communicator after talking with Ginny and her friends. She had shared all her secrets with them. It was only a matter of time now before more people knew. Whether through betrayal or unknowingly tipping off others with their knowledge, Ginny’s friends would expose Ginny’s secrets over time.
But she’d made her decision, so it was best to work around it as best as he could. He had been delaying his next step for when the wards at Azkaban were finished to his satisfaction. But he had accomplished most of what he would need. Working at the Wolf-kin clinic with young Olivia Roberts was surprisingly fulfilling, and would be a good introduction to Balthazar for Headmaster Dumbledore. Show him that Balthazar was both benevolent but also powerful enough to not play games with.
Balthazar took out a piece of parchment and spent some time crafting an introductory letter explaining what he wished to offer the Headmaster. He sealed it and then with some focus sent the letter to apparate through the Hogwarts wards into the Headmaster’s office. The wards were strong and adaptable. Far more than Balthazar had seen even on Azkaban or any other place in this world. But Balthazar was skilled, and to him they were nothing more than an annoyance as he carefully delivered his letter.
He sat back on a chair and started rubbing his chin as he thought. Tomorrow morning he’d be meeting Headmaster Dumbledore hopefully. He’d have to consider all the angles, what approaches he should take from there. He couldn’t risk anything while the powerful wizard remained in charge of the school where Ginny and Eric resided together. Disaster could strike at any moment if Eric had a sudden whim to hurt Ginny again. No chances could be taken to make the headmaster hostile to Balthazar and possibly cause him to punish Ginny indirectly as a result.
— — —
Balthazar stood in the back room of the Wolf-kin Clinic. He’d only been working full time here for the last three weeks or so. He’d received a constant flow of werewolves to alter ever since he’d arrived. Teregatt was strong, providing him with the magical strength to continue easily now that it had a magical source to power itself by. It had nearly recovered its emergency reserves of magic over these last few months, but Balthazar freely used his magic for the clinic. This was only a drop in the bucket compared to how much energy Teregatt drew into itself through the portal on a permanent basis at all hours of the day.
Balthazar felt the tiniest spark of his intrinsic magic sputter back into life in his soul after its long disuse. It had never fully snuffed itself, but now separated from Teregatt partially, Balthazar’s soul began drawing on the spark of intrinsic magic once more. Under the strain and constant use the spark slowly grew stronger and stronger as time passed. Still a spark, and weaker than what any magical creature or person had ever been born with before. But slowly growing, and someday Balthazar would no longer wholly be dependent on Teregatt for his magic any longer.
Balthazar looked up and saw Sharon wheeling in another trolley with an unconscious werewolf lying on top of it. Balthazar finished up with his current patient, and did his final checks on everything to make sure the procedure was a success. After making sure he floated an ink stamp with his magic and pressed it onto the back of the patient’s right hand. Something to make sure that there were no mix-ups of who had been fully treated or not.
Sharon had been hired from the wizarding hospital, and she was refreshingly competent in making sure that everything went smoothly in their operation along with the other nurses that worked under her. But only Sharon herself was allowed to wheel the patients into Balthazar’s mysterious operation room and its double doors and multitude of impenetrable wards.
There had been many attempts to break in, and all had been foiled so far, to the point where when the Aurors came the criminals were sometimes caught still trying to blast open the doors with massive explosive curses in frustration only to not leave a scratch on them by the time the Aurors arrived to arrest them.
Young Olivia Roberts and a few of the other grateful Wolf-kin helped run the front end of processing and reassuring the nervous werewolves before Sharon and the nurses actually prepared them for treatment by Balthazar. The nurses spelled them unconscious and organized everything so the patients could flow smoothly in and out at whatever pace that Balthazar worked.
Balthazar lifted the patient he had just stamped onto an empty trolley to his right. Sharon grabbed it and started wheeling it out into the main building through the double doors again.
