Disclaimer: I own nuthing but plot. Isn't life unfair?
Notes: Whee! Werewolf fun! As always, review please! I like reviews. It makes for a happy authoress... (?) I'm not sure if Harry could really use the Floo system as a werewolf, but I don't see why not. He does talk very clearly, just in wolfish tongue.
~*~*~*~
Of Wolf and Man
~*~*~*~
Harry sat in Snape's cheerless apartments, homework done with footnotes and cross-referenced, and stared down at his hands, elbows on knees. The moon would be rising any moment now, and Snape had emerged from his seclusion in his bedchamber to wait with him. The potions master was reading a thick, leather-bound volume, ignoring the young werewolf before him. It was just as well. Harry didn't want to talk. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to be in full lycanthrope form but still aware of who he was and able to control himself.
Harry didn't have to ask the time. When the moon crested the horizon outside of the castle, he knew. It was like a whisper inside his head, an intuition that made him turn to the east as if he could see through walls.
Then the change began, and the all-too expected pain.
Whatever properties the Wolfsbane held, it did not stop the incredible pain of the transformation. Harry clutched at his guts, eyes watering. It seemed to be happening quicker this time. The fur rolled over his skin at the same time his hands arched into wicked claws and he could feel his teeth grow sharper. Within moments of white-hot agony, he opened his eyes and discovered that he was on the floor, and his glasses had been thrown a foot or so away. Snape was kneeling beside him, one hand on his shoulder.
Was that concern in his eyes?
"Potter, do you understand me?" Harry nodded his elongated head. "Good. Then the Wolfsbane worked as it should. I wasn't quite certain of the dosage for your body size." He nodded to himself and stood.
Oh. He was just concerned about the Wolfsbane working. Understandable and perfectly Snape-like, but...
He shook his head. He didn't want Snape to be concerned for him any more than he wanted Fred and George to be his personal chefs. Harry pulled himself to his feet, er, paws, and took stock of himself. His robes and clothes were once again in shreds, but his glasses and wand were in good shape, and he seemed fine. In fact, his vision was sharp and clear, if a little lacking in the color department, and attracted to motion.
His emerald eyes followed Snape as he bent and picked up Harry's glasses and wand, setting them safely on the mantle.
"These will be safe, but we're going to have to come up with a solution for the state of your clothing after you transform. I hardly want to see you naked every month," Snape said, watching Harry as he examined his surroundings in wolf form. Harry was small for a werewolf, but that was still larger than normal wolves, and had shaggy black fur and eerie green eyes. Just barely perceptible was the jagged scar on his forehead.
Harry sniffed the air. He could smell everything! The cotton stuffing of the sofa, the tanned leather covering it, the soap the house elves used to wash Snape's robes with, and the man himself smelled heavily of potions ingredients. His ears perked forward, catching the faint sound of Snape's heart and pulse.
Under it all there was still the beast. Harry could feel it, lying dormant, craving the blood of humans and the hunt. But the Gryffindor could control it, and almost ignore it, thanks to the foul concoction of Wolfsbane.
"I suggest you get some sleep, Potter. I am. Do not try to leave the apartments, as the door is locked." Without further comment, Snape retreated back to his lair, leaving Harry to watch the dying fire.
***
Harry guessed it was about half after eleven when he started trying to find a way out of the room. He scratched at the door, but it wouldn't open. He tried to open the door via the knob, but he didn't have the dexterity. He cast about helplessly, hoping for some mystic source of inspiration. He caught a glance of an urn by the fireplace and reared onto his hind legs to sniff it.
He sneezed a silvery powder all over the mantle and his face. His tail wagged in delight. Floo powder! But would he be able to communicate well enough to use it?
-It's worth a try. I'll sneak a peek into the Gryffindor common room. It can get out from there.- He placed a steadying paw on the bricks and stood up, looking down at the urn mounted to the fireplace. He flicked some out with his paw, putting a small amount on the floor. He leaned down and sniffed it again, sneezing the powder into the fire this time. The flames burned green and Harry attempted to say 'Gryffindor common room'.
It came out as a bark and a whine, but the flames remained green, so he poked his head into the fire and felt the familiar spinning sensation.
*
Ron nearly had a heart attack when he saw the head of a very big, very mean- looking wolf appear in the fire beside him. He scooted backwards until he bumped into a sofa when the wolf head bared its teeth at him. His eyes flickered to its forehead and saw a small patch of white fur shaped like a lightning bolt.
"H-Harry?" Ron squeaked. The wolf head whined happily. He wasn't snarling at Ron, he was grinning. It wasn't a very friendly-looking grin.
