A/N: Taking a bit of a break from Fullmetal Alchemist, so I decided to write this story, since it's been bugging me for a while. This is also the longest chapter I've ever written, so yay!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or My Side of the Mountain


Across the magical world, witches and wizards everywhere raised their wands, for today was an auspicious day. Nine years ago He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been defeated, and the constant fear among the populace had been lifted. And today people drank to that famous boy, who brought down the Dark Lord, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Unbeknownst to the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived was currently sitting bored in a house that smelled like cabbage soup, on a sofa bearing a strong odor of cat food. Not that Harry was really bothered by the smell anymore, or even noticed it, as he'd been dumped here by the Dursleys almost every weekend since he was three. Was he was bothered by was the fact that Ms. Figg, being an old lady with no children, had nothing even mildly entertaining to a boy Harry's age. Instead she had lots and lots of photos of her old cats. Harry was sure that the pictures would have been interesting if he'd been a girl, since it was common knowledge that girls liked cats and everything to do with them. But Harry was not a girl, he was a boy, and he was fairly certain that boys should not spend their Saturdays looking at cat pictures with old women. Now, if Ms. Figg would have had a dog, that might have been a different story, so long as it was a nice dog and not a bulldog like Aunt Marge's horrid beast, Ripper.

Harry heard Ms. Figg calling him from the other room.

"Harry, dear, I have something that you might be interested in!"

He got off the sofa just as she bustled into the sitting room, bearing a small, rather yellowed book. Harry hoped desperately that it didn't have cats in it.

"My father gave me this book when I was younger, trying to encourage me to get out of the house, I suppose. I never did like it very much, perhaps because the author is American." She held it out to him.

Harry took it carefully. 'My Side of the Mountain, by Jean Craighead George,' the cover announced. The faded picture was that of a boy holding a falcon, which raised Harry's hopes that it wouldn't be complete rubbish. "Thank you," he said.

"Best make sure your aunt and uncle don't find that," she said with a conspiratorial wink, "they don't seem like reading folk. I'll wager they haven't let around many books, have they?"

Harry shook his head. "No, they haven't, especially anything with magic in it, because 'there's no such thing as magic,' like I don't already know that."

Ms. Figg smiled sadly.

There was an annoyed sounding knock on the front door, as much a door knock could sound annoyed, anyway.

"Good Lord, are they back already?" Ms. Figg made for the door, and turned around at the last second, "hide that book, boy!"

Harry tucked it quickly into the waistband of his pants, hiding it under his shirt. He probably could have hidden a dictionary there, what with how baggy Dudley's old clothes were on him.

It was indeed Petunia Dursley at the door, her horsey face looking even more annoyed than usual.

"Petunia, dear, what happened? I didn't expect you to pick up Harry for another hour at least!"

"Duddykins ate a funny welk and we had to leave," said Petunia, who glared at Harry like it was his fault. "Well come on, boy, hurry up."

"Bye," said Harry to Ms. Figg.

Alone in his cupboard, Harry pulled out his new book and began to read. It was actually fairly good. Although the beginning was a bit boring, it got good pretty quickly. He finished the book in only a couple of days, keeping it hidden under his mattress. He started wondering if he could pull off what Sam had. He knew there were forests near Surrey; probably not as expansive as the New York Catskills, but they were there. He knew because Uncle Vernon had tried to take Petunia and Dudley camping in them (leaving Harry with Ms. Figg naturally). According to Dudley, Petunia Dursley had thrown a fit when they reached the campsite, and they turned right back around. Harry had been back in his cupboard within the hour.

So, why not? All he would have to do was wait for one of the (very) few times the Dursleys were in a good enough mood to leave the house with his cupboard unlocked and him in it.


Lupin stared incredulously at the letter which had just been deposited by Dumbledore's barn owl.

'Lupin,

There will be several werewolf packs gathering in the forests near Surrey this upcoming full moon, and I wish you to be there representing the Order. Doubtless Greyback will also be there, and while Voldemort's power may be broken for now, there will still be those preaching his position, Greyback among them, which, as you know, does nothing to help public opinion of werewolves.

Respectfully yours,

A. P. W. B. Dumbledore

Lupin didn't generally pay much attention to these gatherings, other than when Dumbledore ordered him to go. He was usually more concerned with finding and holding a job, and with only a couple of exceptions, he didn't really enjoy the company of his own kind. 'Not sure what Dumbledore's trying to accomplish. It's not like my word carries much weight.'

Surrey, that sounded familiar. If he wasn't mistaken, that was where Lily's sister lived with her husband and son... and with Harry.

"Shit."

The other werewolves would have no way of knowing that Harry Potter was residing where he was, but to gather so close to human settlements under any circumstances, especially ones so full of muggles, was asking for serious trouble.

