Unexpected by JAWorley
Summary: Some unexpected changes are taking place in Harry's body, which are sure to make for an interesting 6th year. He will have to rely on Ron, a mysterious man, and a snarky Potion's master to get him through the year.
Categories: Healer Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape, Snape Equal Status to Harry > Comrades Snape and Harry Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Ginny, Hagrid, Hermione, McGonagall, Original Character, Other, Petunia, Pomfrey, Remus, Ron
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Canon Snape, Snape Comforts, Snape is Mean, Overly-protective Snape, Snape is Secretive, Snape is Stern
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fantasy, General, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Supernatural
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Creature!fic, Hospitalization, Incognito!Harry, Injured!Harry, Physical Impairment, Runaway, Spying on Harry! Snape, Werewolf!Harry, Werewolf!Snape, Werewolves
Takes Place: 6th summer, 6th Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Neglect, Profanity, Violence
Prompts: Harry is a werewolf
Challenges: Harry is a werewolf
Series: None
Chapters: 9 Completed: No Word count: 29112 Read: 42004 Published: 28 Dec 2011 Updated: 08 Apr 2018
Beasts of Lore by JAWorley
Author's Notes:
No no no no no. Harry was breathing hard and he had the urge to throw his Defense book across the room. He had probably read it wrong... but what about what the Care of Magical Creatures book had said? And the Muggle book from the library?

Harry fell back onto his bed on his back and stared up at the darkening ceiling. Downstairs he could hear the clatter of silverware against plates as the Dursleys and aunt Marge ate dinner, but he didn't feel hungry himself, a change from the constant hunger that had gripped him for the past three weeks.

As if to confirm what he'd just read, Harry looked up at his traitorous Quidditch calendar where it was pinned to the wall by his bed. In exactly one week it would be the full moon. That meant that three weeks ago, when he'd been attacked in the woods (however he'd gotten out there), it had also been a full moon. Damn.

Holding the Defense book up over his head, Harry re-read the words that were condemning him to a life of misery... as if Voldemort hadn't already done that. "Werewolves, also known in the magical world as Weres, or Lycans, are considered dark because of their violent nature. For three days a month, during the full moon, Weres transform under the light of the moon into their more primitive form, and go on a mindless feeding frenzy, attacking and eating whatever they can catch.

"Weres are typically classified in three types based on the type that transferred the Lycanthrope pathogen to them via bite or scratch:


- Russian Lycanthrope, which transforms into a tall wolf like creature with a long snout, and completely covered in hair.
- Albanian Lycanthrope, which transforms into a creature so near looking to a typical wolf that the features are often undistinguishable. This is the only type of Lycanthrope to have a tail.
- Norwegian Lycanthrope, which transforms to have some features of a wolf, such as a face, arms, and legs, mostly covered with hair, but that also keeps many of its humanoid features, such as the ability to walk upright in a normal way. This type of Lycan, while rare, also keeps it's normal humanoid skin on a majority of his or her face, normal human eyes that can turn yellow while hunting or when in the moonlight, and it's regular human voice if not on the hunt. So few have Norwegian Lycanthrope sightings been in Europe, that they have become close to folklore amongst even wizards, although purportedly, this is the majority of the few werewolves roaming in North America."

Harry scanned down the page to werewolf attributes and scowled at what he read there yet again.

"Those who have been newly bitten will experience extreme fever and disorientation. Most who are bitten do not survive, but those who do become the same as those who have cursed them with the bite. New hair growth, super strength, abnormally fast speed, keen eyesight (especially in darkness), and sensitive smell are among the most noted of symptoms. Other symptoms vary based on the type of Lycanthropy."

Harry shuddered as he realized that his room was completely dark now, as he'd yet to turn the light on, but he was still reading without issue, and without his glasses.

This time he didn't suppress the urge and really did throw the book across the room, growling faintly at himself when he noticed he'd actually put a dent in the wall where the book had hit. Would that be his new super strength showing through?

"Boy! What the devil are you doing up there?" Uncle Vernon's voice echoed from below and Harry stood up and began to pace. Heart pounding he balled and unballed his fists, trying to keep himself from shaking all over. Ron would say he was freaking out. If ever there was a good time to have a freak out, this would be it, he thought, and he kicked his desk hard to another disgruntled shout from downstairs. He might as well have become Voldemort himself if he was going to be going on violent rampages once a month killing, and... he shuddered, eating people. His thoughts flashed to his friends then and how near Remus had once come to attacking them. He didn't know if he could convince himself to go back to Hogwarts at all with his friends safety in mind.

