Summary: After Harriet went through an irrevocable change that shakes the foundation of all that she knew to be true, Sirius Black went in search for something Harry only knows as J.D. He went missing. Remus followed his steps, only to disappear too. Now it's Harry's turn to join the hunt, Merlin help them all... Fem!Harry/Clay, heavy doses of Jeremy and all around pack mentality.

Set: After all Harry potter books, very early season one of bitten (Mixture of show and books for bitten).

Warnings: Fem!Harry, Werewolves, bloodiness (later on), profanity, Au, bent Cannon, Slash side pairing,mentions of abuse, death, drinking, violence. - Stop reading now if you do not like any of these.

No Beta! All mistakes are mine.

~Prologue- I've got you~

Harriet Potter had never quite felt like she did right then, curled and wrought on her bed at Grimmauld place, drenched in sweat, linen blankets pooled and tangled around her feet, pushed and kicked away because they felt like sandpaper grating against her sensitive goose-pimpled flesh.

Grimmauld place was silent, apart from the occasional groan that escaped her cracked lips and sore throat. Sirius and Remus were out for the evening, likely in a cosy restaurant if Remus had his way or a dubiously seedy pub if Sirius had his. All Harry knew was she missed their easy banter that would normally drift up from the floorboards beneath her, a soft lullaby to sing her to sleep. She wished she could sleep now, especially when the tremble in her limbs turned to full spasms and cramps.

Her aching teeth sank into the tender flesh of her cheek, holding back the scream that wanted to burst forth through ripped vocal cords. She felt the strange urge to chew and gnaw at the zingy copper taste that bubbled onto her tongue, to savagely lap and lick at the thick substance trickling down her throat, easing that soreness before it came blazing back to life tenfold.

Another wave hit her, contorting her chest and posture, squeezing her, tightening around her like barbed wire, muscles, hot and hard searing her bones. However, no matter the amount of pain that ran rampant through her, she couldn't scream, couldn't shout for help, couldn't even whimper out a name, her voice box letting out nothing but hollow whimpers and groans into the night. She felt truly alone then, left under the crashing waves to weather the onslaught of pain.

In retrospect, it had all started out innocently enough. The urge to run was the first sign, something Harry had already been doing since the end of the greatest wizarding war her kind had ever seen. A jog every morning helped keep the nightmares at bay, helped expel the pent up energy that sizzled through her blood, helped stop those flashes of dead bodies she saw on closed eyelids every time she bloody blinked.

Sirius, as odd as it was, had taken to cooking. Remus had started making crockery, as terrible as it was, though she nor Sirius told him such. Hermione took up yoga. Ron, well, Ron had started to enjoy the muggle sport of boxing after Hermione and she had introduced him to it one late autumn Saturday. How different and foreboding could the urge to run be compared to everyone else's coping mechanisms? A lot, apparently. Especially if you happened to be Harriet Potter.

The next hint had been the insatiable hunger that mangled her gut. Unfortunately, it was another easy thing to explain away for Harry. She had grown up on rations, left-overs dumped in the bin by the Dursley's she would sneak out and find during the dead of the night, scoffing down as much as she can as the family slumbered away upstairs. The Horcrux hunt hadn't exactly been a bounty of feasts either. So, when she began asking Sirius for seconds and thirds, her guardians had only been too happy to do just that without a question asked. Sirius had rejoiced over a hissing frying pan of bacon and eggs, cracking more into the pan with a squelch and fizz as she sheepishly asked for more, joking how she was finally putting some meat on her bones. The subsequent growth spurt was simply put down to finally eating right, the weight of the war now gone leaving her to grow as she should have from the very beginning.

Of course with the growth spurt and extra intake of food would lead to more energy than she had ever felt before, a prickling at the back of the neck that told her to just… Do. That was just logical common sense. Common sense if you were anyone other than Harry with her patented type of luck. Anyhow, why would she complain when it made Teddy so happy?