"What do you think you're doing, Harry?!" Ron hissed, crawling up to the edge of the fireplace, glaring at the Werewolf-Who-Lived. "What if someone else had been in here?!" The wolf looked around and, seeing no one else with Ron, walked out of the fire. Ron moved aside to give him room. Harry's tail wagged in a very doggish manner, and he sniffed Ron emphatically.
"Gerroff," Ron said, shoving Harry back, but his tone wasn't harsh. He stood up and looked at his friend. "Well, what are you doing here? Just feel like scaring the living daylights out of me?" Harry whined and trotted over to the portrait hole. He turned back to Ron and raised a paw, like waving farewell.
Then he left the dormitory and slunk off into the school. Ron shook his head. "He's nutters. Completely mad. Honestly..."
*
Harry bounded across the cool grass of Hogwart's grounds, feeling more free than he ever had in his life. His werewolf body was fast and strong. The cold air felt good rippling through his fur and the ground was firm and steady beneath his paws. From all corners came wonderful scents and smells and sounds that were so new to him. He let his tongue loll out of the side of his mouth as he ran towards the lake glistening ahead.
The moon was clear and bright overhead, illuminating everything to Harry's sensitive eyes. He reached the shore of the lake and began to trot around it, looking for Lupin.
He had moved about a quarter of a mile around the perimeter when another large wolf stepped out from behind a bush. Harry wagged his tail, approaching slowly. The other wolf's tail wagged, and Harry recognized it as another werewolf. It was a young male, though it's light brown fur was graying around the muzzle and tail. Harry whined and Lupin whined back, tail wagging once. Harry sprung up and tackled Lupin, then ran off towards the Dark Forest. He could hear Lupin close on his heels.
***
Snape entered his living room the next morning, finding Harry curled up on the couch, a spare blanket clutched to his lithe form. He snored contentedly, completely unaware that anything had changed. Snape nodded to himself and turned to the door to head to breakfast. He noticed something from the corner of his eye and went over to examine it.
-That's odd,- he thought to himself. -How did the Floo powder spill onto the floor?-
Snape finally just shook his head and left.
When the door closed, Harry propped himself up on his elbow and checked to make sure Snape was really gone. He grinned and lay back down, slipping into sleep.
~*~*~*~
AN: Harry's a cute li'l werewolf when he takes his Wolfsbane.
Notes: Whee! Werewolf fun! As always, review please! I like reviews. It makes for a happy authoress... (?) I'm not sure if Harry could really use the Floo system as a werewolf, but I don't see why not. He does talk very clearly, just in wolfish tongue.
~*~*~*~
Of Wolf and Man
~*~*~*~
Harry sat in Snape's cheerless apartments, homework done with footnotes and cross-referenced, and stared down at his hands, elbows on knees. The moon would be rising any moment now, and Snape had emerged from his seclusion in his bedchamber to wait with him. The potions master was reading a thick, leather-bound volume, ignoring the young werewolf before him. It was just as well. Harry didn't want to talk. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to be in full lycanthrope form but still aware of who he was and able to control himself.
Harry didn't have to ask the time. When the moon crested the horizon outside of the castle, he knew. It was like a whisper inside his head, an intuition that made him turn to the east as if he could see through walls.
Then the change began, and the all-too expected pain.
Whatever properties the Wolfsbane held, it did not stop the incredible pain of the transformation. Harry clutched at his guts, eyes watering. It seemed to be happening quicker this time. The fur rolled over his skin at the same time his hands arched into wicked claws and he could feel his teeth grow sharper. Within moments of white-hot agony, he opened his eyes and discovered that he was on the floor, and his glasses had been thrown a foot or so away. Snape was kneeling beside him, one hand on his shoulder.
Was that concern in his eyes?
"Potter, do you understand me?" Harry nodded his elongated head. "Good. Then the Wolfsbane worked as it should. I wasn't quite certain of the dosage for your body size." He nodded to himself and stood.
Oh. He was just concerned about the Wolfsbane working. Understandable and perfectly Snape-like, but...
He shook his head. He didn't want Snape to be concerned for him any more than he wanted Fred and George to be his personal chefs. Harry pulled himself to his feet, er, paws, and took stock of himself. His robes and clothes were once again in shreds, but his glasses and wand were in good shape, and he seemed fine. In fact, his vision was sharp and clear, if a little lacking in the color department, and attracted to motion.
His emerald eyes followed Snape as he bent and picked up Harry's glasses and wand, setting them safely on the mantle.
