The hunting compass began to glow a golden color and the arrow at the top began to spin around the small object. Faster and faster the arrow spun until it stopped at the top of the object once more, a golden trail of magic emitting from the device and leading the way out the shop door. The picture in the center of the object glowed brightly: a werewolf.

               “It’s time,” Ruse smiled.

               The man picked up the compass from his desk and draped a cloak over his shoulders, dramatically disappearing in a black smoke.

               Staring intently at the rusted gears, Remus picked up his wand and slowly inserted it into the small tracking device. He muttered a dissolving charm, hoping to repair the burnt mechanics. Yet, as his wand slowly dissolved away the rust, the magical damage sparked against his wand. Remus tried to continue, but the sparks increased. Then, a large shock flared against his fingers and he withdrew from the object.

               Growling under his breath, Remus set his wand down and stood from the table, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the water pitcher. He drank directly from it, considering he was the only one in the cabin to use the pitcher. He was about to set it back when the hunting compass sparked again, and a flame caught inside the piece.

               Thinking quickly, he dumped the pitcher over the device, extinguishing the flame. He shook his head as he refilled the pitcher. It was futile. The compass could not be fixed. He might as well as go inform Severus that he could not repair the one chance the man had at finding a sphinx. He sighed and closed his eyes. He hated to be the bearer of bad news.

               Leaving his wand in a protective, locked case, Remus stepped outside his cabin and shifted into his werewolf form. He might as well as take his time walking to Hogwarts. He had already arranged a late evening meeting with Severus in the man’s quarters. Besides, he liked to stroll through the forest as Moony. Despite the dark magic used on him to become what he was, there was something calming about becoming his werewolf form at will. There was power and control, something he hadn’t had before for years.

               He followed a trodden path, the faint smell of a manticore catching his attention. He had only ever seen one manticore in this forest, and he figured it was the same one. It’d be best to stay clear of him. Moony sniffed at a new trail and turned into the forest.

               As Moony wove through the trees, a dark figure standing at the end of his path caught his eye. He slowed to a stop, lowering his head and growling low. He narrowed his eyes at the figure.

               The man stood frozen, staring back unintimidated by the large wolf. The man adjusted the fedora on his head, tilting it down just slightly.

               It was that action that sent Moony charging the man, snarling. It was the man that had sent him to Ruse in the first place, the one that planted the idea in his head.

               The man in the fedora pulled out his wand and swished it as he walked toward the charging wolf. The very shadows of the trees came to life and rushed at Moony. The wolf slid to a halt and snapped at the shadows as they rose off the ground and engulfed Moony, knocking him over and pinning him to the ground. Moony struggled, snarling, then whining when the man in the fedora stopped in front of him.

               The man used his wand to lift Moony’s chin up, looking the wolf directly in the eyes. Moony tried to paw out of the crushing shadows’ grip, but he could move. The man removed his wand and tilted his head at Moony.

               “Not an animagus,” the man said. “How extraordinary.”

               Moony snapped his jaws at the man, growling softly.

               “Ruse is a man of many talents,” the man continued, waving his hand. More shadows left their castors and formed a ghostly chair and the man sat, rubbing his chin at Moony. “A trickster, a salesman, a potions prodigy, a shadow arts master.”

               Moony bared his teeth at the man, finding it harder to breathe under the shadows keeping him still.

               “Ruse’s rituals border on ingenuity and dark magic. While his intents may be to help those achieve what he never could as a child, his sadistic tendencies as an adult make him a formidable enemy. One of his favorite rituals is turning impatient, unsuspecting wizards and witches into their animagus form through a rushed transformation process, but he purposefully leaves out a key ingredient that keeps a human from becoming permanently an animal.”

               The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He was silent for a minute before he glanced at Moony. Moony had stopped struggling and was listening curiously, though he had no choice in the matter.

