Wish Granter.

The day has come to complete the first stage of the purification of the Source of Princes. A trial batch of werewolves, "sucked up" necroenergy from the Source of Princes, will enter service. I did everything I could; I did not spare the Muggles and Snape's homunculi, but out of seventy-two werewolf wizards, only twenty-five survived the experiment. I hope they have become strong enough.

Having chosen one of them and without bringing her to consciousness, I went with her to the training ground near one of the bases. Having assumed the appearance of Elena, I set off. The solution is original: using Snape's homunculi to connect werewolves to the Source of Princes so that they can take necroenergy from there. Then, I would disconnect them from it. I managed to qualitatively hide the traces of connections and disconnections in their energy system, disguising it as a Dark Magic Ritual with a sacrifice. Now, it is time to test the new fighters.

I brought one of the trial batch to consciousness on a closed site. While the one who had come to was blinking her eyes, I used Legilimency on her and learned her name.

"Welcome back, Elizabeth. We need to check something," I said, handing her her wand. "The target is there," I pointed at the transfigured mannequin. "Use the Dark Ray spell."

Tom did not like this spell; it was like a blow with a crowbar—too obvious. A strong opponent could deflect or reflect it, and a weak one was easier to kill by other means. Avada Kedavra was much more economical. In addition, this spell takes some time to perform—hardly less than three seconds—during which any idiot could throw Petrificus Totalus or Cruciatus at you and then do whatever he wanted with your body.

The last point, theoretically, can be solved by teamwork—you are covered while you are preparing to give a powerful attack. However, Tom almost always worked alone and did not trust his protection to anyone. As far as I understood, this spell is quite sensitive to the user's necroenergy level.

The werewolf woman began to slowly wave her wand, pronouncing words that could be translated as "punishing darkness." Now I was in her mind and saw how she used this spell before during her classes with Dolokhov. She conjured a black pinball, from which a black beam flew at the target, producing the effect of a shovel hitting the target. Dolokhov, when he saw this after a week of training, was very thoughtfully silent. He tried to say something encouraging, but he couldn't. Eventually, he went to smoke, taking cigarettes from one of the werewolves. A black figure in a robe, smoking...

And the last thing is doubly strange—a pureblood wizard took something from the werewolves, and these were Muggle cigarettes, although as far as I knew, Dolokhov did not smoke. But now everything was different. No, the same uncertain words and imperfect waving of the wand. But then the differences began. Usually, the sphere is formed from several streams of darkness coming out of the magic wand or body.

For me, it looked like flowing and twisting streams, just like ordinary water. Elizabeth produced an intermediate result: crooked black spirals drawing into the ball. A black sphere began to form in front of her wand, rapidly increasing in size. In less than a second, the ball had reached the size of a Quaffle. I wondered—mine is up to one and a half meters in diameter; what will hers be?

After four and a half seconds, her sphere reached a diameter of seventy centimeters, and then a puncture seemed to form in the ball. The sphere began to lose volume, like a punctured balloon, and a coal-black beam, focused to the thickness of a finger, quickly rushed towards the target. There was a whistle, like from a projectile. The beam reached the target at the speed of a bullet, and I heard the sound of an explosion. In place of the target was a crater with a diameter of about twenty meters.

Excellent, simply excellent! In less than two months, I had managed to turn someone who had picked up a wand for the first time into an attacker operating at the same level as an Auror who had been trained for seven years at Hogwarts and five at the Auror Academy. Of course, not everything is so rosy; she has no combat experience. If she stares at the result of her spell for several seconds, even a weaker opponent could kill her. Moreover, the one and a half dozen spells she knows are not enough for a full-fledged fight. Not to mention the fact that a mage who cannot apparate is a nonsense.

Never mind; we'll throw them into mixed squads with normal werewolf fighters or let non-mage werewolves cover them. We can put on a couple of normal protective amulets... Someone will survive the first few fights, and then they will mature.

And the losses in werewolves are not critical; it's the Aurors who have nothing to restore their losses with. The only thing they don't have enough of is werewolves with Higher Dark Magic!

"Delightful," I said. "Do you feel magical exhaustion? Fatigue? Pain? Voices in your head?" In theory, it shouldn't. I cut them off before they reached the level of necroenergy that causes deformation of consciousness. They will be sane. And then... few of them will survive; they will be knocked out first—dragons must be crushed while they are eggs. Then, the changes in the psyche can be attributed to the horrors of war.

"No, nothing unusual," she answered me, although I was in her thoughts and already knew the answer. "And I put as usual into the attack, not much. I don't understand anything..."

"Cast the Avada Kedavra spell at the wall," I ordered.

"I do not possess the Unforgivables," she replied.

"And you check," I insisted, standing behind her.

"Avada Kedavra!" she said.

