Chapter 2: Howls in the Night

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And without further ado, chapter two!

Harry Potter belongs to J.K.

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oOo

Over the next few weeks, things only continued to escalate. The pain from Harry's wound became less noticeable, though the scar still hurt like mad whenever he or anyone else touched it…but the Dursleys seemed determined to ignore the fact that anything had happened at all. At first, they had seemed to think it a matter of appearance and good form to take him to the doctor, but when Harry had showed them that the wound had, indeed, closed up mostly on its own, they had looked at him as if he were some kind of monster, and had forbidden him to talk about it to anyone.

But Harry, uncharacteristically, had questioned them about this. The strange undercurrent of anger he had noticed that night hadn't gone away. In fact, the more time passed, the later into the month it got, the harder it was becoming to suppress this anger. And in other ways, too, he was feeling more strongly the effects of the lonely life he had at his aunt and uncle's. It wasn't just anger, but depression, and a sudden new awareness of his isolation…he felt himself almost pining for some kind of emotional and physical closeness…but there wasn't anyone…or anything…that could help him this way.

Perhaps in response to this, he had begun to fantasize almost obsessively about his parents, and each night he would picture them, though their faces were always hazy, wrapping him up in their warm, comforting arms, laughing and talking and making him just feel...complete.

But each night, his fantasies would give way to nightmares, the dreams ending in a horrible flash of green light, blood-curdling screams all around him... and he would wake up panting.

And wrenched from these dreams in the morning, he would find himself even lonelier, and even more resentful of the reality of his situation and the Dursleys' treatment of him.

It was the last night of the month-a full month since the attack-and Harry was being punished for talking back to his uncle. The punishment, this time, was to go without dinner.

And Harry was starving. For that was another thing which had been a source of conflict. In the past, Harry had resignedly accepted the smaller, and less protein-full, rations he would be given at mealtimes (particularly as compared to Dudley's over-healthy portions), but over the course of the month, it had become increasingly difficult.

Whenever Dudley would slurp down a piece of bacon, and Harry would be stuck with some dry cereal, he would find himself almost salivating…in fact, the cereal seemed to have no taste, and the smell of the meat in the same room was tempting. So tempting, in fact, that Harry felt a tug from within him to reach out and snatch some from Dudley's plate before he could touch it with his greedy fingers.

And on one occasion, he actually did sneak some when Dudley wasn't looking…and it had been fantastic. Unfortunately for him, the Dursleys had noticed his newfound love for meat, and perhaps that was why they had decided, on this night when Harry was being grounded and stuck without dinner, to have steaks.

He tried to coax himself to sleep. He tried to press himself into his pillows to ignore the smell…but it was too suffocating. What is wrong with me?

It had almost taken over his mind, and he found himself making some involuntary strange growling noise, and suddenly really didn't feel quite himself. It was as if there were another Harry within him, right below the surface of his consciousness, who had moved in a month before, and who had been trying to get him to defend himself…and right now, Harry was so truly hungry, and so exhausted, and this other Harry, whoever he was, was suddenly so determined… that Harry decided to relax and let him have his say.

It felt great to give in and let this other persona take control. Harry was barely conscious of standing up and nearly ripping the locked cupboard door from its hinges, with strength he wasn't aware he had. He smirked at the freedom, but then growled as he heard his relatives' outraged tones at the commotion. They ran into the hallway, but Harry nimbly crept around them and raced into the dining room. Before they could stop him, he snatched a steak from the centerpiece, and ate it right there.

By the time he felt himself again, he was standing there, his hands covered in juices from the steak, looking very sheepish as the Dursleys ran into the room looking livid and horrified.

"You! You animal!" Petunia shrieked.

Dudley was slack-jawed and simply stared at Harry, and Harry felt himself cowering under the stares of the three combined. Where had his confidence gone? It was as if his stronger alter ego had abandoned him after eating the steak…

And then Vernon marched over to him, and lifted him straight up by the shirt. "YOU!" He screamed, spitting in his face, "We have taken care of your ungrateful, disgusting self for far too long, and you have finally shown your true colors! Well that's it! You're a freak, just like your parents, and we won't put up with it! You're out!" And without another word, Vernon carried Harry to the front door, threw him onto the front lawn, and bolted the door.

