Nothing stays the Same
While it was true that Harry's home life had never been perfect, he never imagined that monsters came in many different forms. It was just after his sixth year at Hogwarts, which had been as calm as the events before a storm. Everyone waited in fearful excitement for what they knew was coming. Voldemort's attacks were few and far apart. He struck randomly, enjoying the confusion that histactics made with the ministry and their forces. He was waiting his time and gathering his forces for the final battle that would decide the future of, not only the magical world, but the muggle world as it was known. Tired of seeing his godfathers, Sirius and Remus, worrying about him constantly, Harry had vowed to as much fun as possible. Who cared what others thought, he was going to have to do battle with the most feared person in history and he deserved to have fun.
It had started off as small things, like going out and getting drunk or dancing all night long. But soon Harry became restless with that lifestyle and sought to change the way people perceived him. He wanted an image, one not only shocking but hopeful as well. In his mind it was like who would trust their lives in the hands of some gangly looking teenager with untameable hair? No one in their right mind would. So he had changed himself. Leather, earring in his right ear, long black hair and a very large tattoo of a dragon on his back were all the things he did to state that he was a badass and that old voldie was going down. Of course he managed to keep it all glamoured over until he got home, he had hope that it would put some fear into his relatives, but that wasn't the case.
The beating weren't new but still there was something hidden in those hits that he received from his uncle. Something more that abuse was flashing through his mind. But Harry couldn't make out what they were, not until it was too late.
It was midnight when it started. Harry had been dreaming in a restless state of unconsciousness when he had felt hands sharply twisting him into an uncomfortable position. He wasn't even really awake when his uncle had penetrated him. The pain was excruciating and humiliating. His mind couldn't process what was going on. It wasn't until morning when he felt the soreness in body and saw the blood on the sheets that he realized what exactly had happened.
Rape was never a word Harry had to consider before, but now it was all that plagued his mind. It made sense; those feelings that were behind the beatings that he had received from Vernon on so many occasions had been lust. Harry was more attractive in his new state than he had imagined. His tears flooded his pillow that night as he waited for it to happen once again. For over seven weeks it happened again and again, tearing him apart. He couldn't stop it; he would be the boy-who-lived-to-be-broken-by-a-muggle. But as always things aren't always as they seem.
On the night of his eighteenth birthday he waited. It was like a coming of age thing for wizards and witches, when they reached their eighteenth year they would receive something special. For most, like Ron and Hermione, that special gift was the enhancement of their mind. They were able to retain more knowledge than ever before. But Harry knew that something would be different for him. It always was. That night, just at midnight, pain coursed through his body. It stretched his bones and seeped into his blood stream knocking him unconscious. When he awoke a few hours later he found every one of his senses heightened and stronger than ever before. But what caught his attention was his thirst. It wasn't just any thirst, no; it was a thirst for blood. And the first victim of this craving was to be a man he despised like no other.
Vernon never came at specific times, it was a way to keep Harry guessing and frightened. So far it had worked, but tonight Harry was waiting for him. He waited for his uncle to place the first touch and then he struck. His fangs punctured the side of Vernon's neck and drew from him the very essence that Harry needed now to survive. Before he could kill him, regained his senses and pulled back. Vernon, although weak and dizzy, pulled himself up in fear and ran from the room. In the morning Harry would awaken to an empty house filled with nothing but useless items.
To say he was shocked would be an understatement. He had known something would happen, but nothing like this had been perceived. Restless and confused he searched his books of defence until he came across his third year set. The knowledge of Vampires contained within those pages was limited. It only told a few things such as that contrary to popular belief vampires could go out in sun light. But other than that there was nothing useful. He needed to go to a better source. And with that he knew that he needed to go to Remus Lupin. So he waited for night to come. The ability to fly with wings had been one of the perks of his condition. He was well aware that he needed to be careful so he would use the cover of night to hide within.
When he finally located Remus's house he noticed that it was quite empty but before he could explore the fact that no one was there he heard a sound off in the distance, the howl of a werewolf.