The boy was boisterous on a good day, on his worse he was a downright hellion and Merlin knows Sirius and Remus were not in their prime any more, leaving Harry to keep up with the whirlwind. She had never gotten to simply play when she had been a child, doing so with Teddy, precious Teddy, well, it gave her that little chunk of missing childhood she didn't know she had missed.

Then the tingling had come a week ago, right at the base of her spine, a little knot of squirming in her tail bone. It was a hard thing to explain without one having felt it personally, the best Harry could describe to it was broken Christmas lights embedded in her skin, still crackling to life with the throbbing in her spine. It set her on edge, a precipice, one foot dangling over the ridge, waiting to drop… Into what? She had no clue.

However, faced with the peace and tranquillity of a life she never thought she would have, an actual home she loved dearly in Grimmauld place with snarky Sirius, restful Remus and tittering Teddy, people she would give more than an arm and leg for if the need ever called for it… A family she had only ever dreamed of in that dingy cupboard of hers, she hadn't wanted to crush that, disturb the still pond with what she had put down to a straightforward case of the flu.

They had all been through so much, dammit, Harry, herself had died. Sirius had fought his way back to the waking world through the veil, something he never spoke about but Harry could see the haunting ghosts flickering in his gunmetal eyes. While Harry had not been fast enough to save lovable Tonks, something that still weighed heavy on her concious, nightmares of fingers just out of reach, she had managed to fling Remus out of the blast. And although it left him grieving a lost mate, Harry, as bad as it sounded, couldn't be that sorry when he would live to see his son grow and Teddy, her own godson wouldn't be sanctioned to a fate she had lived, that of a war orphan.

However, to be completely fair, she would have never let Teddy live the life she had, not while she had breath in her lungs and a pumping heart. So, faced with this hard earned peace, you would forgive Harry if she thought to weather the sniffles without disturbing anyone. Be that as it may, as it always did when Harry was brought up, nothing was as simple or as expected and this? This was definitely no seasonal allergy she was dealing with.

The two brilliant but annoyingly idiotic men had finally come to terms with their feelings and had planned an outing together that night, like hell would Harry ruin that for them when it had taken so many years to get to this point, especially when she had, while underhandedly, pushed the two to this outcome with sly comments here and there, a broken promise of meeting them some place, only to leave them alone together. They had been obnoxiously dancing around each other for months and Harry couldn't take much more, so yes, she may have had a part in it, but the outcome would have been the same without her presence, only it would have taken even more years to get to that point. So sue her for wanting to see her godparents, her guardians happy for once.

The tingles had mutated to an itch that day, an itch that ran marrow deep, leaving Harry to idly scratch and claw at her skin with an absent mind, brushing off Sirius's and Remus's worried glances with porcelain smiles, as fake as a doll's. She had soldiered on, planning to get Teddy to bed and sleep the whole cold off, waving the couple off at Grimmauld's door, a babbling Teddy perched on her hip, promising everything would be fine for the few hours they had planned to have together.

The wrenching pain had not come until Teddy was snoring away in bed, tucked safely in, the moon casting the room in a pale wash. She had only been in bed an hour herself, tossing and turning, sleep evading every attempt she tried to grasp at its slippery tendrils. Now, however, in the throes of what felt like her own body trying to consume itself, twisting and churning she thought she may-haps… Probably… Definitely should have made an appointment at St. Mungo's

Crack.

Harry groaned as her neck twisted sharply, the action burying her face into the plush velvet pillow beneath her, now feeling like pine needles to the skin of her flushed face, damp hair plastered to her back and forehead. Heaving and gagging made her curl further in on herself, climbing bile charring the soft flesh of her throat, although thankfully, nothing came out. Harry didn't know if she had the strength to move and she really didn't want to lay in her own vomit. Merlin… She felt like she was dying.

