The dungeons smelled of werewolf so thick that Garm Tyr's nose burned as he clutched his wand, stepping through the doorway and onto the very stairs down which Sabrina had tumbled just two months before. He shuddered as images flooded him, pushing them aside in his mind as harshly as he could. Can't think of that right now, he thought as the echo of Frek's cry for Sabrina to "wait, come back" seared his mind. His stomach turned. If it was for the scent of the dungeons or the memories inside him, there was no telling. 

He could've lived a thousand years without wanting to return to these steps again.

Minerva McGonagall stood at the top of the stairway, peering through a narrow crack left in the doorway, watching for anyone to come their way, her wand held high and glowing with the lumos charm as Elphinstone Urquart led the way down into the dungeons. "Are you alright?" he asked Garm, seeing the way Garm's face looked. He paused. "You don't have to come down if you don't want to. You can stay with Minnie up top there, just give me Mr. Scamander's briefcase." He held out his hand.

Garm shook his head, and continued down the stairs.

Elphinstone Urquart watched him pass, determination on his face now, and he thought that perhaps Garm Tyr would have made an excellent member of Gryffindor house once upon a time - though he'd been a very good fit in Slytherin as well.

Once to the bottom, Garm put the briefcase down and flipped open the latches. The moment he did, Newt Scamander's head popped over the brim and he looked about. He caught the errant niffler just before he climbed out - probably having smelled the pure silver of the werewolves' chains. "S-stay," he commanded, catching her by her feet and stuffing her back down into the case, "You d-don't want to come out h-here; you - you'd make a tasty little sn-snack." There was a pause. "Don't g-go su-sulking about, now. It's for - for your own g-good."

After Newt had come out, he was followed by Ned Veigler, Albus Dumbledore, Queenie Kowalski, and Tina Scamander. 

Queenie looked about as Tina climbed out behind her, her eyes wide with worry. "Oh..." she murmured. The things she was seeing in the minds around her were most disturbing and she shuddered. "This is most awful."

Newt was peering through the bars of one of the cells at a young man, who was asleep on the edge of a hard, rough cot, his arms around himself, laying beneath a threadbare blanket. He turned to look at the others. "De - deplorable..." he murmured, and his eyes were sad, "If I'd k-known then, when I signed the Restriction Act..."

"You had no way of knowing," Dumbledore said gently, "Every man I knew was for the Act - many of the werewolves included. It was supposed to protect the afflicted and non-afflicted alike, the way that it was written. This isn't what it was meant to be - this is a corrupted version."

"Corrupted indeed." Ned looked sick. "It's not even time yet - it's a week away yet..."

"They wanted to ensure the full dosage was administered to each subject without any further mistakes," murmured Garm Tyr. He had yet to tear his eyes from the bottom stair, where Minerva McGonagall's shadow cast a form on the floor that reminded him of his own silhouette, as though his shape had been burned into the place for all of time, like the after effects of a nuclear explosion. His voice was flat. "They imprison them the full week before."

Queenie laid her palm on his shoulder comfortingly. She could see exactly the memories that he was drowning beneath and they weighed heavily on her heart. Surely they weighed doubly heavy on Mr. Tyr's, she thought.

There was a rattling down the corridor a way and some arms poked out from between the bars. "Hullo?" came a voice - a girl's.

Tina walked over quickly. Pressed to the bars was the face of a teenage girl. Her pale face was ashy from the grime of the cell she was sharing with three other teenagers. "Hi there, sweetie," Tina answered her, meeting her eyes. She had a scar across her jaw that made her lips sag slightly to the left. She looked at Newt with tearful eyes. "We've got to get them out of here," she said firmly.

Dumbledore nodded, "Precisely what we are here for. Mr. Scamander, you've prepared the quarters at Fallengunder, I'm assuming?"

"Y-yes sir," Newt nodded.

"Jacob and I made all the beds, just this morning!" Queenie added, smiling.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Then I propose we get underway with our rescue so that we can get out before we are discovered by Mr. Crouch -- shall we?"

The others nodded and they all drew their wands and began moving from cell to cell, unlocking the doors, and moving inside to undo the chains... Soon the dungeons were crowded with men and women, witches and wizards - some magical, some squibs, some muggles whose registration had been purely based on their status as werewolf (these were, of course, the most frightened of all). Queeie and Tina were showing them in clusters down through the mouth of the briefcase.

 TIna held the hand of the little girl she'd seen in the cell, guiding her along through to the rooms where they'd set up comfortable chairs and tables and laid out proper food for the werewolves to eat. "Watch your step, there... Horklumps." She pointed to the funny mushrooms that covered a patch of grass, and as the girl looked down to mind where her shoes touched, one of the little mushrooms lifted up and a good deal of slimey legs... or arms... or something... came visible beneath it as the creature watched her pass by, checking that she didn't step on any of it's fellows.

All the creatures were interested and looking as Queenie and Tina welcomed nearly thirty werewolves into the case. The erumpent was grunting and panting loudly, and Dougal shimmered semi-transparent atop his little hut. The Niffler waddled alongside the line of them, snuffling and looking to see if there were any particularly interesting shiny objects on them. A firecrab exploded across the ground in excitement, it's jewelled shell hitting a row of mooncalves and knocking them all over, like bowling pins, which made the little girl Tina was guiding along giggle as all the moon calves made funny wheezing noises and struggled to get up with their long necks wobbling.