               “Once the victim is trapped as an animal, Ruse pursues his favorite pastime hobby—taxidermy. And he hunts the very people he transformed for his growing collection. He considers it a fair trade for his free services: a life for a transformation.”

               “I wanted nothing to do with it,” Moony said, growling and resuming his struggle. The shadows tightened around him. “I tried to leave.”

               “You sealed your fate once you stepped through his door,” the man told him. “All do. Ruse will give you the world but for a price he does not say. And for anyone looking for a cheat to the animagus process, the price has always been their own skin.”

               “And you knew that!” Moony snarled. “You set me up.”

               “I guess Ruse wants to add a werewolf to his collection. You should be a normal wolf, but he must have altered the process to keep you a werewolf for his hunt.”

               “Why did you do this?”

               “I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself.” The man motioned to himself. “Dougal Campbell. And you are?”

               Moony snapped his jaws at Dougal, who snorted and said, “I guess I’ll call you Wolfie for now. That cool with you?” Moony growled. Dougal sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

               “Ten years ago, my brother, Calum, decided he wanted to train to become an animagus. You see, his girlfriend had already completed the process and he wanted to impress her. He was doing great getting through every ridiculous step.” Dougal closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. “Somehow, Ruse heard of his training and lured Cal to his shop. When Cal came home the next morning, he showed off his animagus form—a golden retriever dog. Four months later, he turned into a dog and couldn’t turn back. As his older brother, I housed him and tried to find a cure. One day, I left for work, came home, and I had been broken into. But the only thing missing in my house was Calum.”

               Dougal closed his eyes again and when he opened them, they were misty as he choked out, “He was seventeen.” Moony whined in understanding, but he didn’t lower his guard yet. Dougal continued.

               “My instincts told me it was Ruse, even if no one else in the Auror department believed me. I was right. And when I confronted the man, he told me I had to take a deal in exchange for my brother’s body. Anything I desired he’d give me—for a price.”  

               “And what did you ask for?” Moony asked when Dougal stopped talking. Dougal frowned at Moony, as if considering whether he should tell him or not.

               “This,” the man finally said, holding his hands out to indicate the shadows around him. “I asked for the gift of the shadow arts. Ruse almost refused. You see, Ruse was a killer who needed to be stopped, but how can you stop someone who can become one with the shadows? I had to become a shadow master myself. And when he gave me this magic, he tried to kill me then and there. I realized Ruse had years of practice under his belt while I had no idea what I was doing. I needed to perfect my skills before I could face him and finish him off. Now, I am the Shadow King.”

               Dougal smiled contently, leaning back in his chair. Moony squirmed slightly before showing his teeth at the man.

               “I still don’t understand,” Moony said. “Why did you bring me into this? What have I ever done to you?”

               “This is nothing personal,” Dougal said. “I want my brother’s body and I want Ruse dead for what he did. Calum and all those other victims deserve justice. I apologize for this, but you are bait.”

               “Bait?” Moony struggled once more, spitting at the man. “You are no better than Ruse! A life for a life, is it?”

               “It’s for the greater good, Wolfie,” Dougal said, adjusting his fedora and standing up again, the chair dissolving. “Ruse will come hunting you, not expecting a fight with me. Someone must be bait. I’m sure you’d rather it be yourself than the little boy you like to visit.”

               “You’re insane! Release me. There has to be another way of luring Ruse out. I could help you.”

               “How?” Dougal glared. “It’s been about four months. Exactly one-hundred-and-twenty days since you were turned. Exactly the number of days it took for Cal to become trapped in his animagus form. It’s too late, wolf. I’ve spent years running and training for this moment. You’re bait whether you like it or not. Ruse will come looking for you with his tracker and when he finds you here, I will finally avenge my brother.”

               As Dougal’s anger sparked, his magic slipped enough for the shadows to loosen their hold. Moony felt the shift and he leaped out of his trap and lunged at the shadow man. Dougal raised an arm and vanished in a blackish smoke on the spot.

