Author: Azazel Lockhart

Rated: R

Pairing: Harry/Edward and Harry/Wolf Pack there might be many more to come.

Warning: Slash, moresomes, threesomes, violence, and language; sex in general

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I wish I did but I don't.

Well I really hope you like my version better, and I hope you enjoy it. Tell me what you think about this first chapter. The sex scenes for this story will be posted on another website to avoid this story being taken down. The scenes will probably be even more detailed than my previous work. You'll receive the link very soon. Love ya.

A whimper escaped his lips as Harry tossed and turned in the early waking hours of the morning. Thick drops of sweat drenched his forehead and thicken his sheets. His hair felt matted to the back of his neck and head, it was so sticky, so uncomfortable. His legs were numb and his body felt weak, but his back, oh his back felt second degree burned. It seared and stung every time his tensed or moved. He didn't know what was wrong, and quite frankly he feared for the worst. He shifted once again and a small cry danced into the air for a moment; he bit his lip to suppress anymore that came to surface. He didn't want to disturb his dormitory mates with his mewling; to mistakenly worry their minds with his wellbeing, oh he's done that enough.

He cracked open an eye, which he only managed to get half lidded. The first thing his groggily state of mind noticed was the translucent uphold on the air it's self. Littered with millions of dust particles and bacteria, which Harry thought he would never inhale. The lidded eye found its way to the curtains that were shielding him from being seen, he could see beyond the fabric hairs, the single threaded holes and punctured marks. The single lined brush strokes of red and orange paint on the walls and the littlest carvings in his nightstand, he could see them. The vibrant and brighter colors, he forever wished to see were there in front of him. Now both of his eyes were wide open and alarmed. Blinking six times per second for no apparent reason, wondering if the fogginess of his once half blind eyes would come back. Even with his glasses on, the sight before him was still not as clear as he wanted it to be. It was always a blur, but somehow not anymore.

He willed himself to sit up, tearing up as he did so. He took a few deep breaths before swinging his limp legs over the side of the bed. He yanked back the curtain and thanked Merlin to see his mates were still soundly asleep. He started to stand, his knees wobbling, and back seizing. He was started to think walking to the bathroom hunch back was a good option. He slowly padded his way over to the shared bathroom, falling back against the shower glass as he as saw his reflection.

Was that him? No, that couldn't be him! The imposter in the mirror seems to have grown half a foot. There was no baby face or childish chub. He had high cheekbones with a thin cute nose. His red lips had a pout to them; he ran his tongue over the soft- full appendages. His exotic Peridot eyes were hooded, framed by long curled upright lashes. Harry took a step closer to mirror, noticing his pupils have morphed into a different shape. The once circles were now eight pointed stars. The Peridot color made his irises look alienated, with a bright green base added with light spectrums of yellow and dark olive. They clashed well with his ivory skin. His hair seemed to be longer- but it was tightly caked to his head and he ran a hand through it, freezing when something thick oozed out onto his fingers. His eyes widened as he felt that same substance slide down his back and seep through his already soaked T-shirt.

He looked at his hand and to his horror, it was red. Like blood and he thought it was. He was panicking, hoping that the sheets and clothes he sweated in weren't really the clothes he bled in. He raised his coated fingers to his nose and took a whiff. I didn't smell like the normal coppery stench of blood, it smelled sweet. Like his favorite chocolate from honey dukes.

'What is happening to me?'

The pain in his back he momentarily forgot about came shooting back with no mercy. His legs buckled and he toppled to the ground, hitting the floor with a thud. The pain was so agonizing he could not stop the curdling scream that emitted the silent air. He let out another one, as his skin felt like it was being ripped to pieces. Tears flooded his eyes and sobs started to fill his ears. Harry buried his face into the cold hard floor, shaking as the pain rippled through his shoulder blades.

'Am I going to die?'