Upstairs, they'd cleared nearly all the cells... Ned came to one in the very back, which had four locks upon the door instead of two. Inside, sitting and hugging his knees because he was very, very large, was a half-giant man. Ned Veigler stood outside this cell, his eyes wide as he stared at the man, who stared back at him from behind bushy blonde hair. He hesitated - only because the size of the man, translated to a werewolf, was a very unnerving size indeed. But this wasn't a discriminating mission, it wasn't for him to decide if this man was somehow less deserving of being rescued than any other man was, and Ned's hands shook as he reached for the locks, the giant's eyes following his wand as he undid them.

When he'd finished, Ned Veigler opened the door of the cell.

"I didn't think you'd help me," said the giant.

Ned was undoing the chains that held the giant back - the others were finishing up saving the last of the werewolves, TIna and Queenie clearing the crowd of them quickly - when Minerva McGonagall's voice rang sharp, "They're coming."

Dumbledore turned quickly to face the stairs. "Stand back," he commanded her, and he waved his wand. The door slammed shut and locked. "I do hate to hurry us, but everyone into the briefcase piece. Pip, pip." He waved for Queenie and Tina to go inside, and started helping people over the brim himself one by one, a stream of them. Garm pointed his last prisoner their way from the cell he'd just opened - a teenage muggle boy ran to Dumbledore's side. Ned came down the corridor with the thundering feet of his giant directly behind him... Newt Scamander stared up at the giant with excited eyes - he had not visited with a giant in so long, his curiosity was peaking. Everyone went into the case - Elphinstone Urquart, Minerva McGonagall, Newt and TIna Scamander, Queenie Kowalski, all of the werewolves...

Dumbledore turned to face Garm Tyr, their eyes met.

The door at the top of the stairs was being rattled and there were voices shouting on the other side.

"You remember our plan," Dumbledore said to Garm.

Garm nodded, his dark eyes emotionless, too overcome by the weight of the memories.

Dumbledore said, "You understand of course, why it had to be you?"

"I'm the only one with a reason to be down here," Garm shrugged.

"You're the only one who needed to face being down here," Dumbledore replied. "This place would have haunted you a thousand years if you hadn't come."

Garm shook his head, "It will haunt me still, just the same."

"But you've done a good deed here," Dumbledore replied. 

"Releasing all the bleeding wolves - one of them of which is probably the very one who --" he stopped himself, choking up, his eyes diverting to the stairs.

Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. "One of them indeed was, but he was no more to blame than you. You understand the transformation, how it works, the loss of self."

Garm nodded. "Now."

"Better late than never, they always say," Dumbledore replied. "You're very strong, Mr. Tyr, a fact that I have known long about you." 

Garm couldn't quite look Dumbledore in the eye.

"Now, let us get on with the plan," Dumbledore said, and he tucked his beard into his belt, bit his wand in his teeth, and swung his feet over the edge of the briefcase, descending the ladder and pulling closed behind him the lid of the case.

Garm bent down and flipped the latches closed. He waved his wand and all the cell doors closed, and another couple waves and he'd filled the dungeons with artificial groans and cries... and he started for the stairs, stepping on the very spot and freezing for a moment to feel the chill of the memory shoot up his spine... and then he steeled himself, arranged his face just so, and climbed up. He waved his wand to end the locking charm Dumbledore had placed upon the door, and he pulled it opened to find three aurors and Barty Crouch on the other side of the door. One of the aurors had his wand raised, about to cast a blasting spell to break the door down...

Garm Tyr glared at them, "What are you doing?"

Barty Crouch pushed his way to the front, "Mr. Tyr! What are you doing?"

Garm grunted, "Locking up one of the filthy bits of scum, Mr. Crouch."

Barty looked confused, "But --"

"Do you have a problem now with me doing my job, Mr. Crouch?" he growled.

Barty looked to the aurors, one of whom shrugged. "There was a rumor that you'd quit," he said by way of explanation.

Barty's lack of memory - altered, of course, by Elphinstone - was unnerving. He'd been present when Sabrina had been killed, he'd heard the cry of Garm Tyr being transformed, yet he didn't remember it. For Garm's own good, to keep him from being registered and collected himself for testing... Altering the memory of the head of Magical Law Enforcement had been the only thing that Elphinstone could've done at the time to help the poor man.

"Quick tracking?" Garm raised a thick eyebrow. "Do you know... how hard... I worked at catching that... that filthy..." he pointed behind him, glowering at Crouch, "And this is the thanks I get? This? Doubt whether I was doing my job or not?"

Crouch replied, "But you work for Dumbledore now! At Hogwarts! Defense teacher!"

"And in my spare time I track down your bleedin' werewolves!" Garm snarled, and he shoved around Barty Crouch and quickly boarded the elevator. "I've got better things to do than have my credibility challenged," he said, and he slammed the grate shut. "I thought you might've been more excited to hear I'd finally caught bleedin' Greyback," he said  in a final tone, and the elevator shot upwards, even as Barty Crouch launched himself forward to try to stop it.

"You did very well," came a whispered voice from the briefcase and Garm looked down to see Dumbledore's eye peeking out - bright blue.

Garm looked up, keeping his gaze steadily straight ahead, as the grates opened to the chaos of the Atrium as Gideon and Fabian Prewett - spotting Garm leaving - quickly tamed the firecracker dragon.

"Good day, Mr. Tyr," Gideon said as Garm passed by. 

Garm replied with a nod, and hurried on to the floos that lined the entry hall of the Ministry, grabbing a fistful of the powder, he wondered if they'd gone down into the dungeons to find the empty cells yet...

"Minerva McGonagall's office at Hogwarts," he said lowly, and he stepped through the hearth.