"There goes Lupin," Hermione whispered. "He's transforming." Both of them shivered as they heard the echoes of bones breaking and muscles being reshaped into a grotesque hybridization of man and half reached their ears.
Like lightning, Harry snapped to attention. "Hermione!" he hissed. "We've got to move!" He tugged on her arm, urging her to run with him.
"We mustn't, I keep telling you —"
"Not to interfere! Lupin's going to run into the forest, right at us!"
Hermione gasped. "Quick!" she moaned, dashing to untie Buckbeak, panic overtaking her. "Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The Dementors will be coming any moment-"
"Back to Hagrid's!" Harry said. "It's empty now," taking off in a dead sprint, Harry shouted, "COME ON!" They ran as fast as they could, Buckbeak cantering along behind them. They could hear the werewolf howling behind them, spurring them on.
Panting, Hermione gasped, "Just a little bit further, we're almost-" Whatever she was going to say was cut off, as Remus in all of his wolven glory was upon them, howling like a demon. Both students froze at the emaciated wolfman, who still towered above them. A shriek left Hermione's lips as he lunged at them, his maw descending on her.
Time slowed for Harry, his body moving before his mind had even conjured a plan, his only thought being to protect Hermione. A howl left Harry's lips as he reflexively shoved his left arm into the gaping maw. Skin bone and muscle rent by the razor sharp fangs of a werewolf. A sharp tug severed his arm, leaving a mess of a stump in its place.
"Harry? HARRY?!" Hermione's voice sounded like someone else's then, but Harry couldn't place it. His focus was on the blinding pain in his arm. A roar left Harry's lips as he brought his wand up, bellowing a wordless spell at the wolf, launching the creature away. "Oh sweet Merlin, Harry, your arm!" Hermione cried, fidgeting, looking for something to do, while Harry clutched his injured arm to his chest.
"Are you a witch or not?" she whispered, drawing her wand and conjuring a strip of cloth. Before she could dress the wound, her focus was, once again, drawn to the remains of Harry's arm. "Harry? Wh… What? Your… your arm… look!" Following her gesture, Harry saw the stump of his arm growing and twisting into something monstrous.
Night black fur grew out of his rapidly changing arm, causing a violent itch just underneath his skin. Harry winced as bones broke, muscles mutated, and skin shredded by this change. Slowly, a pair of gleaming red eyes emerged, filled with hunger and hate. As the eyes grew in, a pair of ears burst from just behind them, rupturing skin and muscle.
Harry doubled over, howling and clutching the arm as razor-sharp teeth punched through the gums of the beast, spraying blood over his face. A warm, wet breath hit his face, smelling of copper and sugar. A throbbing pulse built in his arm, causing it to swell, growing to the size of a large dog almost instantly and hardly slowing down.
After agonising hours, the transformation finally ended, and Harry could finally behold what happened to his arm. It looked like something out of a nightmare. A snarling, drooling, growling mass of vaguely canine features. Harry's stomach revolted at the sight of matted, blood stained fur. Of the coppery smell that emanated from the unnatural growth. Of the primal hunger that awoke within him, urging him to find something to prey on.
Something dark assaulted Harry's senses, opening the world to him. The forest filtered into his nose, filling it with the various scents. Grass, pines, wood, Buckbeak, Remus, Sirius, Snape… sweat, blood, Fear. And so many more scents. The world flickered between coloured gasses, showing Harry the paths to stalk, and dull blues or yellows. The sudden shifts causing Harry to try to shield his eyes.
And when his vision went dark, the sounds crept in. Leaves rustling in the wind. The pounding of hooves. The flapping of wings. The cries of animals. The scuttling of legs, which sent a spasm of fear through Harry's body. Soon, a rhythmic thumping began to echo, dispelling all the other sounds. The beat, fast, and nearby. "A Heartbeat," Harry whispered, turning his head to where a familiar scent stood. "Hermione," he muttered, opening his eyes to look at her.
Hermione was startled by his eyes, "Why are your eyes glowing?" Harry paid no mind to the question, focusing instead on approaching her. "Wha-What are you doing, Harry?" She asked, sending a spark of aggravation through his body. Suddenly, his arm began to move, the wolf growing larger and more aggressive as their shared senses began to overstimulate it. A low, rumbling growl left its maw as it jerked around, trying to hunt.
"Harry?" The question triggered something, and the wolf's head locked onto Hermione. For a moment, all was still. Then the silence of the forest shattered as she screamed. The wolf's head lunged for her throat, Harry crying out as he tried to stop it.
Gasping awake, Harry shot up, his left arm posed like he was grabbing a throat. "HERMIONE!" The name echoed like thunder in the early morning.
Feeling the cool Autumn air hit his skin brought Harry back to the present, and allowed his arm to fall. "Full Moon is tonight," he muttered, feeling his arm throb in pain. A reminder of the curse he was now afflicted with. Deep within his mind, The Wolf howled and thrashed, tearing at the mental bonds Harry had in place. "Always so restless," he muttered, sitting himself up.
