(Y/n has been the Head of the Werewolf Office at the Ministry of Magic for years, working desperately to build a safe place for people with lycanthropy to seek help with their condition. However, it's the summer of 1997 and Dolores Umbridge has since been redeclared Senior Undersecretary. When Voldemort's puppet Pius Thicknesse becomes Minister, all of y/n's hard work comes crashing down.)
"I will not permit you to use my resources to hunt down every nonconforming werewolf for slaughter!"
"I'm not asking you to allow it, dear." I looked into her smug, toadish face, pink with pleasure and smiling saccharinely.
"I just got the trust of these people. They have risked everything by coming to me. They knew that this would happen, and I had just proven them wrong." I shook my head, looking around the little round office at the mewling kitten plates on the walls.
"We thank you for helping these monsters to register themselves. But really, calling them people is a bit of a stretch, is it not? These half-breeds - all half-breeds - must be taught a very valuable lesson: every action has its punishment. They have lived outside of our laws for too long!" Umbridge spoke now as though she were addressing a multitude, not one tired thirty-six year old woman trying desperately to defend her husband and his kind. "You will help us to bring them into line, or else I will have no choice but to declare you an enemy of the Ministry, and your position here will be terminated."
"Don't bother." My hand hovered over my wand pocket, but I dared not draw it there. "Don't bother firing me, I quit."
I did not walk out of that office, I did not march. I ran. Because my life and the lives of hundreds depended on it. According to the statistics that I was given, there were likely over a hundred werewolves in England and Wales alone. I couldn't let them down, I couldn't let Remus down. I had to get him to safety, but first I had a stop to make.
KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS
I read the sign with care, as I always did. The dedication that went into propagating a dirigible plum of that size and quality was magnificent - and very like Pandora. We had been close in school, often in the same sections of the library, or sneaking potions ingredients from the greenhouses at the same time. We traded notes when we came across something the other might use - I searched for a cure for lycanthropy, she for practical applications of the latest discoveries. I was devastated the day her experiments went wrong, and had been particularly careful in my own pursuits ever since.
Xenophilius looked much as he always had, long white hair and patchwork on every available surface of his body as well as his house. I recalled how he used to abhor the school uniforms, sneaking in wacky jewelry or odd-patterned socks which he was often asked to remove by the teachers because they had a tendency to be obnoxious - and occasionally noisy. He could always sense my discomfort, but I assume this time it was glaringly obvious.
"What's wrong? Is it Remus?" I didn't answer, it was too close to the truth.
"How vital is your next front page?" He looked shocked, I knew he thought all of his issues were vital - and he knew that I knew, so I think he understood the gravity of my asking.
"Come in." He hurried me upstairs. "Tea?"
"No time. Xeno, I'm in trouble, and with me every werewolf in the country. Umbridge has taken over control of the Werewolf Office, no one who goes in for help is safe from You-Know-Who. I need you to put out a warning to werewolves everywhere. Please, I'm begging you, help me to save them before it's too late."
"Of course. If it's as you say, then of course I'll help you."
"You'll be putting yourself even further at risk, I'm afraid."
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You Make Me Live (Remus Lupin x Reader One-Shots)
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