2: Bitten

Harry slowly regained consciousness as his body shivered spastically, realising that it was freezing cold. He frowned with his eyes closed, and reached a hand over his legs to bring the duvet over his shivering frame. He realised slowly that his bed was suddenly really uncomfortable, and did not feel like a bed at all. He could not find the duvet, either.

His eyes snapped open in sudden comprehension, "Shit!" he exclaimed. He sat up sharply, looking around wildly in panic, and almost fell out of the tree. He grabbed the trunk for support, and steadied himself. His brain registered that it was still night time.

He sighed in annoyance at himself, 'well done, Harry. Bloody brilliant. How you've survived Voldemort all these years, I do not understand.'

Making a face, he stretched his now aching body, and examined the area. In the now complete darkness of night, he could not see much at all. 'It's lucky my bloody glasses didn't fall off... what a disaster that would've been,' he thought grimly.

Seeing that it was clear below, he began to descend from the tree. His body was stiff from sleeping on a branch, and it was a slow descent.

Finally, he put his foot on a branch near to the ground, and jumped off. He landed awkwardly, and fell backwards onto his behind. He closed his eyes and sat there for a moment, gathering himself.

"Dammit!" he said aloud. He stayed in his spot, glumly. 'What am I supposed to do now? I can't go back to the Dursleys, Vernon would probably...' Harry shook his head, hard. He did not want to think about that.

Harry floundered mentally. He could not go back to the Dursleys, and he did not want to sneak in either. Doing so meant there was a risk of getting caught by them, and he preferred freezing in an empty, non-abusive forest until daytime compared to even the thought of that.

His eyebrows frowned in thought. Where could he go? Maybe if he could make it to London, he could go to Gringotts, get some money out and spend the rest of his summer in the wizarding world, by himself!

He perked up a little, deciding that for now, this was the best plan of action. Now he just had to make it to London. And before that, he would have to get out of this forest.

A harsh wind suddenly ripped through the forest and howled at Harry as he scrambled up from his fallen position. He quickly sat himself against the big trunk of the tree he had unwittingly used as his bed, trying to shield himself from the biting wind.

He put his arms around himself, and head down, trying to conserve any warmth he had left.

'This was the worst day to escape,' he thought to himself. Indeed, Harry's body was shivering all over, and it did not help that his clothes were soaked through in rain and cold. He was not feeling at all up to scratch – his face was hurting all over from the cold, his back ached endlessly, and his throat was sore. 'And now I've also gone and got a cold. Excellent work, Potter,' his thoughts, irritatingly, sounded a lot like Snape's voice. 'At least it isn't raining anymore.'

It was still thundering though. Harry jumped as a white flash and a deafening rumble suddenly illuminated the area around him. His heart raced.

He sat, annoyed at the weather and himself, not knowing what to do. Another blinding flash, and an even louder rumble. Harry hugged himself tighter.

The hustle and bustle of the forest reached his ears through the wind. Bushes were rustling. Animals were crying out. Twigs were snapping.

Wait a minute. Twigs were snapping. Near him. Loudly.

Harry's head jolted upwards and he stared at the area in front of him. Lightening flashed again, and for a second, it was like daylight.

Harry felt his blood stop in his veins. He could not see anything in the darkness, but in that one second of light, he could have sworn that he had seen a grey, bloodied paw not a few meters from him.

He felt paralysed. He could not move. He could not breathe. Had he really seen what he thought he had seen? Or was the darkness and his eyes playing tricks on him?

Another twig snapped. This time, he heard a low growl carried across the wind. Adrenaline surged; he jumped up, and without looking back, Harry practically flew into the thick, unknown part of the forest as if his life depended on it. And it felt like it did.

The thunder rumbled harder, and soon, rain followed. It felt like a storm was beginning to rage, both in the weather and in Harry's mind and body.

He ran and ran, not caring where he was going, trying to get away; from what, he was not sure, and did not want to find out. Thin tree branches whipped painfully against his face and arms and legs, and the increasing rain started to blur his vision.