As Harry breathed hard in the silence, disgusted with himself and what he had apparently become, he heard another shout from downstairs, this time aunt Marge beckoning him to come down. Trying to calm himself enough to go downstairs without blowing up aunt Marge, he left his room and half ran down the stairs, just wanting to get it all over with.

"There you are," she said with narrowed eyes when he came to stand in the kitchen doorway. "Do you know why you weren't invited to dinner boy?"

Harry didn't dignify her question with even a shake of his head. Whatever she had to say wasn't going to be something that would serve to calm him down. He was suddenly aware of how fast his heart was beating in anticipation of her derogatory words, and even more curious, he thought he was also aware of the beating hearts of the other people in the room.

"Ask me why," she dared him then, brining his attention back around to her from where he'd tilted his head, looking at each person in turn as he tried to decipher if he really could hear their pulse.

"Why," he said dully, and she smiled wide, revealing a bit of spinach stuck between her teeth.

"Because you aren't human enough boy. Remember, I said Ripper was smarter than you? That means I gave your portion to him." She motioned with her hand to a plate on the floor where Ripper had been eating before he'd scurried off to hide at Harry's appearance.

Going without food was nothing new to Harry when he was in residence at Privet Drive. If he'd done something to annoy uncle Vernon or aunt Petunia, he could count on missing a meal. Generally though, he was allowed three small meals a day. The fact that he had done nothing wrong today and his meal had been fed to the dog served to make him far angrier than he should have been if he had any hope of aunt Marge escaping in one, deflated piece.

"What's wrong, got nothing to say to that boy? You know, I'd have given your mother and father's portions to the dogs too if they were smart enough to even be here. But no, they'd had to go and drink themselves into the grave. You must not have been worth it for them to drink like that boy."

Uncle Vernon started to sputter something then as he and aunt Petunia watched Harry grip and un-grip his fists then. He could feel his blood pulsing through his veins now, and there was another strange feeling that was overtaking him now too. He wanted to jump at Marge and do something terrible. Yes, that's exactly what he wanted to do. She didn't seem to notice his anger though as she had turned around to have another bite of her meal, but aunt Petunia screamed then and uncle Vernon was shouting, and Harry wondered what the ruckus was about.

"Ahhhhh!" Dudley jumped up and ran from the room and uncle Vernon was shouting for him to bring the shotgun back.

Harry turned, still angry, expecting to see death eaters behind him, but instead what he saw was his reflection in the china cabinet against the wall. Instead of Harry James Potter, he saw a harrier, more grotesque version of his face, with yellow eyes, and sharp teeth. He was unrecognizable. Noting that his fingers felt different as well, he looked down to find sharp yellowing fingernails at the end of hairy fingers.

Breathing hard, Harry was brought back to reality with another sharp scream, this time from aunt Marge, who instead of standing there screaming like Petunia and Vernon, had actually taken a plate from the table and smashed it over the top of Harry's head.

Harry turned and gave a loud growl, startling the family again, and then on all fours, feeling that this was the right way to move, bolted up the stairs and into his room. With a wave of his wand he had his trunk packed and shrunk, and at more screaming from downstairs, he leapt through the closed window and down to the dark grass below.

Neighbors were coming out of their houses now to see what the screaming was about, but Harry had already run off into the night towards the thicket of woods that was on the other side of the park. He would likely never see Privet Drive again.

Panic and confusion. That was all Harry could feel now as he fell to his knees in the dense woods, a monster alone.

As his breathing calmed, and he could feel his heart rate dropping, he looked down to his fingers and was surprised to find his fingers changing back to their normal appearance. He reached up to his face then and felt that the hair had gone from there as well. What had just happened? Eyes scanning the tree canopy for confirmation, he found the moon, not yet full half obscured by trees. The books said werewolves were only supposed to transform under the full moon, and yet there he had been, as hairy as ever in the kitchen facing down aunt Marge.

"What's happening to me?" he asked nobody in the quiet darkness.