               Moony landed where the man had been. He sniffed the ground, but just as quickly, he sensed a presence behind him. Dougal flicked his wand at the wolf, but Moony jumped out of the way of the body-binding spell.

               “You cannot fight what you cannot touch, Wolfie,” Dougal said. “The shadow world is out of your reach.”

               “Yeah, but the manticore ain’t,” Moony barked.

               “What?” Dougal eyebrows shot up and the man turned in time to see the large manticore leap out of the trees at him. The creature roared as the man vanished in his shadows. The manticore frustratedly looked around while Moony used the distraction to run away. He found a breach in the anti-apparition wards and appeared at Hogwarts.

               Moony urged himself to shift back into Remus. His muscles tensed and ached in the way they normally would, but nothing happened. Growling, Moony tried again, remembering himself as Remus and urging every muscle and bone in his body to move.

               Still nothing.

               The wind against the trees and rustling leaves startled Moony and he ran for Hogwarts. He scratched at the entrance door, whining loudly, glancing over his shoulder briefly. The door opened, and Moony pushed past Filch, who shouted obscenities at him, his cat hissing.

               Students yelped and jumped out of his way as he slid through the halls, his long nails clicking on the hard floor. He panted as a few older students turned their wands on him, calling out for their professors.

               Moony vaguely remembered his way around Hogwarts, but his new perspective as Moony did not help any. He found himself in a large room—the Great Hall—where students and professors were finishing their lunch. Everyone cried out and pushed away from tables as he wildly tried to find another exit deeper in the hall.

               Instead of an exit, he found himself pressed against the wall, surrounded by older students and professors pointing their wands at him. Where on earth was the headmaster when he needed him? He whined submissively, tucking his tail under him and curling a paw, hoping to appear nonthreatening as he backed up further against the wall. He bowed, tucking his head under himself.

               “Everyone lower your wands this instant,” came a familiar deep voice.

               Moony glanced up to see Severus making his way through the parting crowd toward him, his own wand pointed at him. The man sneered down at him, but Moony could tell that Severus’s eyes were curious, not angry. All the students lowered their wands, but the professors hesitated. Moony hid his head again. Severus paused in front of Moony, glaring down at him.

               “It’s just a wolf,” he said, “a scared one at that.”

               “Severus, you and I both know that that is a werewolf,” Minerva argued, keeping her wand on it.

               “I don’t think so,” Severus said, purposely looking out a window. “The full moon was a week ago and it’s not even nighttime. How would a werewolf be wandering around in wolf form right now? Besides, it’s not acting like a werewolf. I think it’s just a confused wolf.”

               A familiar scent filled Moony’s nostrils, and he glanced up again, relieved to see the professors nodding and lowering their wands. He glanced to his right and saw Harry and his friends watching with shocked and anxious faces: Hermione chewing her fingernails, Harry biting his lip, and Ron pale faced. Moony whined and hid his face again for good measure.

               “Careful, Severus,” Filius said, “could have that muggle disease—what do they call it?”

               “Rabies,” Severus said. He sounded close. Moony lifted his head and snarled at Severus. The man just narrowed his eyes at him and lifted his wand. “You’d be wise not to bite me, wolf.”

               Moony decided he had enough with acting and simply lowered himself more.

               “Looks like he’s familiar with the stick,” Severus said with a smirk. “I bet he was a pet that either got loose or was turned loose. I’ll let the Magical Creatures Control deal with this mongrel. I’ll handle it from here.”

               Severus conjured a leash and looped it around Moony’s neck. When Severus first pulled, Moony resisted briefly before following the man, keeping his tail tucked. Severus scoffed. “A pet indeed.”

               They were silent on the way to Severus’s quarters. When they entered, Severus vanished the leash and gave Moony an annoyed look.

               “Well, Remus, whatever brought you here had better been worth scaring the entire school! Well?”

