Chapter 1: Once Bitten

"Alright students, stay in your pairs as you explore, and stay on the path! Don't forget to check off any different kinds of birds that you see."

Harry Potter pushed his taped glasses up his nose and glanced around. He was excited to be in the New Forest, and looked to his partner, Jeremy Meyers. They were both in Mrs. Smith's Year 2 class, and while Harry was eager to begin Jeremy appeared to be anything but.

"Come on, let's get started!" Harry said, taking up his notebook and pencil. The notebook had been a gift to Dudley from Aunt Marge, but the older boy had declared that the pink binding was too girly, and thus it had been given to Harry. It wasn't even used!

Nervously, Jeremy glanced over at Dudley and Piers."Yeah, um, just a minute."

Harry sighed. Of course. Jeremy didn't want to be seen with him, because then Dudley and Piers might decided that they could add a game of pound Jeremy to their game of pound Harry. Mrs. Smith was nice enough, but she looked to be about a 100 years old and was having a hard time keeping up with her energetic class. She occasionally disciplined Dudley, but considered him a "sweet little angel" and never really put a stop to his antics as long as he did them behind her back.

Speaking of antics, she was now distracted with two other students, and Dudley and Piers started making their way towards Harry. "Um, right, I'll just get started then, see you Jeremy!"

Harry darted off, running along the path. He soon heard the pounding of feet behind him on the path, and veered into the trees. He ran beneath the spreading leaves of the oaks, his heart racing.

"Oi, come back here, freak!" Dudley snarled behind him.

Harry ignored his cousin and ran on, not eager for them to catch him up. Soon their footsteps faded as his overweight cousin fell behind, and Piers gave up the chase as well, unwilling to go on alone on. Harry continued on for a bit, panting slightly. He sighed, knowing he'd left them all behind. Finally, a day of peace! He looked in his knapsack, and allowed himself a small smile. They'd been given school lunches, and Dudley had made Harry carry his. He had two meals, and perhaps he'd eat them both. Maybe Dudley's misery at losing his lunch would be worth a week in the cupboard.

Except then his Aunt and Uncle would be furious, and likely give him no dinner or breakfast. Harry groaned. Why did he have to go home? He should live in the forest, like Robin Hood, wild and free and without stupid relatives. He kicked at a rock, and glanced a round. Suddenly, his heart thumped in his chest.

He was lost. Panicked, Harry tried to think what to do. He was alone in the woods, but he'd come...That way! Yes, he was certain. Harry scrambled forward trying to get back up the slope he'd come down. As he scrambled his ratty trainers slipped on the mossy soil, and Harry fell forwards. A rock raced up and smacked his forehead, and Harry knew nothing more. His body tumbled down the slope, coming to rest under a fallen log.

When Harry awoke a short time later, he felt weak and dizzy. Blood was crusted and matted in his unruly hair, and his stomach rumbled. Blearily he reached for his glasses, scrambling for them unsuccessfully in the thick leaves. He began to sob softly. After a moment his groping hands fell on his russack. He eagerly reached in and pulled out his lunch. The apples were bruised and battered, but Harry quickly ate one regardless. Ignoring the fact that the sandwiches were squished flat, Harry greedily gulped them both down. After a few moments, he realized he actually felt somewhat peaceful. Reaching into the pack again, Harry pulled out a juice box and drank it down. He then grabbed Dudley's battered thermos and drank the milk within slowly.

Feeling much better, Harry shakily stood. The world was blurry and fuzzy without his glasses, and Harry still felt rather disoriented. He began to make his way up a slope, but it was the wrong one. Instead of making his way back out of the forest, he wandered deeper in. It was positively the wrong thing to do. If he'd stayed put, he would have been soon found as searchers were already looking for him.

Instead, Harry wandered further into the forest, sipping at his thermos and feeling sorry for himself. He didn't even realize when he approached the anti-muggle wards around a particularly thick grove of old beech trees. All Harry felt was a slight prickling sensation on his skin, but he was feeling so miserable he didn't think about it. He shuffled through the trees and past a line of purple flowers. Even if he'd had on his glasses, he wouldn't have recognized the carefully tended plants, or understood their significance. Within the grove, Harry found a small stream where he refilled his now empty thermos. Exhausted and tired, Harry sat down in the shade of a willow.