There was a loud crack to his left just then and his head snapped towards the sound, aware that he could also distinguish footsteps coming towards him. Was it a death eater? Was it uncle Vernon coming after him with the shotgun? Or maybe the police?

Ears perking for any sound they could sense, he could hear another heartbeat, this time different from any of the ones he'd just heard at Privet Drive. This one was calm. He heard something else just then though, that prompted him to feel panicky once again. It was a faint male whisper that said, "I've got you now."

Harry leapt up and bolted from his spot on the cold earth just as an arrow whizzed past his head and lodged into a tree. On two legs this time he ran for his life, faster than he'd ever run as a human before, but not as fast as he had run from Privet Drive as a monster. There was another arrow that narrowly missed him, and after that, nothing. He kept running well into the night, until he was sure no human could have followed him.

* * *

Harry awoke on the edge of a small lake at dawn, cold and achy. He had no idea where he was or if he was even close to a road or town. He'd run all through the night until he'd collapsed, exhausted and prayed that he had found a safe place to rest for the night. It had been a harrowing experience fleeing Little Winging, but the morning brought an entirely new set of problems with the rising sun.

Looking at the date on his watch, Harry knew he had five days until the full moon. Five days until he would go on a three day feeding frenzy. He had to figure out someplace safe. Maybe he could transfigure some handcuffs or something and cuff himself to a tree. The thought of his late night attacker however gave him pause and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wondering who wanted to kill him now. Voldemort and his henchmen did not use bows and arrows. He knew of no one that did aside from perhaps elves, and he doubted an elf would step foot within a hundred miles of Little Whinging. Did elves kill werewolves?

Stomach growling, Harry looked around, hoping to spot something he could eat, but there was nothing. He would have thought to fish if he'd had a pole or the know how, but he had none of either and discarded the thought. He supposed he could try to get to Gringotts and get some money from his vault, but this thought made him stop as well. Surely the Ministry would be looking for him now that he'd done more underage magic. He had only turned 16 a month ago. He didn't want to explain to anybody either why he'd had to use the magic. He didn't want to be feared. But something wasn't right either. Owls could find you anywhere, and they would have sent an owl to him already, even if he was asleep here in the woods. But no notice had come, and to be sure, Harry checked the sky and could find no owls. Maybe something had gone wrong with the trace because he'd used the magic in his werewolf form. He shuddered just remembering the sight of himself in the china cabinet, and thought, they can't trace my human magic when I'm a monster.

Harry stood and felt in his pocket for his trunk, which was still in miniature. He would have liked to have changed his clothes this morning since the ones he was wearing were torn and dirty from a night of running through the countryside, but did not want to risk triggering the magic trace by unshrinking his luggage. I can if I'm a wolf, he thought to himself, but he didn't know how to change into that form any more than he knew where he was. He was still confused as to how it had happened last night without a full moon. One minute aunt Marge had been berating him and trying to put him down, and the next he'd felt the urge to launch at her and had then found himself a monster.

His stomach grumbled again and Harry picked a direction and moved off, hoping to find a road of some sort. He figured he had three options at this point: continue wandering around the wild and starve to death until the full moon (he shuddered again at the thought), make his way to Diagon Alley and live there until the summer ended, or try to get to Ron's house where he could try (try mind you) to keep his secret as he waited for school to start. While living in Diagon Alley didn't sound like such a bad option, he was feeling so lost at the moment that he really did want the company of the Weasleys, Ron especially, who might be able to help him figure something out. He could tell Ron, couldn't he? Ron hadn't seemed too upset about Professor Lupin after all... at least until the man had tried to eat them.

Making up his mind Harry continued walking, resolving himself to get to the Weasleys, and allowed his mind to get back to the more pressing issue of the nearing full moon. He did not want to eat people, and it became his mantra as he walked on. I don't eat people, I don't eat people. I don't eat people. It was no comfort as the days wore on.

To be continued...
End Notes:
Ok, so no Severus yet, but he WILL be involved. You probably won't see Severus at all until chapter four. Don't panic though. Harry will get to know Severus well in the upcoming story. Also, I know the werewolf thing is still unclear at this point, but that's because Harry is still learning about it himself, and as he learns, so will the reader.

Comments about this chapter? Reviews give me the motivation to write faster... especially when they contains plot bunnies!


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