"What? You an there's a group of poor little things waiting to be rescued? Damn it, those wretched smugglers wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of a magical creature. Every year, so many die in transit because of their incompetence. Take there at once, I need to see them myself!"
Professor Kettleburn, his hair a shock of wiry gray, bristled with indignation the mont Alan finished his report. He grabbed his cane, ready to move.
"Let us bring them to the castle, Professor. The journey is far too strenuous for you," Alan said, eyeing the old man's prosthetic leg and the way he leaned heavily on his mahogany staff.
"I'm not too old to move! Less talk, lead the way. It's a good thing you didn't just release them; the sudden shock of a new environnt would have claid half of them in their current state," Kettleburn barked. He tapped his prosthetic leg with his wand, channeling a burst of magic that sent him darting nimbly to Alan's side.
"This..." Alan looked at the stubborn professor and exchanged a resigned glance with Hagrid. "Alright. We go."
"How about this—I'll take the Professor in the sidecar, and Alan, you lead the way on your broom," Hagrid suggested, slapping his thigh with a sound like a small explosion.
The three set off imdiately. Hagrid brought out the reinforced motorcycle Sirius Black had given him, settled the wrinkled but spirited Professor into the sidecar, and roared into the sky behind Alan.
"Professor, you still haven't answered my question about the moon-bred wolf cub," Alan called over the wind. Kettleburn had been so frantic to leave that he'd ignored the technical details.
Hunched in the sidecar and wearing thick flight goggles, Kettleburn looked over at him. "The research is quite clear, Alan! Offspring conceived by werewolves in their transford state do not carry the lycanthropy virus. They are a separate biological phenonon entirely. However, I'll run a diagnostic on-site just to be certain. A talking wolf nad Hog... fascinating! I can't wait to see the lad."
Alan felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He pushed his broom to its limit, the wind whistling past his ears. His school-standard broom was significantly slower than Hagrid's enchanted machine, so he had to supplent the flight with steady pulses of his own magic to keep the lead.
They reached the hidden hollow in just over an hour. Upon landing, Alan located Kiki. She was still under the effects of the Glimr Cloak, a silent shadow near the entrance.
"Master! Kiki has been watching the rock. No one has co near!" she reported, shimring back into view as Alan took the cloak from her shoulders.
"Good work, Kiki. Rest for a mont. We'll need your help inside the cave shortly," Alan said, offering a nod of approval.
"Yes, Master! Kiki is ready for the next mission." The elf stood ramrod straight. She was still prone to awkward expressions, but the paralyzing timidity was slowly being replaced by a sense of duty.
"Alan, since when did you pick up a house-elf?" Hagrid asked, rubbing his stomach. He'd shared a at pie with Kettleburn mid-flight and was feeling the effects of the turbulence.
"I found her while tracking the pack. Her previous master was murdered by Greyback's group," Alan explained briefly.
"Those monsters... no respect for life," Kettleburn muttered, his face darkening. "Now, show the children. So species fade quickly when they're kept in the dark."
Alan heaved the stone slab aside and used a Levitation Charm to guide Professor Kettleburn down into the tunnel. Hagrid followed, though he had to hunch his massive fra and duck his head to avoid scraping the ceiling.
By now, the prisoners were fully awake. The cave was a cacophony of pained cries and frantic scratching as the creatures reacted to the light and the scent of new arrivals.
"rciful heavens!" Kettleburn gasped as he hobbled into the main chamber, his eyes darting to the cages. "Look at them... what did those animals do to these poor things?"
Hagrid's eyes welled with tears. His "maiden heart" was clearly overwheld, especially when he spotted the scarred Manticore. "Oh, look at you, you beautiful little darling," he cooed, reaching for the latch. Alan had to physically catch his arm to stop him from releasing a starving, territorial predator into a confined space.
"Benefactor, you're back." Hog called out from his cell, his tail giving a single, tentative wag. He looked at Alan with wide, hopeful eyes—resembling a Husky waiting for a treat. To Alan, the expression was slightly unsettling, given he knew the "dog" could hold a conversation.
"Professor," Alan gestured toward the fourth cell. "This is the one I told you about."
Kettleburn turned his full attention to Hog. He approached the bars with a look of profound tenderness, speaking to the wolf in a low, soothing tone. After hearing Hog's story and observing his behavior, the Professor produced a vial of sapphire-blue reagent. He took a swab of Hog's saliva, mixed it into the liquid, and perford a series of rapid, intricate wand movents.
Finally, he turned back to Alan, his expression relieved. "He's clean. No trace of the virus. He's perfectly safe."
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