Twisting around slowly, Harry Potter frowned as a trash can rolled across the street. The crash having startled the young eight year old, Harry now glanced around quickly, trying to find the cause of the trash can falling over.
After a rather long pause, at which time Harry merely stood on the sidewalk listening to his heartbeat, the boy continued his trek to the Dursley household.
Today had been Dudley's ninth birthday. Vernon, Petunia, Dudley and Harry had all piled in the backseat of Vernon's new car, and where heading towards the nearby water-park, when Vernon had stopped the car, got out, grabbed Harry, then threw the young boy out of the car (literally) and onto the ground.
Vernon had then glared at him and told him that they would be back at nightfall.
Harry had quietly stayed in the same spot that Vernon had thrown him throughout the entirety of the day. Adults of all shapes, sizes, and colors had walked passed the young child, yet not a single one had stopped to ask why Harry was there. Eventually, when the sun had fallen, and the moon had arisen, it had occurred to Harry that the Dursley's would not be coming back.
Now, that led to the situation that Harry was in now. Having absolutely no idea which direction to go, Harry had started walking towards where he had hoped Number Four was located.
Hearing a rather loud hiss, Harry's eyes snapped wide as he whirled around. Feeling something brush up against his leg, Harry let out a petrified whimper, before glancing down.
There, staring back up to him where a pair of bright yellow eyes.
"Oh my…" Harry sighed. "You terrified me!" Harry cried, before leaning down and picking up the gray tabby cat.
The cat's eyes widened, before it spat angrily, and scratched Harry on his face. Crying out, Harry dropped the cat, which sped away.
Clutching his cheek, which was bleeding profusely, Harry whimpered softly, even as he fell down to his butt.
He was in the middle of a town which he could not recognize, he was alone and hurt, and it was nearing midnight. The moon, which shone high overhead, lit up the streets and caused haphazard shadows to cover the sidewalk and roads.
Glancing up, Harry frowned as he saw the form of what looked to be a large dog. "Hey there doggy…." Harry said softly, watching as the dog shifted slightly. "Your pretty big for a dog…." Harry said, a small smile spreading across his face.
Suddenly, bright purple eyes appeared as the dog turned around. It was then that Harry took in the mangled form of something that was most defiantly not a dog.
Feeling his heart stop, Harry scrabbled backwards, trying to get to his feet even as he tried to get away. The beast was moving towards him, its head cocked to the side.
All very suddenly, the beast moved forward, faster than any dog or wolf. For the beast was a werewolf.
Harry screamed, turning and making it to his feet, he was running, then suddenly sharp pain lanced through his leg. He fell to the ground, still screaming.
Turning around, Harry froze.
The werewolf was bent over him, blood seeping from its mouth. Then, suddenly, the werewolf was disappearing from view. Darkness covered Harry's vision, and Harry was positive that he was losing consciousness. But… if your losing consciousness, surely your unable to comprehend that fact?
Then, suddenly the darkness was gone, and the street lights where visible, and the moon was visible, and the werewolf was gone.
The pain that had been pulsing through Harry's body was gone, and there was no wound.
Harry twitched. He was shivering so badly that his entire body was shacking.
He felt cold, pure coldness was spreading throughout his body, starting from his leg, and spreading rapidly. It wasn't the cold you felt when you stood too long near an air-conditioner, it wasn't the cold you felt when you stepped out of your warm house in the middle of a snowstorm. It was a bone chilling cold that spread throughout your entire body. It felt like Harry had just stepped into a freezer, and his very body was freezing. His blood, his muscles, his organs, everything was cooling down. All too soon, Harry's shivers went from fear to cold. His jaw was clacking together loudly in the abandoned street.
Then, the cold reached his heart. Harry gasped, his breathing catching sharply. Suddenly his heart seemed to stop, his lungs stopped, his very blood stopped running.
That… was the first time Harry Potter died.