Harry sat there for a long time, shivering despite the summer early evening not being particularly cold. Not that he'd ever received any affection from the Dursleys, but at least their house had been somewhere he could sleep, and be. He couldn't remember any other home, and he just couldn't think of anywhere to go… but without any other option at the moment he could think of, he began to wander. Clearly, he couldn't return. At least not right now…and he vaguely thought that, if he were to get lost, maybe he'd get put with some foster family that would treat him better…

The sun set completely as he continued to wander, and slowly the moon crept up into the sky. It was comforting, the moon. It, at least, was a constant in his life, and not one that dealt him painful blows and punishments.

And tonight, in particular, it made him feel stronger…and he somehow felt as if it were reacting with his bones, his muscles…feeding and energizing something within him.

Harry had by now left the suburban area around Privet drive and was wandering through woods which took him out into the country. It was greatly devoid of people, particularly at this time of night, but it didn't make him feel lonely. He actually felt more at home, here, surrounded only by animals who didn't think he was a freak or a waste of space…

Harry sighed and took a deep breath. How he wished he had a real family, or even just a real friend. If only he had just one person who could really be there for him…with him.

He suddenly felt an almost absurd pull to look up. It was as if the moon were responding to his thoughts, coaxing him, lifting his head to stare into its bright, beautiful orb of light.

Once Harry looked up at it, he couldn't look away. His heart began to speed up, and his muscles tensed. He was frozen, and his mind seemed to flatten out, to go on holiday. All that existed for him, at that second, was the moon, and the vibrations of the woods around him, and his body…and then a sudden, sharp pain shot through him, paralyzing him…but he couldn't call out, couldn't scream. And he couldn't look away.

Something was moving inside of him. No. His insides were moving…the pain was horrible, and so very, very odd. Everything was contorting-his vision, his breathing, his hearing…his arms and legs felt as if they were being stretched, and he wondered if they were about to pop from their sockets…and then the horrible stretching feeling was in his torso as well, and the ground flew away from him, as if he'd grown four feet in a matter of seconds…and then he lost his balance, and tipped forward, but he caught himself on his hands and feet which was odd as well. Since when had they been the same length? He tried to talk, to cry, but his voice was different…and it didn't sound human.

He let out a low, terrified whine-a whimper-and then, unable to help it, he looked back up at the moon, and howled. He froze, eyes wide, now absolutely insane with fear and confusion, and noticed that his nose had grown, and looked more like an…animal muzzle… and then he looked at his hands and…they weren't hands…

He felt that second presence within him pushing him away-not roughly, but insistently, coaxingly, as if trying to calm him and tell him everything was okay.

But everything wasn't okay…This had to be a dream. Harry howled once again, and this time…he thought he heard a howl in response…Then he knew no more…


oOo

Moony howled in sweet freedom. He was free…out…and he'd been able to fight past the silly wards Remus had put on their home this evening…he knew why. Remus hadn't put them in place as firmly as he usually did-for he'd been distracted…for the same reason he was, whether Remus knew it or not.

This smell…it was so familiar, yet it had its own, original flavors. But he knew it was just what he'd been looking for, what he'd been missing and hoping for. Delicious, so pure. So right. His.

Ecstatic, Moony raced like mad towards his destination. Plunging through and into the dark woods, he loped along without hesitation. His senses were so heightened tonight. After years of being alone, he knew he was close…and there!

In the little clearing, a smaller, black wolf was tearing into a rabbit, growling fiercely. Moony licked his chops and stopped. He watched the little wolf fling the dead animal into a tree across the way before leaning back to bite at his own tail. Moony howled assertively at the moon, and he could feel the wolf before him stop and give him his attention.

Moony looked forward and growled, and the black wolf crouched, growling right back at him, his fangs bared. Tail wagging, even as he continued to growl, Moony began to stalk the smaller wolf, pacing around him for a time, enjoying the green and gold eyes watching his every move…and then he pounced on him with a fierce, low, growling bark.

The black wolf growled back, and scratched up at him, attempting to wrench himself free, to gain some mastery of the situation, but Moony only howled in confident assertion. The two wrestled for a time, but every time they would break for a moment, Moony, being a good two feet taller and much sturdier than the other, would end up on top. With an amused growl, Moony bent forward and bit the little wolf sternly on the neck, and the black wolf froze.

For a time, the little wolf didn't move, and eyes wide, he just kept up a low, even growl…but then his growls subsided, his eyes closed part-way, and he stretched more fully onto his back, revealing his tummy to Moony, and bared his neck for the larger wolf.