As Harry sprinted, he felt that he could hear something running behind him, not far, but not near either. In the tired and cold state his body was, he slowed quickly, though he was trying so hard to run faster. Still, strangely, he was not attacked from behind.

He did not stop, however; he did not believe his mind was playing tricks on him. There was definitely something chasing him.

Lightening flashed, thunder boomed; Harry tripped. His glasses shot off his face.

He landed with a splat, face first into the muddy ground of the dense, unforgiving forest. He pushed himself up, but his struggle to get up as quickly as he could was cut short. His body non-moving, he squinted at the ground in front of him. His eyes widened, and his pupils dilated with fear. Two grey clawed paws were standing just in front of him. If you could call them paws – they looked close to human feet, and what emphasised the humanistic feel was the fact that, whatever this animal was, it was standing on its hind legs... 'A werewolf' Harry's mind whispered in shocking recognition.

Harry reluctantly looked up. His blurry vision only revealed a looming grey shape, and two glowing red eyes. He felt lucky that he could not see properly, to avoid the truly terrifying vision standing in front of him.

"Harry Potterrrrr," it hissed, gleefully.

Harry shivered, and not from the cold. "Who... who are you? What do y-you want from me?" he stammered, teeth chattering in fear.

"Your blood," it growled, quietly. Harry's breath hitched, and he immediately tried to sit up. The shape moved swiftly and suddenly, as if it were a ghost. Its clawed paws pushed Harry roughly, causing him to fall backwards and become trapped under the weight of the werewolf. Its sharp claws buried into Harry's shoulders, and he choked in sudden, delirious pain.

The wolf growled, "you are yet to find out the meaning of pain, Boy," it sounded darkly amused.

Harry tried to free himself from the clutches of the creature, but every movement was hellish pain. He felt breathless.

"Get off me!" he tried to yell, but it came out more of a whisper. He started kicking his legs anywhere he could. He hit a soft spot, and the wolf suddenly grunted in pain and doubled backwards, taking his claws with him. Ignoring the increased pain in his shoulders, and the wine red blood now seeping through his clothes, Harry saw his chance. He scrambled backwards and stood shakily, trying to run away while he was not yet upright. The wolf recovered quickly however; Harry had not yet taken three strides when it clawed at him from behind, dragging its claws through the skin on his back, as if it were butter.

Harry screamed in agony, and stumbled slightly. It was enough for the wolf to catch up completely. It kicked at Harry's legs, tripping him up harshly. Harry landed hard. He coughed, winded, and tried to move into the foetal position.

The wolf grabbed his arm, and flipped him over with so much strength that Harry felt his shoulder dislocate. The dark-haired boy screamed again, feeling dizzy with pain. He was struggling to breathe. The grey werewolf sat on its haunches, apparently pleased that Harry was in no state to escape again.

"Please make this easier by not running. I do not want to hurt you too much; you are not to die," Harry heard through the haze of pain and sudden tiredness that overwhelmed him.

His eyes were open, but they were unseeing. He was concentrating on staying conscious, trying to desperately conceive an escape, knowing it was futile.

The wolf put his grinning snout in Harry's face. Even without glasses, and with the creeping darkness of unconsciousness around his vision, Harry could see the sharp, still blood-covered yellow teeth in front of him.

'Poor squirrel didn't stand a chance,' he thought vaguely, remembering the poor animal's misfortune from earlier.

Harry lay brokenly, "what... what are you going to do to m-me...?" he struggled to ask. His voice came out as a weak whisper.

He heard a low, sinister laugh that sounded more like a menacing growl. "Why tell you, when I can just show you?"

Thunder boomed overhead. The werewolf poised to strike. In one swift movement, he lunged towards Harry, and crunched his pointed, yellowed teeth around his neck. Harry's mouth opened to scream, but he could not. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his world went black.

A/N: And here is chapter two! Hope you all enjoy reading it :) I will be taking a break over the weekend to write more chapters, and will be uploading again at the beginning of next week.

Thanks for the reviews so far!

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