A bit more canon divergence starting now! For those who don't know, clinical lycanthropy is a real psychological condition where someone genuinely thinks that they're a werewolf. Sometimes they're not a danger to anyone. Sometimes they are. You'll see soon enough why I'm mentioning it.
Also, bear in mind that I'm a proponent of Chekov's gun. I'm not introducing or mentioning things for no reason!
Having spent a week at the Dursleys, Harry's patience had worn thin so quickly that the invite from John's family to stay at their house was something that he feverishly accepted, sending a reply back with Hedwig as soon as he possibly could. Staying with Hermione or Ron wasn't an option; both of them had gone abroad for holidays with their families.
It was a particularly tense scene when John's adoptive parents and sister came with him to take Harry away. Harry had of course, told his Uncle Vernon that he'd been invited to stay somewhere else and he could tell that it was a difficult decision for him; was it better to keep Harry with them and therefore miserable, or was it better to get him out of their hair?
Eventually, the latter prevailed. The less chances of the neighbours talking to him, the better.
Harry's Aunt Petunia answered the door and looked horrified upon the sight of John in particular.
"Good afternoon. Helen Taylor", said John's adoptive mother, offering her hand for Aunt Petunia to shake. She didn't take it and instead, turned around to call for Harry, who was already prepared with a packed trunk and Hedwig sat in her cage.
Uncle Vernon and Dudley however, arrived first.
"You've come for the boy then?", Uncle Vernon grunted.
"He's got a name"
Harry recognised John's voice at once and he knew from his tone that he was glaring at Uncle Vernon, who was currently blocking Harry's view of the door.
"As we understand it, you gave your permission for Harry to stay with us for the remainder of the summer", came a man's voice who Harry presumed was John's adoptive father, Richard.
Uncle Vernon didn't respond at once and Harry knew that he was once again considering his last opportunity to make Harry miserable for the next twelve months, but to Harry's relief, he did relent.
"Off you go, boy", Uncle Vernon grunted, jerking his head towards the door.
Now that Uncle Vernon's wide body was no longer blocking the door, Harry could see the glares coming from the whole Taylor family, John included. He also saw that Dudley was gawking at Ella, who had certainly changed since the last time Harry had seen her. He definitely didn't like the way Dudley was looking at her.
"Do they always talk to you like that?", asked Richard once they'd successfully fit Harry's trunk into their car.
"All the time. It doesn't really bother me though, I stopped caring", Harry assured them honestly. He saw Richard and Helen exchanging a grim look from their two front seats.
"Well... at least you'll actually have some fun this summer", said Ella. Harry hadn't seen her in two years and found himself surprised to see her starting to look like a woman. She was already nearing the same height as her mother and unlike the last time he'd seen her, she was wearing makeup.
Had he and John changed as much as her other the past two years?
Settling into the Taylors' home was a surprisingly easy experience; far easier than settling in at the Burrow the previous year. Of course, the Weasleys had done their level best to make Harry feel welcome, but the Taylors' home in Grovesnor road was far more familiar. The neatly-trimmed back garden, the television set in the large living room, the bicycles and the mirrors that didn't talk back were much easier to get used to, as was the layout of the place.
The family settled down for a dinner that Richard had painstakingly cooked, albeit with Ella's assistance. As John described it, Helen and he were about as useful in a kitchen as cans of paint. They generally found themselves responsible for the cleanup that followed.
The food was delicious too; nearly on-par with what Mrs. Weasley was capable of. Harry was about to comment on it when the news that had been playing in the background began to mention something that they could not help but listen in to.
"We regret to inform you of the reappearance of a dangerous fugitive. Fenrir Greback has not been sighted since nineteen eighty-four and he had been presumed either dead, or no longer operating in Britain. However, a family that wishes to remain unnamed has informed police that he has reappeared in Surrey. Psychologists inform us that he has a severe case of clinical lycanthropy", said the newsreader. Harry and John exchanged looks of curiosity and asked Richard to increase the volume, which he did.
