A/N: This story will contain Slash, and MPREG. If you don't like it, then don't read this fic.

This fic is rated M, as in MATURE, because of many juicy things that you will encounter. These things will include slash, swear words, a history of abuse, evil Dumbles, the occasional naughty joke, bitching, and some juicy, juicy lemons (which you will find on HP Fandom).

DISLAIMER: Harry Potter and Co. are only mine to play with. I do not own them. At all. The only things that are mine are the plot, the original characters, and the creature information.

This is a Creature!Fic people! It is also more than a little bit different from Canon.

This is a WORK IN PROGRESS. The rate of upload will depend upon my muse and my work schedule.

All reviews, questions, and constructive criticisms are welcome!

*This is the first re-written chapter. More information after the chapter.*

Chapter One: Happy Birthday to Me

-31st July-

Harry lay on his bed, curled up on his side as he tried to ignore the throbbing skin of his back. Vernon had punished him brutally. All he had done was drop a stack of plates when Dudley pushed him over, but it was his fault, the freak's fault. Dinky Duddydums could never do wrong, and Petunia had simply slapped Harry hard across the face, and handed him to her obese husband. Vernon had never gone this far before, it would have been a punch or two, maybe a kick to the ribs if he'd done something particularly offensive. But not a belt lashing. Not a beating with punches and kicks until his body had felt think one big bruise. The flesh of his back was torn and bloodied, and it was difficult to breathe. At least three of his ribs were cracked, and three others were deeply bruised.

Vernon had never hurt him to this degree. Since Harry's third year, Sirius had been his silent protector, the idea of a mass-murdering Godfather who wouldn't hesitate to kill the Dursleys if something happened to Harry. But Sirius was dead. Gone. And Dumbledore had told the Dursleys. There was no silent protector now.

Dumbledore. The name left a bitter taste in Harry's mouth. The leader of the Light, the bright-clothed, twinkle-eyed Grandfather of Hogwarts. The man who had ignored Harry's pleas to stay with Remus, and had forcibly taken him from Platform Nine-and-three-quarters. The man who had imprisoned him with the Dursleys without apology, and had left with a flourish after a few stingy sentences. 'It's for your own good, Harry my boy. Tom may be gone, but there are still Death Eaters at large. The Blood Wards will keep you safe.'

The Blood Wards may have protected Harry from the monsters outside the house, but not from the monsters within.

Harry flinched away from the memory, and a hiss of pain escaped his gritted teeth as his flinch re-opened some of his cuts. Drained of energy, his mind hazy with pain and blood loss, he lay there. He looked for something to do until the fickle creatures of dreams caught him in their embrace. So he stared at the clock. In thirty seconds he was going to be sixteen.

Twenty-nine…

Harry looked back over the past year, from the dementor attack at the very start, to the Department of Mysteries at the very end. Flashes of faces and places lit his eyelids, grins and tears bled into one smear of colour and emotion.

Twenty-seven…

He remembered the awful summer after the third task, the month he spent at the Dursley's, locked in his room with barely any word from anyone. How his only company had been the demons of his nightmares and back of his Uncle's hand. But it hadn't been as bad as it was now. He remembered the trial at the ministry, the disappointment of Ron becoming Prefect and not him, even though he didn't want the extra responsibility.

Twenty-five…

Then he remembered his talks with Sir Cadogan the knight, the mad portrait he had befriended. He remembered that evil, toady bitch of a Headmistress. Too bad the Centaurs didn't kill her.

Twenty-two…

He remembered staying at Grimmauld Place, the laughter, the sense of family. He remembered Sirius. Oh Sirius. The stupid, stupid man. He had left Harry and Moony alone, with only each other to face the world with.

Twenty…

He also remembered the Cho Chang debacle. The flutters, the soggy kiss, her near-constant tears and whimpers because of Cedric. It was what had made him swear off women for life. Now, Harry was a man's man. Literally.

Eighteen…

He missed the flying that he could have done, if the Toady Bitch hadn't gotten him banned. He really missed Quidditch. The freedom he felt when he was in the air was unprecedented. All of his worries and fears melted away, and the world shank until it only held Harry, his beloved broomstick, and the sensation being completely in-tune with the power of the air and magic that surrounded him.

