Disclaimer: I could only wish that I had created such amazing characters and story!
Themes: Severitus; Slash (i.e homosexual relations - if it is not your cup of tea, leave now. Do not complain; if you do not like it and complain to me about it, I will not care for it); HP/DM. It is rated M for a reason! There will be generous amounts of bad language, violence, gore and sexy scenes!
A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction in YEARS. I stopped reading fanfictions when I was about 15/16, and I am now 20. I had begun writing a couple of my own during my teens, but they were awful stories with no plot, and no end planned, and they were mostly inspired by childish fantasies. A bit like Twilight, really.
Recently, through boredom, I started reading (more like ploughing through!) Harry Potter fanfictions, and am obsessed all over again. I have been reading too many, too quick however, and now I find myself bored by the stories I find. This, together with the fact that I have recently decided to write my own original novel, has me writing this story about an idea that came to me only yesterday. I have literally just shot out this chapter in the last couple of hours. I've never written so much, so quick, in one go. I wish that I could write essays this passionately!
Slight warning, I have not planned out this story very far, and I am currently just going with the flow; I have not decided which books I will follow, I may or may not include the Horcruxes - at this point, I have not decided very much as I just wanted to get this first chapter out. Rest assured, I have every intention of completing this story as part of the reason I am writing it is to force myself to finish something, by writing something I am actually interested in!
Anyway, on with the story!
P.S If anyone is interested, the title "Of Wolf And Man" is borrowed from an excellent song by Metallica, of the same name.
1: Blood On The Moon
It was approaching evening, and a blood-coloured full moon was rising. Harry was swinging gently on a rusty swing in the park near the Dursleys. 'The moon looks red today,' he thought vacantly, noticing but not truly paying attention. His dropped his gaze to the ground, and closed his eyes.
He vaguely heard a low howl in the distance.
Light drops of cold rain started to come from the sky, a chilled drop landing on the nape of his neck, which caused a chill to shudder through his body.
It was quite chilly out, despite it being July, but he was not in the mood to care, and especially not in the mood to return to the awful Dursleys.
It had been a month since the horrific, eye-opening battle at the Department of Mysteries, and his death.
'Sirius.'
Harry felt his chest contract painfully at the mere thought of his Godfather's name. He raised his head slowly, eyes unseeing, and breathed out deeply to calm himself.
A squirrel who had been wandering among a large pile of leaves, near to a forest that began at the back of the park, suddenly sat up to attention. Harry's eyes focused at the movement, and he stared, watching quietly.
He heard a small rustle in some bushes nearest to the small, obviously young squirrel. The squirrel, suddenly understanding it was in danger, made to flee.
It understood too late.
In a matter of seconds, a large paw, covered in grey fur, with long, sharp claws had batted the squirrel to the ground, effectively trapping it as the squirrel made an awful, high-pitched cry of something that knew it was about to die, and did not want to. It sounded almost human.
The leaves rustled as the poor, young squirrel fought for its life. Its cry made Harry internally cringe as the noise assaulted his ear drums. He almost wanted to get up and help scare the attacker away, but instead he sat and watched nature's violence unfold in front of him, indifferent.
'All living things die,' he thought, coldly.
The unidentified furry grey paw retreated, dragging its prize into the bushes. Harry could see red blood glistening in its fur. The darkening, cloudy sky started to release rain a little harder.
It had looked almost exactly like one of Padfoot's paws. Harry slammed the thought away before it could overwhelm him. Instead, he focused on trying to figure out what it was, as it had indeed been a strange animal, considering where he currently was.
'Almost wolf-like,' he thought, but since when were there wolves in Surrey? It had been a strange shape too, longer than what Harry thought wolves legs, or even dogs legs generally looked like.
He sat up a little, slowly snapping out of his depressed, pensive mood. Alarm bells were quietly ringing in his head.
All of a sudden, a flash of light illuminated the evening sky, and Harry's surroundings. A slow rumbling noise followed shortly.
Harry's heart pounded, surprised by the thunder. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, as it began to rain harder. The sudden bad weather threw the wariness caused by the strange animal out of his mind.
