"Jormungandr, I brought someone to see you."
The door was pulled open from within. A huge wolf stood in the doorway.
No, not a wolf. A man—a man with wolfish features. His body was human, dressed in a neat dark brown robe buttoned tightly to the collar. But his head was that of a wolf, gray-black fur running from his forehead down to his neck. His pointed ears stood on either side of his head, twitching slightly like two radar dishes picking up sound.
His eyes were golden, his pupils vertical, like a cat's, a snake's, like every creature that hunted in the dark. His mouth hung slightly open, exposing a row of sharp, yellowed canine teeth.
Jormungandr. A werewolf. Director of the Beast Office under the Department of Magical Creature Management and Control.
Fudge laughed even louder and reached out to pat Jormungandr on the shoulder. "Jormungandr is the pride of our Department of Magical Creatures. Don't let his appearance fool you. Unlike those mongrels that only drool and bite people, he's a wizard. He's passed the Ministry's Werewolf Trainer Certification for three consecutive years. He's the only werewolf wizard in the United Kingdom's Wizarding World with an official post." He turned to Harry, his eyes gleaming with pride.
Jormungandr did not look at Fudge. His amber vertical pupils settled on Harry's face for several seconds. Then he extended a hand—it was like a human hand, with five distinct fingers, but its nails were black, thick, and curved like claws. He shook Harry's hand gently, yet the rough skin covered in dense short fur made the hairs on Harry's back stand up.
"Harry Potter." Jormungandr spoke, his voice emerging from that wolf's mouth, low and hoarse, carrying the awkwardness of something long unused. But every word was clear. "I've