               “Remus, eh?” a man sitting in Severus’s armchair said, drinking a cup of tea. Severus whipped out his wand and aimed it at the man while Remus snarled but stayed behind Severus’s legs, peering out with flat ears and bristled fur. The man sipped his tea. “Like the twins raised by the she-wolf? That is either very coincidental or extremely unfortunate luck.”  

               “Who the hell are you?” Severus asked. “And how did you get in here?”

               “Dougal Campbell at your service,” Dougal said, setting his cup down on the coffee table. “I believe your friend owes me something.”

               Several shadows latched on to Moony’s neck and yanked the yelping wolf away from Severus.

               “Hey,” Severus snapped, reaching for Moony, catching the canine by his shoulders, stopping the shadows from pulling the wolf to Dougal. “What are you talking about? What could he possibly owe you?”

               “His life,” Dougal said. “I need him to lure out one of the most dangerous criminals you’ll ever meet. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to stop a serial killer. And that werewolf is the key. The bait.”

               “You mean the man who did this to him?”

               “Exactly.”

               “I will not be used as bait, Severus,” Moony growled.

               “I never said you would be.”

               “Ah-ah,” Dougal shook his finger at Severus. A shadow figure grabbed the man by the shoulders and pulled him away from Moony, keeping Severus’s hands behind his back, the wand falling to the floor. Severus struggled against the shadow, frowning at the strange magic. Several shadows dragged Moony closer to Dougal, the wolf’s claws scraping against the floor as he tried to stop himself. “You two don’t understand. Wolfie has no choice.”

               Moony whined as he was brought closer, then snapped at Dougal’s reaching hand. Severus eyed the teacup on the table and nodded his head once. The cup flew up and smacked Dougal in the face, the hot tea splashing in his eyes. The man cried out and the shadows dropped back down to their castors around the room.

               Severus picked up his wand and slashed it at Dougal. Several roped wrapped around the man, trapping his arms against his side. Dougal collapsed into the chair behind him.

               “What the bloody hell is going on?” Severus snapped.

               Dougal sighed, relaxing in the ropes holding him captive. “I guess I should tell you everything from the beginning.”

               For the next half-hour, Dougal and Moony caught Severus up on Dougal’s plan and Ruse’s taxidermy. Moony explained how he was unable to shift back into Remus, and Dougal explained how he knew all along what would happen to Remus.

               “So, telling Remus about Ruse was the first step to some elaborate scheme?” Severus asked Dougal.

               “Sadly, yes,” Dougal said, shaking his head. “What has become of me? The need for revenge turns the best of us into monsters. But I need to stop this man. And as unfortunate as it is, Ruse is coming for Moony.”

               “Because of you,” Severus glared.

               “I’ll take the blame, but that will not stop Ruse. Only I can stop him. Only I can touch him. He must be destroyed.”

               “There has to be a way that Moony doesn’t have to die in all this.”

               “Perhaps not. My plan was just to keep him tied down in an isolated location until Ruse showed up. Then, I would ambush the man.”

               “Or I could help you,” Moony said, sitting up from where he had been laying on the floor. “We can come up with a plan together to capture Ruse. All three of us. Trust me, I would love to take some revenge for what he did to me.”

               “How do I know you won’t go awol?” Dougal frowned.

               “You can trust me,” Moony smiled, his ears perking. “Besides, I don’t have much else to lose.”

               Dougal narrowed his eyes, then sighed. “Fine. We’ll work together.”

               A blackish smoke surrounded the man and he stood up, the ropes collapsing in the chair. The man fixed his fedora and crossed his arms. “But the slightest sign of betrayal from you or you and I’ll skin you both myself.”

               “Threat noted,” Severus said. “And just so we’re clear, you could’ve escaped those ropes this whole time.”

               “Yes,” Dougal said. “Now, we have a lot of planning to do. Ruse is a cunning man.”

               A loud knock on the door echoed in the room. Severus waited until Moony had backed out of sight before opening the door. It was Harry.