He grimaced, not wanting to stay out in the cold, but even more reluctant to return the Dursley residence, wanting his freedom in the outdoors to last longer. He stayed sitting on the swing. Slowly, his clothes and hair started to dampen, and he began to tremble with the cold.
Ever since he had returned, he had been in a destructive mood. His emotions seemed to have flowed through the air, to affect the Dursleys' moods in a similar way. Aunt Petunia was more demanding with the chores, Dudley was more vicious with his pranks and bullying, and Vernon... Vernon had been even worse than the other two combined.
Harry cringed in thought at some of the punishments he'd had to endure this summer. He even had a few bruises from moments when Vernon had been seriously angered, and had resorted to physical violence. Unfortunately for Harry, Vernon's angry moods were increasing with each passing day that Harry was left at number four.
And why? Because Dumbledore, with all his aged wisdom and misplaced trust in his Muggle relatives and knowledge of what was apparently "best" for Harry, had sent a letter prior to Harry's arrival, informing them of his Godfather's death.
It explained that Harry would most likely be in mourning, and in "strange and angered moods for the summer" and to "please allow the boy some space and understanding."
'Ha!' Harry thought. He had definitely got some space and understanding... understanding from Vernon's fist, and space in the form of being locked in his room when he was not doing his chores, or generally catering to the Dursleys' every need, like a human house-elf.
Apparently now that Sirius was dead, they need not have fear of retribution for not treating the Boy-Who-Lived with any kind of decency.
The Order turned out to be a useless threat too. After Vernon had exploded in anger after a bad day at work and had accidentally hit Harry for the first time, no enraged wizards in purple hats had descended upon the Dursleys intending on raining Hell's fire on them. No one had shown up that day, or the day after, or the week after.
They had realised that no one was looking out for him. Harry had never felt so betrayed, or alone.
Today, Harry had been lucky enough to learn that he was having the house to himself for the evening as Petunia and Vernon had gone out to attend a work party for the night, not intending to be back until early morning. Dudley had been left to sleepover at one of his cronies' houses.
He felt lucky enough, until Vernon told him he was still to be locked into his room for the entire evening. This was the usual practice, however Harry had felt enraged, seeing as the house would be empty that evening, and the Dursleys had no need to lock him away to avoid him.
Harry was not able to avoid being locked up though, and even if Vernon had not locked up all his things, he was still under-age and could not use magic to help him. Harry had sat on his bed for a while after his relatives had left, silently boiling in rage, wishing fervently that he could use his magic and leave the Dursleys for good, despite the protective wards around the family.
He had realised that he would rather duel an armed Voldemort with only his fists, rather than be stuck with the Dursleys for the rest of the summer, and the next summer.
A while after the Dursleys had left, he had risen from his bed, in a severely bad mood, and went to open the door, hoping, if whatever Gods existed, that they would smile down on him today, and somehow Vernon would have forgotten to lock his door.
He had turned the handle, only to find that Vernon had not forgotten, and that the Gods did not want to help him.
"FUCK YOU" he had screamed, suddenly consumed by the same rage he had felt in Dumbledore's office at the end of the school year, if a bit stronger. He had felt all his negative feelings rise to the top, from the betrayal he felt that neither Dumbledore, nor the Order, nor even his close friends had contacted him since his return to Surrey, to the homicidal rage he felt toward Bellatrix LeStrange, for ridding him of the Godfather he had barely known, and had loved anyway.
He had attacked the door as his emotions cascaded over him, punching and kicking with all his might.
"FUCK YOU," he repeated, "JUST FUCKING OPEN. WHY WON'T YOU OPEN. I FUCKING HATE YOU. JUST DIE, WHY DON'T YOU."
He had continued in this manner until his emotions completely overwhelmed him, and he had broken down against the door in harsh sobs; in pain, physically and emotionally.
In his state, he had almost missed hearing the click of the lock opening, but his ears just caught it.
He had almost stopped breathing; 'Could it be...?' he had thought, refusing to let his hope rise too much.
He had hesitantly stood up to turn the door handle. To his utter surprise and amazement and happiness, the door had opened.
