Breaking the Curse!

Snape frowned. "Will, you shouldn't try to negotiate with me. I'm your professor."

"Then Professor, please stop using the Dreamless Sleep Charm, and I won't discuss this condition with you," Will said with a smile.

Snape's face twitched. "Tell me, what are your conditions?"

"If things get worse, you must get out of this mess," Will said quickly, seeing Snape's lips tremble and knowing he was about to refuse. "Don't rush to refuse. Professor Dumbledore is already working with Professor Grindelwald. Even if things really get worse, do you think there's any problem they can't solve?"

Upon hearing this, Snape couldn't find a reason to refuse—if these two were teaming up, what use would he be?

He looked at Will with a complicated expression. "I promise you, Will."

Will smiled – Snape can be quite stubborn sometimes, but thankfully he's not insanely stubborn, so it's still possible to talk to him.

However, Will actually didn't want Snape to appear when he shouldn't.

If Voldemort knew that Snape and he were both spies, he would definitely attack them both like madmen. He could manage on his own, but Snape... he really couldn't fight Voldemort.

After the two reached an agreement, the atmosphere became much more pleasant, Will left the Office after dinner.

Upon returning to the Underground High Tower, he made a surprising discovery.

The test subject's severed arm, its soul severed, began to heal and was finally regained control; it seemed a new soul was being reborn within that arm...

Things were going well, Will's mood gradually improved—everything was progressing smoothly.

One evening a few days later.

Scrimgeour was having dinner in the Minister's Office.

The minister's dinner was extremely simple: a chicken sandwich, a plate of Fish and Chips, and a cup of Coffee —that's it, because Scrimgeour had to work overtime, so his dinner also included Coffee.

Will appeared, Scrimgeour was already used to. He took a sip of Coffee, ate his chicken sandwich, looked at Will, and smiled, "Mr. Behrens, would you like one too?"

"Never mind," Will waved his hand, "I'm here today to treat you."

"Have you come up with a solution?"

"That's called figuring out a solution," Will corrected. "We'll go over after we finish eating."

Scrimgeour downed his Coffee in one gulp, then stood up abruptly. "Let's go now, Mr. Behrens."

"Don't rush." Will pressed his hand, and Scrimgeour was pushed back into his seat by an invisible force— Scrimgeour felt as if his clothes had suddenly come to life, which was rather frightening.

"Is there anything else?" Scrimgeour asked, puzzled.

How often does Professor Dumbledore treat you?

"Previously, it was once a month or two," Scrimgeour said, "But this year the intervals between treatments will be much longer. Also, he came to the Magical University's open conference a while ago, and after seeing my condition, he said he would be quite busy recently, and it might be two or three months before I can have a treatment."

Will nodded – that's better. If Dumbledore treated Scrimgeour too frequently, it would be easy for Dumbledore to discover the problem.

He instructed, "Contact the Magical Congress of America in the coming days."

"Contacting the America?"

"Yes, you must go to America," Will nodded. "There's a reclusive old Wizard at the Magical Congress of the United States of America who can cure your ailment."

The Magical University is currently under construction, and the Wizarding World of both countries are in a honeymoon period. They went to great lengths to help us find this old Wizard; you can go to the America for treatment.

Scrimgeour understood Will's meaning—it was about concealing the situation, which was quite in line with Mr. Behrens's style.

"Okay, I'll contact them soon, Mr. Behrens. When shall we begin treatment?"

Judging from his appearance, he was already impatient, which was understandable. Since the Curse was placed on his arm, he hadn't had a single good day. The pain in his arm forced him to rely on Potions to fall asleep.

Now that there's a treatment for him, it's like seeing a glimmer of hope; how could I not be excited?

However, Scrimgeour soon regretted his decision.

In the underground Laboratory of the High Tower, Scrimgeour lay on the cold operating table, feeling that Will was looking at him as if he were a dead man.

"Mr. Behrens... are you sure this is for my treatment?" Even the notoriously tough Scrimgeour shuddered at this moment.

Will looked at Scrimgeour's arm. "Of course, otherwise why would I use you as a guinea pig?"

Scrimgeour felt himself breaking out in an even deeper cold sweat.

Will saw through Scrimgeour's thoughts. "Don't be so nervous, Scrimgeour. Actually, if I didn't want you to become disabled, this Curse would be easy to break. Just cut off your arm, and it would all be over. I have a way to completely sever the connection between your body and your Magic structure."

Scrimgeour wiped away his cold sweat. He decided it was best to trust Mr. Behrens; after all, killing him would be easy for him.

"Then, I will now heal you." Will pointed his Wand at his arm.

The next moment, Scrimgeour felt a sharp pain, and then everything went black.

On one hand, the pain of severing one's soul was too intense; on the other hand, it was because Will didn't want Scrimgeour to know what he was about to do—he didn't think Scrimgeour wanted to become Werewolf.

Next comes the complete process of severing the arm, transforming into Werewolf, and nurturing the soul of the new arm.

The surgery was performed quickly, as Will was already quite experienced in it; however, after Scrimgeour was awakened, the man's condition was not good.

As soon as Scrimgeour woke up, he covered his head and groaned.

Will knew this was normal— Werewolf had undergone Werewolf Reversal surgery would experience this, let alone Scrimgeour, who had an extra arm and soul severed.