               “Not a good time, Harry,” Severus said, ready to shut the door.

               “Is Moony okay?” Harry said, pushing through. “What happened? He looked scared.”

               Moony whined and leaped over to Harry, nuzzling the boy. Harry hugged the wolf and looked back at Severus.

               “Moony’s having a rough day,” Severus said. “Now please, you need to leave.”

               Harry noticed the darkly dressed stranger in the room and narrowed his eyes.

               “Who are you?”

               “Dougal Campbell,” the man said reaching out to shake Harry’s hand. Harry accepted the handshake. Dougal looked to Severus, “Is he your ward or something?”

               “No,” Severus said, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and backing the boy into himself and away from Dougal. Severus looked down at Harry. “And he will be leaving.”

               “What’s going on?” Harry asked. “I want to know.”

               “You don’t need to know, at least not now. Now please stay with your friends. Our visit tonight will be postponed. I will let you know when I can to see you, okay?”

               “Okay,” Harry said, allowing himself to be herded out of Severus’s quarters. “Just tell me Moony is okay.”

               “Moony is fine. Now run along. I know you have Charms in fifteen minutes.”

               “Yes, sir. See ya later.”

               Severus shut the door and leaned against it. He hoped Harry’s curious nature wouldn’t peak during this dangerous operation. He could not risk the boy’s safety. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his foal. Moony whined at Harry’s departure.

               “Do not,” Dougal said in a firm voice, “let Ruse see that child with either of you. That man is not afraid to exploit weaknesses. Until he is defeated, stay away from the lad.”

               “I will not allow anyone to threaten or endanger Harry,” Severus said.

               “I’m sure you would not, but you would also not be able to stop Ruse on your own. Let’s get planning.”

               Later that night, Dougal long gone, Moony laid on the couch in Severus’s quarters. He was trapped as a wolf. He could not change back. He was no longer in control anymore. Just like when he did not have the wolfsbane potion, but this time, he was no longer a man turning into a beast. He was just a beast. A monster that had frightened the entire school. He couldn’t even go home—once again. It was just like old times. History liked to repeat itself, didn’t it? It wasn’t fair.

               “Moony,” Severus said, stepping out from the kitchen with a plate of chicken, rice, and vegetables. The large centaur set the plate on the couch cushion. “You should eat.”

               Moony didn’t move. Severus bit his inner cheek before lying down in the living room, gathering his legs under him. Severus pulled a stack of essays toward him and began grading. Moony watched the man work for a few minutes before he huffed and stared off blankly.

               “How do you do it?” Moony asked.

               “Do what?”

               “This. Every night of every day or every year. Cursed with an affliction you never asked for—how do you live with it?”

               “I’ve had to live like this since I was three-years-old. I was born into this curse. I would think you of all people would get how I have to live like this all the time.”

               “I did nothing,” Moony growled, ears flat. “I was innocent and young, and I did nothing. Yet here I am, a werewolf. Now I am trapped in the beast of this monster forever. But this time, it is my fault.”

               Severus’s ears lowered slightly, but he looked back at the essays and continued grading. After a few corrections, he said, “I did nothing too. Yet here I am paying for the sins of another. And I let this curse define me for so long that it turned me down several dark paths. Yet, learning to see the curse in a new light gave me a foal to protect . . . and a friend.”

               Moony’s ears perked and he looked over at Severus. Severus continued grading. Moony laid his head back down. “My affliction has given me a friend as well. Funny how we were never friends when we were younger. We fight the same battle and bear similar scars, yet we let petty rivalry keep us apart.”

               “We were both young,” Severus said. “And we both thought we were alone.”

               It took Moony a minute to respond. “You’re right. We were monsters facing a prejudice world alone. How has it taken me this long to realize we were the victims in a world full of monsters? I get it now. Looks truly are deceiving.”

               “I guess they are,” Severus said. “They really are.”