"I'll rest for just a moment, I have to be close to the buses, now," Harry told himself. Soon however, he succumbed to sleep.

"You shouldn't be here!"

Harry awoke with a start. He looked around in a panic. It was dark, and the air was full of the night noises of the forest. This wasn't his cupboard, where was he?

"You really shouldn't be here! Oh, Merlin, why are you here!"

There was a blob, and Harry squinted. He suddenly realized it was a person. "Um, hello?"

"Get away!" the person babbled. "Run, you idiot! Get away! This is my grove! I'm supposed to be here, but you're not, no one's supposed to be here! How did a muggle kid get past my wards!"

Harry shook his head, confused. "What...what do you-?"

The shape suddenly sprang forward, shoving at Harry. "Run you idiot! Moonrise is any time now! Get out, get out of my grove! You have to run!"

The man's voice was scaring Harry, and he clutched at his knapsack. "Who are you? Where am I? Don't touch me! Where are the buses, what are you-"

"It doesn't matter! Run, just run! It will- Oh! Oh Merlin! RUN YOU IDIOT!" the shape stumbled away, panting in agony.

Silvery light was now illuminating the grove. Harry squinted, trying to figure out where to go. He started to back away from the man, but then stopped. A wail of pain filled the grove, and the man's shape began to change. Harry couldn't make out the details, but he could tell something was very, very wrong. For a moment, he froze in fear, but then he turned and ran, ran for all he was worth away from the shape.

A howl that froze Harry's blood filled the grove, and Harry glanced back to see that there was no longer a man shape, but the shape of an enormous monster with glowing amber a scream of terror Harry broke into a dead sprint heedless of his direction. Panting, Harry tried to run even faster as he heard heavy thuds and snarling growl behind him. Harry was almost at the tree line when something slammed into him from behind and knocked him flat. Sharp claws and fangs bit into Harry's right shoulder, rending his flesh and breaking bone.

Harry screamed again, and a flash filled the grove. With a yip of pain, the monster was blasted back. Harry tried to get to his feet, but his left leg was in tatters and his shoulder was a bloodied mess. Sobbing with fear, he scrambled with one hand and leg desperate to get away. Behind him he heard the snarl again, and Harry knew, just knew, that he was dead. Every last ounce of strength in his body made Harry surge forward It wasn't enough. Once again the monster was upon him, biting at his feebling shielding arm and clawing at his chest. Harry curled into a ball, giving up all hope of survival.

"Here, Dawlish here!"

"Pilum argentus!"

Another flash filled the grove and the beast was thrown back in a yip of pain.

"Bloody buggering hell, he's got a kid!"

"Merlin's balls! Pilum argentus!"

Footsteps raced forward. "Are they dead?"

"Greeley is out for the count. Doesn't matter, he'll be executed anyway."

"I meant the kid, Dawlish you moron!"

"Oh."

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't react, his whole world was nothing but pain. "Kid's alive, but not for long. We have to get him to Saint Mungo's. He's bleeding and in shock."

A sudden wave of vertigo passed over Harry, and his world faded to blackness.

vVvvVv

John Dawlish appeared in the Saint Mungo's emergency ward, carrying the bleeding child they'd found in David Greeley's grove. The poor thing was probably a muggleborn, that would explain the burst magic they'd detected in the grove. It was a good thing he and Sam Savage had decided to investigate immediately, otherwise the kid would be dead now. Greeley probably hadn't meant to harm the kid, but it was too late now. Somehow the kid had found his warded grove deep in the forest and wandered in. Any other night and he would have been fine. But not tonight.

"Werewolf bite victim! We need immediate help!" Dawlish barked out.

A medi-witch ran over and took the child from Dawlish, and he stepped back, rubbing his face. A moment later Savage appeared with a crack.