Not understanding what had happened, he took a step warily. Was it some kind of wandless magic induced by his emotions suddenly overflowing like they did, or was it something much more sinister? After quietly and slowly exploring the house for any sign of intruders, or intrusion, Harry had decided that it was the prior. He had beamed in happiness, standing in the middle of the living room, suddenly ecstatic that his magic had helped him.
After releasing Hedwig from her confines of her cage in Harry's room, he told her to fly to the Burrow and stay there until he was able to go get her. She flew off, not before hooting at him sadly and lovingly rubbing her head against his cheek. Harry watched her go sadly.
Since returning from Hogwarts, she had only been allowed out at night. It had been daily at the beginning of the summer, but Vernon had been slowly "forgetting" about Harry's beloved owl, and she had started to waste away from the lack of exercise and hunting for food, when Vernon's convenient bad memory had had her locked in her cage for two or three days at a time. Harry had tried to sneak her food , but it had not been enough, and he could not steal any more for fear of being noticed. He knew Vernon would simply kill her if he had noticed the missing food.
When Harry had set her free, she had been skinny, and her usually soft feathers were rough, and few and far between. He hoped that his surrogate family, if he could call them that anymore, would look after her. After the lack of contact, he did not hold much hope for them to realise, or care enough, that her state meant that he was in trouble.
Harry rose from his thoughts as the rain pounded even harder, now close to being torrential. He sighed in defeat, and stood up from the swing. He stretched, his body aching from being in one position for so long. 'I suppose I should head back before I get ill,' Harry thought. It would not do to catch the flu while Vernon had become so abusive. Harry shuddered at the thought of the pain he would be in, should it happen.
Although pain had become a common occurrence for Harry, it did not get any easier to experience.
He made to leave the park, and as he crossed the threshold to the gates, he thought he heard voices carried in the wind.
He opened the gate slowly, looking around. There was no one in sight, although the rain pouring down onto Harry and his glasses blurred his vision more than he would like. The gate closed itself behind him as he began to walk quickly towards the Dursley residence. A bad feeling was growing inside his chest, and he felt like he was being watched.
His mind remembered for a second the strange wolf-like paw from earlier that had attacked the squirrel, and he quickened his pace, eyes open and mind alert.
He reached the road that he needed to follow to the house, and began to walk down it. He heard laughing coming from the direction in, and slowed his walk.
'Don't be silly, Potter. Other people live here too you know,' he thought to himself, and carried on walking. Still, he was feeling apprehensive, and for a second he felt like he had recognised the laugh.
The talking and laughing got louder all of a sudden, and he stopped cold. A group of rowdy boys had appeared from the turn in the road on the opposite road.
It was Dudley and his gang.
'Shit,' Harry thought. He stood, frozen in fear of being discovered. There were no parked cars or trees to hide behind, and within seconds Dudley had inevitably noticed him.
Dudley stopped abruptly, causing some of his friends to walk into him. "What the hell, man!" Harry barely heard them complaining at Dudley's actions over the rain and wind. Dudley stood, stock still, in the middle of about five other boys. They were all pretty beefy, and could easily beat Harry into a pulp if they caught him.
Dudley shook himself out of his shock of seeing Harry out of the house, "OI, POTTY!" he yelled across the road, a menacing grin suddenly spreading out on his face, as well as his friends' faces when they realised who was across the street from them.
"You're not supposed to be out of the house," he said, gleefully, "wait till mum and dad hear about this!" His friends, who were sniggering spitefully at Harry, suddenly raised eyebrows and looked at Dudley strangely. Dudley looked around him, fat face coloured in red embarrassment.
He knew he should not taunt Dudley, but he could not help himself. He raised an eyebrow, mockingly.
"Aw, am I too much to handle by yourself, Ickle Diddykins? Are you going to run to mummy and daddy forever? Aren't you almost sixteen years old, Diddykins?" he called loudly to be heard over the pouring rain.
Harry did not think that Dudley's face could get anymore purple, or his veins anymore protuding. "YOU FUCKING FAGGOT," he suddenly yelled, stepping on to the curb of the road. His friends advanced with him, all fists clenched.
Harry backed away slowly, "Careful, Diddykins, you've gotten so fat lately, I wouldn't want you to have to run after me, your tits might fall off."