"Harry- oh my god- Harry open the door," a voice screamed and Harry knew it was Ron's, but soon it was the voices of many people and they all started to blend together. There was a person screaming this and a person screaming that. It was all no use since he couldn't get up. There was pounding and banging, maybe someone was smart enough to get their wand out. It wasn't like the door was enchanted or blocked by dark magic, in fact he didn't even remember locking the door, or even closing it for that matter.

"Hermione do something," he heard Dean scream. "Neville go get some help….quickly." Now that was Hermione who spoke, shakily, he knew there were probably tears in her eyes threatening to come spilling out. "Harry—help is on the way…..just hold on."

On the other side of the door, Professor McGonagall came scurrying into the boy's dormitory in her night-gown, her glasses half off her face. "What is going on?" Harry heard her say; she seemed to be talking to Hermione. "Have you tried to use your wand?"

"Yes, Professor but nothing works, I was thinking about using bombarda, but I'm afraid it might hurt him even more." There was silence, perhaps the Professor was thinking, because after a few seconds she busted into a fit of yells. "Everyone is to get out now! Report to the Great Hall immediately!

"But Professor—"

"Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, this not the time to question me; you need to leave. Harry is going to be fine, but you have to follow my instructions. Make sure everyone is in the Great Hall. That includes you Mister Thomas and Mister Longbottom, and please send up Dumbledore! Tell him it's urgent!"

"Potter, tell me what's happening. Where does it hurt?" She cooed through the door.

Harry had his eyes closed and his knees to his chest in a fetal position. "My back," Harry choked, shaking uncontrollably. His eyes shot open when the pain moved to his head. The red liquid streamed from the damp hair, on his forehead staining his ivory cheeks; he cried out again. His eyes darted around only to see stark silver-white blotches of feathers falling down on him or floating in the air. He thought he'd gone mad. He screamed again, this one longer and higher pitched. His back felt so heavy, like some one had set a bolder upon him. He clutched his head; the pain blinding him. He saw two figures standing above, and one of those figures gently cradled him in their arms whispering: "You're going to be alright my boy." Pain clouded his senses and black dots took over his eyes…

Harry found relief only when he blacked out.

…

He knew that smell, it was a very clean smell. The smell of the hospital wing filled his nose like a strong perfume. It seemed to have hit his nose with fury, it kind of hurt to breathe. He was lying on his stomach, his face buried in the over sized pillow; his long hair seemed clean and was sprawled out around him. The pain in his back lessened to a dull ache between his shoulders. Something heavy was still on his back, it was soft and fluffy. It was probably the duvet Madam Pomfrey laid across him to keep him warm.

He rolled over with a groan, only to roll over on his stomach again. The fluffy and heavy thing on his back flailed, whooshing around, white feather falling around the room. It expanded before coming close to his body once again. Did he have wings? No he denied that thought to Hell. He couldn't have wings because that wasn't humanly possible. Harry started to panic; the thing on his back flailing back and forth widely, he tried to sit up, but of course he couldn't. The weight upon his shoulder and back were too much.

The thing expanded upwards, and peering out beneath the expanse of pearly feathers, he saw the face of an amused Dumbledore. Harry didn't know what was so funny and quite frankly he didn't like to be laughed at when an unknown creature was laying across his back like it belonged there.

"What is on my back?" Harry asked his voice hoarse and raw from all the screaming he had done. "What happened to me?"

"You've just went through a transformation, and your wings are on your back of course."

"What?" said Harry uncomprehendingly. He could have sworn he heard Dumbledore say wings, but he forced himself not to believe that nonsense. "I don't have wings and what are you talking about?"

"You'll see," the elder man chided, his blue eyes twinkling. Professor Dumbledore then slid over a mirror and for the second time, Harry didn't want to believe that the person looking back at him was himself.

