“I have already told you, Mr. Potter. Her vitals, and her magic, are completely stable. She will wake up shortly. I believe you have classes to attend soon?”
She had been reassuring me for the last thirty minutes that Hermione was fine, but it was hard for me to accept. That was not anything caused by a biological imbalance, or a panic attack. It was magically induced, nothing else. My real reason for bothering the mediwitch was so that I could wait to get Dumbledore alone. But he had yet to show up, the coward.
Although I have to admit, it is a relief that she still has her magic.
“Yes, Professor.” I responded, when it became obvious that Dumbledore wasn’t going to check on Hermione. “I will return after History of Magic, to check on her.”
I turned around, and turned invisible almost as soon as I left the room.
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“…you see the goblins of the 19th century were not the same as this…”
It was too easy to tune out Binns. No matter what universe I’m in, Binns was still massively under-qualified to teach children. Hell he was under-qualified to teach anyone. And why was the History of Magic really just the History of Goblin-Rebellions? Why must this world teach the children of magic that another completely intelligent race was not equal to them?
History of Magic was a subtle manipulation of the newest generation. Why did Dumbledore allow it? I certainly wouldn’t have.
Why does Dumbledore do anything that he does? No one will ever know.
One thing I did know, his magic was overwhelming at the best of times, and suffocating at the worst. A century of constantly casting and perfecting magic. He was, by far, the most talented transfiguration practitioner that has ever existed. He spent decades perfecting his craft, and more decades teaching transfiguration. Couple a century's worth of magic with genius intellect and you get the great Albus Dumbledore.
That is exactly why I was in History of Magic, reading my second book on dueling. ‘History of Duels, Outside of the Circuit by Anthony Longbottom’. It was an interesting read, going into detail on the duels by ordinary, and extraordinary, wizards. He explained known spells, the power differential between the two participants, and how it all entwined to the eventual winner.
The parts that interested me the most, was when he detailed which spells would have served the caster better. A piercing hex here instead of a stunner. A cutting charm here instead of a disarming charm. Anthony Longbottom was an auror, and apparently a damned good one too. He studied how to best defend himself using the history of duels, and eventually he found himself with a manuscript and decided to publish it.
He ignored the dueling circuit due to the ‘sporty’ nature and unrealistic duels it promoted. As an auror, one must be prepared for lethality, something banned in the dueling circuit, along with countless spells a duelist cannot use.
It’s probably why nobody really cares about the sport anymore. It barely holds any credibility.
I heard the faint footsteps outside the classroom before the door could open, and I was already looking in that direction. She had a specific way of walking that I had become very familiar with over our time as friends. I was becoming more and more in tune with my werewolf senses and how to use it for my environment, something that I knew would come in handy in the future.
My generally angry mood, that had followed me since breakfast this morning, disappeared as Hermione walked into the room of her own free will. She handed Binns a permission slip that I knew would excuse her from any punishment of being late to the class before walking towards Ron and I’s table.
I took a moment to observe her to see if she was in any way hurt. It was obvious that she was still recovering. Her right leg wobbled ever so slightly when her weight shifted to it. Her right hand also shook when she got to our table and grabbed it for support.
My right hand reached out and I gently grabbed her left hand to support her. She used it to gently sit down in her seat.
“Thank you.” She whispered as she gave me a forced smile.
“My pleasure.” I answered her, holding back the questions that I wanted to ask.
If she was under a magical contract with Dumbledore about that night, I could never bring the topic up again, not until she was freed from it, or it expired. So instead, I kept an eye on her between pages, checking to make sure she was alright.
All the while, my anger at Dumbledore returned.
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“Want to go to Hogsmeade, Harry?”
I looked up from the book I was buried in, to see Hermione and Ron dressed in casual muggle clothes. Wasn’t it odd that Ron almost always dressed like Hermione and I outside of the magical world? Where did he even get his muggle clothes? Pure blood Wizards seemed to always wear robes, no matter the occasion. The only thing that changed was the colors and quality of the robes.