Even from across the road, Harry could see Dudley trembling in rage. "GET HIM!" he screamed out to his friends, as he attempted to run to a quickly retreating Harry. His friends were not as fat, and could probably run quite fast.
He broke into a sprint, heading back towards the park, intent on reaching the forest. If he was caught by the burly lackeys of Dudley's gang, there was no uncertainty that he would be beaten to shit. Even worse, Dudley would tell Vernon, and the shit would not only hit the fan, but everything behind it too.
Harry almost regretted teasing Dudley, but it had felt so good to see Dudley's rage and shame. It had also been quite funny to see Dudley's wobbly bits struggling to stay in place as he had tried to run to Harry. Despite Harry's predicament, he grinned as he ran.
"Get back here, you little shit!"
"Wait 'til we get our hands on you!"
"Little Potty!"
He heard the calls and insults thrown at him from Dudley's mates. He risked a quick look behind, and saw, worryingly, that they were catching up to him, each with a sinister glint in their eyes. He put his head down, and pushed himself to run faster.
He jumped over the gate to the park.
Had he just returned from Hogwarts, after months of excellent, nutritious food, he could have outran them with ease. However, since being at the Dursleys', food had become a rarity, and it was affecting him badly.
He ran past the swing set he had been sitting on earlier, and the slides. The forest was so close now, if he could get into it, he could lose them in the darkness that now covered the forest. He knew the forest was quite deep, having been inside it a few times in the past years, always to get away from Dudley. He was quite confident of his ability to navigate it by now, but he doubted they would run into the forest, not wanting to get lost. They would probably wait around for a while, doubting that Harry knew any other exits.
Harry was reluctant to admit that they were right, but it did not matter now. Dudley had seen him out of the house. Vernon would most likely beat him to an inch within his life if he went back to the house. Even if he managed to avoid Dudley and lock himself in his room again, leaving behind no evidence, Vernon would believe Dudley for sure, if he said Harry had gotten out.
It was time to leave the Dursleys permanently, Harry knew.
It was going to be bloody difficult, considering that he did not have his wand, and could not perform magic without the Ministry knowing anyway. He had a year left 'til he could perform magic outside Hogwarts legally, and on top of that, there was Voldemort.
Harry slowed to a jog after a few minutes of running around the areas he knew inside the forest. He could barely recognise them in the dark, and the rain was making seeing extra difficult, he felt lost at several points, but refused to panic.
He finally stopped jogging at the sight of a familiar tree. It marked a safe area, and beyond it was were Harry had not explored. The forest got a lot thicker and scarier past this point. It was easy to climb for him, and he could climb high enough that he would be out of harms way if the boys had managed to follow him. He clambered up with ease, although he was out of breath, and stopped halfway up the huge tree. He lay with his back against a branch, and tried to catch his breath.
Now that he was not running, and could hear past his own breathing, he heard angered calls and loud taunting aimed at him. He had lost them, but they were staying put at the edge of the forest, as predicted.
Harry sat, and patiently waited for them to leave, as he started to think about his predicament.
Where could he go? Was there anyone he could go to? All of his friends, Dumbledore, and the Order, for all appearances, had essentially abandoned him. He knew if he went to any of his friends, even if he asked them not to tell Dumbledore, they would anyway; the Headmaster would come for him and put him back with the Dursleys.
He would not go back to the Dursleys, ever. Even if he had to contend with Dumbledore, he absolutely refused to be put back into their abusive hands.
Harry sat for a while, mulling over his options. As cold as it was, and as soaked as he was, somehow his eyes started to droop. Harry fought to stay awake, but eventually tiredness overtook him, and he fell asleep.
Harry never noticed that a mere few meters from the tree he was currently dozing in, two red eyes had been glowing sinisterly from the ground, a glint in them that promised trouble and pain. They had followed him as soon as he had entered the forest.
"I have fffffffound you, Potterrrr," something hissed quietly, so quietly that it was almost as if it was just the wind blowing through the trees.
A/N: And that is the end of chapter one! I had originally intended it to end differently, with a bigger cliffhanger, but this is how it went :)
Please spare a moment to leave reviews! How is my writing style? Does everything make sense? Is the grammar okay? Who do you think the mysterious something is?
Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!
Stay tuned for the next chapter, lovelies.