บท 10: Moonlit Dinner
Moonlit Dinner
Having to pack for my return home for the winter holidays was a novel experience, while taking the Hogwarts Express to start and end the academic year was... confusing. Or at least, it left me feeling slightly sacrilegious as I exploited something that I had always associated with the beginning and the end of the 'actively magic' part of my life to fuck off to do my own thing.
Not that it stopped me from performing magic during the summer. I amended in my head, recalling not only my ritual, but the countless uses of cleaning charms that allowed me to upkeep both my dying father and the house itself.
Once I left the train at London, I moved brusquely among the reuniting families, ignoring the now-familiar pooling of bile at the mouth of my stomach when I thought about the reasons why the kind and diminutive wizard that believed himself my father was not here to welcome me back. With my trunk shrunk and in one of the large pockets of my cloak, I wasted no time before entering the muggle section of London, soon ducking into the first small alley I saw.
Roaming London in the middle of WWII with my size will only make people wonder why I'm not a soldier. I snorted at the idea of sending my 12 years old self to fight with rifles, or even adult me once I was of age: by then my fingers would be too large to pull a trigger.
I banished those thoughts from my head in order to focus on my target: my house was concealed to the world, but not to me. Blood of the son... I shook my head as I pictured the stretch of land that I spent countless hours familiarizing myself with during the past couple of years, and, as I spun on myself, I held my breath and pushed.
The world shattered around me with a thunderous crack, and I felt myself being stretched across an impossible distance even as I pushed back with controlled strength against the immense pressure that threatened to snap me out of my apparition, but not strong enough to break the magic myself. Another whipping crack heralded my arrival on what appeared to be an empty stretch of damp grass.
Empty, if not for the tall ash tree that I had spent my last month of summer to enchant so that its appearance wouldn't raise suspicion. I spotted the metallic tint of some of the dark green leaves, which revealed my transfigured adaptation of a lightning rod so that it would keep the tree that I paid so dearly for from being struck down by Nature.
The ash tree was maybe 15 meters tall, and besides its isolated position in an otherwise empty stretch of grassland, there was nothing that gave it away as being something more. Luckily for me, the concept of shadow lent itself extremely well to concealment. In the summer, not only I had used the creation of a shadow to bind the concealing ward, but all of the elements of the ritual were highly resonating with the secrecy I wanted.
The wand had been snapped, revealing the core for an instant before covering it once more in a permanent manner, keeping it underground. The sacrifice of my father had been obtained through deceit. And blood was naturally hidden from the world by skin, not only that, but my nature as Half-Giant was a secret by itself. Okay, I admit I don't know how my demi-giant status would influence the ritual, but it seems that it simply made the ash tree bigger.
"Heh, 140 km in less than a second." I grinned wildly: moving towards Albania for the first time would be a pain, forcing me to perform small jumps in order to go in the direction I wanted to. To be truthful, during my precedent life, I had, in fact, visited both Madrid and Rome, but I'd rather not risk splattering myself across the Spanish countryside only to check if images of another world were enough a match to guide me in this one. I simply couldn't be sure that said memories were true enough to work for standard Apparition.
I ignored the sharp coldness of the English countryside in winter as I brought myself forward, my eyes peeled on the faint shadow that I cast thanks to the small Lumos I was keeping up behind my head. After a few steps, my shadow crossed with the one cast by the apparently normal ash tree and it seemed to cause a ripple over the damp grass in front of me. Powering up a little the light that I was using, I fully stepped within the 'shadow' that would be forever cast over my property. At least until the ash tree lives.
After a single instant during which everything darkened as if cast in shadow, the world seemed to be perfectly normal, only that now I was able to see the true shape of the ash tree, its trunk looking like two limbs twisting forever one beside the other, or at least until they branched out into the large canopy of black, shadowy leaves that rustled silently in the wind.
I briefly landed my large hand on the bark of the tree, feeling its unnatural warmth and life even as my eyes turned towards the hut that I had still to modify to properly suit my tastes. I still need to test the Floo. I reminded myself. It should work, Grimmauld 12's Floo worked even while it was unplottable, so besides it not being traceable on whatever registry the ministry has, the concealment shouldn't interfere...
I entered my cold and empty house without stopping to consider why it was so, and dropped my trunk in the middle of my room, quickly rummaging through it in order to set out what I would need for the next couple of weeks. Lot of road to cover.
