Hey everyone! I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but life just got in the way. I'm hoping, however, to start updating more frequently and really get this story going. This is another somewhat short chapter, but its definitely my longest one yet! So I hope you like that. It's a bit of a filler, and time has really passed by since the beginning of the story. However, it does explain a bit of what life in magical America is like for Harry, as opposed to how it could have been in Britain. It also explains a little more about how him being a werewolf has adapted to his body. Oh, and just so you know, werewolves of the HP universe look pretty...sad. If you've ever seen the movie Van Helsing with Hugh Jackman, think that kind of werewolf. Massive, furry, muscular and powerful. Not skinny, hairless, and frail. That's what werewolves in my story look like. Ok, well that's it for now. Enjoy!

*EDIT* - Added an extra little scene at the end. Not entirely important but was starting the next chapter and decided it belonged in this chapter rather than the next.

Chapter 3

"Harry James Potter! Get up this instant, or you'll be late for school!"

"Five more minutes," groaned Harry, pulling the covers over his head. Suddenly, he found himself being thrown onto the floor as Remus flung open his door and stormed in, yanking the blankets from beneath him. "Oomph!"

"No, not five more minutes! This minute!" said Remus, placing his hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently. "Oh, don't you growl at me mister! You may be a more powerful werewolf than I am, but I am still your senior by many years! So don't play alpha-male with me young man!"

Harry continued his growling as he gathered his clothes, shooting his uncle an annoyed glare every now and then before heading into the bathroom to shower. After a quick rinse, he stepped out of the shower and dried off, wrapping his towel around his waist. As he brushed his teeth, he looked himself over in the mirror. For a ten year old boy, he was a bit on the tall side, standing at about 4'10 and his body was more defined for someone as young as he was. He most certainly wasn't muscular, as his body hadn't developed that much yet, but he was lean and healthily toned. His hair was dark black and cut short, as was the policy for his school. But even scissors were no match for genetics, as the upper parts of his hair stuck up without the aid of hair products or magic. His eyes were a brilliant green, inherited from his equally brilliant mother, and he was glad he didn't have glasses to cover them up.

"Are you done yet?" asked Remus through the door, knocking loudly to get his attention.

Spitting out the foamy toothpaste, Harry rinsed his mouth and replied, "Almost! I just need to get into my uniform!"

"Well hurry up! Your uncle Sirius has made you oatmeal and it'll get lumpy if you don't eat it while it's warm!"

"Okay, okay! I'm almost done!" Dropping the towel around his waist, he pulled on a pair of boxers and khaki pants. Slipping on a white dress shirt, he buttoned it up and tucked it into his pants before zipping up and sliding a belt through the loops. Opening the door, he rolled his eyes as Remus continued to nag him. Going to his closet, he took a black vest off the hanger and pulled it over his shirt.

"Socks, Harry! You forgot to put on socks!" reminded the older male, tossing him a rolled up pair.

"I know, I've got it covered," Harry answered, pulling the socks onto his feet before slipping into a pair of black and white sneakers. "See, I'm all ready!"

"Okay, now go eat your breakfast," Remus ordered, finally leaving the room. "Your bus will be here in fifteen minutes, and you've still got to walk to the stop."

"Stop worrying so much Uncle Moony." Following Remus out, Harry launched himself over the railing, landing in a crouch on the ground floor. He smirked at the older werewolf, who had just made his way down the stairs. "I know, I know. 'Use the stairs! That's what they're made for!'" he said, mimicking his uncle. "But my body was made to be stronger and faster than normal humans. That's what I'm made for. Stairs are so ordinary!"

Remus just shook his head and walked off, muttering to himself about uncontrollable werewolf pre-teens. Harry smiled to himself and wandered into the kitchen, the smell of food enticing him to sit down. Sitting on a stool at the island-counter, he pulled a giant bowl of oatmeal towards himself and immediately dug in. Sirius, who was at the stove, shook his head and laughed.

