Of Veela and Wolves - Part 2

Harry looked around the Shrieking Shack. This was to be his home for the next three nights. Some of the furniture had been repaired. They said it was for 'enrichment' purposes. It gave him something to do in his wolf form.

Currently, he stood naked in the living room. The school term ended a week ago. While he missed Hermione, it removed a lot of stress. He was surprised to see that a majority of the staff left as well. Currently, only Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomphrey, and Hagrid had stayed.

In fact, Hagrid had been much more present in his life. Harry found it funny how the half-giant suddenly was so relaxed around him. It was as though he found a kindred spirit. Harry was more than happy to spend time with him as well. They explored more of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid re-introduced him to the centaurs, and Fang wouldn't let him leave the shack without a steady payment of pets and proving to Harry that he wasn't too big to be a lapdog. Even the Mer-people were nicer to him. They weren't friendly, but the relationship had shifted from apathy to civility.

The care packages from the Weasleys started a couple of days after the end of term. Harry found himself a little choked up when he found that they had included a selection of meat. It was a subtle way of telling him that they knew and still cared about him. He literally almost choked when a package from Fred and George arrived shortly after. It contained a couple of chew toys and a bone.

A pressure in his chest brought him out of his reminiscing. The feeling spread along his body, just short of pain. It felt similar to the moment before the muscle cramp. Harry took a deep breath and let the change roll over him.

He hunched over violently as the bones in his spine popped loudly. His hands spasmed as his fingers morphed to claws. The world went blurry as his face began to shift to accommodate a muzzle. It felt like every joint in his body popped and cracked. The sudden hair growth was a minor annoyance in the flood of new sensations.

Harry had tried to prepare for this. Hermione had shown him the few books she had found on the subject that were more concerning than helpful. There was a very short journal written by a werewolf tucked away in the library. It had more blank pages than those with text and the scent was incredibly faint. There were only a few entries that documented the first shift and not much after. The handwriting changed drastically after the shift. Once measured, almost artistic script became scribbles. The meticulous notes were replaced by frantic ramblings with little focus.

There wasn't a name on the journal, but it didn't take long to find the origin. Nearly eighty years before Remus Lupin attended Hogwarts there was another student, Jacob Lane, the son of a Muggle Doctor, who had been bitten. The details of how it happened were never discussed, but his death was a black mark on Hogwarts history. He had attacked another student in the middle of a class and had to be killed to protect those around him.

His balance shifted as the transformation completed. He jolted forward and caught himself before his muzzle connected with the floor. Each finger ended in a wicked claw that was made to rip through prey. He raised his nose to the air to sniff the air. There was a slight breeze, but it was more than enough to bring the various scents from Hogsmeade closer. He could tell the people in the town had taken refuge on the full moon. The lingering memory of the Shrieking Shack had made the townsfolk careful.

Harry shook his head. His vision was much sharper than usual. Everything that had been obscured in darkness a minute before was easy to see. His vision was in shades of gray where the shadows grew too deep while the lit patches were still in color.

He waited for something to happen. A sudden madness, or overpowering hunger to hit him. This was supposed to be the worst of it. His first shift. He couldn't use Calming Draughts or Wolfsbane until the next full moon.

Instead, he felt fine. At most, he was really hungry.

Harry shifted back to stand on his feet. He found he could walk on two legs or use his arms to propel himself along like a gorilla. Unfortunately, he didn't know what he looked like. They hadn't given him a mirror out of fear that he would hurt himself. From what he could see, his fur was black like his hair. Thankfully, it wasn't as wild. He stood against the wall and marked his height with a claw. When he stepped away, he could see that he was taller than the nearby door.

He tracked down the first piece of meat easily enough. It was a full stretch of beef ribs and it smelled wonderful. He took his time working every bit of meat he could get. Once that was done, he turned his attention to the bones. A curious nibble led to him gnawing on it for a few minutes. It tasted amazing while the texture against his teeth felt so good.

Harry let his thoughts wander as he worked on the bone. He could think clearly, he wasn't a ball of rage, and he was getting bored. A not-so-small smile crossed his muzzle. Hermione probably already had a letter on the way to get a detailed account.

"Arroarworr." Harry tried to speak.

His tongue didn't move right in his mouth. He continued to work on it for a few minutes before he called it a loss. Out of curiosity he tried to cast a spell. Nothing happened. He wondered if he would be able to use magic if he learned how to do non-verbal casting and wandless. That would be a good project to focus on over the summer.

Harry tried to think of something else to do. He could smell a couple more pieces of meat spaced out around the shack, but they didn't interest him. His stomach felt contentedly full. With nothing else to do, he curled up on the recently restored bed to sleep.

"Harry!" Hagrid yelled from outside the shack.

He jumped up to his feet. The familiar click-clack of claws on wood announced Fangs arrival as well. What was Hagrid doing here? Even he knew enough to be wary around a werewolf. The edge of panic faded when he saw the sunlight that drifted through the boarded windows. His first shift was over.

"I got you some clothes." Hagrid called as he opened the door. "Didn't think you'd want to walk around starker naked."

"Thanks." He called from the room.

Harry opened the door just enough to grab the clothes.

"How are you feeling?" Hagrids voice was soaked with concern.

