Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I only write fanfics for fun. Don't sue.

Unaware - Chapter One

The boy leaned against the window, savoring the feeling of the cold glass against his warm skin. It was hot- so hot that the boy hadn't even bothered to put on a shirt.

It wasn't as if anyone was going to see him- his family had left him alone for two weeks, and had shut off the air conditioning to 'save money'. He knew that they really did it out of spite, but he was used to it. Two weeks without them was worth the heat.

He brushed back a lock of black hair, sticking to his forehead, and momentarily felt the bumpy surface of the scar- forever marring his face. The boy shook his head at the thought and leaned back into his bare bed. He had no use of blankets, and they were scattered on his floor.

"Damn..." He muttered. He was sure it was hotter inside the house than out. The boy stood from his position near the window and began to pace the room, hoping it would help him get his mind off the heat.

The tactic was unsuccessful. The heat pressed against the boy's small frame, and he allowed a grimace to form on his face. Glancing out of the window for a moment, he bit his lip in thought. While it was dark out, it wasn't too late. A walk outside wouldn't hurt anything. Grabbing a baggy white t-shirt, the boy quickly pulled it on. He flung open his bedroom door and headed down the staircase, pausing for a moment in the living room. It was an odd occurrence to not be greeted with curses and yells as he walked downstairs, and the boy allowed himself to enjoy the moment of silence. But the heat deterred him from staying too long, and he quickly opened the front door and walked outside.

While it was hot as well outside, the wind was strong and was refreshingly cool. The boy began to walk down the street, enjoying the night air and the glow of the full moon. It was silent except for the steady pounding of his feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, and the boy slowly began to be at ease.

His moment of relaxation was broken by a shrill voice. "Harry Potter!" Harry glanced up, only to see Ms. Figg- an old and slightly senile woman, who was a bit too obsessed with cats. She was standing in her lawn, her hands on her hips in reproach. "What are you doing out so late, boy?"

"Ah, well, I was just out on a walk." He answered, a nervous smile present on his face. "Nice night, isn't it?"

"Out on a walk!" She muttered, almost to herself. "Out on a walk!"

"Yes?" The woman was strangely protective of Harry, and it unsettled him. While she had babysat him a few times as a child, Harry was almost fifteen- to old for a random woman to concern herself with his safety.

"It's almost three in the morning!" The woman exclaimed, face pinched in anger and worry. "If you go on a walk now, you won't return!"

"Ms. Figg, it's not even nine." Harry gently corrected her, trying to repress his irratation from showing on his face.

"Still too late!" She shrieked, her face growing red in anger, and worry.

Harry let out a sigh and pushed back his hair in annoyance. "Ms. Figg, I really don't think I'll run into trouble around Privet Drive." He didn't know why the woman was freaking out about a simple walk- it wasn't like they lived in an especially dangerous area.

She gave him a glare before nagging, "Shouldn't you be working on your summer homework? Or be sleeping?"

"I finished it ages ago." He lied, glancing away from the woman. "Stonewall really doesn't assign much." That, at least, was true. The school wasn't really known for it's academics- more for the bad reputation the students bring to it. The sheer amount of bullying was almost frightening- but Harry had been able to avoid being picked on for most of his time at Stonewall. "And I can't sleep." Harry was plagued with strange nightmares, ones that he could barely understand. He always dreaded sleeping because of them, and put off going to bed until late.

The woman's lips pursed in distaste at the mention of Stonewall, and she said, bitterness flooding her voice, "Stonewall, pah! A boy like you shouldn't be going to Stonewall!" She spit the name out with disgust, her eyes narrowed. "Really? What was Albus thinking? Stonewall!"

Harry wasn't sure what Ms. Figg was blabbering about, but he really didn't expect her to make sense. It was generally accepted around the neighborhood that the woman was loosing it- and Harry had to agree. "Albus, Ms. Figg? I think you mean Vernon, my uncle."

She shot him a look before continuing. "I know what I mean, and I mean Albus." An almost silent sigh escaped her lips. "But I suppose it doesn't concern you. Very well- run along. But you better hurry!"

While Harry had no intention of hurrying, he simply nodded to Ms. Figg, which seemed to appease her. She slowly walked back to her front door, and Harry smiled in relief. Finally.

He continued down the street, enjoying the silence and the cool breeze, forgetting Ms. Figg's warning completely. The woman was senile- what did she expect to happen? It was only nine, and he was in the middle of the suburbs. Reaching the end of the street, Harry turned left, heading for the park.

Even though Harry knew that most of what Ms. Figg said was rubbish, her words continued to bounce through his head. 'A boy like me?' He bit his lip in thought, 'What did she mean by that?' Harry knew that he was nothing special- he was average in everything he did. Maybe Ms. Figg thought Harry was a genius or something out of fondness for the boy she used to watch. That must of been it.

