Author's note: feel free to ask any questions you may have and sorry if this sucks, for the prologue my friend was proof reading it but I'm just going to post this tonight without proof reading and edit later because I feel really bad about not updating for a really long time. So yeah. Sorry again. Feel free to message me if you want to talk or if you want me to read a story. hope you enjoy.   

Oh and for the purpose of making my life easier, please pretend that the Dursley's house it right in front of a really big patch of woodland. Like their backyard is directly connect to the woods. thanks!
(p.s. Sorry I'm so awkward :p )
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3rd person POV

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Harry Potter's day started out like any other. Well, for him that is. That morning the neighborhood was silent and the sun shone brightly over the residents of privet drive as the early-birds started to move around, though most were still asleep. Such was the case with the inhabitants of number 4.

The night before Vernon Dursley had beaten a certain undeserving inmate of the dwelling into a bloody pulp. But then again, that really wasn't a surprise as it happened quite often. So today Harry woke up to horrendous pains all over his body and someone shaking his shoulder frantically. 'Oh god, mmpphh, everything hurts, my whole body is on fire! why are they shakin' me so hard?! Why would anyone be awake at this unholy hour?' And that's when he heard an all too familiar voice. "Harry! Harry, wake up!" whisper-yield the chubby boy kneeling in front of Harry as he shook him again, though more violently this time. Harry groaned and sat up, trying to wipe a sticky, gritty substance from his face. He sat there disoriented and, frankly, quite grumpy trying in vain to get the foul stuff off his face, when it didn't come off he pulled his hand away to look at it. What he saw there made Harry wake up fast and put his stomach in knots. Some of his fresh and dried blood was mixed into a sickening concoction of thick, rusty-red colored, lumpy liquid dampening his already grimy fingers.

Harry wanted to throw up his non-existent dinner as he looked at the floor around him to see it drenched in liquid of the same color. It was his blood and there was a lot of it. Harry sat there wondering how he was even still alive. "Harry are you ok?" Harry gave him a disbelieving 'did you really just ask me that dumb-ass question?' look. "I mean I know that you're not but you were looking really green for a second there." "Yeah, I'm fine Dudley. Just forget it." he said to the newly named Dudley.

Dudley cast him a skeptical gaze, his blue eyes that usually looked like the clearest of seas lapping at the shore of a tropical island, now clouded with worry. "Fine. But, we need to clean up this mess before Vernon gets his ugly ass out of bed and has a cow," he paused thinking for a moment. "And a horse, and a goat," he added. "Hell, he'd probably have the whole bloody farm if he saw this." Dudley chuckled, brushing his corn-silk, blond hair out of his face, gesturing with his other hand to the floor, then to Harry, and finely to himself.

Harry frowned. "But what if he catches you helping me? Then he'll punish you and I can't let that happen, no matter what, you're too important for me to let that happen an-" "Harry, calm down, breath! nothing's going to happen just let me help you. Then you can go take a quick shower and change." After a few minutes of breathing slowly, in and out, Harry finely calmed down enough that he could talk. "You have to go back upstairs. Right now! I will not take the chance of you or Petunia getting hurt. Not again. Do you understand." Dudley let out a heavy sigh, but agreed. "Yeah, I understand. Remember you only have about an hour to clean and shower before that pathetic excuse for a human-being wakes up and continues his reign of terror." he sighed in a defeated voice, knowing there was no arguing with Harry when he went into this mind set, or as Dudley liked to call it, his 'momma bear mode'. With that Dudley quietly, yet somehow sulkily, padded up the creaky stairs as to not wake Vernon.

As soon as Dudley was out of sight Harry ran to the kitchen as fast as he could and grabbed a wash cloth and a bottle of cleaning solution from under the sink to clean the floor. As quickly and quietly as possible he ran back to the sitting room and skidded to his hands and knees in front on the massive, sticky puddle and dumped half of a gallon of cleaner on the carpet and started scrubbing it furiously, running back to the kitchen to rinse his rag every once in a while.

After a good twenty minutes of scrubbing the stain, it was finally gone. He put all his cleaning supplies away and remembering to stay quiet, he quickly ran up the stairs and into his room to grab his toiletries and some extra clothes before toppling into the bathroom and taking a fifteen-minute shower, being careful of his injuries. He scrambled out of the shower, dried himself, and began pulling on his clean clothes, that were honestly more like rags or potato sacks than anything.

As he was getting dressed he accidentally looked into the mirror, which he usually tried to avoid. His eyes skimmed over his appearance and he realized that this beating must have lasted a lot longer than he had thought. He had bruises and cuts all over his body. Not a single inch of his pail, paper-y, scared skin had been left without a mark, not even his face, which his uncle Vernon usually tried to steer clear of to avoid suspicion. Harry was much to skinny and short for his age, you could see it in the way his skin clung to his bones and how you could see his ribs, or how he was quickly approaching his fifteenth birthday and he was barely reaching 5'4" in height, which was about four inches below the average women's height. His emerald green eyes, which were usually faded at the best of times looked to be more the color of a rotting green apple. His wild pitch-black hair that has always been a messy rats nets now had chunks missing from where his uncle had taken a pair of kitchen shears to it.

Looking at his reflection he realized that he was lucky to have survived the night and that his magic was the only thing that kept him alive. Harry tore his gaze from the horrific image reflected in the mirror and finally finished getting dressed. He snagged his cracked and bent, round, wire rimmed glasses off the counter, then sprinted out of the bathroom and to his room to wait for his aunt to come and get him so he could make breakfast before starting his chores.