"Damn it all Sam, this is going to be so much paperwork," Dawlish complained. "How the bloody hell did the kid even find the grove? It's warded!"

"You're a git, Dawlish," Savage growled. "Greeley's going to be executed and that kid is infected for life. And here you are complaining about paperwork."

Dawlish grunted. "He's just a muggle, probably." He saw the look Savage gave him and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine! A muggleborn then. It's a tragedy but no great loss. Maybe it's better if the kid doesn't make it."

"Get stuffed, you asine twit," Savage snapped and stomped forward after the trauma team.

Shrugging, Dawlish raised his wand and apparated away to get started on the paperwork.

vVvvVv

"Merlin's beard," Edward Tonks breathed. He turned to the nurse on duty, Katherine Baker. "Do you know who this is?"

Baker nodded, her face a mask of horror, her eyes locked on the lightning bolt scar. "It's him. It's the Boy-Who-Lived."

Ted turned back to his work. They weren't out of the woods yet. He'd stopped the bleeding, but the patient, oh God, the patient, had lost a lot of blood. The wounds were cursed of course, and could reopen at anytime. Ted got back to his work. He couldn't fail, not this time. Please God, don't let me fail.

vVvvVv

"Well he's not here. The little freak got lost in the woods. Stole Dudder's lunch and ran off. Ungrateful little sod."

With a great effort of will, Albus Dumbledore did not hex Vernon Dursley into a million little pieces. His alarms had gone off 40 minutes ago, and the blood wards around 4 Privet Drive had cascaded into sudden failure. He'd immediately hurried out of Hogwarts, with only a quick message to Minerva, and apparated away.

"What woods, exactly, Mr Dursley?" Albus asked, his voice light, but his posture indicating he would brook no equivocating.

"The New Forest. Class went on a school trip. They're probably still looking for him. Brat's likely hiding himself."

"And why are you not with them, looking?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes flashing. "Are you not concerned for your nephew's well being?"

Vernon shrugged. "He'll come back when he's hungry. Until then, the police will handle it. I'm not scrambling around in the woods looking for him in the dark."

"Very well. I require one of Harry's possessions. Something precious to him. A toy, a picture, a treasured object. Now, if you please, Vernon."

"Listen here, there'll be none of that funny business in this house! I'll not have you-"

Albus let his magic loose, just a little bit. Power radiated off of the old wizard, causing Vernon to stumble back as the air crackled with power. "Now, Vernon." Dumbledore repeated, letting a hint of his anger into his voice.

"In...in the cupboard," Vernon sobbed.

Albus stepped forward, the door to the cupboard snapping open. He didn't miss the locks on the outside, nor the ratty pad where Harry obviously slept on the floor. There would be a reckoning for this. Harry was to have been safe here; these people were his blood and should treasure him. But the wards had failed after a sudden burst of power, and Harry was obviously not safe. Dumbledore reached in and pulled out a dented toy soldier. He waved his wand and felt the toy turn into a portkey. Without even looking at the still sobbing man at his feet, Dumbledore activated the portkey.

With a pop, Dumbledore arrived in a frantic hospital room. He blinked, looking around him.

"Get the idiot out of this room, Baker! I'm still working," A familiar man's voice bellowed.

Stepping forward, Dumbledore raised his wand and the ashen faced nurse stepped aside for him. "Thank you, Ms. Baker. Mr. Tonks, perhaps I can be of assistance?"

Ted Tonks looked up in shock to see Albus Dumbledore there, but he quickly regained his composure. "Headmaster. I've done what I can for the boy, but he's been badly mauled. Werewolf attack. We've got him on blood restorers, but it's touch and go. Werewolf bites are nasty things."

"Indeed." Albus reached deep into his magic and wrapped the child on the bloodied table healing spells. Power seeped into the wounds, restoring the lost blood and mending ruptured organs. Exhausted, Albus stumbled backwards. This would have to do.

"I take it you know who this is, then," Healer Tonks said quietly, putting a steadying hand on Albus' shoulder.

"Indeed. Does anyone else know?"

