Chapter 1

Harry saw the werewolf coming towards him. Remus. Moony. There was nothing he could do. He was his cub and the wolf wanted to turn its cub. He was only thankful that the wolf would do nothing but bite.

He knew what this meant. This was the last full moon he would spend as a human. This was the last time that he wouldn't be prejudiced against when people found out. How the hell was he supposed to kill Voldemort when he was a Dark Creature? But just because he was a Dark Creature didn't make him dark. He knew that.

He felt the teeth tear into the skin on his right shoulder. He made no noise. Pain was something he had experienced a lot in his life. The wolf then left him, but he felt a burning in his shoulder-blade, that spread to the tips of his fingers. The curse was cemented. He was a werewolf.

This wasn't what Voldemort had planned to happen. He had obviously not done his research properly. All werewolves developed packs (with other werewolves, humans, vampires and veela) and any children born from those in the packs were considered cubs. Voldemort had planned for him to get ripped limb from limb by the werewolf. But no werewolf would do more than turn its cub.

Harry sat down next to Remus – who was falling asleep – and rubbed circles behind his ears with his fingertips. He'd told Remus before he'd transformed that whatever the wolf did was not his fault. Harry had researched werewolves extensively since the beginning of his fourth year. All his 'night-time reading' books were on the subject, and he had picked up more than a fair amount of knowledge through that. He knew that he would be turned. And he had accepted that. It wasn't fair, but then again, life wasn't fair, at least never to him.

He was due to start his sixth year in two weeks. If he could escape from Voldemort's holding camp, that is. Knowing that it would be several hours before Remus would return to human form, Harry settled himself down on the stone floor and leant his head on the stomach of his companion. He may as well sleep; he would need all his energy tomorrow when he had to look after Remus and try to formulate an escape plan. Escaping without Remus had never been an option. And it never would be.

He was rescued two days later, along with Remus, by the Order of the Phoenix. The same Order of the Phoenix that had not managed to stop him from being captured. However, he couldn't blame them, after all, he had gone wondering off. Remus had found him at the same time as the Death Eaters and they had been out-numbered twenty to two. The two had put up a valiant struggle, but it was fruitless. That had been three days before the full-moon that had changed Harry's life.

Madam Pomfrey was still fussing over him, five days after the rescue. "I'm fine Madam Pomfrey, really," he insisted. "It was just one bite."

He knew that she was glaring at him, but she didn't do anything but take his temperature again. He sighed. No one had been able to visit him except her since he'd been rescued. He had been informed, by Poppy's mumbling, that only Dumbledore, Remus and herself knew of his lycanthropy.

Apparently, this was to help him '"adjust to the changes". And it had helped the first couple of days. When he was getting used to how he could see without his glasses and hear things that he really shouldn't have been able to hear. But he was used to that now and felt so lonely. All the books they give him on werewolves he had already read and there are no other books to read.

But, today, Dumbledore came to see him. And Harry was shocked to be able to smell the power rolling off the wizard. He'd always thought of Professor Dumbledore as powerful, but not this powerful.

"Now," Dumbledore started, after the initial pleasantries, sitting in the chair next to his bed. "Your first transformation will be in three weeks and you're due to start school in a week. And we, that is Remus and myself, have worked out a way for you to prepare and become used to being a werewolf, without being in constant danger. An exchange student arrived at Hogwarts at the beginning of your parent's sixth year. All his paper work indicated he was from Beauxbatons, yet none of the teachers there had ever heard of him when we asked after he had left. He was a newly turned werewolf when he arrived. And we believe that he was you. Will you go?"

Harry stared at the wizard. He was going back in time and going to go to school with his parents! And Sirius, who's loss was still fresh in his mind. He'd miss Ron and Hermione, but he had to do this, it was his only opportunity.

"What do I have to do?" Harry asked, subconsciously rubbing his right shoulder, where there his bite scar was still rather painful. No magical healing method worked on werewolf bites. Fortunately, they worked on the scratches (on werewolves, not on humans), or werewolves without wolfsbane would suffer even more than they did.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and explained that it was a spell. Harry's trunk had already been packed, and his false documents had been made up. His new name was Harry Thomas and all that was left to do was to transfigure his face to look like the boy that they recognised.

When it was over, he looked at his face in the mirror and gasped. His pale skin was now as tanned as Charlie's, his hair dirty blond and neater than it had ever been. His eyes were rounder, rather than their original almond shape, and a deep blue. He was also a couple of inches taller, and his lips chapped and thinner. If it wasn't for the fact he knew that he was looking in a mirror, he wouldn't know that this person was him.

"We'll send you back the day before the New Year; you can spend the night in the Leaky Cauldron, before you get on the Hogwarts Express. Here's a letter to send once you get back in time, you can take Hedwig with you." Once Dumbledore had finished his explanation, he smiled at Harry and turned to leave. Once he was almost out the door, he turned back and said to Harry, "Oh, and by the way, Mr Weasley and Ms Granger are here. They do not know what happened, and it is your decision whether you tell them or not. Here they are."

Moments later, Ron and Hermione entered the room at a run. Ron, with his lanky limbs, reached Harry first. Hermione was a close second however, and the moment she reached Harry, she pulled him into a back-breaking hug. And Harry didn't know what to tell them.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Von, who encouraged me to write another Sirius/Harry. Hopefully, it won't be too cliché.