She paused briefly, “Oh, Olivia tells me that Albus Dumbledore has told her that you have invited him to come back here to meet you? Should we let him through?”
Balthazar paused even as his magic loaded the next unconscious werewolf onto the operating table, “You would really stand against him? Is he not one of the most powerful men in Britain?”
Sharon huffed and gestured to all the enchanted equipment around them and Balthazar himself.
“So people say, I think he’s got some competition now,” She said.
“Even so,” Balthazar said, “Even if I am as, if not more, powerful as him, it is not easy to stand in the middle between us either way.”
Sharon frowned, “I used to work at St. Mungo’s as I’m sure you know. He went into little Ginny Weasley’s room without permission and tried to convince her to break her familiar bond with the phoenix that he owned at the time. Completely inappropriate and I gave him an appropriate tongue lashing for it. I’ve not been one to have a high opinion of the man since.”
Balthazar looked at Sharon in surprise. “You’re that Sharon? Ginny spoke of you, she had quite the favorable review of your care.”
“Oh? She did?” Sharon said, brightening a little, “I wasn’t sure if she’d remember me. To think that she’d become a triwizarding champion and be friends with Olivia Roberts too… Small world, I suppose.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. I invited Dumbledore here. It’s my hope to tutor him in performing the operation himself. That way the clinic won’t be fully reliant on me in case I become… occupied by anything.”
Sharon stared at him while still standing with the trolley with the sleeping Wolf-kin on top of it.
“Is that something that you’re expecting to happen? I’ll change the schedule to whatever you like, I know you’re essentially a volunteer. You’re a good man for doing all of this for no material gain that I can tell. You haven’t even shown your face in public yet to claim credit for all your hard work.”
“Nor do I plan to,” Balthazar said, “But… Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of myself as a good man. That will be all.”
“Okay Balthazar, I’ll send him right in.”
She left with the Wolf-kin out the doors. Several minutes later she returned with an empty trolley, with Albus Dumbledore in tow. He looked exactly how he had looked over the communicator. His eyes darted around the room to take it all in with a piercing gaze. His long white beard running down to his chest and wearing a squarish felt cap sitting on top of his head.
His eyes settled on Balthazar as Sharon continued and placed the empty trolley on the right of the operating table where the unconscious werewolf still lay. Balthazar had not begun the operation yet so he could show Dumbledore the process from the beginning.
Sharon went to leave.
“Ah, Sharon.” The woman stopped and looked at Balthazar, “We will be much slower as Dumbledore here learns the process. Perhaps have everyone take a break for a few hours. We’ll be working on this patient for about that long I believe.”
“I’ll leave someone waiting by the signal light outside,” Sharon promised, “But it would be nice to have a break for once. We’ve been running ourselves rather ragged now that you’ve been helping us full time…”
She left.
“Signal light?” Dumbledore asked curiously.
Balthazar pointed to a lever on the wall which was in an off position at the moment.
“The lever causes a light to flash by the outer doors. I turn it on when I am nearly finished with a patient and am ready to receive a new one. Sharon’s idea, not mine. This place would fall apart without her guidance, I’m sure.”
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“Indeed. So, not that I am not eager to learn how you perform such a fascinating procedure. But I must ask. Why me? Any witch or wizard would clamor for the chance to learn this. Why not share the technique with the world?”
“I could, and I am,” Balthazar said, “I am teaching you for that purpose to share it as you wish, with proper discretion. This technique has many horrible and inhumane uses in the wrong hands. You will understand when we are finished, but altering the fundamental nature of a being is something that can lead to horrific results if done improperly. Do you swear to use the knowledge I will impart to you responsibly and make sure that should you believe that you can not find one worthy to hold this knowledge in your stead, that you will carry the knowledge to your grave with its secrets having never left your lips into the ear of another?”
Dumbledore stared at Balthazar and seemed to seriously consider Balthazar’s oath. He nodded, “I do, I swear to do so and protect this knowledge so it does not fall into the wrong hands.”