Two apparations, a muggle cab ride, and about an hour and a half of walking later, Lupin could detect the distinctive scent of werewolves wafting on the breeze. In fact, he could smell two very near.

"Oy, Lupin! I see you decided to consort with us low commoners this full moon! Dumbledore get tired of his office smelling like wet dog?"

"If anyone smells like wet dog here it's you. Lysander," said Lupin. He turned around to see a short man with shoulder length sandy hair barreling out of the bushes and found himself knocked flat on his back.

Lysander sat on Lupin's chest and bared his teeth at him.

With a snarl, Lupin grabbed the front of the smaller man's oversized shirt, pulling him down and rolling over roughly to reverse their positions. Or he tried anyway, because Lysander scrambled back, leaving Lupin holding an empty shirt and still lying on the ground. Lupin jumped up, and the men stood, a few between them, glaring at each other.

Lysander's face broke into a grin, and they both started laughing as they hugged tightly.

"It's good to see you, Lysander," said Lupin.

"You're out of shape, Remus," said Lysander, sizing the taller man up, "wandwork's made you go soft."

"Well, most people don't greet each other by engaging in wrestling matches, Lysander, now are you going to introduce me to your lady friend or is she going to spend all day up that tree?"

A foxy haired woman dropped down from her hiding place in the leafy branches of a nearby oak.

"Remus, this is my mate, Laura. Laura, this is Remus Lupin, I helped him out a bit when he was first turned."

"Yeah, I saw him at a meet a few years back," said Laura, wrapping her arm possessively around Lysander's waist. "Dumbledore's house pet, eh?"

"That would be me, yes. Dumbledore sent me, in fact, to represent him."

"Huh, well don't expect many allies around here. Lysander has your back, and I trust his judgement, but Greyback's been gaining support. A lot of pack leaders have forgotten how he was trying to be the Dark Lord's lapdog."

"I'd say more of an attack dog, but the sentiment's the same," said Lysander. "Word is he's planning something, a 'demonstration' in his words."

Lupin swore. "With how close we are to settlements, he's probably planning some kind of raid. And with the anti-werewolf legislation that just passed, he's likely to be listened to."

"Ulfric won't have it," said Laura, "Something like that goes down, he won't let any of his pack take part."

"His is just one pack though," said Lupin, "Strict traditionalist that he is, not everyone shares his views."

"We figured that," said Lysander. "The full moon's tomorrow, it's probably best if we spend it away from the others."

Lupin shook his head. "I can't just leave, I have to try to stop it, or at least try to persuade as many as I can to not participate."

Laura raised her eyebrows, "You're going to get yourself killed, you know that? We'll be at the meet tonight, but tomorrow you're on your own.

"I understand," said Lupin. Such was the life of a loner; those without packs had to take care of themselves.


Harry had been feeling rather proud of himself for getting this far into the forest without getting lost (he hoped). He had been even prouder of himself that he had managed to get to the forest at all without getting caught. It had taken him a day and a half to make it here, and he was glad for the amount of canned food he had swiped when he had made his escape out the back door, while the Dursleys had been outside admiring (rather loudly) Uncle Vernon's new car.

Now, however, it was getting dark, and he couldn't see nearly as well as he could when he was still in the city, even with the full moon. Harry was starting to realize that he might not have thought this through very well. Not to mention that he was getting very thirsty.

'I suppose I could find a park ranger in the morning,' he thought. He didn't really want to go back to the Dursleys and his cupboard, though. He could always lie about his name, make up some story about getting separated from his parents in the woods.

A wolf's howl made him jump, interrupting his train of thought. He hadn't considered the possibility of wolves in the forest. He looked around for a place to hide, a tree, anything. There an oak tree nearby that looked easy to climb, with a large hollow about two meters up.

A twig snapped and he froze, about to climb. Slowly looking around, he saw an enormous wolf some distance away, staring straight at him with golden eyes. With it's stature and shaggy pelt, it almost looked majestic.

When the wolf let out a low, penetrating, rumbling growl, it didn't seem too majestic to Harry. He scrambled up the tree as fast as he could, but the wolf was quicker. By the time he had made it up a meter, it had closed the distance between them and grabbed his foot in its mouth. Harry nearly lost his hold on the tree when he felt teeth go through his shoe and break skin.

His hand was was on the bottom edge of the hollow, if he could just pull himself up, if he could just free his foot...

And as that thought passed through his mind, his shoe slipped off his foot and he shot up into the hollow of the tree, propelled by some unseen force. The wolf was still snarling below, but for now he would be okay. Harry took off his other shoe and threw it down at the wolf, feeling slightly better when he heard a yelp from below. His foot was bleeding though, and it hurt. He didn't have any band-aids, so he took off the sock from his uninjured foot and pressed it to the wound.

For now, all he could do was wait.


A/N: Good? Horrible? I know I skipped the meet, the next chapter will start with the meet and proceed from Lupin's POV.

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