He supposed that he probably could of gone to a better school than Stonewall- he wasn't unintelligent or anything. But he knew that his uncle would never send him to anywhere but Stonewall. Private schools were too expensive, and he knew that his Uncle took a bit of sadistic joy in seeing Harry in that hideous grey uniform.

At the sight of the park in the distance, Harry forgot about Ms. Figg's comment for a moment. Approaching the playground, Harry headed for the empty swing set and sat down. Gently swinging back and forth, he allowed himself to forget about Stonewall. Harry swung back and forth, letting himself daydream about nonsense- girls, and cars, and food.

The sudden sound of a stick snapping broke his thoughts, and Harry glanced around in the dark. His chest suddenly tight with irrational fear, Harry couldn't help but remember Ms. Figg's insistence about the dangers of walking in the dark. "Hello?" His voice echoed in the silence. He sat, tense with worry, and after a few moments he allowed himself to relax. It was just an animal, obviously. He was just a bit jumpy, and was overreacting to the smallest things.

A second snap caused Harry to jump up from his position on the swing, his eyes darting around through the dark. He spotted a dark outline, emerging from the woods a few yards away from the playground. He squinted, trying to ignore the fear as it grew closer.

It was an animal, some sort of animal. It looked somewhat like a large dog, but for some reason, at the sight of it, shivers went down his spine. He backed up as it slowly approached him, his heart still pounding rapidly in fear. He wasn't sure why he was scared at a simple dog, but something about it caused his entire body to be flooded with panic.

Harry spotted a human figure slowly following the animal, and Harry tried to tell himself that it was just an owner and his pet taking a walk. It wasn't anything dangerous- surely, it wasn't!
The growl of the animal caused Harry to take another step back, and he silently wondered how fast the thing could run.

"Easy, Fenrir." The man said, his silken voice echoing through the park. The man glanced up at Harry, and the moonlight illuminated his pale face and long, silvery blonde hair. "Ah, Harry Potter, I suppose?"

"H-How do you know who I am?" Harry stuttered, trying to ignore the instinctive fear and appear strong. What did this man want with him?

A smirk formed on his face, and he pointed a single finger at Harry's forehead. "Your scar." Still confused, Harry opened his mouth to question that, but the man quickly continued, "But that's not important. You are to come with me immediately."

Even though every instinct in his body screamed at Harry to be quiet, he ignored them. He wasn't about to wander off with a strange man and his dog. "Uh, no. Why would I go with you?"

The man let out an amused chuckle before responding, "An old friend of yours is just dying to reunite with you, Potter." His smirk widened, and he added, "He would be most displeased if you refused to see him."

Harry didn't know what the man was talking about, and he didn't want to know. He just knew that something was wrong, and if he went with the man, he would be a fool. Harry paused for a moment, before turning around and running.

He forced himself to run as fast as he could, and his chest felt heavy at the effort. But he didn't dare stop- he could hear the pounding of an animal's feet, chasing him.

Harry shot down the street, turning down to Privet Drive. Almost there- almost home! He was almost past Ms. Figg's home, and he tried to ignore the sound of the animal behind him, growing closer with every moment-

His jeans were caught in it's jaws, ripping a hole in them. He let out a gasp of fear, stumbling for a moment, and that was all the animal needed-

Pain- white hot pain- shot through his leg as the animal's jaws ripped into his flesh. His scream of pain- sheer pain and terror- flew out of his lips as he saw the blood, flowing out of the wound and staining the pavement red.

The animal tugged the boy down, crimson blood dripping off it's jaw. Through the pain, Harry could swear that the animal's eyes were aware, alive with a sadistic spark of joy. It's jaws grew closer to Harry once more, and he closed his eyes in terror- it was going to devour him!

Electric pain exploded past his eyes as it's teeth, sharp and bloody, met the boy's gentle and soft arm- the flesh broke and bled and Harry let out another scream of pain. His whole street must of heard him, why wasn't anyone coming to help?

The animal's face was covered with his blood, but it didn't seem satisfied and it's jaws opened once more-

"Enough, Fenrir." The man's voice echoed down the street, and Harry glanced up. The man walked at a slow pace, an amused smile on his face. He stopped a foot or two away from Harry's head, before kneeling down to speak to the boy. "That was not very polite, was it?" Harry replied with a whimper of pain as he watched his blood pool around his arm and leg. He was loosing too much and he was having trouble concentrating through the pain.

"Will you accompany me now, Potter? Or does Fenrir get a snack-" The man was interrupted by a sudden popping sound- and then a flash of red- and suddenly, the man was on the ground. He felt the weight of the animal fly off him as a bright red beam hit it as well.

Harry couldn't muster up enough energy to react. His world was slowly growing dimmer, as his blood soaked the ground. He glanced up a bit as a man leaned over him, a rather old man with a long white beard and bright blue eyes- his face creased with worry. "Harry?"

Harry didn't reply, the pain making it difficult to speak. His eyes were falling shut, and he could barely hear the muttered curse of 'Damn it- he's been bitten, Albus-" before he knew only darkness.