It wasn't a troll that would kill her. It wasn't a three-headed dog. It wasn't a sixty-foot Basilisk. It wasn't Dementors. No dragon, mermaid, maze or tournament. No Voldemort to send her off with a cruel remark and sick grin. It was some unknown feverish ailment that made her feel like she was made from spun sugar, weak and fragile. That is what was going to ship her off to the afterlife. Just her bloody luck.

No!

This would not be the day she finally died. She wouldn't allow it to be. She had not lived through what she had, been through what she had, seen what she had, done what she had to do, to die alone, scared, weak and helpless in bed. There was only one way she would die and that would be standing, staring death in the face or she would not die at all.

White knuckles glistened in the moonlight as they relinquished their hold on the sheet beneath her, joints cracking as she forced them to clasp the edge of the bed, groaning deeply as she rolled onto her stomach. The breeze from the open windows did nothing to quell the heat picking up in her core, hell-fire of flames flickering through her body.

With a heave, gag and groan, Harry slipped to the edge of the bed, determined to get to the flu network in the downstairs parlour to ring through to St. Mungo's, to Hermione, to Molly, to anyone who could take this torrential pain away from her breaking body. With one last push, her arms gave out from underneath her, leaving her to tumble off the messy bed with a thwack and crash against hardwood flooring, her head whacking off the floor harshly, sending the world around her into a free fall spin. None of it registered in her foggy brain, hazed by insurmountable pain, not when in competition for her attention with the pain grinding like rusty gears through her very being, her core, the damned red cells that made up her body.

Suppressing everything but the urge to survive that reared its head, Harry tried to stand only for her legs to quake and bend unnaturally, refusing to comply with her screaming mind, abandoning her to drag herself across the floor, forwards and towards the slither of whiskey coloured light spilling through the bottom crack of the door, the lone thing she could focus on, her eyesight failing when the light she saw began to pulsate and grow in flashes, her nails squawking and scratching grooves into the wood as she hauled herself forward inch by inch.

She was only a foot away when her arms snapped and bent to her chest, her body careening and twisting upon itself, limbs jerking and straining, tearing and cracking in the most sickening way, spine arching and elongating and finally… Finally did that horrifying scream locked in her lungs wrenched its way to open air. The world around her flared to life in multi colour, only to flicker to black at a migraine inducing intervals, along with the excruciating pain, forcing her to cram her eyes closed, teeth bared and nose wrinkled. The world around her faded away, leaving only that pain in its wake, leaving her to its abyss.

Her scream was lost to her ears, her name was lost to her mind, everything but that pain gone, taken from her under the tsunami that hit her solidly as she felt like she was being ripped apart atom by atom, reassembling into something unfathomable. She was lost completely in it when the pounding of footsteps rang out from the hallway, the light flooding the room when the bedroom door was flung open, banging like a gun shot against the wall, two silhouettes she knew all too well pausing in the door frame, haloed by the light.

"Harry what-… Harry? Harriet!"

Sirius made a dash for Harry's crumbled form, squirming and warping on the floor, just outside the bubble of light cast from the hallway. However, he only made it two steps when Remus's arm shot out, blocking him, holding him back from his agonized god-daughter. Flickering his gaze to Remus, he noticed the arched flare of his nostrils as he took in a deep drag of air, moist and poignant, deep frown blocking out all light to his eyes. That, however, didn't stop the amber flash of Remus's eyes glowing momentarily. Obviously whatever he had scented had struck a cord in his brain, the animalistic part, his voice gruff and haggard as he snarled out one word.

"Wolf."

Sirius shook his head, scoffing slightly. He didn't care what Remus smelled, Harry was obviously in trouble. Bulldozing passed Remus, Sirius made his way to Harry's contorting and writhing form, falling to his knees beside her, his hand just about to brush her shoulder, to drag her to him, readying to bark an order at Remus to get a medi-witch when he saw it. Through the curtain of her limp and damp hair, he saw her eye, pupil blown wide, iris expanded, no white at all in her eye socket, the skin around it rippling and re-constructing. The sound of crunching bone rattling out dropped his gaze to her jaw, just in time to see it dislocate and morph. No… No… Harry had never been bit… It couldn't be… He was still frozen when he felt Remus's arms wrap around his torso, dragging and yanking him backwards, Remus's normally placid and calm voice, the voice of reason most often, turned rushed and panicked. An inhuman snarl blistered out.

