"You think that it makes it okay?" Minerva asked in disbelief. "It doesn't matter, Atlas what form you are in you don't kill unless you have no choice to defend yourself," she said, throwing up her hands.
"My gods, do you realize that my best mate is a fucking Auror? My father is the bloody Headmaster of Hogwarts, and killed Voldemort's fucking pet at the great Battle? Atlas, this is serious shite!"
Minerva huffed, shaking her head. "I mean, how can you know you've killed as a wolf unless..." A thought crept in her head. "Oh gods, you've done it while on the wolfsbane. It's the only way you'd remember," she whispered, then covered her hand with her mouth. She felt sick, and she cradled an arm around her middle.
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes bright with tears. "Gods, Atlas please tell me you aren't...you weren't involved in what happened to that family? To that little g-girl," she begged, her breath hitching in on a sob. "You wouldn't do that, please tell me you wouldn't."
Minerva shook her head. "I can't believe all of this," she murmured, staring off. She had wanted to help him and now he admitted to her that he had killed - maybe even liked it, though he hadn't said as much.