The were indeed wings sprouted from his back, from the base of his neck, down his shoulder blades and down to his lower back. There were layers upon layers of huge white feathers. The wings were bigger than his whole body; they hid everything, cloaking him in whiteness. He gasped in part awe, part horror. He had bloody fucking wings and he didn't know why. He was now even more a freak then before, this was horrifying. What the hell was he? He knew he wasn't human anymore, and that could just give the Dursley's another excuse to kick him around. He started to throw a tantrum in bed; he wanted it to all go away. For this all to be a nightmare that he would soon wake up from. A whine escaped his throat and he saw Dumbledore moved the mirror away and next thing he knew, Dumbledore was holding a very large book.

"I'm no expert but after what I've seen you better not strain yourself at such a weak body state. Try to relax for the next hour or so. A page in this book might help you understand." Dumbledore said with that stupid twinkle in his eyes again. Harry grunted in replied instead of saying something he was going to regret. But why were Dumbledore's eyes twinkling like that, it annoyed him more than it intrigued him.

The headmaster put the book on a stand and flicked his wrist, the pages flipping dramatically and stopping dead smack in the middle. Harry listened to the instructions he was just given and relaxed, his wings fluttering and coming close to his body; he could feel them all they way down his back and legs, even past his feet. His eyes lingered on the headmaster before training on the book. The title of the page already caught his attention.

Angels

Angels of the arc or arch angels are the highest ranking angel an angel could be. Free to roam the earth, and do as they please. But do they have a purpose? These unmistakably rare humanoids are creatures people never see or hardly hear about. Some even refuse to believe that they're real, and others rely on religion and spiritual beliefs; but oh they are very real. They're the one creature we know such little about. Legends say every time an angel leaves or 'dies' for it to be reborn its soul must pick the right person to give the gift to, a person of pure heart and strong will; a person that is destined. We don't know how many angels are in the world but we do know that there are very few. We don't know when this started or how it started. The first ever reported sighting of an angel was by a young doctor in the early 1600's who claimed to have seen a beautiful winged woman soar up into the sky and disappear. Long flowing hair and huge feathered wings are the only two characteristics the wizarding world knows about and that's just based on imagination. That is all we know and that's probably all we'll ever know. These unknown creatures are truly unclassified.

Harry noticeably shook in his place; he really didn't know what to think of this situation. He didn't know if he was pure and he sure as hell wasn't strong-willed. Nothing made sense; he knew absolutely nothing about himself. What was his purpose? But most importantly why him? The measly paragraph said becoming an angel was gift but Harry already thought other wise.

"What happens now?"

"Well we can't risk anything happening to you, since we don't know what we're dealing with. We don't know you're limits or boundaries, we don't know what you can and can not do. We don't know how powerful you are or could become, we know absolutely nothing. We can't risk you being seen either so you'll have to say hidden or if not hidden just undetected or off the grid." Dumbledore explained while taking the big book back into his rough hands "We need you to discover some things on your own."

"And that means…" Harry prompted.

"That means I'm sending you to a special location with Sirius, school is no longer a problem and the Dursley's will no longer know you exist."

"As fantastic as that sounds; my Godfather's dead, he's been that way for months professor", Harry deadpanned. "I can't possibly see how he could accompany me on such a journey."

Albus laughed, and Harry got offended. Was his own Headmaster laughing at the thought of his only true family member being dead? He didn't like that at all. A low growl rumbled in his throat, ripping in the air. The professor looking taken back, but still had amusement in his blue eyes. "Sirius Black never died, yes you 'saw' him float back into the wall but he indeed came out on the other side. He's alive and well, and looking forward to seeing you again."

Harry's heartbeat soared and he felt his wings twitch. He was going to see his godfather again. But the only other person that cared just as deeply about him was the man who had lived in the shadows these pass few months. Remus was heartbroken and he still is; the death hit him hard. He swallowed thickly. "When do I get to see him?"

"Yeah when does he get to see me? It been months, he deserves to see me as soon as possible," a voice chuckled and Harry's wings started to flap widely, making him air borne for a moment before settling him back down on the bed face first. That voice was the voice of his godfather. He just wished his bloody wings would calm down; it was hard enough with the crippling weight but the things having a mind of its own was too much.