“Excellent. The second reason I have chosen you is because of your magical power, and your ability to use wandless magic and magic sense no matter how little. You may use your wand as you wish, but the magic sense is critical. How far above your skin can you sense the flows of magic?”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened briefly before he frowned, “I do not believe I informed anyone else of my magic sense. But it is precisely seven inches above my skin that I can sense.”
“That is sufficient. You will need it to feel the magic flowing in the patient. This will be where we will begin. Place your hand over the patient's stomach. Feel the magic flow within them. Ah, I’ve just realized we will need a comparison. This will… Hm. Give me a moment. Begin your observations on the magic as finely as you can for the moment.”
Dumbledore hesitated before nodding and putting his hand over the stomach of the male werewolf and closing his eyes, furrowing his brow.
Balthazar took out his communicator from his robes and activated it. After a few seconds Sharon answered with voice only on her own device.
“Yes, Balthazar? Anything you need?”
“Are any of the male nurses similar age and body type as our most recent patient? I’ve just realized that we’ll need a normal magical human baseline to compare to the werewolves for my teaching of Dumbledore. They would be knocked unconscious for this of course. If none of the nurses wish to do so, try to find some volunteers elsewhere with as close a match as possible. We shouldn’t need them for another hour or two at least I believe. ”
There was a short pause.
“I’ll get right on it. I’ll call you when I’ve found somebody close enough that’s willing to do it.”
“Actually,” Balthazar said, changing his mind at the last second, “Don’t bother doing so for today. Try to prepare a duo of werewolf and healthy human for tomorrow with the same parameters. That should make things easier for you, I would think.”
“Sure thing, Balthazar. I’ll look through the files and see how close I can get. That shouldn't be too hard, I wouldn't think, to find a good pair.”
She ended the call and Balthazar slipped the communicator back into his pocket.
Balthazar turned back around and noticed that Dumbledore had become distracted and was staring at Balthazar curiously, “There, that should be sorted by the time we need it,” Balthazar said, “Now we shall return to our analysis of our patient. I will now use my magic to highlight points of interest in the werewolf’s flows of magic. We will scan through the patient’s whole body meticulously so you can firmly grasp the flows of magic within the patient.”
Dumbledore glanced between the unconscious werewolf and Balthazar.
“You expect this to take two hours? Forgive an old man, but I believe I will be forced to take some breaks on our way. I am unused to such sustained focus in my day to day.”
“Very well, take what rests you need. Now let us begin. Look again at the magic.”
Balthazar remained standing as Dumbledore closed his eyes again and focused on the magic within the werewolf. Balthazar took his own magic and highlighted the portion representing the werewolf curse and magnified it to a million times the intensity of its natural subtle state. Dumbledore flinched, his hand jerking off of the werewolf’s stomach in surprise.
“What is this?” He asked.
“This is the werewolf curse, or the parts of this man’s magic that are most closely aligned with it. I have used my magic to highlight it to you so you may observe and understand its flows and structure more easily.”
“Fascinating…” Dumbledore said, “I’ve never seen such a complex curse before, it’s almost like it’s part of their magic. Dipping in and out of the streams like fish in water…”
“Indeed,” Balthazar said, pleasantly surprised by Dumbledore’s observations, “An apt analogy. That is why it is so hard to cure. This man is no longer a human, but a werewolf fundamentally. It’s only the lack of the moonlight trigger that is causing him to retain his human form now. In order to transform him into a wolf-kin, there is no cure to the disease. There is no rooting it out. There is only altering, twisting, forming, a new being with the power of our magic. A wolf-kin. It is not a cure that we do here, but a changing of the curse, of them, to a more beneficial form.”
Dumbledore looked up at Balthazar with a piercing look and a flash of doubt came across his face. “Perhaps I am not worthy of power like that…” Dumbledore whispered.
