A/N: First attempt at horror fic. Please be kind in your reviews. Or I shan't forgive you!

Disclaimer: Anything from the Harry Potter books belong to JK Rowling.

Harry's hands swung up to his face and his eyes snapped shut. The creature leapt on top of him and they both fell to the ground, it on top of him. It snarled ferociously, its hot, putrid breath burning Harry's nostrils, and its mucky drool dripped onto Harry's cheek.

            Wildly, Harry flung out his hands and grabbed the creature's snout. It let go of Harry in surprise and rolled over. Harry stood up quickly, trying to ignore the intensifying pain in his left ankle. The creature attacked again, seizing his right foot in its strong jaws, its razor sharp teeth digging into Harry's flesh.

            "ARGH!" Harry screamed in agony as he collapsed onto the ground, his hands thrashing madly in the air, trying desperately to push the creature away, scratching its face, and punching angrily. It reacted by gripping Harry's foot harder, grinding its teeth deep into the flesh. Blood was everywhere. In the commotion, Harry thought he heard his glasses shatter as they flew off his nose and onto the ground.

            Harry collapsed, shaking violently, his vision blurring. Pain. His right foot was burning. His left ankle felt strangely numb. There was an odd buzzing in his ears. He was breathing heavily, his heart thumping wildly against his ribs, his hands trembling. So painful. Throbbing, pounding, burning pain.

            Suddenly, he realised that the creature had finally let go of his foot. It was now circling Harry, its blood-red eyes staring at him, eyeing him cautiously, and pondering whether Harry should be its dinner or supper. He growled fiercely, showing its enormous fangs, spit flying at Harry's face. Its fur was standing on end, making it look like a giant porcupine.

            'Werewolf…' Harry thought to himself, his pulse increasing noticeably. Suddenly, he could feel sweat all over his body. So hot. So stuffy. He could hardly breathe. It felt like after a shower, when the air in the bathroom was damp and moist. So hot.

             'No!' Reality hit him. If that was a werewolf…and it had bitten him…then he was…

            'But who cares?' he thought bitterly. He was going to die anyway.

            It was very dark. Not to mention, he had lost his glasses. The wolf's eyes were glowing in the darkness, like two red fireflies. Harry felt his robes for his wand, but couldn't find it. The wolf seemed to sense that he was doing something worthy of its suspicion because it barked.

            "Oh bloody…" Harry muttered to himself. He was a sitting duck. Any moment, the wolf would spring and gobble him up. So this was the end. Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, who had survived encounters with Lord Voldemort, would die at the hands (or paws) of a werewolf.

            A hollow laugh escaped Harry's throat. The wolf's growling grew louder. It crouched, and got ready to pounce. So he was going to be dinner after all.

            "Hold on…" Harry muttered. "S'not full moon…" Remus had said that he would be indisposed next week! So, it wasn't a werewolf.

            Harry squinted at the creature in the darkness. Actually, it didn't look like a werewolf at all. Harry would know. He saw Remus at the end of his third year. This creature was bigger. Its fur was shaggy, and its snout looked like the snout of any other ordinary wolf. A werewolf's snout was thinner.

            "Great. Here I am about to die, and I'm being Hermione," Harry murmured to himself, glancing down at his feet.
            "YEEEEOOOOWWCH!"

            Harry's head snapped up at the ear-piercing screech. The next second, he was backing away very quickly, his eyes wide with shock.

            There was now a hole in the canopy, and moonlight streamed in. Outlined against the silvery light were not one, but two giant wolves, leaping at each other's throat, snarling and growling, fur and blood splattered everywhere. It looked as if another wolf was jealous of the first wolf's dinner and had decided to drop in literally to see if it could have any share of it. But the first wolf wouldn't allow it and a fight had started.

            Harry crept away as fast as he could, trying not to make a sound. He had gone about two yards or so when one of the wolves smelt him running away and both of them came bounding through the bushes, right at him. Harry shielded his eyes with his hands and braced himself for the impact…but it never came.

            After about thirty seconds or so, Harry opened his eyes slowly. They were gone! Both of them! Harry glanced around cautiously, but they were gone! Not a sign or sound of them! Only their rotting breath lingered in the air.

            Harry let out his breath with a whoosh. He had never been so relieved in his life. When he had escaped from Voldemort a month ago, everything was fantasy-like and he couldn't think properly to be relieved.

            But this was so real. His right foot was burning like hell and he was sweating his insides out. He collapsed onto the ground, and lay there for a moment, thanking God that he was alive. Then, he tried to crawl back to Hogwarts. He was sure that no curse hurt as much as this. He stopped about every ten seconds, doubling up in pain, gripping his foot, and willing the sting to go away.

             As he stopped for the eleventh time, he suddenly realised that the shadows were flickering oddly. Like someone was running through the trees. He crouched up like a prawn, his hands still on his bloody foot, and edged into the bushes behind him. Clutching his foot tightly, he bit his lip trying not to scream in pain.

            The shadows flickered more, this time like a candle flame in the wind. One moment the tree shadows were straight, the next second, they were crooked. Now, they were twirling, stretching out to him, and then backing away playfully. His eyes fluttered shut. He felt very sick. Who was this who was playing these games with him? Who wanted to torture him so much? Put him through so much pain?

            His mind was spinning, and it was almost surreal when he heard footsteps. Light ones. Quick like a fairy. Then, loud, heavy ones. A muddle of irregular ones, and slow marching. The footsteps got louder and louder. Playing in his head. Echoing off the trees. Louder and louder. Jumbling up his thoughts, making him mad. His hands flew up to his ears, trying to block out the sound but it just got louder. He couldn't stand it anymore! He screamed.

            The louder he screamed, the louder the footsteps got. He was hearing them everywhere, all around him, in his head. He could feel the ground trembling. Then, in the midst of the muddle of footsteps, clear horse's footsteps sounded. Galloping, coming nearer and nearer. Harry screamed yet again.

            "Harry!" A man's voice sounded. Harry's eyes snapped open. It was a centaur. Firenze!

            "Firenze…" Before he could say anything else though, Firenze disappeared. "Firenze…help…" he whispered weakly, his hoarse voice echoing off the trees.

            The footsteps had stopped and the shadows were still once again.

            "This is just the beginning, Harry Potter…" he heard someone hiss in his ear.

A cold, cruel chuckle and then, silence.

A/N: I had no idea writing scary stories were so…scary. Even if the story isn't scary at all. Anyway, review!