“Or are you going to work on your transfiguration homework again?” Ron teased with a grin and sent a pointed look to the book in my hands.
I smiled at him, taking the jab with grace. I almost accepted the offer, I had been studying and practicing magic non-stop since the summer break. I wasn’t getting burnt out, because how could one ever get burnt out of magic? But breaks were always a good idea, and I needed to spend more time with my friends. I had been distant for a while.
“Finished that last night. I was thinking of practicing dueling, actually.” I told him, with denial in my voice. “Maybe next weekend, yeah?”
I would deny them next weekend as well. They didn’t need to be seen with me, more than they already were. They did not notice the looks of hate, and whispered slurs, that the students and some of the staff sent them.
I did.
All of Hogsmeade didn’t need to be on edge whenever they visited. A part of me wanted to go out of spite, because I was in complete control of myself, just to shove it in their faces. The other part of me, the part that was winning the argument, wanted them to have a normal childhood while I grew powerful in secret.
“You sure, Harry?” Hermione asked, with a strained look on her face. She could always see right through my excuses. Despite my advanced mind age, I couldn’t quite get away with manipulating them under the guise of studying.
“Yes, thank you.” I told her, going back to my book.
I didn’t read anything, I could only focus on the sound of their retreating footsteps.
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“May I have a moment, Professor?” I asked as the last student walked out of the Potions classroom.
“You have double Herbology soon, do you not?” Snape growled out towards me, as he graded papers on his desk. He had yet to look up at me. He was still angry with me. Enough to grade my Outstanding potions, as nothing more than Exceeds Expectations despite their superior quality to the rest of the class.
“I do, this shouldn’t take long.” I answered, with my hands behind my back, patiently.
“Go on, then.” He snapped quickly. He was always a foul person to be around, but I normally forgave him that. Snape had made bad decisions as a young man, and he could never get away from the consequences. I knew how that could make a man bitter and grumpy.
“I would like to purchase the supplies for you, at the very least.” I told the man simply, getting straight to the point.
His head snapped to me, and his normally impassive face was practically screaming rage and hate.
“NO!” Snape told me, in a tone of voice that was just short of yelling.
I frowned, not understanding why he was so mad, nor why he would let me.
“Watch how you speak to me, professor!” I growled back to him, out of reflex more than anything. I had immediately gotten angry once he yelled, something that was happening more and more often nowadays.
His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, but the look on his face disappeared and was replaced with his normal dead look. I took a deep breath, in response, and tried to calm down for a moment.
“Why?” I asked when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to speak. “Why won’t you allow me to help? Why do you refuse to acknowledge my potions as the best in the class, when it’s so obvious. Be honest because I’m tired of this.” I asked while pointing to the ground between us.
“Because I have a reputation to uphold, Mr. Potter. Something you cannot buy, a fact which you fail to understand.” Snape answered, in a neutral tone.
“Because I’m a werewolf?” I scoffed in incredulance, seeing the answer immediately. Snape didn’t answer, and that was all the confirmation I needed.
My anger soared through the roof, and my give a fucks went to zero.
“A death eater, worried about his fucking reputation, imagine that! What reputation do you seek to defend, hmm Snape?” I asked.
He smirked at me, and I could tell that he was pleased at my reaction. “I am the youngest Wizard to ever achieve mastery at potion making. There is no potion known to man that I cannot brew and there are a total of five wizards in the world capable of matching the quality, boy! My reputation and legacy is secured!” Snape slammed his hands on the table in front of him and stood up leaning over his table.
“I will not have that reputation ruined over a single werewolf, and a Potter to boot. Now get out!” Snape added and pointed towards the door.
Oh no he didn’t. If you want to play that way, then we can play that way.
“All of that, and you’re still a coward who got my mother killed! I bet she’s rolling in her grave knowing that you failed to stop Lupin from turning me that night, despite your fucking reputation!”
Snape’s arm moved, and my eyes locked on to the movement instinctively. His hand snapped, in the same manner that I normally did when drawing my wand.