"Let's say I dedicate ten days to go forward, and I spend two days returning, hopping by areas that I'll memorize on the first stretch of my travel." I spoke with clear eagerness in my voice. Moving outside of that house, meant stretching my legs for the first time since my appearance in the world of Harry Potter, and I could scarcely contain my enthusiasm.
I donned the heavy leather boots that I had purchased during the previous summer along with thick, woolen trousers that brimmed with pockets, off went the school white shirt and over my undershirt, I let settle a heavy woolen jumper. I then spread the collection of vials that I had prepared in what free time I had in the last months, organizing them in the soft confines of the multiple pockets I had available. A large selection of charms had been used to stitch together the coats once owned by my father, that now seemed a depressing parody of a harlequin's trenchcoat. A leather satchel went to complete the ensemble, in which I placed a few changes of clothes and the nutritional potions that I had brewed to prepare myself for days on the road.
A vial containing the focused sunlight of a summer's afternoon was left hanging by a low leather cord by my neck, and I shivered pleasurably at the warmth. Almost ready.
In front of the only mirror of the house, I jabbed at my face with my wand, the prank spell leaving the length of holly without issue and striking me cleanly on the jaw: immediately, a thick, black, bushy beard sprouted from my once smooth jawline, covering the few young-looking features that my height and build didn't manage to hide. One can never know if Dumbledore is going to do his memory trip lane not only with Riddle, but with me too.
The pewter cauldron that rested near my cold fireplace was quickly turned into the size of a thimble and secured in one of my pockets. And I was soon briskly walking outside, eager to taste my newfound freedom in a world that spanned indefinitely in every direction. I could make do with a staff to walk... I snorted as I imagined myself as a random Gandalf across Europe, and when I left the concealed safety of my own house, I pulled a shrunk telescope from one of my pockets, looked for a suitable place, and I Apparated.
Repurposing the telescope that we used for Astronomy had been pure, unadulterated genius. Clearsight lenses, which sported a small auto-focusing charm, allowed me to see even in the dim light offered by an overcast sky, and I was thusly able to apparate as far as my eye could see.
I kept Apparating south until I found a stretch of sea, sadly, having to rely on sight in order to obtain a target for my apparition meant that while on the plains, Earth's curvature stopped me from seeing further than 5 kilometers ahead. I hope I soon spot some mountains, so I can jump over the plains.
The plan was to Apparate south in short bursts until I reached Bristol's Canal. from there, south again until I met the sea, that I would then keep on my right until Dover. From there, I hoped to be able to Apparate directly in France, otherwise, a small boat would need to be temporarily requisitioned. I would set up a small base of sorts on the south of England, and another a few kilometers within French inland. My itinerary was based on my rough geography skills, something that I had to study as a child, but that I guessed wouldn't help me too much right now.
It would be easier to simply apparate back to London and then go south from there, but I don't know how the Ministry tracking works. I entertained for an instant the idea of infiltrating the ministry and steal myself something interesting instead of simply traveling south, but there would be time for many heists, for the time being, I was ready to travel, and travel I would.
Once in France, I would go south-south-east full throttle, hopefully reaching the Mediterranean Sea that I would keep on my right until I reached Italy. Then I would move a bit North, always directed towards East, until I spotted the Alps. I would then travel along their length, because I had no interest whatsoever in sightseeing a fascist Italy, until I spotted the Adriatic Sea. Once there, I would simply travel across current Yugoslavia until I reached Albania. There I would need to look for a forest, in that forest I would need to find a hollow tree, which held Ravenclaw's diadem.
Admittedly, the chances of finding the Diadem with a single attempt were slim.
Yeah, it's a fucking long trip. I admitted to myself that it was unlikely that I would be able to do much with less than 10 days before I had to turn back, but at least it would give me the occasion of setting up something to help my summer's travels, and admittedly, staying into a castle for most of my time was making me go a bit stir-crazy. At least from the top of the Mont Blanc, I should able to hop cleanly across Italy: from there the view must be breathtaking.
One day I would snoop around the magical district of the cities I crossed, no doubt, but I was somewhat pressed for time. While I had your everyday Joe's historical knowledge, I wasn't aware of the movements of wizardkind across Europe, and being spotted as one Rubeus Hagrid, on my own, camouflaging as an adult, would have raised much more questions that I would be comfortable answering to. I also had to stick to the countryside, moving fast enough so that I wouldn't be gunned down by an eventual sniper.