"No, just Baker and myself. I don't think the aurors who brought him in had a clue, they just thought he was a random muggle or something. He was attacked by Greeley. Must have stumbled into his grove."

Closing his eyes, Albus let out a shuddering breath of pain. Poor Greeley. He'd been such a kind lad, bitten only two years after graduation. He'd secluded himself in fear of ever biting anyone and passing on his curse. But he'd never been a good student, and his best wards were likely not good enough. How Harry had gotten there in the first place though….

"This must remain a secret," Albus said firmly. "No one can know what has happened."

Baker and Tonks exchanged looks. "But sir, this is Harry Potter, isn't it?" Baker asked quietly. "He's...well, he's the Boy-Who-Lived. How could this happen to him?"

"He became lost on a school trip. He must have wandered into danger and been bitten. Beyond that, I know not."

Taking a roll of bandages, Ted began to wrap Harry's forehead, obscuring his distinctive lightning bolt scar. "Well, we'll keep this hidden as long as we can, but it will get out, Albus. Someone will know."

Dumbledore raised his wand. "Forgive me, but no one will ever know he was even here."

Baker looked up, frightened and confused. "What do you-"

"Obliviate!"

It was finally morning. Remus Lupin crawled forward, his hands shuddering with the pain. It hadn't been an especially rough full moon, but it hadn't been an especially good one either. He sighed. He hadn't had an especially good full moon in six years. Not since….No, best not to dwell on that. James was dead, Peter was dead, and Sirius...well, he was as good as dead to Remus.

He managed to push open the door to his cottage, and with a groan hoisted himself inside. He lay there for a moment, panting. Finally, he dragged himself forward and onto the pad on the floor he'd prepared. With a gasp of pain, he started to put his last bottle of dittany onto his wounds. There were not too many, and he managed to save half the bottle. Groaning, he lay down on the pad, breathing hard.

What was he going to do? He'd had to quit his last job as a magical dock worker three days before. They'd started to suspect after only three months. He had little money saved, and no idea what he'd do next. Time enough for that later. He lay his head down and started to drift off to sleep.

There was a knock at the door. "Go away, I'm ill," Remus groaned.

"I know, my boy, I know. I'm so sorry, but I need you now. I've brought some potions for you and I'll do what I can. There is little time."

Remus managed to sit up. That was the voice of Albus Dumbledore. He hadn't heard it in years, but he'd recognize the old headmaster's voice anywhere. "It's unlocked."

Dumbledore stepped inside, and Remus couldn't help a gasp of surprise. He looked old, older even than his 105 years. His features were drawn and ashen, his eyes filled with tears and his cheeks red; the headmaster had obviously been weeping.

"Headmaster, what's wrong?" Remus winced in pain as he forced himself to stand on shaking legs.

"Gently, gently Remus. Here, take these."

Remus gratefully accepted the pain potions and strengthening draughts. He guzzled them down, ignoring the awful taste. After a moment, Remus stood on shaky legs, holding his ratty blanket to his naked body. "Sorry, I'm not at my best at the moment," he said with a half hearted attempt at humor.

Albus gave a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. He handed over a basket. "Breakfast and some new robes. Don't protest, just put them on. I'll explain once you are decent." With that, the headmaster stepped outside and closed the door.

What on Earth had happened? Remus dressed quickly, snarfing down the cold scones without bothering to spread them with the butter from the basket. He drank the tea from the magical thermos with quick gulps, not even realising it was just as he liked it, just as his mother had used to make it, with lemon and a bit of honey. He quickly hopped out of the cottage, still pulling on his boots.

"Headmaster, Dumpledore, please, what's happened? Why are you here? I haven't seen you since...well, since Lily and James' funeral."

Dumbledore sighed, taking off his half moon spectacles and rubbing them on his robes. "I'm afraid I have terrible news, and must ask of you a great and terrible burden."

Remus' heart sank, and he felt the fringes of panic. There was only one person left alive he cared about. "It's not Harry, is it? He's not-"

"He is alive," Dumbledore interrupted, placing his spectacles back on his nose. "And thank Merlin for that. But there was a terrible accident last night."