Avada can be cast using a dozen different wand swings, but she clearly gave the wrong one. However, a familiar green whistling beam burst from her wand.

"Come with me; we need to tell the others," I said. Soon, I was at one of the bases. Dolokhov came to report to me in the garb of the Devourer, while Elizabeth was getting acquainted with the other werewolves outside.

"Hello, Antonin. How are things with the training of the selected werewolf mages?"

"I found them instructors from among the mercenaries, and on the personal order of the Dark Lord, I am personally training them. In accordance with your... program," he reported to me.

"What is your opinion?"

From the point of view of the average person, a werewolf is stronger than a mage. Therefore, a crowd of werewolves trained in witchcraft poses a threat to mages. However, the situation with training is not promising. An increase in strength, agility, and altered senses are not critical for a strong mage.

Moreover, during combat, not only are attacks aimed at physical destruction used, but also false light, sound signals, and even smells. This forces werewolves to use more complex and expensive charms to protect their senses. Unfortunately, they do not have this capability. In human form, the Pepper Dust Charm mows them down no worse than silver shrapnel.

"They can be protected from pepper charms with simple amulets. How are the results in mastering the spells you mentioned?" I asked more specifically.

"In accordance with your program…" Dolokhov hesitated slightly. "I began teaching werewolves the spells you indicated. I don't understand why training should begin with Higher Dark Magic. As a result, in a month, they learned a lot of wand movements and words, although they can't do anything. What they can do can be stopped with a Muggle bulletproof vest.

The funniest thing was when they tried to learn Antipatronus—no haze; those who had advanced the furthest were able to drive themselves into depression.

"Dark Ray…" Dolokhov sighed, probably vividly imagining how he would get in trouble with the Lord. "The Ray" came out. Only now there is a joke about visible but not physically felt attacks—they can do it, but it does not cause damage. It doesn't even pierce a sheet of paper; it just slightly crumples.

And the same thing happened with a dozen other spells on the list. Instead of Cruciatus, they have purple sparks that throw the target up. The defense is a little better. Some can conjure a grayish-black haze around the body, but it can be pierced with a Quidditch bat. This is a complete failure.

But at least I can imagine what you wanted to achieve. But why did I have to teach them the Acceleration spell, which is Dark magic? And a healing Dark magic spell with a triple overexpenditure of magical energy compared to the usual one? It is standard in everything; the only thing is—it is Dark! The usual Acceleration spell works no worse and is much simpler.

Perhaps, even in such conditions, we could have achieved something. But as soon as they started to get something, forgive Merlin, you immediately took almost all of them and ordered them to teach the next batch. No one has seen the first batch since. Rumor has it that they are dead. The werewolves are unhappy that you are using "their own" for sacrifices. That's about what you should have expected.

"I didn't kill them; I strengthened them. Although there were some losses in the process. It's time to check the difference."

We went to the training ground. In addition to Dolokhov, there were three dozen werewolves and two hired magician instructors.

"You," I pointed my wand at one of the instructors, "against her," I said, pointing my wand at Elizabeth, who had been marinating at the Well of Princes for over a month, pumping up with necroenergy. "A training fight. And I advise you not to accept her attacks with a 'hard block,'" I told the instructor.

If I understand something, then now it will be about the same as when Snape first fought the updated Lily. Only Lily managed to be strengthened as a magician, while these were pumped up with necroenergy, which will enhance their Dark Magic. If the instructor has brains, he will pick up his jaw from the floor and survive.

The instructor stood in front of the werewolf about twenty meters away. The area's defense was activated so that there would be no accidental victims.

The signal was given to begin the fight. The instructor made a gesture that meant he allowed his opponent to attack first.

"Expelliarmus!" said the werewolf. Second year at Hogwarts. Pathetic. Moreover, I forgot to warn the werewolf that I had only strengthened Dark Magic… It was awkward… The Expelliarmus beam drowned in the instructor's passive defense. True, he conjured a Mirror Shield to reflect the Expelliarmus beam back at the caster, but it wasn't necessary.

"Reducto! Petrify!" said the woman—the werewolf. The same. Her attacks didn't even get past the passive defense.

The instructor made a gesture with his wand and, as slowly as possible, said the Air Blade spell out loud. The werewolf dashed to the side at her maximum speed, shouting loudly, "Protego!" She had a shield, but it didn't help her. The spell was faster than her and homing. It easily caught up with Elizabeth, cutting through her Protego like a knife through butter. If the goal had been to kill, she would have been dead, but she got off with a wide, shallow cut across half her body.

However, thanks to the fact that she was a werewolf, she did not fall from pain shock, and the bleeding stopped almost instantly.

"I don't see any difference," the instructor said. Just like a month and a half ago.

Dolokhov wanted to give the signal to stop the fight, but I stopped him.

"Use Dark Magic," I ordered the wounded Elizabeth. The instructor smiled. I'm ready to swear that Dolokhov under the mask did too.

