Moons of Future Change By Phoenix_kiss02

Chapter 1 ~ Once a pone a midnight fright

'The wolf moved forward. There was only three meters between it and the boy. All it had to do was strike the boy, just once and its job would be done.

It could die in peace now, no longer having to feel the pain of what it was. As for the boy. the boy would feel the pain the wolf had suffered.

He would change. Forever being different. Tainted. A miserable killer, although it had never harmed a human in it's inter life. Now it was its time to parish. and it wanted another life to suffer as it had.

The wolf moved closer to its victim. The boy moved too, showing both fear and sympathy for the wolf.

The child knew? But how was this possible? The wolf thought it had chosen carefully for whom it would change. But nonetheless, the boy knew. It would have to strike soon.

The child was unarmed and defenseless. He had no chance to escape.

This young boy would soon know what it was like to be a Werewolf, A servant of the everlasting moon.

What it felt like to be truly mistrusted and feared by all that both loved and hated him. It was time. Without any lasting hesitation, the wolf struck'

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July 27th ~ 12:01

Harry Potter bolted upright in bed. He felt feverish and was shacking all over. The dream was vivid in his mind. He knew that there was a meaning to this dream. Was it omen or prediction?

If only that crazy old bat, Professor Trelawney could 'actually' teach Divination, then maybe he could tell the difference. He had to write to Dumbledore and tell him of this dream.

Harry got out of bed and walked over to his desk. He opened his inkbottle, to find it empty. There was also no blank parchment either.

As he walked to his trunk at the foot of his bed, Harry felt a burning pain shot through his shoulder as he past into the light streaming through his open window.

He cried out in agony as the pain increased. It felt as if he were on fire. As quickly and quietly as he could, Harry rushed down the hall into the washroom.

He tore off his shirt and stood staring into the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Was he ever shocked by what he saw!

He had the worlds worst suntan, many horrible bruises he had received from Uncle Vernon in the past month, but most of all four star-like scars riding on his left shoulder blade.

*How did I get these? * Harry wondered, gingerly rubbing the marks. To his returning surprise they still felt fresh.

But before Harry could think of anything else, sleep over took him. Stumbling back to his room, he got into bed.

Having forgotten about the strange incident in the bathroom and the letter he was supposed to write to Professor Dumbledore, Harry fell asleep instantly.