"For those who do not know, this means that Fenrir Greyback truly believes that he is a werewolf, akin to those described in films and stories. Unlike some who suffer from the condition, Greyback has been known to act upon it frequently. The public is warned not to approach him under any circumstances, as Greyback is extremely dangerous and will not hesitate to attack. Any sightings of him should be reported to the police hotline which is being displayed now"
The news showed a blurred image of what was unmistakeably a particularly bloody crime scene, along with a hotline to call for those who sighted him.
"Werewolves are real", Harry blurted out.
The Taylors all stopped eating and stared at him.
"W-what?", Ella asked, going pale.
"They aren't common and the ministry of magic handles them most of the time", Harry added quickly. "But I bet that this Fenrir Greyback guy is one of them"
"He was spotted in Surrey, they said", Richard muttered.
"Alright. The three of you are not to leave this house after seven o'clock. Even if Phil Greene asks you to", Helen said at once.
None of the three youngsters felt like arguing and Ella blushed.
"Who's Phil Greene?", asked John at once.
"N-no-one!", Ella said immediately. The rising colour in her cheeks said otherwise and John eyed her suspiciously. Harry smirked.
"Do we have your word? Until that Greyback character is caught, you are going to be back here at seven o'clock without fail. Understood?", Richard asked. Ella nodded mutely.
"Sure, dad", said John and he sounded sincere, causing Richard to smile with relief.
It was bizarre to hear John, his brother, calling someone 'dad'. Harry and John shared the same father... and yet, they didn't. John had been raised by Richard and Helen Taylor since he was a baby. In spite of the fact that James Potter was long dead, John had a father. The thought made Harry feel shockingly empty.
Why had they been separated as babies? Why was John not in the house when Voldemort had come to kill them all? And most importantly, how would Harry have been different if he too, had a father and a mother? Would he have been fed and have access to sports and exercise to match John's muscles? Would he walk with the same easy confidence that John did? Would he be as ready and able to talk to girls? Harry had already seen how easy John found it to talk to girls that weren't Hermione.
"Can we still watch Jurassic Park next Saturday?", asked John.
"Of course, we'll all go in the morning instead", Helen assured her... son.
It was one of those things Harry doubted that he'd ever be able to ask John about. How would he have done it anyway? 'Hey John, what's it like to have a real family?' There was no option that Harry could think of without instilling pity from John, which was the last thing he wanted.
Over the next week, Harry experienced something he'd never expected to enjoy so much. John and Richard had taught Harry how to ride a bike as well. Harry was shocked with how easy it really was and his initial nerves of having no stabiliser wheels quickly wore off. All he needed to do was keep pedalling. He wasn't as adept as John, but he got the hang of it in a single afternoon and soon enough, he was cycling the neighbourhood with John with not a care in the world.
The next Saturday was a rather eventful one. The reason that they were watching Jurassic Park, Harry realised, was that it was John's birthday and of course, Harry's too. John was certainly pleased with how his adoptive parents had chosen to celebrate it; he'd been enthralled with the film. Harry was in agreement; he couldn't remember watching a better movie. Not that he'd seen many under the care of the Dursleys of course.
As if the already great birthday wasn't already enough fun, John's old friends from his primary school had been invited to their place. Harry had never thought about that. John wasn't like Hermione; he had a fair few friends from his time living as a muggle. He in fact, found it rather easy to get along with them as they shared some pizza, laughter and stories.
"Come on John, tell us about the fancy boarding school you're at! We hardly ever see you!", said a short, brown-haired girl called Sophie who Harry had to admit, was very, very pretty. He hadn't found it as easy to talk to her as John or his friends Max, Oliver or Imogen, who wasn't exactly difficult to look at in her own right.
"Soph, you really want to talk about school?", John asked, laughing.
"Why not?", asked Sophie. "Harry, tell us, does John still rule the roost?", she added, turning to Harry, who felt his neck heating up slightly.
"Yeah. I guess he does. I mean everyone likes him. Everyone apart from... well, you know who John", Harry answered.
"Boarding school doesn't lack for assholes then?", Max asked.