"I swear, you're a bottomless pit," he said, flipping bacon on the pan he was cooking from. "And since I know you can't go a meal without some sort of meat, I made a few strips of bacon for you."

"Extra thick?" asked Harry, mouth full of food.

"Extra thick," confirmed Sirius, as he began plating the bacon. Sliding the plate towards Harry, he leaned back against the counter and sipped from a mug of coffee while he watched his godson eat. The years had passed quickly, and he couldn't believe just how big the boy had gotten over time. It seemed just like yesterday that he was holding baby Harry in his arms for the first time and now he was growing into a fine young man. As they had predicted, his lycanthropy had been somewhat of a blessing rather than a curse, though Harry's playful and mischievous nature liked to take advantage of it. Except for nights on the full moon, Harry was able to fully control his transformations and could turn at will. Even then, he was able to keep his mind and self-control (for the most part that is), without the aid of Wolfsbane potion. He'd also gained what some would call "superhuman abilities," as his physical strength and speed, along with his five senses were enhanced. He was no "Superman" but he was certainly able to do things no normal human being, magical or muggle alike could do.

"That was great, thanks Sirius!" said Harry gratefully, pushing his empty plate and bowl away. Glancing at the clock, he jumped down from his chair and grabbed his backpack, which was sitting on the floor by the door. "Hm, now where did I put my—aha, there it is!" Pulling out his wand from the front pocket, he gave it an affectionate twirl and stuck it into its holster, which was attached to his belt. There was no age restriction on magic in America, as long as children under 16 did it in the supervision of an adult and/or out of sight of muggles. The wand he had purchased on a vacation to Britain, at Ollivander's, the same place his family had received their wands for generations.

"Time to get a move on, Harry!" said Sirius, opening the front door. "You've got five minutes to make it to the stop. Think you can get there on time? Or do you want me or Remus to apparate you there?"

"No, I've got it," replied Harry, securing his bag. With a grin and a small salute, he ran out the door. Jumping off the front porch, he cast a notice-me-not charm and transformed into his werewolf form, landing on all fours. Letting out a happy howl, he raced down the street and out of sight in seconds.

"Hey, Harry! Over here!"

Stepping onto the school bus, Harry turned in the direction of the voice and followed it to the back where his group of friends usually sat. Grinning at each of them, he took his seat and placed his bag on the floor between his legs. "So, did you guys finish last night's math worksheet?" he asked.

"Of course. I wouldn't have been allowed to go to karate class if I hadn't," replied the boy sitting next to him. His name was Michael "Mike" Wu, and Harry hated to stereotype, but the boy was a perfect example of Asian ancestry. He wasn't exactly short, and the men in his family grew to be around 6' foot, but at the present time, one would not call him…tall. His short black hair was combed neatly, and the wire-rimmed glasses he wore made his thin face look even smaller. He was nothing short of genius, and was a bit of pushover when it came to schoolwork, but he was a loyal friend and loads of fun; that is, if whenever mother allowed him to hang out.

"What about you Jen?" asked Harry teasingly, leaning across the walkway to nudge her playfully. "Did you manage to put the game controller down and finish your work?" The girl in question stuck her tongue out at him and turned away, flipping her blonde hair at him in an annoyed fashion. She was far from the typical girl, and was more of a tomboy than anything. But who could blame her, growing up with three brothers?

"She kept at it all night Harry," said Bradley, Jen's twin and "older" brother.

"For your information, Mr. Potter," she started, straightening out her skirt before pulling her bag into her lap. "I finished it in last period, during Mrs. White's horrendously boring presentation on the importance of art and literature. See for yourself."

"Well, thank you Ms. Thompson," he answered, taking the thick worksheet from her as he pulled out a pencil and his own homework. "I believe I just tricked you into letting me copy your work!"

"What! Harry, that's cheating!" she cried, launching herself across the bus at him.

Harry laughed and handed back the paperwork, putting his own back into his bag. "I'm just kidding Jen! Don't get so wound up. I already did it and had Uncle Remus look it over."