Remus frowned in confusion. "If he's hurt, wouldn't someone else be better to ask? I grant you I'm not bad at healing spells, but Madam Pomfrey or Saint Mungo's would be better. If he's in danger, well, I mean, I'm not awful with a wand, but today I'm a bit out of sorts. Shouldn't you-"

"Remus, Harry is now like you."

The words hit Lupin like a silver dart to his chest, and he staggered backward, resting his back against the door frame. "No."

Dumbledore stepped forward, putting a comforting hand on Remus' shoulder. "I can explain later. Right now, Harry needs you. I have him at Hogwarts. Poppy is seeing to him now, but he will wake soon. Please, Remus. He needs you. James and Lily need you. I am sorry I have hidden him from you until now. Though you never asked to see him, I knew it would have been James and Lily's wish that you did, and yours as well though you would never have articulated such a desire."

It felt like the very earth beneath his feet had crumbled away, but Remus took a steadying breath and stood shakily. "I...Alright. I'll come. I'll do whatever I can. It...It wasn't-" He couldn't finish the sentence. Had he...He couldn't remember, when he was Moony it was so hard to-

"No. It was not you. I will not tell you who it was, for I have erased the whole incident from existence as best I can. Only you, myself, and Poppy know for now. This must be kept secret. If the surviving Death Eaters or anyone else were to find out, there would be a terrible price to pay. A price none of us can afford to pay. Here, take hold of this."

Dumbledore held out an old boot, and Remus numbly stretched his hand forward and grasped it. He felt the familiar tugging sensation, and there were outside of Hogwarts gates. Remus looked up, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. This place had been home to the best years of his life, the only time since he'd been bitten that he had ever known true happiness. Since that awful night in '81, he'd rarely felt any joy. And now….He swallowed as he started after Dumbledore on the path.

Despite the dire circumstances, Remus couldn't help the memories that came flooding back, and a faint smile grew across his face despite his pain and worry. There was where the old Whomping Willow stood, a place of many adventures. There by the lake, where he had gone on his first date. There on the steps, where he and James had let off those dungbombs that had gotten them a month of detentions. More memories flooded his mind, and Remus felt tears come to his eyes.

"I didn't want to come back like this," he rasped, looking around the entrance hall as Dumbledore strode towards the hospital wing. It was early still, but students were already filling into the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I had hoped you'd return as part of the staff one day my boy," Dumbledore said ahead of him, causing Remus to stumble. Dumbledore paused and looked back, a bit of the old twinkle in his eyes. "Oh yes, you are more than a bit good with a wand, Remus, and you are so good with the younger students. I remember how you tutored all the young Gryffindors, how it was you who always helped Peter with his homework while James and...well, let us not speak of such things now."

Remus nodded grimly and continued up the stairs after the headmaster, the lingering nostalgia dampened by the grave nature of his visit.

The hospital wing was just as Remus had remembered it, right down to the presence of Madam Pomfrey, though she was a little greyer and older now than in Remus' memories.

"Madam Pomfrey. It's been a long time."

Pomfrey nodded, her expression one of sadness. "I would say it's a pleasure to see you again Remus, but I think we both know it's not. Thank Merlin I didn't have any other patients just now. He's back this way."

His feet felt like lead, but Lupin forced them to work and made his way forward. Behind a curtain which Pomfrey held aside lay a sleeping boy. His head, right shoulder, left arm, and chest were all swathed in bandages. Remus felt his heart stop, and he rushed forward, stretching out a hand towards the child, but unwilling to touch. He could never touch, it was too dangerous.

"It can't really be him, can it?" Remus croaked. "He's so small and skinny. Those wounds, how could he survive? Who did this to him?"

"Again, I will not say who did it, only that if they could remember it, they would deeply regret it. It was a tragic accident. And yes, Remus. This is Harry Potter. The son of your best friend. And now a werewolf."

Pomfrey bit back a sob, turning away. Lupin didn't bother. His hand stroked the head now; he could no longer harm the boy, not now. Tears streaked down his face, and sobs wracked his still aching frame.