"I think being at a boarding school makes them worse. There are these three in our year, we just call them by their surnames. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Real pieces of work, they are", John said, trying to remain vague. "Oh, and this absolute swamp donkey of a girl, Parkinson"
John's description of Pansy Parkinson made Harry and the two other boys snort, but Ella, Katie and Sophie frowned.
"Come on, you know I wouldn't insult her if she wasn't a total bitch", John added, noticing their frowns.
"Language, birthday-boy!", came Helen's voice from her study which was on the other side of the corridor. John grimaced as his old friends laughed.
"So what do these four do?", asked Katie once she'd stopped laughing.
"Well, Malfoy's their ringleader. Kind of like Ollie is for you lot, but... he's a real piece of crap", said John, quietly enough for Helen not to hear. He gave a wary sideways glance towards her study for good measure.
"He's got a rich dad and treats everyone else like they aren't worth anything. He's been pretty... err... racist towards a really good friend of Harry and me", said John. Harry knew that John was talking about Malfoy's constant use of the word 'mudblood'.
"And those other three act the same?", asked Ella.
Harry and John nodded.
"You're right then. That Parkinson girl is a-", started Ella, before looking at Helen's study like John did. "Bitch", she finished.
"Pretty much everyone else is good though. You should meet our friends Ron and Hermione some day. You'd like them. Ella's already met Hermione", said John.
All in all, Harry decided, this was by far the best birthday he'd ever had, apart from his eleventh of course. But this one was different. He'd experienced what it was like to have a normal birthday as he entered his teenage years. Sitting with friendly people, eating pizza and trying not to embarrass himself in front of a very pretty girl... this was supposed to be normal life for him. He didn't turn thirteen every day and he was glad that his thirteenth birthday was one he'd look back upon fondly.
When John's friends had all left, he and Ella asked Harry about his opinion of them.
"They seemed like a good bunch", said Harry, shrugging.
"I noticed that you had a hard time not looking at Sophie", said John, grinning infuriatingly at Harry, though there was no reasonable way for Harry to deny it.
"Was I that obvious?", he muttered.
"To a bloke? Yes. I don't think she realised, don't worry", John assured him.
"I didn't realise", said Ella. That did make Harry feel better about it all.
"Don't worry, I fancied her in our last year at primary school too" John said, laughing.
"And you never said anything?", Harry asked.
"Nope. I only started actually talking to girls properly at Hogwarts"
That did make Harry feel better. At least John wasn't just God-gifted in that regard.
"The public is warned that Sirius Black is extremely dangerous and armed with a gun. He is not to be approached under any circumstances and if he is sighted, the hotline being displayed should be called immediately-"
The sound of the news reporting on another fugitive cut across their conversation.
"Sirius Black... sounds like a wizard name", said Harry.
"If that's another wizard fugitive... Ministry's got a lot to do then", John replied thoughtfully.
"You think that Greyback person is a real werewolf then?", asked Ella, looking rather worried and peering out through the living room window at the darkening sky.
"He is. John and I have been sending letters to Ron and we asked about him. According to Ron, Greyback is a real werewolf and he's violent. So violent that Ron's dad wouldn't give him any details apparently", Harry explained.
Ella paled.
"And he's... here in Surrey", she whispered.
"Yeah. If there's a full moon, it might be a good idea to make it look like no-one's home", said John, thoughtfully. He looked outside and the moon held a crescent shape that evening. Before he looked back, John's heart felt like it had stopped. Was it the fact that they were talking about a notorious werewolf - no. It was real.
"Guys, look!", he whispered, hurriedly. The three teenagers looked through the living room window and all saw what John saw.
It was a dog. But not any normal dog. It was enormous; as big as a lion, covered in thick, shaggy black fur and had bright, yellow eyes.
"It's not a werewolf. It'd be attacking us by now. But why's it staring at us?", Harry whispered.
"It's too big to be a domestic dog. That thing's bigger than any dog I've ever heard of", John mused.
"Yes. Wolves wouldn't even be half the weight of that thing", said Ella.
To their relief, the dog began wagging its tail and began to pant happily, its tongue lolling out of its mouth, before bounding away.
"Probably not dangerous then", John breathed. Harry could sense his relief.
"Some... some kind of stray? It's too big to be a wolfhound though", Ella wondered.