Lifting his arm, Harry winced as he saw the oozing grey blood seep through the bandage. "Damned curse has flared again." He muttered, "meaning It's going to hit me now-" a sudden pulse of pain shot through his arm, causing his vision to white out for a moment. A shuddering breath left his lips as he reached for a potion to his right, a powerful painkiller, knocking back half of the vial, Harry waited for its effects to kick in.
Soon, a sweet numbness swept over him, restoring his vision and focus. A sigh left Harry's lips, "Dobby, please check how much of this potion I have left, and if it's below two cases, please refill it," Harry ordered, grasping his head as he struggled to find the energy to get out of bed. "Can't just slob it out," He muttered.
Throwing his quilt off and standing, wincing as he became aware of his sweat soaked body. Knowing he wouldn't find sleep again, Harry walked over to his "Bathtub", a magically expanded crock-pot. "Dobby, please fill the bath, thank you," Harry said, flinching as his left arm throbbed. Soon, he was sinking in a pleasantly steamy bath and groaning as the warm water helped wash the aches of his nightmare away.
And as he soaked, his mind wandered to the reason for his trip. The Wolf Totem. A statue said to have been made from the blood of Lupa, the Roman Wolf Goddess. "Legend holds that it can heal werewolves," Harry muttered, recalling the passage he'd read once. "And like always, wizards dismissed it because of its mundane origins." shedding his bandages, Harry winced at the grotesque wound on his arm, infected with a vile pus and foul smelling liquid.
Breathing deeply, he submerged his arm in the water. "Dobby, add the solution," he growled, gruff from the pain. Harry grit his teeth as Dobby added a solution of Wolf's Bane and Silver extract to the bath. A roar left his lips as he wrenched his arm free of the water, a bucket appearing around his arm, magically attracting the liquids from his wounds as his skin steamed.
After an hour, Harry withdrew his arm, pinked but looking significantly better. Leaving the bath, Harry got ready for the day. "At least the curse made it so that I can ride and people won't look too closely," he grunted, dressing in his biking leathers and grabbing his keys. "Dobby, please pack away my tent, and fuel my bike, thank you," Harry said, re-wrapping his arm in bandages soaked in melted down Unicorn horns.
Once dressed and fed, Harry made his way to the bike Sirius had gotten him. Pulling his helmet on, Harry revved his engine and rode off, heading to the British Museum. He was close now. He could feel it.
A few minutes into the ride, Harry began to feel it in earnest, The Call. Pain flared in his arm, causing Harry to grit his teeth, yet the Wolf did not respond. If anything, it seemed to relax under The Call. The speed limit became a suggestion as Harry urged his bike to go faster. The lack of thrashing by The Wolf letting Harry focus through the pain.
The pain made the ride feel longer than it was, but soon, he was parking at the Museum, "Dobby, please apply my glamor," Harry muttered as he pulled his helmet off, his black hair turning auburn brown as his green eyes faded to a dull blue. Even his infamous scar was covered, as it was extended all the way down his face, making it look as if he'd be sliced by something sharp.
Harry tied his helmet to his waist and walked over to the ticket booth. "Ticket Please," a very bored male said, barely looking up at Harry. Silently, Harry produced his ticket and handed it over, allowing it to be stamped. "Please go on in and enjoy your time here. Thank you for visiting the British Museum," the male said, handing Harry his ticket back and gesturing to the now open barriers.
Once inside, Harry closed his eyes and focused, the warmth of his magic filling his chest as he applied a powerful Notice Me Not ward around himself. "Now, to find that statue." He muttered, focusing on The Call.
In a daze, Harry wandered, dodging people and walls as he made his way into a hidden part of the Museum, one free of prying eyes.
Coming out of his daze, Harry finally spotted it. The Wolf Totem. To a muggle's eyes, it was an ordinary statue, but to Harry's eyes, it was the centre of a blazing maelstrom of magic power. Being near it caused his left arm, where Remus had bitten him, to ache. But, it also caused the beast inside him to still, and to calm. Harry inhaled deeply and approached.
He got four steps toward it when he felt a hook behind his naval and was pulled from his feet. Suddenly, he was in a forest, where he did not know. What he did know was that the Call was intense know, a howled song of power and freedom. Pain and confusion warred in his mind, leaving Harry with no choice but to march toward the totem.
And the closer he got, the worse the ache in his arm got but the calmer the beast became. Till finally, he could not handle the pain anymore. Dropping to his knees, Harry clutched his arm, gritting his teeth to avoid screaming. Somehow, he managed to crawl to the base of the totem, his arm now bleeding profusely. Weakly, he rested against it, for tonight was a full moon and Harry would not be a part of senseless slaughter.
Yet, the change never came. Instead, Harry drifted off to sleep.
The wind whipped by his maw, cooling his rapidly warming blood, a feeling unlike anything he'd ever felt before filled him. A howl tore past his lips, one of triumph and joy. Hearing an answering howl, he turned and bounded toward it. Racing over fields of green and yellow, he tracked the sound and scent, drawing ever closer to the one who called him.