"Oh God, James, Lily, forgive me. I should have been there! Should have protected-"

A hand rested on Lupin's shoulder, and he leaned forward away from the touch, still sobbing.

"It was my fault, Remus." The headmaster said, his voice as weary as time itself. "My responsibility. My eternal shame. I thought I was protecting Harry from danger by hiding him, by removing him from our world. Instead, my negligence lead to a greater harm than I could possibly have imagined. The only saving grace is that Lily protected her son, one last time."

Tears streaming down his face, Lupin turned. "What...what do you mean?"

"Lily sacrificed herself for Harry. It was her act of love that saved Harry from Voldemort that night, and her love that imbued Harry with a measure of protection, protection anchored by blood that would have given Harry immunity to anything Voldemort could have done until he came of age. Don't look at me like that, I have always believed that Voldemort was not defeated that night, only banished. He will return, Remus. That is the burden I place upon you. He will return, and he will come for Harry."

"But Lily's protection-"

"Saved Harry last night once again. The first bite from the werewolf would not have infected Harry; instead it blasted the poor creature away from him. But it did not kill the werewolf; blood magic is weak against the wolf due to the nature of that particular curse, for it too is found in the blood. The second attack...the second attack did curse Harry. And in doing so it broke the protection. The blood wards are gone, having been devoured by the spirit of the wolf. Harry is now defenseless."

Lupin swallowed. "But he survived."

"Indeed. The timely intervention of the aurors, due to an alarm ward the werewolf had set, managed to drive off the werewolf in question and they brought Harry to Saint Mungo's. I have obliviated them and the healers who treated Harry, as well as the werewolf that attacked him." Dumbledore sank onto a bed, his hands falling limply to his side. "I have done all I can for Harry for now, but there is still the question of his safety, and where he will stay."

Before Dumbledore could continue, a growl escaped Lupin's throat. "He stays with me. He will be safe with me. I will protect him with my own life, and he's in no danger from my own wolf. Not now."

A faint twinkle gleamed in Dumbledore's eye, but it quickly vanished and he let out a sigh. "I was hoping you would be willing to do so. Know that you yourself will now be in danger, a target for any of Voldemort's own followers who still survive, and for Voldemort himself."

"I'm always in danger, Dumbledore. I'm a werewolf. It's barely even a crime to kill one of us. The same now goes for Harry."

"I know, my boy. I know. I've tried to reign in the discrimination in the Wizengamot, but with Greyback still on the loose and his history in the last war, it has been difficult. There are few with any sympathy for werewolves left in Britain."

"It's a bloody shame," Poppy snapped, causing both men to look at her in shock; they'd nearly forgotten she was there. "It's not their fault, not for the most part. With the exception of monsters like Greyback, most werewolves are simply victims with a horrific disease that no one suffers from more than them. And you can hardly say that Greyback is a monster because he is a werewolf, men like him are monsters no matter what sort of curse they bear." She suddenly flushed and looked down. "That's what I think, anyway."

"Well said Poppy," Dumbledore said quietly. He sighed once more. "I am afraid I must depart. I leave Harry in your capable care, Remus, Poppy. I must rest now, but know that I will be taking a far more active role in Harry's protection. We will work out details of it all later, but right now he simply needs someone with him who loves him when he wakes."

With that the Headmaster departed, but Remus had eyes only for Harry. He continued to stroke the sleeping child's hair, his mind muddled and confused. James' boy. Lily's child. He had never planned on having children, never planned to have a family. He hadn't wanted to burden any other with his curse. But oh Merlin how he had longed for a pack, no, that was the wolf speaking, a family, like he had had with the Marauders. And now there was Harry. Cursed as he was cursed. It was something he would never have wished, a desire he would never even have felt, but here it was. Now that Harry had his own inner wolf, Remus would be with him. He would be by Harry's side all the way, protect him from all others. He would be the papa wolf.

And no wolf father allowed any harm to befall his child.

Authors Note:

Special thanks to FloreatCastellum at DarkLordPotter for their help in revising this chapter.