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*Time skip to that afternoon*
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That morning had been hell. Harry hadn't gotten a chance to wrap his most severe wounds so throughout the day they would randomly re-open and start gushing blood. Thankfully his uncle had left for work before this happened the first time otherwise Vernon would have beaten him even more. It was hard to do his work with his injuries and tiredness, but he refused to let Dudley or Petunia help and risk getting them in trouble, or at least he tried to refuse but he ended up loosing the argument because he was too weak from blood loss and malnutrition. To top it off he had accidentally burnt breakfast that morning while preparing it so Uncle Vernon was already pissed when he left for work.

Just then he heard a car pull into the drive way, the car door slam closed, then the front door as Uncle Vernon made his way into the house bringing with him the strong smell of alcohol. 'Oh no!' Thought Harry, 'He's back early! And drunk to boot!' Vernon stumbled drunkenly into the sitting room where Harry had been cleaning and stopped in his tracks, because there before him was his son, Dudley, helping Harry dust the China cabinet against the far wall.

Vernon swelled up, turning purple with rage. "What do you think you're doing, helping that useless boy with his work!" He thundered as he stomped across the room to where they stood. Harry and Dudley both shrank away from the furious man. Harry stepped in front of Dudley as a meager form of protection as Vernon reached them. Vernon grabbed Harry by the scruff and tossed him against the wall. As he hit the wall his wounds re-opened again, staining his clothes crimson with blood. He groaned and hurriedly scrambled to his feet, rushing at Vernon in a last ditch effort to stop him but Vernon simply picked up a vase from the cabinet next to him and smashed it against Harry's skull. Harrys head exploded in pain as a fresh wave of blood pored out of his scalp. His glasses flew off his face, and he fell to the floor, nearly unconscious but still able to see fuzzy shapes through the haze blurring his vision. The blurry blob that was Vernon Dursley stomped towards Dudley, raising his fist and brought it down on his cheek. Dudley fell to the ground and curled into a ball trying to protect his head and vitals while blow after blow rained down on him.

After a couple more strikes Vernon stomped over to Harry, leaving a black and blue Dudley whimpering on the floor. He grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him out side. Vernon tossed Harry out in to the backyard at the edge of the woods, which was connected to the back of the property. Harry just lay there as he heard the door slam, too weak to get up. He registered that the sun was setting in the back of his mind. 'Oh, it's a full moon tonight, how pretty." He thought just before loosing conciseness.

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     *A two hours later*
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Harry blearily opened his eyes as he slowly regained consciousness and sat up, letting out an animalistic whine from the pain. He painstakingly got to his feet and hobbled over to the back door to look in the window, not daring to even try to go inside. Through the back window he saw Vernon passed out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, Dudley huddled in the corner of the room covered in dried blood and bruises, and Petunia no where to be found. He sat there for a while and just watched, getting lost in thought.

He was suddenly snapped out of his pondering by a low growl coming from the side of the yard where the trees and shrubs were thickest. He spun and stumbled away from the tall bushes that lined that side of the yard as a form of fencing. Harry quickly backed up all the way to the other side of the yard and into the tree line to get away from a large, almost horse sized black shape that was stalking him from where the bushes and the corner of the house met.

Harry slowly backed away from the looming figure and towards the large trees at the end of the frigid yard. The shadow only followed from a distance, still snarling and snapping. Then all of a sudden it lunges and Harry, pumped full of adrenaline, took off, running deep into the woods.

Flashes of trees, branches stinging his face and arms, rocks and roots trying their hardest to trip him, the hot breath of the beast behind him hitting the goosebumps on the back of his neck. Suddenly he burst into a clearing and spun, facing what he could now see in the silver pools of moon light was a werewolf.

Harry's breath came faster, his heart beat picked up, adrenaline flushed through his veins, fear became clear on his face.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and school his features into a poker face. He could do this, Remus had taught him how to handle situations like this. He took another breath and studied the large wolf and by the look of it, it was an Alpha male, so he needed to go the submissive rout.

Harry slowly got down on his hands and knees, never braking eye contact. Then he tilted his head back, baring his neck to show his submission to the Alfa, just like Remus had told him too. The dark mahogany wolf wearily approached him and lightly at first, began sniffing along his collar bone, then he buried his cold, wet nose in Harry's neck, snuffing and snorting, trying to get a stronger whiff of his scent.

Suddenly Harry began to loose his balance so he tried to adjust his footing and a twig snapped under his foot. It surprised the Alpha causing him to go on the defensive and snap. He sank his razor sharp teeth into Harry's shoulder, mangling it. Harry let out a blood curdling scream as the wolf's hot drool mixed with his blood as it ran down his side and the venomous curse began to spread through his veins.

The spooked wolf released him and bolted into the night leaving Harry slumped on the ground. As another wave of agony washed over him he lost consciousness.
Again.
For the umpteenth time that week.
But oh well, at least he was still sane, right?

Right?

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Hey guys sorry this took so long, but I'm so thankful that y'all were so understanding and supportive. Remember to check out the story that inspired this one by ONLY-OPEN-USERNAME and check out my other stories! Alright you lot of nerds and lunatics I hope you enjoyed! Bye for now and thanks for reading.