"Fine." He called back as he got dressed. "I ate, I chewed on bones, and slept."

"You remember all that?" Hagrid asked.

"Yeah." Harry opened the door.

Any further conversation ended as Fang jumped on him. His fresh clothes were quickly soaked with drool. Harry laughed as the big dog licked his face like crazy.

"Fang." Harry laughed. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Yes, I still love you."

That seemed to mollify the dog. He stepped off of Harry to allow him to stand.

"Are you sure?" Hagrid looked at him closely.

"It was boring more than anything." Harry shrugged.

Hagrid turned his attention to the shack. The furniture was all still intact, there weren't any new claw marks on the walls. There was even a stack of bones near the old couch. Hagrid didn't get a good look at it as Fang began to poke through to find a one worth his attention.

"Forgot these." Hagrid pulled out a pair of glasses and held them out.

Harry cocked his head to the side. He tapped the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually came to rest. They weren't there, but he could see just fine. In fact, his vision was better than ever.

"Huh." Harry shrugged. "I don't need them."

Hagrid slowly put them back in his pocket. He took another long look at Harry. The first time he had seen Remus after the full moon was not a pleasant memory. Remus had fresh scratches all over his body, winced with each step, and his hands noticeably shook.

Harry appeared to be fine. Actually, he looked healthier than ever. His already striking green eyes practically glowed.

"Madam Pomphrey is waiting for you." Hagrid waved him on. "Got some food for you there too."

Harry rubbed his stomach. "Now that you mention it, I am hungry."

Hagrid made out of the shack before he realized Harry wasn't with him. He turned around to see the boy staring at a doorway.

"What are you doing?" Hagrid asked.

"This is how tall I am." Harry pointed at the slash on the wall.

"That's a good size, Harry." Hagrid said with a nod. "Too bad you're still so short now."

"Hey." Harry shot a mock-glare at Hagrid. "I'm not short, you're just incredibly tall."

"You're just the right height for a second year." Hagrid teased.

~§~§~

The second day of the full moon was much like the first. Harry transformed, ate, and slept. By the third night he was bored out of his mind. It got so bad that he had taken the chew toy Fred and George had sent with him. Unfortunately, it wasn't as satisfying as a bone, so it didn't last long. Harry used it to work on the precision use of his claws. That led to further exploration. He started using his claws to draw pictures on the walls then switched to writing when he realized he lacked artistic talent.

He wrote about how Sirius was innocent, and Pettigrew was guilty. It included the full account of the encounter with the rat as well. He found that it felt really good to put it out there for someone to see. Once that was done, he put down what he remembered about the basilisk. How he had fought it, the way he should have done it, and then who had originally let it out. After that, he started to note all the other magical creatures had had encountered. He wondered what it would be like to see them again now that he was a werewolf.

One thing that he hadn't expected was the changes to his body. Even when not transformed he found his body had gone through some drastic changes. He had grown a few inches after his first transformation. Unfortunately, it only happened once. He was still on the shorter side of things, but it wasn't as obvious. The multiple scars on his body had faded, even the one on his forehead. He no longer needed glasses, his appetite had increased by a lot, and he seemed to always to be warm. His vision at night was sharper, not as much as he was as a wolf, but better than it had been. Thankfully, the transformation helped him adjust to his enhanced senses. They turned up to eleven when he was in wolf form which made it easier to deal with in his human form.

On top of all that, he was noticeable stronger and faster. It didn't take the news that he couldn't play Quidditch hurt less, but it made sense. His new strength and speed gave him an unfair edge. Thankfully, he could still fly.

~§~§~

He had two full moons under his belt when he got a letter from Ron. The writing was sloppy, even by Ron's standards, and the ink was smeared. His dad had got tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. He wanted to invite Harry along. They hadn't seen each other all summer. His usual stay with the Weasleys had been postponed until he felt comfortable starting again. The experience of transforming alone in the Shrieking Shack didn't mean it would be the same around people.

Harry hated to do it, but he had to refuse. The Quidditch World Cup was on the first night of the full moon. He couldn't risk it. Knowing his luck there would be some random thing that would turn him into a mindless beast.

The news of the Death Eater attack had put him in a rage. He had transformed that night of his own will and took his frustrations out on the furniture. His friends were fine, but the Ministry had written it off as a random thing rather than taking a closer look.

That was the start of things around the school grounds getting weird. The professors, as well as some witches and wizards he didn't know, arrived within the week. They brought in large animal enclosures, built new stands around the Quidditch field, and spent a lot of time negotiating with the Mer-People.

Hagrid did an exceptional job at keeping the information secret. For about two hours. The half-giant couldn't keep in his excitement for the upcoming Tri-Wizard Tournament. He told Harry that he had never been around so many magical creatures before. Somehow, Hagrid managed to stop himself before naming any specifics, but the half-giant looked like a kid on Christmas.

The pure joy that Hagrid exuberated was a balm to Harry's anger. It was hard to stay mad when his friend would disappear for a while only to return and giggle throughout the day. He always came back with new scents on him. Harry had to hold himself back to ask. He knew that Hagrid would tell him if pressed, but the half-giant was so pleased that he was keeping a secret.