“Only those who believe they are not worthy are, for power like this. It is not a power to take lightly. Remember your oath, those who did not are likely the ones that created this terrible curse in the first place.”
“I shall do my best,” Dumbledore said firmly, recovering from his momentary doubt and refocusing on the patient.
“Very well, then let us begin the scan of the patient. Stop and observe what you see about the curse as we go along. I shall fill you in on my own findings as we continue.”
Dumbledore only ended up needing three short breaks in what ended up being the four hours it took to fully scan the unconscious patient. Longer than Balthazar had expected it to take. But the old man was sharp in mind and made astute observations on the curse. Balthazar was impressed even as he occasionally corrected Dumbledore’s assumptions or incorrect knowledge that he had been taught about magic. Occasionally Balthazar was forced to make demonstrations with his own magic when Dumbledore was adamant about that or this law of magic being irrefutable.
The old man stopped arguing with Balthazar’s assertions after the fifth of his irrefutable laws of magic were proven false by Balthazar. Perhaps these laws of magic were ironclad for those who relied on wands, as limited they were by their materials and enchantments within them. But magic itself was limitless, able to accomplish anything given enough power and force of will of the user to force reality to mold itself to their desires.
The old man was a quick learner, and after Balthazar proved his knowledge over and over he became quite the eager student, his eyes gleaming and a smile on his face as they kept with their observations on the werewolf. Only the man’s weak body forced him to pause and sit in a chair for a few minutes to recover. But as soon as he was ready, he had sprung up and dove back into the observations.
By the time that Dumbledore had finished, Balthazar saw that the man was clearly exhausted despite his eagerness to continue.
“I believe that will be all for now. Perhaps you should call it a day, Dumbledore,” Balthazar said, “You have learned much in a short time. Perhaps you should take some time to digest it.”
The old man composed himself, and the excited glint in his eyes slowly faded into faint disappointment.
“Indeed. I had thought myself at the peak of magic, but now I see that I’ve barely even scratched the surface. It reminds me of my youth, diving into the wonders of magic for the first time. Learning and improving all that I could when it was all so new to me…”
Dumbledore had a distant gaze as he apparently reflected on his past. He refocused after a moment.
“How? What did you do to acquire such deep knowledge of magic? Why share it with me?”
“I’ve told you why in my letter,” Balthazar said, “If I am indisposed I do not want to dangle hope in front of the werewolves only to snatch it away from them again. I need someone with moral fiber and power to be able to continue this clinic into the future.”
“But how? You know things that could shake the world of magic. Disproving theorems of magic that have stood untouched for centuries with ease. Wandless magic like I’ve never seen, far beyond my pitiful efforts. How could you have acquired this knowledge?”
“How did I gain this knowledge…” Balthazar said and looked into his red hands. Was it the red of his skin or the red of all the blood he had spilt in his service to Teregatt? Sometimes it was hard to remember.
“Sacrifice,” Balthazar said, “Knowledge that more power at the right moment could have saved the one dearest to me. Just a little faster, a little stronger… And she would still be with me today. Through the terror and madness of battle where the silence after is just as horrible as the screams of the warriors as they burn. Knowing that if I was just that more powerful then suddenly I wouldn’t lose anyone I cared for anymore. Lose anyone ever again. That’s what pushed me forward.”
Balthazar reflected on his love, the end. They had been escaping to the exit portal away from the homeworld. The enemy warriors and wizards were chasing after them. She had wanted to fight, to battle to the last to protect their home and their homeworld. But Balthazar had pleaded with her to go, for the both of them to survive instead. He was surprised he had managed to convince her to do so. She had always been so stubborn and ready to fight in visceral combat even more than all women of his people did.
But she had agreed to leave, to flee through the portal with him and abandon the home they had built together as a couple for decades of their long lives. But there, barring the way to the portal, was the enemy wizard. Balthazar had fought him, the greatest magical talent of their homeworld going to battle with a low level wizard sent in the first wave of the enemy invasion.