"Jerk!" she said, hitting him on the shoulder.

"Hey, you kids back there!" shouted the bus driver, looking at them through the mirror. "Sit down and stay still. We're just about to hit the transport point!"

"Ah, my favorite part of the day!" said Bradley sarcastically, scooting further down into his seat. "I hate taking the bus. I wish I could just live at school and not have to worry about portkeying there and back every day!"

"Well, we live close enough to school that there's no point," replied Jen, rubbing his back soothingly. "I know you get a bit sick when we do this, but you'll get used to it eventually. Just hold my hand and close your eyes; he just activated the switch."

The twins clasped hands just in time as a second later they were being pulled forward by an invisible hook. Only a moment later the tugging sensation stopped and the bus engine roared loudly before dying down, signifying the end of their trip. Students began to stand up and grab their things, making their way to the exit. Knowing it would be impossible to make it through the large crowd, the four friends hung back and waited for the bus to empty before getting out.

"Another wonderful day at school," said Harry, grinning as he looked around. Their school, George Washington's Academy for Wizards & Witches, was a large, modern-built campus located on a secret island somewhere off the coast in California, where magic could be practiced freely without interfering with muggles and their devices. The campus itself was divided into four large main buildings, with a separate building for administration, for the library, and another large building closer to the shoreline where they had gym. Further inland were a few smaller buildings, which served as dorm rooms to house out-of-state students during the school year. Students who lived in-state were picked up and dropped off daily by buses that were also portkeys.

Magical schools in America were different than their European counterparts and served as "K-12" where students studied not only magic, but were put through muggle schooling as well. Not only did it educate students on the muggle world, it allowed squibs to get a full education to get into a muggle college later while still keeping them involved with the wizarding world. Ten and eleven were the ages most students really started showing potential for magic, and so until about fifth grade it was mostly pure-blood and half-blood students. They of course learned the basics of spell-work and potions, and studied magical history as well, but up until they were older, it was mostly muggle education for them. Some students complained about not learning enough about magic in their earlier years, but Harry was just fine with it. He had his own "special lessons" at home with his uncles anyway.

American schools, along with the American magical community, were also completely caught up to the 20th century and had adapted muggle inventions to be used with magic. Things like light bulbs, cars, gizmos and gadgets were all converted to be powered by magic, thanks to many ingenious, hard-working rune and arithmancy practitioners. And while magical potions and healing spells worked much more effectively than pills and drugs, Healers used procedures such as organ transplants and heart resuscitation to fix things that magic could not. And their banks, which were also ran by goblins, had debit cards that were accepted in both the magical and muggle world, which made purchases much easier. All in all, America seemed to be further advanced than the British, who were still stuck in the dark ages.

"I need to grab a few things from my locker, so I'll see you guys in class," said Bradley suddenly, taking off in the direction of locker.

"All right, see you!"

The remaining three made their way to first period and took their usual seats in the back of the classroom, Jen placing her bag in the chair next to her to save the spot for her brother. A few minutes later he joined them just as class was starting.

"Good morning class," said their homeroom teacher, Mr. Fox, as he stood up from his chair. "Before we begin, we'll state the pledge of allegiance and take roll. You all know the drill; please stand."

Placing their hands over their hearts, the students in class and all around school spoke almost as one as they began their daily rituals. "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America…"

"That's new," said Mike, as the three boys changed in the locker room for PE class. Jen, of course, was with the girls in their separate room.

"Huh? You mean this?" asked Harry, looking down at the still-healing scar on his side.

"Yeah," nodded the other boy. "Rough night on Saturday?" They all knew he was referring to the night of the full moon. His friends, along with just about everyone else at school, knew of his lycanthropy, though only Mike, Bradley, and Jen knew the full extent of it. Children like him were not persecuted, and the school even encouraged everyone to share their experiences with others so as not to build distrust between them. Harry was the only werewolf in the school, but he knew of a vampire in the upper classes, and he had come across several other half-breeds in the school, like their Varsity basketball captain who was half-giant.