"Crucio!" she said, pointing her wand at the instructor. Too slowly. And out loud. While she was saying this, the instructor used the acceleration charm to move out of the line of attack.

The Cruciatus flew, met no resistance, and passed the protective dome of the barrier, hitting one of the spectators.

He howled wildly and instantly lost consciousness.

"She hadn't been able to do the Cruciatus before. But even if she now has the Unforgivables, he still won't be able to hit me," the instructor told Dolokhov.

A new Cruciatus from Elizabeth served as his answer. Only this time, it was non-verbal. The instructor dodged the attack again, but this time the beam passed quite close to his body.

"A werewolf needs something Dark and homing to win." And she understood this, starting to make painfully familiar gestures with her wand.

"Stop! No!" I ordered. "No Hellfire! Otherwise, you'll die with it!"

Of course, she would be able to light the Hellfire. But she wouldn't be able to put it out. And she wouldn't be able to apparate. No, we'd save those outside the protective dome, but not the two of them. Fortunately, she listened to me, interrupting the spell in the middle.

Having fallen into a second of stupor, and taking advantage of the instructor's complete inaction, Elizabeth cast "Dark Healing" on herself. It wouldn't have healed Dark Magic, but the cut from the Air Blade healed instantly. It was just done crookedly—the scar would remain.

The instructor deliberately, and slowly, cast a new homing Air Blade. Elizabeth used the Dark Magic Acceleration Spell. This time, the Air Blade couldn't catch up with the werewolf, who, in a human body, moved in circles at the speed of a racing car. Only, it was the wrong kind of car—completely oblivious to the inertia of movement and traction with the ground.

The Air Blade chased Elizabeth for about five seconds, then dissipated, having exhausted the energy invested.

Apparently deciding that this unknown thing had to be stopped, the instructor began to cast the Black Lightning spell to deal with the enemy. This spell had a huge advantage over most spells: it spread as fast as regular lightning. Elizabeth would not be able to escape.

Since the instructor used this spell verbally, Elizabeth immediately began to cast one of the three Dark Magic defensive spells, the wand movements and words for which Dolohov had once shown her. She was enveloped in a blackish haze of the Shroud of Darkness—a pretty good universal defensive spell.

She made it: as soon as she finished her spell, Black Lightning, as thick as a human arm, hit her, connecting her defense and the instructor's wand. And we apparently scared the instructor—this attack would have been lethal.

Scared, Elizabeth responded in kind. Only in her performance, Black Lightning was as thick as a human leg, like that of the mage of my Inner Circle. The lightning instantly caught up with her opponent, breaking through his passive shields and the protection he had conjured in front of him. The blow was so strong that it simply dissolved the upper half of the instructor's body, leaving only two legs below the knee.

Elizabeth looked at her wand with an expression of complete amazement. By the way, I should show it and the others to Ollivander. Maybe they need new wands now…

"A stupid joke," Dolohov informed me. "Why would someone from the Inner Circle disguise themselves as a werewolf? And how did you do it if werewolves are immune to Polyjuice? Yes, that's exactly what people are like. Everyone, even me: if our opinion doesn't coincide with the facts, we must ignore the facts."

"It's one of those werewolves," I said.

"Don't remove the court's protection, Elizabeth, conjure an Antipatronus!" That way I'll show that she has an Antipatronus, which no one else in the Inner Circle has.

Elizabeth began waving her wand, making a record number of mistakes in her wand movements and stuttering as she spoke. The more experience and strength a wizard has, and the more often they use a certain spell, the easier it becomes. Up to a certain limit, of course, including wandless magic. I didn't think she'd succeed with so many blunders, but she did.

Black smoke began to pour out of the wand, which immediately gathered into the shape of a large black bear. It looked around, then, walking on air, reached the protection of the training ground and swung its paw.

"No need!" she said. The bear changed its mind and approached Elizabeth. She touched it with her hand and began to stroke it.

"Corporeal Antipatronus!" She was lucky that Antipatronus is one of the few homing spells in Dark Magic that is safe for the caster.

"The Lord accepted a new wizard into the Inner Circle?" Antonin asked me. "Why am I not in the know?"

"No. She's a werewolf who's been holding a wand for less than two months. Check her out. I'll get the others now."

Having reached the apparation platform, I disappeared, only to return a few minutes later with twenty-four unconscious werewolves who had finished marinating in the Well of Princes. I wonder how much longer the Well of Princes will last... And there is also the Well of Slytherin... And it is quite possible that the Gaunts will come in handy...

Dolokhov immediately called for backup and dragged me into some office for a talk.

"How did you achieve this?" he asked me. "Is the enhancement permanent?"

"Yes, the enhancement is permanent. How I achieved this is the Lord's secret."

"Does the Lord know?" he asked.