"Well, hopefully the big guy ends up happy, wherever he goes", John said.
It was a good summer overall, Harry decided, with the slight problem being that Harry wasn't sure that the Taylors' signatures would work for him visiting Hogsmeade. It would for John of course, but whether it'd work for him remained to be seen.
Harry and John didn't meet back up with Ron or Hermione until September the first, when they were due to return to Hogwarts, though when they did, they immediately noticed physical changes in both of them. Ron had grown taller than ever before, to the point where he already matched the height of the average grown man. Hermione meanwhile, looked very tanned, though having visited the South of France, it wasn't surprising. She was also carrying a large, ginger cat with fluffy fur and a slightly squashed face. Ron was eyeing the cat with suspicion.
Ron and Hermione noticed changes in John and Harry too. John had taken up lifting weights over the summer with Richard It took a few weeks before a notable difference was made, but it was now clearly visible. John had led an active lifestyle already, having played rugby, cycling and generally eating a lot of food, but with puberty in full force and lifting weights added on top of it, it had begun to truly show. Harry didn't feel particularly interested in lifting weights, though he knew that both he and John had grown in height as well.
"John, what the hell have you been eating?", asked Ron, grinning.
"Yes", said John, simply, causing the others to laugh.
"I've started lifting weights", he explained. "I've got them in my trunk, you can all do the same if you want"
"How did you even get your trunk into your car?", asked Hermione.
"Painfully. That's how", grumbled Harry. The trunk had wheels, making it relatively easy to move, but lifting it off the ground took the combined efforts of Richard, Harry and John.
Harry and John said their goodbyes to the Taylors, with Harry staying back for an extra moment to thank them for their hospitality. Mr. Weasley, who stood nearby seemed to be waiting to speak to Harry himself. There was a dark look on his face.
"Hermione, are there any spells to make the dumbbells lighter or heavier?", John asked.
"I think so. We can go to the library to check whenever you like", she said as she and John walked onto the Hogwarts express, discussing the matter while Ron was saying goodbye to his mother.
"Harry. Can I have a word?", asked Mr. Weasley.
"Yeah, sure", Harry replied.
Mr. Weasley took Harry aside, behind a pillar where it seemed that he hoped not to be overheard. Harry grew suspicious.
"Harry, I'm sure you've heard on the muggle news about an escaped convict named Sirius Black", he said gravely.
"Yeah. He's a wizard criminal then?", asked Harry.
"One of the worst. Listen, Harry. He's escaped to come after you" Mr. Weasley said and Harry's stomach flipped. "Sirius Black was one of You-Know-Who's followers. They say he was a spy for him, monitoring what Dumbledore was up to, but one day he snapped. He killed thirteen people with a single curse. Worse still, people have said that Azkaban has turned him mad. Volatile. He thinks killing you may restore You-Know-Who to full strength. At least, that's the Ministry's current working theory", Mr. Weasley revealed.
The amount of information that was being thrown at Harry made him dizzy. A madman with enough magical strength to kill thirteen people with a single curse was trying to kill him so that Voldemort could return.
Never a dull moment, then.
"Whatever happens, Harry... whatever you might hear, just promise me that you won't go looking for Black", said Mr. Weasley.
"Arthur! The train's about to leave!", came Mrs. Weasley's voice.
"Yes, Molly, Harry will be along!", Mr. Weasley called back.
"Mr. Weasley... why would I go looking for someone like that?", Harry asked.
"Your word Harry! I want your word that you won't go after him!", Mr. Weasley pressed, starting to look desperate.
"I... alright. I promise, I won't", Harry said. Mr. Weasley's features flooded with relief.
"Arthur! Hurry up!", Mrs. Weasley called again as Harry realised that steam began billowing out from the front of the train. Harry only just made it on board in time.
"What did dad want?", asked Ron when Harry joined him, John and Hermione.
"I'll tell you in a minute, let's find a compartment", said Harry.
The four of them looked through the train, though finding no empty compartments and settling for one with a sleeping man inside.
