I started writing this a long time ago. A long long time ago. You can see how I improve as this story goes along. I only just finished it though.

Disclaimer - Of course, a 15 yr old girl who is randomly publishing her fanfiction online so owns Harry Potter. Are you lawyers on drugs? What do you think the point of fanfiction actually is? I'm going to sue you for your idioticness. But I own Harold, the bed, the horses, the buckets, the feed they spill on the floor, the mud, the plot um... and the hills, the curtains in the Shrieking Shack, the chickens, (I do actually own the chickens, exept one has fell of her perch since writing this. R.I.P Obadiah.) Anyways...

Chapter One

Harold was a normal muggle, slightly like you. He was an avid reader of the Harry Potter series, but did not; for one moment believe they were true. He was in his early twenties, normal height, normal build, normal hair and in fact he was normal to the point of boringness.

On the wild, wet, windy, moonlit winter's night that our story starts, he was feeding his two horses in a deserted cold, dark barn, in a desolate, rain drenched field, in the middle of nowhere, West Wales.

Over the hills came a loud and desperate howling. Harold dismissed it as a dog, although it seemed much louder than one, yet further away. It didn't sound, quite, normal. The sound of it prickled the hair on the back of his neck as he resisted the wind as he hurried to turn his horses back out into the field. They had, for reasons unknown to him at that time, become so unsettled that they just would not eat. They kept prancing around and knocking the feed buckets flying. It was very rare for any hose to act like this, and especially for the two that Harold owned. As Harold fumbled with the buckles on their head collars, they galloped away; their ears flat back against their heads and their hooves showering him with the deep, sludgy mud that they had kicked up in a terrified fury. Harold stared for a moment, until they were enveloped in the inky blackness that surrounded and destroyed his senses. Why were they so distressed? They were used to the weather conditions, and there was nothing more around, was there? He fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. The sooner he was out of this place the better. It was starting to creep him out.

Behind him came the ominous sound of heavy, ragged, breathing. Harold whipped around and stared. Blocking his path towards his jeep and his one source of safety was a huge, shaggy grey wolf. The creature lifted its head and howled and Harold wondered how the sound had ever been confused with that of a dog. The information that was rushing through his brain went into override. There were no wolves left in Wales. This was no ordinary wolf. This was no other than...
The werewolf howled once more, then pounced. Harold was smothered in a tangle of teeth, hair, mud and smelly breath. He fought as well as he could but was no match for the ruthless aggression of the monster. His arm instinctively went to his face to protect it, but there was nothing remaining to protect his arm. The fangs pierced right through the many insulating layers that Harold had wrapped himself in. They imbedded themselves into the petrified cold flesh of the upper half of Harold's limb.
The moonlight continued to stream down as it witnessed Harold's petrified form becoming rigid. He started to twitch. His nose elongated. His hair grew grey. His hands and feet tuned to paws with claws that were unnaturally long. He raised his shaggy head and joined in with united the howl of the other werewolf, then galloped with a long, lolloping speed, and felt his mind leave him as he followed the other werewolf away.

The next thing he knew was he was in an old shed along with a man who looked oddly familiar. His hair was haunted with grey streaks that Harold knew that he would soon get if half of what had happened that night was true.
The man stirred himself.
"Hello" he said. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Remus Lupin. And you are?"
Harold stared on, completely flabbergasted.

And review. Now. before I hunt you down.