His love held back the warriors behind them with her blade as he combated the enemy wizard who blocked their escape with his magic. Yet, despite all his efforts, all his training, using every trick he knew… He lost. The wizard just barely defeated him, ground him into the dirt even while the man bled from a thousand small wounds that Balthazar had given him and looked nearly spent.
Even with Balthazar’s battered body, he had managed to turn his head to see his love pierced through with multiple glowing spears. The wizard he had failed to defeat struck her down with his spells while her back was turned fighting the other warriors to a standstill. She staggered as blood ran in giant spurts from her body where the spears had pierced her.
Balthazar had reached out a single hand through his blurry vision towards her as her body hit the ground. A single half formed gesture to reach out, as if he would be able to pluck her or wipe away the foul illusion that her pain and gruesome injuries must be. But then he was drawn into Teregatt by its original owner’s powerful magic in a burst of red light to transport him away in an instant.
He had begged and pleaded, for the man to include his love in the deal, to save her, to do something. But the man was firm, she had no magical talent. Only Balthazar was wanted and no other. Balthazar only had two options. Serve Teregatt and its master or return to his homeworld and be killed by the enemy warriors there. He had chosen to serve, even as grieved for his lost love and world.
All the friends and warriors for Teregatt that had joined and died ever since in a never ending line in an endless state of war and conquest. All of them were killed in that last battle where the old owner and his great armies of Teregatt bit off more than they could chew and were destroyed utterly. Marching out as conquerors only to be destroyed themselves in turn, Teregatt’s ruler’s folly led to the loss of all that had gone with him. Leaving only Balthazar, the Guard, and the weakest of Teregatt’s residents behind to float aimlessly in the void before Teregatt’s automatic inheritance functions had anchored itself to this world to search for candidates upon sensing their old master’s demise. The survivors were but a faded remnant of what Teregatt used to be. The lass dregs of what had been an endless engine of war across the myriad of worlds they had passed through and conquered.
“Sacrifice,” Balthazar said as he came back to reality, “To be powerful enough to protect the people I care for. A foolish hope, it’s never enough. Never enough…”
He kept staring at his blood stained hands.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dumbledore said softly, “I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal. I have my own… complicated relationship with power. I have learned that I am not one to be trusted with power, lest I hurt the people I most care for in the pursuit of it. One of the reasons I’ve satisfied myself with political connections and acting as Headmaster instead of seeking out more personal power in my life. A softer from of power with less ability to corrupt me than becoming more powerful in my magic would.”
Balthazar looked up and saw an odd sort of fear as Dumbledore glanced between the unconscious werewolf on the table and Balthazar.
“I think I understand,” Balthazar said as he came back to himself, “Power is also a responsibility. Perhaps you are wiser now than you were when you made your mistakes in the past.”
Dumbledore looked pensive, “I certainly hope so, with the magnitude of what you have taught me in this single lesson.”
“Go, think on what you’ve learned. Come back once you’re sure that you’re ready to overcome your fear and prove yourself a man who can learn from his mistakes.”
“Thank you, Balthazar. You’ve certainly given me much to think about. It has been a long time since this old man has had a teacher so above me in skill and knowledge of magic.”
Dumbledore left and Balthazar’s eyes tracked him out of the door. He could only hope that the man would return ready to accept responsibility for this knowledge. If Dumbledore refused out of his fear of corrupting himself with power… Then Balthazar wasn’t sure he’d be able to find anyone else who’d be able to transform the werewolves into wolf-kin in years if not decades of teaching. Fate would attack and things would descend into chaos for Teregatt before that would happen.
He could only hope that the man would return. And if their second lesson went well… then perhaps Balthazar could discuss Ginny Weasley and Eric Potter and make sure that Ginny and her friends were properly protected. Best to make his requests appear as casual concerns rather than something utterly critical to secure.