"Everywhere else is full, let's just go here", said Ron. The four of them took seats inside the compartment and closed the door before getting a better look at the man. He had greying hair, but in spite of that, his scarred face looked relatively young. He was dressed in shabby, discoloured old robes and most of his body was covered in a tattered grey cloak, acting like a blanket.
"Who is he?", asked John.
"Professor R.J. Lupin. He must be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher", said Hermione, pointing up at his suitcase that was above his head. It too was as worn-out looking as his grey travelling cloak.
"Hope he's up to the job. He looks like one decent shot from a wizard with good wand aim would finish him off. Oh by the way, I didn't show you! I got a new wand! Fourteen inches, Willow and a unicorn tail hair", said Ron, holding up his new wand proudly. "Anyway, Harry, what was dad talking to you about?
Harry explained to the others how Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban to come after Harry and all three of them took the news particularly badly.
"I thought Azkaban was supposed to be this fortress that you couldn't get out of. How the hell did he do it...", John breathed.
"Harry, you'll have to be really, really careful!", Hermione said.
"The stuff he's supposed to have done is just bloody terrible", Ron added.
"Well he's supposed to be one of Voldemort's followers, right?", Harry asked. Ron and Hermione flinched at Voldemort's name as usual. "Well I'll be near Dumbledore. Can't be much safer than that, can I?"
It was difficult to discuss anything else on that train journey and with Professor Lupin not being much of a conversationalist in his sleep, changing the topic to some of his expertise didn't seem likely. His presence did offer other benefits however. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle appeared about halfway through the train journey.
"Well... look who it is", Malfoy drawled.
"Wow. He says 'look who it is'... as if you've not been scouring the train looking for people you hate like the sad loser you are", John drawled back.
"I heard your dad was scouring for tickets in the Ministry's lottery. Did your mother die of shock when he got his hands on the gold?", Malfoy asked nastily, going slightly pink at John's comment.
Ron stood up faster than Harry could blink, but when John stood up to hold Ron back, Lupin stirred slightly.
"Who's that?", asked Malfoy sharply.
"New teacher. What were you saying?", Harry asked.
Malfoy grimaced.
"Come on", he said and Crabbe and Goyle followed him away.
"I'm done with him. He mentions my family again and I'll get hold of his head and-" Ron made a violent motion with his hands.
"Ron! Careful!", Hermione whispered; Ron's swinging hand had come dangerously close to Professor Lupin's shoulder.
Once Ron had calmed down sufficiently, the four teenagers returned to discussing the matter of Sirius Black, but their discussion was cut short by the train coming to a particularly abrupt halt as the sky darkened.
Frowning, John looked at his watch.
"We're supposed to be arriving in an hour. What're we stopping for?", he asked curiously. The train shook again as what little light there was began to leave, effectively blinding everyone.
The door shuffled open and Harry could hear two sets of footsteps walking in.
"What's going on? I can't see a thing?"
"Hello Neville", said Harry, laughing.
"Hello?"
"Ginny?"
"Ron?"
"What's going on?"
"I don't know, sit down!"
The footsteps continued shuffling and Harry felt a pair of legs rub near his own.
"Not here! I'm here!", he said.
"Ouch!"
"Quiet!", came a new, hoarse voice. Professor Lupin had at last woken up. "Stay where you are", he said, before the room lit up. Lupin appeared to be holding a fistful of flames. "Stay where you are!"
Harry could hear doors nearby creaking and sliding open. He imagined that it was the other students opening the doors to see what was going on, but decided to listen to Professor Lupin, as did the others in their compartment. It turned out to be a good move.
A towering figure, covered in a tattered black cloak seemed to glide towards the door. It was so tall that its head could have scraped the ceiling if it reared up to its full height. A rotting, scabbed hand protruded from the cloak and pulled the door open. It didn't just look like it was gliding. It really was. It levitated at least six inches off the floor. It took three deep, rattling breaths and the entire train began to feel as if it was getting colder.
Voices and images flashed before Harry's eyes. A cold, high-pitched voice making demands and a woman pleading and begging.
"No! Not my son!"
"Stand aside, girl-"
"I WILL NOT!"
A flash of green light. And then, everything went dark.