Moony growled again, and bit him harder, cementing his claim, and the black wolf whimpered slightly.

Moony released his grip on the dark-furred neck, and then crouched over him and began to lick him…beginning with his neck, he then moved to his muzzle and down to his chest…and when the smaller wolf closed his eyes trustingly, Moony only increased the insistency of the ministrations, nuzzling him gently.

Contentedly, the smaller wolf licked him back, and Moony stepped off of him.

The black wolf pushed to all fours, and looked up at Moony, tail between his legs. A low growl in the back of his throat, Moony knocked him to the ground and the two began to wrestle once again, though more playfully this time. Rolling around, trading bites and licks, howling and growling, they would then jump up together and chase each other through the woods until finally, exhausted and satisfied, they curled into each other to fall asleep, offering each other the kind of comfort no other being possibly could…


oOo

When Remus woke up, he first noticed the pain he was so used to-the deep, dull, tired ache in his muscles and bones which followed every one of his transformations, reminding him of the impossible contortions that they'd just undergone.

The next thing he noticed, however, was the absence of a familiar pain. It had been ten years, give or take, since he had woken from a transformation without a new slough of self-inflicted bite wounds, and yet, here he was, moderately unblemished. He also felt less drained, and the familiar terror and loneliness he was so used to feeling upon waking-that, too, was less than usual.

Somehow, the previous night's transformation seemed to have been much easier than those in recent memory. Almost like those wonderful times back with-

Remus froze. As his hazy mind found its way back to consciousness, his human intellect struggling to wake as it always did after a full moon, he hadn't noticed…but something soft and warm and smooth was pressing into his back, wrapped around his legs.

Sitting up suddenly, he peered down and his heart jumped violently. A small, naked figure-just a little boy, based on what he could tell from his size-was curled behind him, clutching to his legs as he slept.

Remus' heart panged and a rush of horror surged through him all at once. Though he couldn't remember more than a few vague impressions and sensations from his time as Moony the night before, it was clear what had happened-not just from the boy's nakedness against his own, but the way the vulnerable-looking figure was clutching to him-for security-not in fear…

While this calmed Remus' immediate, violent terror that the boy might have been his own victim-that he had bitten him in the night…he was shot through with a wave of horror on a different level at the evidence this presented that the boy, himself, must already be…must have already been turned before. Remus was suddenly certain of it.

But he was so young! He looked almost unbearably, painfully innocent curled up, asleep like that. It was too dark to see the young werewolf's features, but he clearly had a mop of messy hair and was overly thin…And to think that he would now have to deal with the persecution, the hardships and injustices Remus was so familiar with that society put up against their kind…

The thoughts filled him with sudden, powerful protectiveness for the boy.

Reaching down, Remus pulled the child gently into his lap, curling him in his arms. When he moved him, the boy, still asleep, nevertheless made a small whine of protest, but then relaxed instantly in Remus' grip, nuzzling into his chest. Remus felt a sudden warm wetness on his chest, a feeling which called on some instinctive drive within him-whether of love, or protectiveness, or contentment, it was hard to say-and he realized the boy was gently licking his chest where his face was buried.

Nuzzling him back almost involuntarily, Remus gathered him closer.

Remus continued to just hold him, rocking him gently, his human concern for the child mixing with his wolf's fierce protectiveness of one so young, but then the boy began to shake violently.

"It's okay, cub. I have you," Remus whispered reassuringly, over and over, into his ear as he ran one hand up and down the boy's back.

Making up his mind in an instant, Remus cast a wandless disillusionment charm on both of them-a spell he had made sure to perfect a good time before for just such an occasion, as Moony had the unfortunate tendency to leave him, clothes-less, in public areas…

The boy shivered slightly in Remus's arms as the charm washed over him, but Remus pressed him even more tightly up against him, and securing the boy's arms around his neck, he carefully stood and swiftly began to carry him through the woods.


oOo

Careful not to bump him against anything, Remus hurriedly entered his ramshackle home, making to secure the door behind him when he noted with displeasure that the door was unhinged…clearly, that had been Moony's escape route last night…

First things first, he carried his little guest to his bedroom and set him, as gently as possible, on the bed. Snatching his wand from a little spell-guarded safe under the bed, he quickly fixed the front door, reapplying the necessary wards before returning to the bedroom.