The sights were interesting enough... the first time I saw them. Without music, without company, without even being drunk because I kind of needed to be sober in order to be sure that I wouldn't kill myself by Apparating inside of a boulder, my travel quickly evolved from an exciting exploration to a bullheaded march across England.
At the end of the third day, I was walking at a brisk pace across the french countryside, my ears peeled as my eyes were in order to spot an eventual group of trigger-happy soldiers. Being able to Apparate in a rough radius of five kilometers was enough to keep me from stumbling in a potentially deadly situation, and while I was less enthusiastic than I had been when I left my home, I could see myself traveling across the world during the next summer.
The wind whipped harshly across the land, the grey clouds that hid the sky were bloated with water that they didn't want yet to relinquish, and yet the full moon managed to peek through from time to time, while the trees seemed to be whispering among themselves, rustling as if they knew that a storm was about to break the tense air of the cold December.
Seeing that the sun was almost completely set, and the moon already had begunu her climb in the sky, I apparated to the nearest woods, where I quickly moved a few hundred meters behind the treeline in order to set up a stable camp: "Might as well set up something half permanent, I could hop here with just five or six jumps next summer."
I hummed to myself as I unsheathed my wand, relishing in the warmth that traveled eagerly across my body as I started casting. Transfiguration changed the Shape of things, that was what my very first lesson with Dumbledore explained to me. But Shape was a multitude of details, it went from the material to the form, generally whispering 'fuck you' to anything even remotely related to the Law of Conservation of Mass.
Simply changing the form of something wasn't all that hard at the end of the day. It was one of the reasons why Minerva had been able to mold the stones necessary to wall off the Rùnda from the rest of the castle, and my potion has simply brought the stone together, reminding them of their common origins, of the countless years spent huddled together in the dark under the Black Lake, bearing the weight of the water above them.
But, even if I lacked Minerva's talent or amount of practice when it came to Transfiguration, I could cheat.
Following the small routine that I had thought exactly for these circumstances, I weaved my magic.
Powerful summoning and levitation spells uprooted small trees, quickly cleaning up a small clearing, before gouging charms violently tore the earth in a rough square. After a series of floating charms, I pulled and pushed the uprooted trees into their new bases in the ground, before fishing in one of my pockets a vial that revealed a shining leafy green potion inside. One that I hoped wouldn't backfire spectacularly when I used it.
I walked in the inner perimeter of the 6x6 meters square I had cordoned off with the selection of birch trees that I had placed all around, stabbing the white bark of each of them until I spotted the rasin inside, sluggish because of the winter. Between each tree, I let fall three drops of the bright green concoction, and I had to jump back after I moved the earth back to cover the roots of the trees.
Just like Slughorn's first example of magic, I had managed to create a variation of a potion that strongly agreed with just any form of greenery. When used on a seed it would bring out a plant of respectable dimensions. Only, I had added some shavings of Devil's Snare, with Nightglory Blossoms in order to stave off the plant's need for darkness. After all, it wouldn't do for my new abode to come undone each time the trees went into the nightly phases of their metabolism.
Soon enough, a thick succession of intertwining, twisting white vines sprouted from the ground, curling around each trunk before throwing themselves one against another, quickly binding themselves together as if they had spent years being tended to by an expert gardener. The happy-go-lucky vines' activity slowed down and eventually stopped just as it reached the start of the Birch trees' canopy, which remained without leaves, stretching itself towards a still heavy clouded sky.
Once the vines had settled, they started to sprout Birch leaves, blending in with the trees that made the pillars of the structure I had just created.
"Now, floor, roof and entrance." I remembered myself as I felt the first drops of rainfall over my hooded head, "Then wards, just to be sure."
The magic of my potion had revived the Birch trees, that now seemed to stretch hungrily towards the sky, eager to drink in order to get started with their newly improved metabolism: "Yeah, winters will hold you asleep no more."
I pointed my wand at the leafless canopy over my head, and abused yet another charm that had no business whatsoever with working in this situation: "Nodo."
Using to make knots, the Nodo charm was standardized to work on strings, ropes, and even laces. Never before it had been used on branches, and yet, shaped and directed by my understanding of the concept of binding together, and aided by the intertwining nature of the potion that was powering the renewal of the Birch trees around me, it worked.
The branches stretched one over another, almost like crossed fingers, or hands joining together.
Soon, I found myself in the dark, isolated from the rest of the forest. A quick Lumos solved my problem.
I turned on myself brandishing my wand in a circular motion reminiscent of the cutting charm, and just like that, the leaves that had grown on this side of the vines fell to the ground, quickly covering the entirety of my abode under the precise direction of my practiced wand motions.