Harry rolled over on his back ignoring the shock of pain. His eyes meet with the brown ones he never thought he would see again. His body did feel a lot stronger, because in a blur of inhuman speed his arms were wrapped around Sirius. His humongous wings doming the two together; Harry not daring to let go and neither was Sirius." Siri, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too Hare bear," Sirius said pulling away from the hug even though he didn't want to. He took a good look at his godson. Harry looking beautiful with inky black cascading waterfall of hair stopping by his curvaceous hips, the high cheekbones and full red lips and the glorious white wings that continued to slightly dome them. Harry smiled and Sirius almost got blinded by the pearliness; the two fangs at the top row of his teeth were really noticeable and not to mention pointy. His eyes were so captivating and beautiful.

"I take your feeling better?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer but a loud one toned thumping sound beat his ear drums. Harry leant into Sirius finding out that sound was coming from him. It was his pulse; Harry could hear the flow of the sweet delectable blood below the skin. He buried his face in Sirius' neck, his head spinning drunk. It just smelt so good; all he had to do was puncture the skin to get the prize underneath. He was so thirsty, not hungry but thirsty. Harry's eyes flashed dangerously and he raised his head, his teeth a mere inch away from the jugular vein. Just one bite….

"Harry!"

Harry snapped out of his trance, the two older wizards looking back at him horror. He backed away from Sirius, his hand over his mouth. "I think I just found out what my preferred drink is."

Dumbledore scurried out of the empty hospital wing, mumbling about something being marvelous. Sirius on the other hand stayed a good enough distance away from his godson; who looked very horrified and apologetic. "Does Remus know you're alive?"

"No."

"Do you plan on telling him anytime soon?"

"Yes."

Albus arrived back, holding a glass of red liquid. The moment it hit Harry's senses he knew what it was. It didn't smell the same from Sirius' but nonetheless it still smelt delicious. Harry was handed the glass, and he hesitatingly raised it to his lips. He tipped the cup slightly, his tongue swiping some up and off the rim. He let out a strangled grunt as soon as the taste hit his tongue, he wanted more. He pushed the cup up fully, letting the blood slither down his throat.

Harry didn't even notice the drops that slid down the corners of his mouth. Albus clapped suddenly, wrenching the glass away. Harry bared his teeth in anger, hissing like any angry cat. Dumbledore took a frightened step back. "It's good to know that animal blood quenches your thirst just as fine."

"That was animal blood," Harry said voicing his thoughts out aloud. "No wonder it smelt different."

"Ha you seem to be adjusting to your new body wonderfully," Sirius said with a sly smile. "You seem to act the same, as you did before."

Harry looked down at himself, noticing he was only wearing a pair of boxers; oh and when did he get a six-pack? He just seems to be sprouting things from all over. He noticed his hair was really long, two feet longer than his usual messy mop. Harry closed his eyes and zeroed in on the sounds in the room. He could hear heartbeats; pulses and even the faintest inhales. He could smell Sirius' blood as well as Dumbledore's tea breath. The scents were mixing together making his nose irritated.

"Harry?"

"I have wings, fangs; I think I have inhuman speed," Harry stated making a mental list. He looked at Dumbledore as if the elder was supposed to know the answer to the question he was going to ask. "What—no claws?"

But Harry spoke too soon, his nail beds stretching and ripping; the same thick red liquid from early dripping from his finger tips. He gasped in shock at the sudden pain, he sunk his fangs into his bottom lip to stop from crying out. The pain stopped and Harry looked down at his inch long razor-sharp claws.

"Spectacular!" Albus stated, looking at them in awe. "Will anything else happen?"

So please give me you're thoughts and objections. I want you're feedback to guide me. My sister Isabella is pretty happy with me, she liked the chapter so I'm thinking you'll like it too. Remember to Review, because if you don't I'll never know what you think about the chapter...

Azazel Lockhart

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