To me, it was like he was moving in slow motion, and my reactions kicked in. My own wand made it into my hand at the same time as him. He started to point it towards me, and I immediately went on the defensive against such a powerful opponent.
The Shield Charm appeared in between us, before he could cast a spell.
Although he never actually cast anything. He was standing there with his wand pointed at me. I expected to see a look of hatred directed towards me, but it was an impassive look. It was as if he had lost all emotion.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
His Occlumency must have kicked in and stopped him from attacking a student.
“Get….out.” He commanded as the arm holding his wand dropped, and for a moment I felt bad for what I said. His voice did not waver, and there were no physical signs that I could pick up on to tell me that he was upset. But I could tell I hurt his feelings and gotten to him.
I cut off the magic for the shield charm, and when it disappeared, the light in the room went back to practically nothing.
I stared into his eyes for a moment, before turning and leaving the classroom.
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Losing 5 points for being late to a class was a good way to piss your classmates off. Even Hermione seemed a bit miffed during the lesson at my actions.
That was why I was currently walking down a familiar path, alone and away from the castle towards an old friend. Someone I hadn’t talked to in quite a while. Hagrid was just the person I needed to talk to and calm me down.
Unfortunately, I must have forgotten to turn myself invisible. Something I would definitely be working on in the near future. Although I never thought I would have to live life invisible to be left alone.
I heard the sounds of running down the path, and was beginning to turn towards them when I felt the magic build up. I jumped to my left and covered my head with my hands immediately.
“Expulso!”
Dirt and stone bounced off of my clothes as my attacker’s spell went wide. I didn’t waste any time drawing my wand and turning to my attacker.
“Stupefy!”
Adrenaline filled my system, and just like I had done a couple hours before in Snape’s classroom, I cast the Shield Charm in front of me. The red spell was absorbed into the shield, without wavering even slightly. I could see my attacker through the shield, but I couldn’t make out any details of the person.
But I was not going to defend all day and wait for them to stop. So I prepared a spell chain that was common for Aurors in Anthony Longbottom’s day. A reducto, followed by a Stupefy, and finally a disarming charm. Although at the moment, I decided to send them in a different order.
I dropped my shield and my wand whipped towards my attacker. The red light of a stunning charm raced across the distance between us, and he barely managed to block the spell.
“Protego.”
I knew I was already more advanced than my attacker, because there was a crack in the shield from the first spell, and he was still verbally casting his spells. Although I couldn’t quite place the familiar voice.
Before he could react, I sent a reducto into his shield, shattering the weak thing. And with a simple flick of my wand, the disarming charm impacted his hand, sending his wand flying in the air.
Without really thinking about it, I summoned the wand out of the air with a silent flick of my wrist. My left hand reached out to snag it out of the air once it flew towards me. It would have been an impressive catch, had I not used magic to make sure that it twirled into my palm perfectly.
“Shit.”
Flint. I realized as I saw the boy turn to run away.
Another spell leapt from my wand and smacked the boy in the back, causing him to lock up. All of the spells were cast silently, and were common spells in the curriculum of Hogwarts. Yet Marcus Flint, known for being an absolute idiot with a small talent in aggressive flying, hadn’t stood a chance against a boy three years younger than him.
In a few moments I had crossed the distance between us and I was standing over him. I reached down and rolled him over, so that he could see what I was about to do next. Once I was certain his eyes were on me, I held his wand up in front of him and grabbed it with two hands.
It snapped, without hardly any effort.
His eyes widened as I tossed the two remains of his wand on his body. “You’re fucking pathetic, Flint.” I told him as I flicked my wand again.
He was unprepared for me to cancel the spell holding him, and it took him a second to get to his feet in front of me.
“You broke my…”
‘Crack.’
Nose.
I could feel his nose give way under my fist, and I can’t describe just how much joy I felt because of it.
“Ah.” He cried out as he fell on his ass again, cradling his nose in his hands.