Another small trasnfiguration turned the vibrant green leaves in ceramic tiles that neatly covered the floor, leaving a single circle were I levitated some rocks in order to create a small firepit.
Lastly, I picked up a branch, hollowing it out and transfiguring it into the same steel I had grown to know thanks to the matchstick-to-needle lesson, with another levitaion and sticking charm, I had a chimney.
I finally walked towards a couple of trunks that I had knowingly set a bit furhter apart from one another, I cut off an opening that led me in the small clearing where my newest abode was, and the last transfiguration of the day provided me with a door.
Finally, I stepped outside, taking a critical look at my handiwork: where before there had been yet another stretch of the woods, there was now a small clearing, with box-ish hedges of white wood and vibrant green leaves that clearly defined my base. From the green canopy that had no business being so lively in winter, a steely chimney pocked out, a faint trail of smoke quickly disappearing in the cold air.
"Now, to the concealment charms." I muttered to myself while I walked a large circle at the edge of the clearing. Aside from a few specific charms that were still beyond my reach, mostly beacuse I hadn't practiced them enough, I had a singularly good understanding of the idea of concealment, thanks to the Metamorphosis ritual that I had performed in the summer. And said understanding came to me swiftly when I pulled on it, using the local nature of the birch trees to blur the difference between my creation and the rest of the woods.
It wasn't something targeted to either muggles or wizards, and there weren't words to reinforce the symbolism. It wasn't something that I had read around, but very much like I had shaped the flames in the fireplace during my first year, my understanding and practice was enough to allow me to conceal the abode.
I could have attempted the more standard Fianto Duri, but from my reading, I had come to understand that a Shield would work better when blatant, and it would conflict, if only marginally, with the purpose of the concealment ward.
My ward wasn't about withstanding an attack, wasn't about defiance and impossible resistance, it was more oblique. The two were similar in the sense that both were targeted towards outsiders, but where the Shield spells were almost a banner that openly held back the enemy, my Concealment Ward simply slid away from the attention of any that came close.
There wasn't a shield in my wards because there was nothing to protect. While I knew that something existed, just beyond the shadows and under the green leaves, it was something unimportant, something that didn't need defense, and something that didn't deserve anyone's attention.
Once I was done, I used the sequence of painfully tedious charms to set up a small bathroom inside of the shack, made use of it, and set myself to sleep on a hammock that stretched just aside from the firepit.
The howling was what woke me from my slumber.
I rolled immediately off the hammock, my eyes wide open and wand in hand, only to hear another furious howl cut through the night. There was something to it... a shiver went down my back.
Werewolves? I wondered while I quickly dressed myself, ready to bolt and abandon my little shack. Would my concealing ward keep he werewolves away? If indeed they are werewolves and I'm not simply paranoid.
Anotehr howl cut through the night, it was almost fainter, but it still carried with it the weight of magic. It wasn't something easy to define, but the impression that it was directed at me, even while I was reasonably sure of my safety, was undoubtedly magic in nature. And maybe I was simply ignorant, but there weren't that many creatures taht howled with the full moon.
Another howl, this time it was clearly closer to my position, and then I heard a gunshot that rang like thunder in the night. Muggles too, because why the fuck not.
"Just my luck." ready to bolt, I quietly made my way out of my shack after killing the flames with a jab of my wand.
I opened the door and quickly cast 'Silencio' on myself, there was no need to attract whatever was roaming the woods during the night. The trees were way too thin to support my weight uness I charmed them unbreakable, so they didn't represent a safe place to wait out the night: any escape route would include Apparition. Howling and gunshots echoed in my ears once more, and I grimaced. Besides, this is wartime, and everyone is triggerhappy.
Another faint gunshot echoed through the night, and I froze in the act of Apparating away.
Unless I was greatly mistaken, if muggles could kill werewolves with simple guns, they wouldn't be as fucking problematic as they were. There was only so much fear that a creature could inflict in the psyche of wizardkind when it could be stopped by a simple piece of stone launched like a bullet.
Was I going to let whoever it was to the mercy of a random magical-howling-whatever? Knowing perfectly well that the chances of a firearm to stop the creature were basically nil?
Was it my business? No. And yet, I didn't move.
Should I simply walk away? Yes.
Did I want to? Yes, I wasn't even remotely equipped to tangle with what I suspected was a werewolf, staying was the pinnacle of stupidity.