"Don't get too close! That was just a warning… But it doesn't smell right…"

Sirius was left prone at the door thresh hold,grasping onto Remus, eyes wide, bewildered as the screaming grew deeper, biting, savage snarling taking up rhythm only to be broken by the tempo of barks and painful howls. Finally the crescendo ended with the sound of tearing fabric and crackling bone, black fur sprouting from once peaches and cream skin. After what felt like a lifetime, huddled at the door, it abruptly ended with a plod of a mass hitting the floor and ravenous panting gulping in air.

"Remus… Harry's not bitten… What… How-"

"Shhhhh."

Remus's arms tightened around him, one arm unwrapping to grasp a hold of his wand, readying as a floorboard creaked out from the darkness of the room. One creak, two creaks, three creaks. Then, finally, an ink black snout pressed into the bubble of light surrounding them, not misshapen like Remus's own when he transformed, followed by a paw and then another before the wolf's eyes glittered into being. Brilliant emerald, intelligent eyes, not that of what either Sirius or Remus had suspected when the thought of werewolf had rang through their minds.

The eyes of a human, not a beast drowned in hunger and madness. That thought was only solidified by the whining that rumbled through the wolf's body, ringing like a morning bell through the air as it slinked into the light fully, ears drawn back and pinned down to scalp. The onyx wolf was the same size as a normal wolf, no hybrid mutations, disjointed limbs, patchy hair like that of a werewolf… Like Remus. The wolf pressed down to the floor, belly fur scraping the floorboards as it crawled forward, towards them.

Remus finally glanced out of the open window, seeing the crescent moon shining in the sky. How? Werewolves needed a full moon to transform… How had Harry-… Without being bitten… Being female as well, they just didn't make the change, nor survive the bite alone… Merlin knows Fenrir had gruesomely tried… But the smell, it couldn't be anything else… While Remus was distracted by his jumbled thoughts, Sirius fought his way out of his stronghold, shakily raising his hand up, palm to the ceiling, towards the wolf, watching avidly as the cold, wet nose brushed his fingertips before nuzzling into his palm, a drawn out whine echoing around them.

For Sirius, that was all the confirmation he needed as he met the wolf half way, arms open wide, knees unforgivably banging against the floor. The wolf, as trembling as it was, slid closer, whimpers and whines dripping out. Sirius knew those eyes, knew them no matter where they were or what skull they were in. It was Harry. Harry in all ways.

"Oh, Harry. It's alright. It's fine. You're fine. You're okay. I've got you… I've got you."

The wolf… Harry pressed herself closer to Sirius as he wrapped her up in an embrace, the whimpers slowing and quieting but never stopping. Feeling a warm palm his shoulder, Sirius glanced up and over, spotting Remus's worried and drawn face, gaze flickering between him and the wolf that was obviously Harry… Somehow Harry.

"I'll… I'll get a fire started in the study with some Fire whiskey, I think we're going to need it to figure… This out. Come down when you're both calm. It looks like it's going to be a long night."

Sirius nodded, his hand going up to squeeze at Remus's reassuringly, watching as he disappeared from view. Still, in that dusty room, calmly running his fingers through Harry's fur, the whimpers finally stopping, Sirius repeated the same thing over and over again in hushed tones.

"I've got you, we'll figure this out."

Should I continue?

A.N: Please be gentle, I'm a bit uneasy to be honest in actually posting this, it's been a very long time since I've posted anything, life and writers block coming into play and well, it's been a bit of a bumpy ride XD, but I wanted to give it a go and well, here it is! I hope you enjoyed it.