"Of course!" I answered. "This is his method. I am just an executor."

"Is it possible to enhance mages as well?" they asked me.

"I don't know. I think so. But most likely, the survival rate will be even lower than one-third."

"I will think about where to place our new fighters. They need to find amulets and werewolf guards, at least until they get used to their new power."

"Your conclusion?" I asked.

"They got some extra bad power. But that's not always a plus, especially when attacking an area where there might be your own. It's best to kill them with one blow from an ambush, relying primarily on camouflage. If it comes to a fight, don't start exchanging blows under any circumstances, especially if there are more of them."

"Are they useless?" I asked.

"Of course not. But we need to develop a new tactic for them."

"What kind?" I asked.

"I can't come up with one in five minutes… I need to consult with Jugson. The best thing is to immediately launch Antipatronuses. There will be both an attack and detection. Then hit them with Dark Magic over an area while they are covered by regular werewolf fighters. And don't forget about the Unforgivables. Ideally, conjure Hellfire from afar before you are detected and retreat," they told me.

"Quite sensible, but there are a number of nuances."

"Most of them can't apparate," I said. Dolokhov just grinned.

"It's true. They have Hellfire and the Corporal Antipatronus, but they can't apparate. We only managed to strengthen Dark Magic." Dolokhov cursed in Russian. "Let them learn. In the meantime, we'll give them portals or those who can apparate to help. We need to call the rest of the Death Eaters," he told me.

"Why?"

"There are two and a half dozen Corporal Antipatronuses there. You need to tell them where the other fifty of their comrades have gone. I'll cover you," they told me.

Okay. It's time to show off my oratorical talent. After all, I took volunteers and warned them that it was mortally dangerous… We wake them up one by one and start telling them that their sacrifice will not be forgotten.

Five hours later, everything was over. Conducting conversations with them separately was a good idea. I only had to kill one; five received the Imperius. I don't think anyone will notice that they are under Imperius—I am a master, after all. They don't even know that they are under Imperius. The rest were convinced to cooperate. The rest agreed to work voluntarily, receiving a pay raise and a generous dose of propaganda about "this is how it should be for the werewolf people."

"So only twenty-five out of seventy-two survived? And you're going to keep doing this?" Elizabeth asked me. I left her for later, as she was keeping the others busy with stories about her duel.

"Yes. An experimental ritual. Werewolves need magical support, and this is the only way to get it. You knew what you were getting into, and this way you can protect yourself and your people," I said.

"Did you kill them to strengthen us?" she asked me, while she was kneading her own fingers.

"No. I killed Muggles to strengthen you all. Unfortunately, it's impossible to predict in advance who will survive and strengthen, and who will die. I'm sorry."

"It's not…"

"Immoral? Do you want me to show you memories where werewolves writhe from wounds inflicted by silver, and I am powerless to save them?" I immediately went with my trump card. "One good magical shield, and there would have been fewer victims; three shields, and there would have been no victims at all."

Now the future of werewolves depends on people like you. Either you cry and get killed, or you surrender and live in shit for a few more centuries, or you help the Dark Lord win and become full citizens of magical England."

"I understand," she mumbled, hiding her gaze. But still, with passive legilimency, I felt something was left unsaid.

"Do you want to ask me something?" I suggested.

"No. That is, yes. That is, no..." she began.

"Speak, but quickly," I ordered.

"I have a werewolf man with whom we are close. And we were planning to get married," she began.

"What does this have to do with me?" I clarified.

"It is not a fact that we will both survive the war... And I would like to have a child from him."

Not the best idea, in my opinion—a toddler will reduce your chances of survival. Although what if he gives them a motive to fight? And again, I do not understand what this has to do with me.

"I wonder, can I still have children?" she asked. To be honest, I don't care. But if Bella can, then you should be able to too. The easiest way is to let things slide. However, I can at least collect statistics on the children of mothers with a lot of necroenergy, and that could come in handy… Considering my future daughter…

"You can. But I recommend a magical marriage before conception," I said.

"Why? Isn't that superstition?" they asked me.

"It's my job to advise."

"I can't find anyone who can conduct the ceremony. And I don't know how myself."

"But it's true. Oh well, I've read enough books about marriage. I saw the wedding of Carrow and Sirius; I saw my own. I can handle it."

"I'll conduct the ceremony. If there are any more interested, send them to me," I said.

The degree of her amazement exceeded Dolokhov's surprise. Then they rushed to thank me. The main thing is that none of our own people find out about this, although Elena already has such a reputation that it won't get any worse…

We nod and agree… Now we'll quickly find her man, and I'll conduct the ceremony. Then I'll take on another form and go to Edward; he promised to show me new books and memories.

And I'll have to talk to Bellatrix; she seriously wants to write a congratulatory letter to Rodolphus with the content: "Congratulations! Now you have a child and a wife."