Within moments, he found her. A Giant She-wolf, only somewhat bigger than him. She snarled, locking eyes with him as he growled in defiance. Their contest went on for an age before he relented and submitted. The She-wolf's snarl was replaced by a low, pleased growl. Soon, Harry felt her nuzzling his head, a gesture he returned, growling in happiness.
Feeling her leave, Harry looked up, and spotted the She-wolf making a beckoning gesture with her maw. After a second, she took off in a sprint, one Harry matched. Within a few moments, he caught up. And was confused by what he saw. The She-Wolf paused her running and lowered her snout to the ground, sniffing at something. After a moment, Harry realised that she was hunting.
Excitement filled him, as a predatory part of his mind awoke, called by the thrill of the hunt. Quickly, he copied her actions, looking for something to chase. Soon, the scent of hare filled his nose and Harry began to chase it, stalking the small creature for miles. Not for food, for he was not yet hungry, but because he could.
After what felt like hours of catching the hare, just to let it go, Harry grew bored. The She-Wolf howled, and Harry began a game of tag. A howl of joy left his maw as he chased her around, it honestly felt like he was on his broom and playing Quidditch. The feeling of the wind in his fur, the ground at his feet, and even the scents in his nose left Harry excited.
For hours, Harry played with the She-Wolf under the full moon, the curse never once waking up. They rolled in the mud, chased each other through the underbrush, tackled each other, wrestled, tugged on small logs, jumped on the other, rearing up and boxing with their forepaws, and even biting at each other. All while the She-Wolf taught Harry about his new strength, his new power.
His stomach soon rumbled, signalling that it was time for food. Quickly, Harry began to hunt. Finding and stalking a bear. One that smelled of blood. Human blood. The She-Wolf followed him, stalking through the forest, leaping from shadow to shadow as they got closer and closer to their prey. His hunger growing greater and greater as drew nearer and nearer.
Soon, the grassy floor of the forest was replaced by a stone path, which led to a house. And sitting in that house, Harry found it. A bear, caked in blood, with body parts strewn about. And his stomach rumbled at the smell. Harry growled lowly as he stalked in, the bear not seeing him till it was too late.
Sneaking up, Harry lunged onto the bear's back causing it to roar and thrash. His fangs sunk through its hide and Harry tightened his hold, resisting as the bear tried to throw him off. Soon, he reared back, and with tremendous strength, Harry threw the bear out the door, destroying the door frame and part of the walls as the bear crashed through them.
Harry stalked outside and was greeted by the bear's roar of challenge. Snarling, he answered, and the two charged. They met in the middle, Harry lunging into the sky as the bear too. His claws rending its flesh while its fangs sunk into his shoulder. A howl left Harry's maw before he bit the bear in return. For a moment, they struggled, then the bear threw Harry down.
Quickly rolling to his feet, Harry lunged at the bear once more, this time aiming for its throat. A slap from its paw knocked him away, but Harry landed on his feet this time. With a jump, Harry dodged away from its next swipe. Getting on the bear's back, Harry once more bit into its neck, and before it could thrash and throw him off, Harry savagely jerked his maw.
With a dull thud, the dead animal feel down, and the She-Wolf emerged. Harry dragged the bear before her, presenting her with his kill. She once more nuzzled him, letting a low growl out, and took a bite. The feast was on and Harry was eager to enjoy it.
Coming into awareness was a slow process. One that took Harry nearly five minutes to complete. He stirred and slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. And despite the taste of cooper in his mouth, Harry's throat was parched. Blindingly, he reached for a water bottle and began to wet his throat, the action helping him to fully wake up.
And as he became more aware, he felt something off. That something was missing. Like a weight he'd been carrying around for so long, he'd stopped noticing it was gone, leaving him feeling light. After a few moments, it hit him. The curse! It was gone. Closing his eyes to focus, Harry listened intently for the beast, but found it silent.
Needing to know for certain, Harry closed his eyes and focused. Slowly, magic built in his body, spreading from his heart and filling every part of him. As easy as Harry would pull a jumper over his head, his form shifted, an enormous wolf replacing his bipedal form. A howl of triumph left his lips as he realised this. That he was truly free of the curse.
Power now coursed in his veins and he growled, enjoying how strong his wolf was. His Care knowledge was limited, but a glance in a nearby puddle showed him the face of a Warg. A gigantic wolf, famous in Norse Myth. For a long moment, Harry merely admitted himself, the bulging muscles of his wolven form, the sharp senses he now possessed. Even the new instincts he now had.
Then, he took off, sprinting into the woods. He was hungry after all. Soon, his powerful nose picked up the scent of deer, and the Hunt was on. For an hour, Harry chased the deer, enjoying the freedom and speed of his new body. But, as the night began to wane, he picked up the speed and finished the chase.
"Hogwarts was in for a shock", he thought, skinning his catch, for it would be a very different Harry Potter in her halls come this September.