Muttering 'lumos' under his breath, and then making to quickly fix the room's broken lamps from his apparent rampage the night before, he then lifted the disillusionment charm on himself and then on the young werewolf.

The instant he saw him, now in full light, out of the disguising shadows of the nighttime woods where they had been previously, Remus gasped, leaping back in shock, his heart nearly flying into his head.

The boy, curled up tightly as if he were doing his best to take up as little room as possible, had a shock of unruly dark hair flopping ungainly over his forehead, eyes and cheekbones…

Very familiar dark, unruly hair.

Calming himself with assurances of how absurd his initial response had been, probably nothing more than his own tragi-comedic self-insertions onto this boy, Remus took a few steps closer to examine him more carefully…

Then his eyes widened. It wasn't just his hair. His features…his face-if Remus didn't know better, he'd have to think he was…

"James?" He whispered it so quietly to be almost indiscernible, but then shook his head roughly. He knew how impossible that was. James was…

And the more he looked, the more he noticed that the boy, who had to be no more than ten or eleven-almost just the age his friend, James Potter, had been when they'd first met on the Hogwart's Express-though remarkably similar in appearance to his friend, was not quite the same.

His facial contours, while close, were slightly softer, less angular. And again, he was thin. Not to say James hadn't been, but this boy almost looked undernourished.

With a jolt, Remus realized he'd left him fully unclothed and uncovered. Muttering a summoning charm, he pulled a nightshirt and a pair of boxers from his chest of drawers and quickly, but as gently as possible, dressed the boy, pulling the sheets up and over him and then thinking to quickly snatch himself some shorts and a robe for good measure.

The clothes were far too large for the boy, but at least he looked slightly less vulnerable having something around him. Ever so gently, Remus sat down on the bed and began to run his hands through the child's soft hair, and he continued to stare at him, feeling almost incapable of looking away, wondering at the boy's startling familiarity…

And then it hit him, and his gut plummeted violently.

"H-Harry?" He whispered, eyes wide, terrified to know the truth. But slowly, gently, he lifted the boy's dark bangs, revealing a little lightning-shaped curse scar.

Remus gasped and stumbled backwards off of the bed, catching himself on the wall behind him.

It is. He is. James and Lily's son…but…No…!

He was horrified. His best friends' son, after everything else he'd been through, had apparently been plunged into the same cursed fate he himself had been dealt. It was too much, too unfair, and Remus began to shake, leaning on the wall and rubbing his eyes with his palms.

James! Lily! I'm so sorry! I've…I've really failed you now…How could this happen? I should have been able to do something!

Even as he thought it, some part of him realized that he was certainly not capable, just by virtue of being a werewolf, of monitoring and controlling the activities and victims of others…but at the instant, such a practical argument meant nothing in light of the horrifying truth that his friends' innocent son had…

Remus was jolted out of his thoughts as he heard a pitiful sound from the bed. Looking up, he noticed that Harry was squirming under the sheets, twisting around, fists clinched and moving up to rip at his hair, and he was shaking and whimpering…

Remus flew to him instantly. "Harry? Harry, cub, what is it? It's okay! Really, it is!"

But Harry seemed to be dreaming-he wasn't in the state to be easily comforted consciously.

Without hesitating another instant, Remus climbed onto the bed beside him and pulled Harry into his arms, bundling the covers up more snugly around him.

Harry's whimpers quieted a bit, but he still seemed terrified, haunted by whatever he was seeing, and then he began to claw at Remus' chest.

Rather than moving or pulling away at this, Remus gripped him even closer, rubbing one hand gently up his back, massaging the back of his head through his soft hair, but it didn't seem to be enough. Harry was still shaking.

And then, that familiar alter ego, always lurking just beneath the surface, pushed up to have his say. But rather than instantly clenching down his hold over Moony as he usually did, Remus became suddenly aware, with no little surprise, that somehow his wolf seemed to care about the boy as well…he could feel Moony wouldn't dare harm him. And in light of his own uncertainties of how to comfort him, Remus let Moony take over.

With a soft growl, he began to nuzzle the boy's neck and cheek, and before long, the whimpers stopped.

Growling softly again in satisfaction, Moony gently bit down on the boy's neck and Harry truly melted into Remus's chest and into restful sleep.

With a sigh, Remus continued to hold the sleeping boy, watching him, not daring to close his eyes…and not wanting to.


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Next update should be out shortly.

Till next time!

tess4aria