Quite a few of you have expressed interest in reading this part, hope it lives up to expectations! Sorry about the double post. Please review!
*******
All too soon it was the night of the full moon.
Harry was shaking as he got up from his armchair by the fire. Hermione looked up at him curiously.
"Where are you going?" she asked. Harry took a deep breath and prepared to deliver his carefully planned lie.
"To the hospital wing," he said with forced casualness. "I'm not feeling great."
"Are you Ok? Do you want one of us to come with you?" Ron was looking up now, concerned.
"No," Harry said quickly. He forced a grin. "It's probably nothing." Ron nodded.
"Ok," he said. Hermione echoed him.
Harry felt a twisting in his stomach as he pushed his way across the crowded common room. He hated lying to them… But he wasn't sure that he could bring himself to tell them the truth. Harry clambered awkwardly through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady, who was gossiping happily with her friend Violet didn't even noticed as he pushed past them.
Harry made his way hurriedly through the dark, silent Hogwarts corridors. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him by the doors leading to the grounds.
"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked kindly, but her eyes were worried. Harry nodded jerkily. A fine trembling had taken over his body. "Come on then," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. She put a hand on his shoulder and guided him quickly across the grounds. Harry looked up at the sky. It was just growing dark, the first stars coming out though the moon was not yet visible.
He could feel it, though. He had felt it all week as it waxed larger and larger. Now, it was an ominous presence at his back. They had reached the Whomping Willow Harry watched as the long branches flailed at the air. He glanced sideways at Madam Pomfrey as she picked up a long branch and jabbed the knot on the trunk. The Willow froze in mid potion. Harry was shaking again, staring at the gap in the Willows roots. He jumped as Madam Pomfrey set her hand on his shoulder and turned to stare at her, almost pleadingly.
The look in Madam Pomfrey's eyes was pitying as she gently guided Harry down into the tunnel. Harry felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he stumbled along the passage. Madam Pomfrey's hand between his shoulder blades was about all that was keeping him from bolting.
At last they reached the end of the passage and the trapdoor up to the Shrieking Shack. Shakily, Harry slipped off his robes, handing them to Madam Pomfrey. Underneath he wore some of his oldest Muggle clothes, ones it would not matter if they were destroyed. Madam Pomfrey took his robes from him, and then helped him pull himself up through the trapdoor. Harry was shaking so badly he would not have managed on his own. At last he was kneeling by the opening, Madam Pomfrey's concerned face staring up at him.
"I'll come back for you tomorrow morning to- to take you back up to the school," she told him quietly. Harry nodded stiffly. He knew what she had been going to say; to heal his self inflicted wounds. She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something, and then closed the trapdoor. The drawing of the bolts sounded like a death knell to Harry. He was shaking even more violently now. He hugged himself, eyes darting frantically around the shack, taking in the wreaked furniture, the score marks in the floor and walls. He remembered meeting Sirius hear, still believing him to be a murderer, remembered the way Lupin had looked around the Shack…
Harry swallowed hard and then threw back his head, listening. He could feel the moon rising, feel the first pulls on something deep within him.
"No," Harry whispered, "No!" he screamed as the first moonlight penetrated the cracks in the Shacks walls. He sank to his knees, breathing heavily, shakily trying to control the overwhelming pain emanating from with in him. He screamed again, feeling as if he was being torn in two. The pain was excruciating, worse then the Cruciatus Curse and Harry collapsed to the floor, body writhing in convulsions. No no no no Harry chanted silently to himself as another scream was ripped from his mouth. The darkness that had been growing within his burst forth and then… he felt his skin tearing and he screamed, felt his bones twist and crack as they reshaped himself, he was panting, too wrapped up in the Change to scream anymore… too overwhelmed. Tears streamed down his cheeks even as his head twisted, his face shot out in a muzzle as his teeth sharpened and he flung back his head and howled. Harry felt his mind slipping away, tried to hold onto it, tried to fight the pull, but it was gone, his sanity, his humanity, and then he lost even the knowledge of that loss as he rose to pace back and forth, a Wolf.
The Wolf's nose flared, scenting. Humans! The Wolf flung itself at the wall, seeking, searching. He crashed into the wall, and heard the howls of the wolf pack in the forest. His ears pricked, the urge to join them strong. He paced the Shack, snarling at the smell of humans that remained within it, at the warm smells of them without. With a howl the Wolf flung itself at the walls again, seeking escape. When they did not yield the Wolf attacked the furniture, ripping it into pieces. He snarled in frustration, leaping at the walls as the unattainable scent of humans slowly drove him insane and he turned on himself, biting and scratching his own body in an attempt to satisfy his unfulfilled urgings. He didn't even register the pain he was inflicting on himself as he howled his anger and hatred at the humans and took it out on himself. As the moon rode high in the night sky, driving him to this madness.
The moon sank slowly under the horizon and the Wolf collapsed to the floor, panting, bleeding in many places, his pelt matted with his own blood. And as the moon slipped away, its influence withdrawing the wolf howled pain, as his body once more shifted, changing back into human form.
For just a few seconds it was wonderful. Harry felt like a newborn, if you could be born with a mind aware of that fact, and then the pain set in and he gasped out loud. He curled himself up into a foetal position, not even registering his nakedness as he bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. Tears of humiliation slid down his cheeks as memories returned to him, crystal clear of the night, of the wolfs animalistic urgings. He could remember exactly the desire to hunt, to kill. Harry's body shook with suppressed sobs and pain.
The sound of the bolts drawing back made Harry start up. He watched as Madam Pomfrey hauled herself up, then for the first time realising his nakedness he curled up, wincing, as he pulled on his wounds.
Madam Pomfrey looked around the Shack than spotted him. Her eyes wavered somewhere between compassion and horror.
"Here you are, Harry," she said quietly, handing him a long cloak. Harry took it quickly and wrapped it around himself, wincing as the material brushed against his open wounds. "Come on then," Madam Pomfrey said, helping him up. Harry stumbled, only just registering how exhausted he was. Madam Pomfrey caught him quickly. She must have had a lot of practice with Remus Harry thought wearily as she helped him down through the trapdoor, and then along the passageway.
As they emerged into the early morning sunlight, Harry winced and squinted. Madam Pomfrey slipped her hand inside her robes and drew out his glasses, handing them to him. Harry took them silently and put them on. He didn't trust his voice enough to speak to say thank you.
Madam Pomfrey wrapped his arm around him and helped him to stand upright and walk forward. Harry was grateful for that, even if it did aggravate his wounds. He thought it most likely that he would have collapsed from exhaustion if she hadn't.
"Just up to the hospital wing, Harry," Madam Pomfrey told him encouragingly. "Then you can sleep all day." Harry nodded silently, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. It seemed to take a painful forever to get up there, but even so it came almost as a surprise when the reached the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey helped Harry inside then settled him down on one of the beds. He was the only one in the hospital wing, luckily.
"Just hold still," Madam Pomfrey told him quietly. Gently she poked each wound with her wand, healing the damage down to the skin and flesh. The pain remained though, a deep-seated ache. "The pain will fade," Madam Pomfrey told him. "Just sleep for now." Harry allowed her to help him into bed, but the shock was wearing off now and he had started crying again, silently. Madam Pomfrey was stroking his hair gently. "Just sleep Harry," she told him softly, "Just sleep." And even if he had wanted to, Harry couldn't have stayed awake.
********