"Uncle Remus and I got into a fight," he explained, pulling on his swimming trunks. "I still keep control over my mind, and am consciously aware of things—and so does he with the help of the potion—but it seems that now I'm getting older, our wolves are starting to fight for dominance. We messed up the room pretty badly, and uncle Sirius said the wards keeping us in almost broke. We're probably going to have to stay in separate places once I'm older or else we'll end up tearing each other apart."

"I don't think I could ever go through what you do," said Bradley, shaking his head. "You've got some cool abilities, but to lose control of myself like that…I don't think I'd be able to handle that."

Harry shrugged as he grabbed his towel and walked out of the locker room. "It's who I am," he replied. "And even though I wish I was just another normal boy sometimes, I've come to accept that I'm not. The most I can do is take advantage of what's been given to me, and deal the best I can with the things that are out of my control. Oh, look there's Jen!"

"Took you guys long enough," she said, waving them over. "I swear you all take longer than me, and I'm a girl!"

"Yeah, yeah," said Mike, crossing his arms. "Well, there's three of us and one of you."

"Pft excuses," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Now c'mon! Coach Moore said we need to swim to the buoy and back five times before we can play around."

Harry grinned and began running towards the beach, where several other students were already beginning their laps. "Last one to finish is a rotten egg!" he cried, jumping into the salty water.

"No fair!" shouted Bradley. "You always beat us!"

"Well, last one to finish besides Harry is a rotten egg then!" yelled Jen with a smirk, pushing the two remaining boys down onto the sand before leaping after her dark-haired friend.

"Hey, now that isn't fair!"

"What a day," muttered Harry, as he walked through the front door. Dropping his backpack onto the floor, he transformed back into a werewolf and climbed onto the couch. Circling around a few times, he pawed at the cushions and nestled himself into the corner and curled up.

"Harry, is that you?" asked Remus, walking into the living room from around the corner. "Oh, come on! Not on the couch Harry! You know how annoying it is to clean the fur off!"

Harry lifted his head tiredly and snorted at Remus before curling up more. Sirius, who had just walked in behind him, laughed and shook his head. "You know, I don't remember signing up anywhere to take care of a dog," Remus muttered quietly. Harry's ear twitched slightly as his sensitive hearing easily picked up his words. A soft growl came from the young werewolf before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"Leave him alone Remus," said Sirius, dragging his friend out of the room. "I'm sure he's tired from school, and he still has homework to finish before lessons with us. Let him rest."

"I can understand him wanting to rest," replied Remus, shaking his head. "I just don't understand why he always has to transform. Why can't he just be…normal?"

"Remus, I know being a werewolf is a painful experience for you, but for Harry its part of who he is. Being in his werewolf form feels just as natural to him as being human is, so that for him is normal. Normal for us doesn't always apply to Harry, remember that."

"I suppose you're right," sighed Remus, running a hand through his hair. "But still, does he have to sleep like that on the couch? Even with magic it's a hassle with the way he sheds!"

"He's a big boy now and knows the cleaning spell. Just let him clean it up. At least it's not like when he was little and couldn't control himself when he got too excited…"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Remus asked, smirking.

"It wasn't even a little tinkle!" pouted Sirius, walking away.

"Harry, Sirius, it's time for dinner!" shouted Remus from the backdoor.

"We'll be right there!" Sirius called back. "Give us two minutes! The simulation is almost over!" He waved at the other Marauder before turning back to Harry, who was currently working on target practice with his spells. "Come on, Harry! You're almost done!"

"Stupefy! Reducto! Confringo!" Ignoring his godfather, the young werewolf focused on his targets as they appeared and disappeared around him. Spell after spell flew from his wand, stunning, blasting, and utterly obliterating the training dummies, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. Suddenly, a loud buzzing was heard and he tiredly dropped his arm in exhaustion as the dummies magically pieced themselves back together. He panted heavily as he walked to where Sirius stood, giving his godfather a small grin. "How'd I do?"