“Get the fuck out of here.” I told him as I gave him a look that must have made him feel a foot tall.
He obeyed and ran back in the direction of the castle. When I couldn’t see him anymore, I pulled on a certain part of my magic and went invisible.
I couldn’t help but smile at the result of Flint’s ambush. I had absolutely destroyed him, and although I was worried about why he had done it, I already knew the answer. It was probably the same answer that Snape had given me earlier. I brushed it off, as I had real life proof of all my hard work during the summer and beginning of the school year.
I canceled my invisibility and knocked on Hagrid's door. Causing a deep bark to come from Fang, inside. In another life, that bark would have instilled fear in me. But there was very little that I had to fear from animals and magical creatures. I was a XXXXX rated threat in my transformed state. They should be afraid of me.
“Just a moment!” I heard Hagrid call out.
Already my mood was beginning to improve, although it might have been because of the satisfaction I gained from wiping the floor with Flint in a duel.
I knew coming to see Hagrid would put me in a better mood.
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“Hermione, I’m going to be busy tomorrow as you know. Would you mind if I borrowed your notes the day after?” I asked my friend as we walked into the Gryffindor common room from our last class of the day.
Tomorrow was the full moon, and I would be locked in the Shrieking Shack for the entire time. Oh I just couldn’t wait for the pain and loneliness it would bring. Luckily, I would get a lot of practice with my wand before the full moon was high in the night sky. My spell repertoire just kept growing larger and larger.
Hermione looked at me with a look of pure pity before she smiled at me. “Of course, Harry. Is there anything I can…”
“No.” I interrupted before she could offer any help. “I’ll be fine. I’ve told you that it is not nearly as bad as it’s made out to be. I’ve taken my potions.” I explained, before she could persist.
A little white lie. It’s pretty fucking bad.
“Alright, well I’ll see you the day after tomorrow then.” She told me as she walked away, heading in the direction of a couple of gryffindor girls a few years older than us. I looked around, searching for Ron to see if he wanted to do something tonight. I felt that a break was needed before my eventful day tomorrow.
Maybe I can get him to duel me.
I found him lounging on a couch in the common room, next to Dean, Seamus, and Neville. I moved to walk over to him, but I stopped. Ron and the other Gryffindor boys got along well, but I had never seen them hang out as much as they had been recently.
It was then that I realized how I had been blowing him off more and more during the first month of the school year. I disappeared to the Room of Requirement almost every night to study, do homework, and practice magic that was supposed to be too advanced for me. I actually started to develop a routine of excuses I gave them to not go hand out and play chess, or go to the library, or enjoy a relaxed weekend.
Sure I did spend a few nights lounging with them during the month since the term started, but for the most part, I was by myself practicing a particular spell until it came as easy as breathing. I hadn’t noticed how the two of them were drifting away from me. But also, I hadn’t noticed how they were drifting from each other.
We still sat together during classes, walked together to the Great hall, and ate meals together. Beyond that, I didn’t see them much. Hermione no longer looked over my essays, Ron and I no longer discussed the finer points of quidditch. Hell we barely even talked about what had happened at the World Cup, beyond a simple ‘are you alright?’ or ‘how was the match?’.
I’ll need to change that. I thought as I realized my friend group was falling apart.
“Well if it isn’t the filthy half-breed.”
I’m not sure why, but the memory of Malfoy confronting me on the train flashed in front of my eyes. I sent the memory away with practiced ease. He was nothing but a child regurgitating what his father said at the dinner table. I couldn’t allow that to affect my relationships with good people.
Then I saw Neville staring at me. Normally, I would get a nod, or a smile from the quiet and shy boy. But this time there was a flash of something in his posture. He was tense, and as I met his stare I could see him swallow thickly.
He’s afraid of me. I concluded as I deduced his body language.
Maybe I should let my friends keep drifting further…
After all, it’s not their fault that I’m a werewolf. They don’t really understand how important a good reputation can be for their future. It was certainly not too late for them to turn their image around. If Ron manages to graduate and find himself into a good profession like the rest of his brothers, the Weasley name could finally find respect.