Could I simply leave, when my very first decision in this life had been to change the world for the better?
I could do and become anything I wanted: there were potions to distil liquid luck, spells to call forth storms and create secret passages between walls, Faeries and Cerberi, secrets nobody knew anything about, and the future of the world to shape if a single man was in the position of doing something about it.
And I could. Given the longevity that Hagrid had shown in the books, I had a lot of time to become everything I could be.
To change the world for the better.
Would it matter if I let this random muggle being torn to shreds? It likely wouldn't, a single person was less than a blip on the radar of History.
But it would matter to me.
Abandoning my half thoughts of Apparating away, I turned towards the gunshots, whose frequence had drastically lowered, and I cast 'Lumos'. Bright and uncaring of the night around me, I remembered when I had first captured dawnbreak, and just like the dawn, golden light issued forth from the tip of my wand while I started to run, my demi-giant legs crunching the uneven ground like I was born for it.
"Here!" I thundered, whipping my wand forth like the handle of a whip, producing a sharp *crack* that spread in the night, interrupting the last howl that came from my front, "I'm here you fuckers!"
While I ran, my eyes devoured the surroundings, and another gesture of my wand landed a rough branch in my free hand. Matchstick-to-needle had been my first lesson: 'You'll learn that once-living materials such as wood don't like to be turned into dead metal'
Dead metal? Who could say that metal was truly dead? Why would dead wood cling to life so fiercely as to oppose a transfiguration? Didn't electrons move around all the atoms? Was life dependant on the complexity of proteins and cells? Why would magic care about that? Wasn't life about fighting? About elbowing the world so that there was a place in the sun for you too?
High on adrenaline, I pointed my wand on the sturdy branch on my left hand. My first needle didn't come out alright because I lacked 'will', if I were to listen to Dumbledore. But now that I understood a little better the mechanisms of magic, I could infer that I had lacked another important piece of the puzzle: back then, I knew that the needle that I wanted didn't serve any purpose, the transfiguration itself had been my focus.
Now, I needed a final result.
I was going to save the people trying to gun down the magical creature, and with 'Lignoverto' I crafted myself some help. The wood rippled and flattened as if made of water, its colour turning steely grey while it slipped out of my fingers, only to remain floating at my side as I barreled through the trees.
And it was while I ran, somewhat still focused on the transfiguration that I had just completed, that a gray blur almost barreled into me.
I reacted as fast as I could, turning on a dime while I summoned myself towards a tree that I had just bypassed, neatly avoiding the humunguous beast that would have ripped away a limb had its attack been successful.
Surely enough, I stumbled on the scene of a carnage, under the golden blazing of my wand, I counted six immobile bodies scattered along a country road that led to a small village far on my right.
I turned sharply, a brilliant gout of flame forcing an incoming werewolf into a hasty retreat, even if it appeared unarmed from the scalding heat, only to almost fall to my knees when a weight fell in the middle of my back. My wand, still held aloft over my head reacted to the panic that fueled my will: "Away!"
The air ruptured under the sudden pressure that drove me to the ground, dislodging the werewolf before it could sink its fangs into me, even if I felt a claw rip through my clotes and cut open the skin over my shoulder.
I rolled back to my feet, adrenaline keeping me going and fire once more blossoming from the tip of my wand while I directed it to cover my back, almost like an hungry curtain that crackled in the air. Because of course there would be two werewolves instead of one.
Another gunshot broke into the night, and my eyes found the origin: slumped against a birch's trunk, with a rail thin woman was held protectively within his bloodied arms, a man was frantically looking into the night, his eyes half squinted to ward off the bright light that I was so freely giving off.
Hastly, I directed the steely kite-like shield I had created between the two muggles and the incoming werewolf, briefly splitting my attention to the other creature that had circumvented the wall of flame that was still standing behind me.
The first werewolf tore through the improvised shield like it wasn't even there, reducing it to splinters of wood that immediately lost their steely purpose. Fuck.
The second rounded on the still shooting muggle, whose eyes were wide with mad fear and almost unfocused with panic.
And in a single istant, I knew what I had to do.
Dancig teapots meant little, teapots weren't alive in any sense of the term. But the trees were, if slumbering because of the winter.
Almost faster than conscious thought, I pushed the same intense will to FIGHT into the birch against which were slumped the two muggles, there was no transfiguration involved, the enchantment was simple, if tricky, and not something that I had ever attempted before.
