The moon was full. Most of the bitten after the war had gladly taken to the Wolfsbane Potion, embracing the only known method of self control. Fenrir Greyback and his kind of werewolves had always been against the act of suppressing their lunar desires. Now it wasn't just the good-guys using the potion.
The watch wizard at the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic was weighing the wand of one Penelope Clearwater. She stood patiently, taking her time as she was in no rush to finish her business. Penelope had to file for a new Kneazle permit (because they all expired this month for anyone with a surname starting with C,D, or E, regardless of how few months ago they were applied for). After that she had nothing until her big dinner date with Charlie at 8p.
The elevator from the street level appeared beneath the ground. The wizard weighing Penelope's wand stopped and stared, confused as to what he was seeing. It looked like three dogs were standing on their hind legs, their paws against the glass. As the door dinged and opened, Penny followed his gaze and realized that yes, there were dogs-- wolves to be exact-- and there was also a bloody body slumped at their feet.
"Wand," she said, whipping her head around. The wolves were now bounding across the atrium, past the fountain. "What?" the wizard said blinking.
"WAND!" Penny shouted again, reaching over the counter and stretching to wrap her fingers around her wand. She spun around, ready to blast a curse but it was too late. The head of the pack had its jaws around her throat and tore the flesh. A second wolf was on the watch wizard before he could reach the alarm.
They left the pair breathless on the floor and continued on, only stopping to eviscerate a wizard sneaking out of work thirty minutes early before bounding towards the elevator, completely in control and entirely dangerous.