"These will be safe, but we're going to have to come up with a solution for the state of your clothing after you transform. I hardly want to see you naked every month," Snape said, watching Harry as he examined his surroundings in wolf form. Harry was small for a werewolf, but that was still larger than normal wolves, and had shaggy black fur and eerie green eyes. Just barely perceptible was the jagged scar on his forehead.
Harry sniffed the air. He could smell everything! The cotton stuffing of the sofa, the tanned leather covering it, the soap the house elves used to wash Snape's robes with, and the man himself smelled heavily of potions ingredients. His ears perked forward, catching the faint sound of Snape's heart and pulse.
Under it all there was still the beast. Harry could feel it, lying dormant, craving the blood of humans and the hunt. But the Gryffindor could control it, and almost ignore it, thanks to the foul concoction of Wolfsbane.
"I suggest you get some sleep, Potter. I am. Do not try to leave the apartments, as the door is locked." Without further comment, Snape retreated back to his lair, leaving Harry to watch the dying fire.
***
Harry guessed it was about half after eleven when he started trying to find a way out of the room. He scratched at the door, but it wouldn't open. He tried to open the door via the knob, but he didn't have the dexterity. He cast about helplessly, hoping for some mystic source of inspiration. He caught a glance of an urn by the fireplace and reared onto his hind legs to sniff it.
He sneezed a silvery powder all over the mantle and his face. His tail wagged in delight. Floo powder! But would he be able to communicate well enough to use it?
-It's worth a try. I'll sneak a peek into the Gryffindor common room. It can get out from there.- He placed a steadying paw on the bricks and stood up, looking down at the urn mounted to the fireplace. He flicked some out with his paw, putting a small amount on the floor. He leaned down and sniffed it again, sneezing the powder into the fire this time. The flames burned green and Harry attempted to say 'Gryffindor common room'.
It came out as a bark and a whine, but the flames remained green, so he poked his head into the fire and felt the familiar spinning sensation.
*
Ron nearly had a heart attack when he saw the head of a very big, very mean- looking wolf appear in the fire beside him. He scooted backwards until he bumped into a sofa when the wolf head bared its teeth at him. His eyes flickered to its forehead and saw a small patch of white fur shaped like a lightning bolt.
"H-Harry?" Ron squeaked. The wolf head whined happily. He wasn't snarling at Ron, he was grinning. It wasn't a very friendly-looking grin.
"What do you think you're doing, Harry?!" Ron hissed, crawling up to the edge of the fireplace, glaring at the Werewolf-Who-Lived. "What if someone else had been in here?!" The wolf looked around and, seeing no one else with Ron, walked out of the fire. Ron moved aside to give him room. Harry's tail wagged in a very doggish manner, and he sniffed Ron emphatically.
"Gerroff," Ron said, shoving Harry back, but his tone wasn't harsh. He stood up and looked at his friend. "Well, what are you doing here? Just feel like scaring the living daylights out of me?" Harry whined and trotted over to the portrait hole. He turned back to Ron and raised a paw, like waving farewell.
Then he left the dormitory and slunk off into the school. Ron shook his head. "He's nutters. Completely mad. Honestly..."
*
Harry bounded across the cool grass of Hogwart's grounds, feeling more free than he ever had in his life. His werewolf body was fast and strong. The cold air felt good rippling through his fur and the ground was firm and steady beneath his paws. From all corners came wonderful scents and smells and sounds that were so new to him. He let his tongue loll out of the side of his mouth as he ran towards the lake glistening ahead.
The moon was clear and bright overhead, illuminating everything to Harry's sensitive eyes. He reached the shore of the lake and began to trot around it, looking for Lupin.
He had moved about a quarter of a mile around the perimeter when another large wolf stepped out from behind a bush. Harry wagged his tail, approaching slowly. The other wolf's tail wagged, and Harry recognized it as another werewolf. It was a young male, though it's light brown fur was graying around the muzzle and tail. Harry whined and Lupin whined back, tail wagging once. Harry sprung up and tackled Lupin, then ran off towards the Dark Forest. He could hear Lupin close on his heels.
***
Snape entered his living room the next morning, finding Harry curled up on the couch, a spare blanket clutched to his lithe form. He snored contentedly, completely unaware that anything had changed. Snape nodded to himself and turned to the door to head to breakfast. He noticed something from the corner of his eye and went over to examine it.
-That's odd,- he thought to himself. -How did the Floo powder spill onto the floor?-
Snape finally just shook his head and left.
When the door closed, Harry propped himself up on his elbow and checked to make sure Snape was really gone. He grinned and lay back down, slipping into sleep.
~*~*~*~
AN: Harry's a cute li'l werewolf when he takes his Wolfsbane.