"You did well today," said Sirius, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulder and leading him inside. "You got 89 out of 100, so you've definitely improved since last time."

Harry's grin grew wider as he heard the results and felt his chest swell with pride. He'd only missed 11 this time, which was better than the 26 he missed the time before. "I'll get them all next time, and then we can speed the dummies up even more." Sitting at the dining table, he let his mind wander as Sirius went to help Remus bring the plates over.

He'd first begun training when he was around seven, and back then had been only able to throw weak stunners. In the past, the target speed had been set to slow and it had gotten faster as he learned more magic and honed his skills and reflexes. Three years later and it was set to medium-fast, a pace that had even most adult witches and wizards running out of breath. Sirius and Remus had kept up their own training, and were able hit every target at the highest setting, and young Harry was eager for the day he would match them spell for spell.

At first, he had thought that this was all a game; a learning experience, as his uncle Remus liked to call things. But as he got older, he began to question why he was pushed so hard to learn spells and potions, and eventually the truth had come out. A prophesy. A prophesy had declared him the Chosen One, and his family wanted him to be nothing short of prepared to face his destiny. Harry wasn't stupid, and he most certainly wasn't ignorant. He knew who and what he would be up against. Even in the States, Voldemort had been considered a huge threat, and they had begun building up their Auror Corps in case he ever decided to jump the pond. Because of that, it was a noted time in history and he had learned all about it in school.

Harry had always known why his parents were murdered and by who. But up until then, he had never known it was because of him and that prophesy. Sirius and Remus had always made it seem like James and Lily were in hiding simply because they were well-known supporters of Dumbledore and the Light, and had fought against him on many occasions. The day he finally learned the truth, the real truth, he swore to never be weak and helpless again. He was still young, but he understood well the meaning of sacrifice, and no one would ever die for him again. Ever.

And so he threw himself into his studies, at school and at home. He read as many books as he could and soaked up their knowledge like a sponge, something Remus and Sirius said was a trait of his mother's. Like his father, he was quick on his feet and could react to many situations, given just a minute or two of time. With an ex-Auror and a trained werewolf as his teachers, he had become a force to reckon with in just a few short years, and he'd only grow stronger as time went by. Not to say he was overly-powerful; anybody who was determined enough to train like he did could become like him. He wasn't special; he was just motivated.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Remus, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

"Huh?" asked Harry, blinking.

"I asked what you were thinking about," Remus repeated. "You haven't touched your food, which is strange, considering it's your favorite: bloody rare steak with a slight sear. Now what's up kiddo?"

Harry shrugged and grabbed his knife and fork, cutting into the still red steak and taking a huge bite. "It's just weird," he said quietly, swallowing. "School is almost over, and I'll be transferring to Hogwarts in the fall. It'll be strange going to school over there, where they have everything so…backwards. It'll be like going back in time."

Sirius laughed quietly and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "Well imagine how it was for us to come to America from Britain. It was like going into the future!" he said, grinning slightly. "I know things will be tough for you, but Hogwarts is where your parents would have wanted you to go. If it makes you feel better, let's make a deal. Try it out for a year or two, and if you really don't like it there, we'll tell Dumbledore we're pulling you out and send you back to the academy. How's that sound?"

"Okay, deal," replied Harry, smiling. He'd only have to endure Hogwarts for a little while before he could rejoin his friends at George Washington. His smiled faltered as he suddenly remembered something and he sighed. "But what about Voldemort? If I go back, doesn't that mean I'll have to face him?"

"Harry, no one knows exactly where he is or what sort of condition he's in," said Remus reassuringly. "It'll be several more years before you'll have to deal with him, and you'll have plenty of more time to prepare. Also, never forget, Sirius and I will be with you every step of the way."

"Thanks," said Harry appreciatively, glad to have such supportive uncles. Feeling much better about himself, he dug into his meal with renewed vengeance. Poor steak never stood a chance.

Well that's it for now! I really hope you liked it, and that you continue to read it! As always, please REVIEW! I'd love to know your thoughts on the story so far.