Hermione is the smartest witch in Hogwarts at the moment, and will go on to do great things. But she will always be a muggleborn, and this country will look down on her for that. Could she improve her standing though, if she started hanging out with better crowds, like the one she was currently gossiping with?
Don’t they both deserve the best shots they can get in this life?
I turned around, and just like every other day I left the Gryffindor Common Room on my way to the seventh story.
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I braced my arm on the ground, and used it to stand up. I was taller than normal, and my limbs felt long and powerful. My legs held my weight easily and I felt more balanced than I ever had. I rolled my shoulders to get used to the feeling of being transformed again.
The pain was bad during the transformation, but it wasn’t as bad as it normally was.
‘Snap’
‘Snap’
The sound of my jaws closing and my teeth impacting each other bounded off of the walls of the Shrieking Shack. It was a weird feeling having a snout and a longer mouth. And when I breathed in, smells of all sorts assaulted me. But there was no disgust at the smells, just intrigue.
I could understand hating being a werewolf because of how it affected your normal life. The stares got to me sometimes, and it was never pleasant to hear the name calling. It affected relationships, souring most of them. I could definitely see how Lupin had allowed it to defeat him.
But it was also easy for me to be fascinated with my new transformation. It was unexplored territory, to be honest. There were no books on how it felt to transform. There was no describing the smells, the sounds, the night vision, or the sheer physicality it awards. Nobody talked about the benefits at all.
I wanted to explore them.
I wanted to test myself against the other animals of the night. I wanted to stalk in the forbidden forest, and explore the more dangerous territories. What would it be like to hunt, in this form? I hadn’t had any deer in this life yet, and it was one of my favorite meals in the last.
How fast am I?
How strong?
These were all the thoughts that crept into my head as I looked out the window to the Forbidden Forest.
If only I could get there without being seen.
I reached out to my magic instinctively, looking for the shroud that constantly covered it. I had never tried to summon the Cloak of Invisibility while in my werewolf form. I pictured a hoodie over my head and shoulders, but once it reached my torso it was open, almost like it was shredded.
Immediately, I felt the weight of the Cloak settle over the fur on my shoulders and head. My ears were constricted, and with a thought, holes appeared in the cloak to allow my ears to poke out of it and hear the world around me.
A deep rumbling emanated from my chest as I did my best to laugh in my new form. A smile would have split my face if it wasn’t currently impossible. It was without hesitation that I moved to the door of the Shrieking Shack.
Once my hand touched the doorknob and opened the door, I was invisible to the naked eye. One foot moved and the other followed.
Beware, the Invisible Werewolf!
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How fast was I?
On two legs, faster than any olympic athlete. On all fours? It was hard to describe. Trees and brush blurred past me. I felt like a horse, only I knew that I could probably outrun any horse I met. I was an apex predator after all, I could eat horses in this form.
How strong was I?
Well I tested that as well after coming across a freshly fallen tree log. It had to have been close to eight hundred pounds or more. I struggled with it, but eventually I lifted it up and slammed it back down to the ground like a powerlifter hitting his personal record.
It was my claws and my jumping ability that really impressed me. While sprinting through the forest, I had gotten a little careless, and didn’t realize that I was about to slam into a pond about twenty yards in diameter. So instincts took over, and I jumped. The peak of my jump was close to forty feet in the air, and by the time I landed I cleared the pond and then some.
My claws were deadly sharp and supernaturally strong. With a simple swipe, I cut down a tree that was anywhere from seven to ten years old. It didn’t take me very long to realize that I could cut the limbs off of wizards with the perfect strike. Now I knew how easy it was to maul someone. Three or four fast swipes to a torso would leave it shredded beyond repair.
That night, I decided that I would no longer be chained to the Shrieking Shack if I had taken my potions. I was an animal of the night, and I would act that way.
Must resist urge to howl at the moon.