The symbol was ready to channel the meaning that rang so clearly in my head. Fire. So versatile and elegant. Flame of Life, Burning of Battle, Brightness to Defend against the dark.
The fire that I had used to keep off one werewolf coalesced istantaneously in the leafless canopy of the birch tree, almost as a crown of righteous anger, and two branches snapped sideways, hurling the werewolves away from the muggles with a strenght and a speed that were impossible for any living being, even more for a tree.
I almost took a step forward to charge at the still flailing werewolves, when I stopped.
Which was my purpose? To fight werewolves that for all I knew were unaware of their condition, or to save the muggles?
The flames on the tree died down as soon as the burst of life was spent in the defence of the man and the woman, a second later, I reached the muggles, and Apparated away.
In the non-space that was apparition, I clung to the two muggles with all of my strenght whilt I pushed myself against the tight confines that pressed against us, just enough to not break them apart, just enough to not allow them to crush me.
We landed with a sharp *crack* in a clearing I had prepared in the north of France the day before, in sight of one of the shacks I was so proud of, and under a full moon only partially hiddn by the occasional cloud. I hadn't dared apparate to my last abode, fearing it too close to the werewolves.
My attention swiftly returned to the muggles, who were shaking in pain even if they were uncounscious. A couple of swipes of my wand secured them with ropes so that they wouldn't hurt each other or themselves.
They were a mess. I gagged at the sight: the man had a chunk of meat torn away from his left shoulder which was bleedig profusely on the ground, while the woman missed a couple of fingers from one hand.
I couldn't heal them. Oh, I had Dittany, sure, but without silver...
The memory of sacrificing Hagrid's father came prepotently to my mind. If they are to die anyway...
I immediately grimaced in self-recrimination.
Do I actually need to ritualize their death? Even if I had a clearcut way of doing so... would I want to? Still high on adrenaline, I had no idea what possessed me to actually seek out the origin of the gunshot, or at least, I was... conflicted, about what I had just done, about what I had risked myself for.
In for a knut...
Setting my shoulders, I decided to try and save them: "This will fucking hurt, people." I warned the strangers even if I knew he couldn't hear me.
I sat down next to the bitten muggles that were trashing horribly in their bonds while the curse ran its course, slowly but surely spreading within their blood. I started dropping dittany on their open wounds, knowing that I needed silver to completely close them. Silver that I didn't have.
And the man, in particular, was bleeding massively.
I need to grant properties to counter the werewolf curse to something in order to close the wound. I thought with a grimace, feeling the mental tiredness of the fight and Apparition slam into me like a tidal wave, almost causing me to fall uncounscious.
And I need it fast.
AN
FINALLY SOME FUCKING ACTION!
Yeah, I skipped the training necessary to Apparate, but I placed it in the previous summer. Everyone by now knows about Apparating, and nobody needs to read about a succession of failures that eventually obtains success.
So, Hagrid is geared up and starts moving, eventually, trouble finds him, and his travel is once more stopped.
I don't know you, but I tend to be fucking annoyed when I have to remember random OCs... but there is really nothing I can do about that: we are in 1941! I can find people that you've heard mentioned, and make use of them, but that's limited to wizardkind in UK and maybe from MACUSA because of Fantastic Beasts. I try to limit the already super-concentrated character interaction between the MC and people you can easily visualize and recognize (also because if I had the time to pull off good OCs from my ass, I would write an original fantasy, and you wouldn't see me here), but there is only so much I can do.
This was the first travel of Hagrid, first seen apparition, first shack-building, and the first stop at his house, so I had to describe it to set the tone for the next travels, I hope it didn't result boring.
And yeah! He saves the strangers! There is still hope for the MC!
I hope this out-of-school interlude agreed with you and injected some adrenaline into the story, which while interesting, was a bit flat in my opinion. I was thinking of keeping up this rhythm: school - winter hols - school - summer hols. It would allow me to spread magic - character interaction -worldbuilding - adventure in a somewhat smooth manner (obviously the sections will be separated in chapters suited to the story that is being told).
As for the werewolves... I've seen countless fictions in which random transfiguration is enough to kill them, but... why would everyone freak out so much if any random wizard could simply transfigure wood into stone and drop the werewolf underwater? There is the 'magical resistance' thing that everybody ascribes to magical creatures, but if 'incendio' or a big ass aguamenti was enough to deal with a werewolf, they wouldn't be nearly so terrifying.
In this fic, shit that is rumored to be able to kill you, actually kills you.
Opinions? Ideas?
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