Witcher at Hogwarts

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Tonks took the potion from Ethan, uncorked it, and drank it quickly as she lifted her head.

Almost instantly, her eyes shifted, adjusting to the darkness that had been barely visible moments before. Her pupils transformed into narrow, feline-like slits.

"My God! This is incredible!" Tonks gasped in amazement.

Ethan offered a small smile, and together, they ventured into the dark cave.

From the moment they approached the entrance, Ethan's heightened Witcher senses had been on full alert, picking up every detail around them. Even the faint heartbeat of a mouse couldn't escape him. Yet, inside the cave, there was a strange, unsettling silence.

As they delved deeper, Ethan realized the cave wasn't as vast as it had first appeared. In fact, it was surprisingly small and confined.

There was no sign of life, though some worn everyday items suggested recent use. Ethan spotted a cold bonfire, long extinguished by the wind and snow, now covered with ice. Nearby, two crude beddings, one large and one small, made from animal skins, lay abandoned.

Ethan knelt and felt the bedding. It was cold, indicating the occupants had left a long time ago. His eyes then fell on the half-eaten corpse of the horse, reduced to bare bones. Several teeth marks, deep and wide, marred the bones, with some snapped clean in half.

Tonks exhaled in relief, seeing there was no immediate danger.

Ethan, however, continued to survey the cave meticulously. His gaze locked onto the deep claw marks gouged into the cave's rock walls. Upon closer inspection, he quickly identified them: werewolf scratches.

His investigation didn't stop there. Scattered around the cave were tufts of thick, black fur — unmistakably werewolf hair. It all pointed to one conclusion: this cave was a shelter for werewolves during their transformations.

Tonks picked up a strand of fur and studied it with a frown.

"Is it a werewolf?" she asked.

"Could the monster causing all this havoc, as the letter said, be a werewolf?"

"Unlikely," Ethan responded, shaking his head.

"They hired wizards to deal with it. They wouldn't need a wizard if it were just a werewolf."

Tonks huffed, curling her lips in dissatisfaction.

"Alright..."

With the cave fully explored and no immediate answers, the pair prepared to leave. But just as they were about to exit, a glint of light from under one of the bedrolls caught Ethan's eye. He quickly moved to investigate, uncovering a small silver pendant with a broken chain.

Opening the pendant, Ethan found a picture of a little girl inside. The name "Nina" was engraved beside the portrait. Judging by the broken chain, Ethan pieced together what had happened: the werewolf must have been wearing this pendant when she transformed, their growing size snapping the delicate chain.

Though the cave hadn't revealed many answers, one detail still nagged at Ethan. Why were there two bedrolls?

"You know, the transformation of a werewolf is incredibly painful, and during that time, they lose all sense of rationality," Ethan explained.

"Which is why they usually endure the night of the full moon alone."

Tonks nodded, glancing back at the two bedrolls. "But these two bunks mean someone else was here... and the smaller one suggests the second person was either a child or a small adult."

The realization hung as they stepped out of the cave and returned to the torn-up horse carcass. Ethan, ever vigilant, soon spotted another set of footprints nearby. These human tracks were chaotic, with blood spattered across the ground in places. Fortunately, the amount of blood was minimal, suggesting the person might still be alive.

They followed the trail for what seemed like an eternity. The footprints stretched on and on until, at last, they found the source: a man, now lying dead in the snow.

The middle-aged man's body was stiff, frozen in the biting cold. A deep wound marred his shoulder, a vicious claw mark now frozen solid. But this injury wasn't what killed him. Blood had flowed freely from his nose and mouth, staining the snow in a dark red pool beneath his head.

"Oh my God—what happened to him?" Tonks asked, her breath catching as she took in the grim scene.

Ethan didn't immediately respond. He crouched beside the corpse, examining it with care. The man's lifeless eyes were fixed in the direction of a small village in the distance. Low houses dotted the landscape, and smoke curled lazily from a few chimneys. A tall, imposing castle was looming above the village, stark against the surrounding structures.

But Ethan needed more time for the village. His attention was still on the body.

"How did he die?" Tonks asked again, her voice quieter this time.

Ethan's frown deepened as he ran several detection spells over the man's frozen body. Finally, after a moment, he pieced it together, though the explanation left him unsettled.

"I think he ran for too long in the cold," Ethan began, his voice serious.

"The cold air froze his lungs. Over time, they became congested. Eventually, the pressure built up until his lungs burst, and he choked to death on his blood."

Tonks stared at him in disbelief. "How is that even possible? No one can run so far in this weather without collapsing!"

Ethan's expression darkened. "He was running from something. When people are desperate, they can do unimaginable things to survive."

Tonks's eyes widened. "Something was chasing him?"

Ethan nodded. "It must have been. People don't push themselves to the brink like this unless they're terrified for their lives."

"But we didn't see any signs of other creatures while we followed his footprints," Tonks protested.

"If something was chasing him, wouldn't it have attacked when he fell?"

Ethan stood up, still deep in thought.

"That's what I need to investigate further," he muttered.

Glancing back the way they had come, he added, "I want to retrace our steps."

Tonks hesitated, her unease growing.

"Maybe we should go to the village first? Whatever's going on here, it's not right."

Ethan shook his head. "I'll only be a moment. There might be something we missed."

Tonks sighed but followed him as they backtracked along the path. For a while, they found nothing: no new clues, no sign of a chase, just the same old snow-covered ground.

Just as they were about to give up, something caught Ethan's eye—a patch of disturbed wood twisted and broken. His senses tingling, he led Tonks toward it, hoping it would reveal what had happened.