Fifteen…

He remembered-

Harry lost his train of thought as a fiery spike of pain shot up his spine. The fire spread through his nervous system, setting ablaze everything it touched. Harry was burning. His vision blurred, then was cut off as he shut his eyes tight against the flames when they reached his head. His magic began to thrum, becoming tangible in the air around his body. He felt a concentrated heat at the base of his spine, and a lesser heat pooled under his eyelids, at his hairline above his temples, and an odd tingle among the flames over his scalp. More concentrated heat pooled at the tips of his fingers and toes. Harry's muscles shrieked and his bones creaked. The flames began to pulse in time with his magic, a deep, tribal beat that made Harry's already racing heart sprint.

Then, with a final, brutal, pulse, the fire died.

Harry let out a yowl.

It was guttural and animalistic, angry and pleading at the same time. It started off deep in his chest, rising in tone and volume until it leapt from his mouth.

Harry felt very odd, and his whole body ached.

He slid of his bed bonelessly, his heart still frantically beating in his chest.

One…

'Happy Birthday to me' Harry thought. Only he would get some freaky pain-fest as a birthday present. A wry smile tried to appear in his face, but his face didn't co-operate. Instead, his whiskers twitched.

'Whiskers? What the fuck?' Harry was starting freak out now.

Harry jumped to his feet and then froze suddenly. He was standing on his feet. All four of them.

He looked down and his heart almost leapt out of his chest. He wasn't standing on his feet. He was standing on his paws.

They were covered in thick, glossy black fur. He shifted his weight onto his right forepaw, and picked up his left. He could feel the raw power in his back and arm muscles as he lifted his arm… Well, leg, and turned his paw upside down to look at what would have been his hand, palm-side up. Instead he saw six soft, dark brown pads separated by soft-looking black fur. He flexed his 'fingers', and the four digits at the top of his paw flexed too.

'Okay, so I have paws now.' Harry felt oddly numb and detached. 'Do I have claws too?'

Harry flexed his paw again, and then stretched it out. As he flexed his paw when it was stretched out, five strong, razor-sharp claws were unsheathed. The sensation was very odd, and yet pleasurable. Harry liked his claws.

Placing his left forepaw back onto his bedroom floor, Harry decided to experiment some more.

He stretched out his forelegs, bowing his back, and straightened out his tail. His tail! Harry whipped his head around to the side, and yes he did indeed have a tail. He wiggled it around a bit, and started to purr with his excitement. It was a melodious sound that vibrated in his chest and throat.

But his excitement didn't last. The reality of the situation crashed down on Harry like a bucket of ice water. What if he couldn't change back?

With that thought, the heat started again in his spine. But now it was more of a gentle warmth than a fierce flame. What had been harsh pulses were now tingles. Apparently practise made perfect. When he had returned to his human form, Harry stood up. He still felt odd, but at least he looked human now. He grabbed an oversized T-shirt to put on, having ripped out of the ones that he had been wearing before. It covered his body to mid-thigh.

'Well, I may as well see what else has changed' Harry thought. He was still in a state of shock.

He made his way to his bedroom door, stretching out his aching muscles along the way. He sent a silent 'thank you' to whoever was listening- he had taken to casting silencing charms and charms that would announce someone's presence outside his door before he went to bed. Because of this, the Dursleys would still be sleeping soundly. When he tried the door, it wouldn't budge. His so called 'family' had continued to routine of locking him in his room. They had even added a new padlock at the start of the summer.

But Harry was only delayed by the locks. He was very good at wandless magic, and, because it was untraceable, the Ministry couldn't do anything about it. So he focused on each lock in turn and thought 'Alohamora'. Hermione couldn't say that he never learned. After the last lock was opened, Harry tip-toed past Dudley's room to the bathroom. It wouldn't do him any good if he woke up his 'family'. Once inside, he locked the door, cast a silencing charm, and flicked on the light.

Then he looked at himself in the mirror.

Harry had grown. He now stood at 5'8", two inches taller than he had been the night before. He was slender, but in a very different way from before. He had lost a lot of weight over the past weeks, and yesterday he could have counted his ribs from across the room. Now his sides were smooth, and his stomach was muscled instead of being concave. His hips were slightly wider and more rounded than before, accentuating Harry's slim waist and now shapely bottom. The rest of his body was covered in a light layer of muscle, his once bony shoulders smoothed over, his arms and legs shaped elegantly.

In the dim light of the bathroom, Harry's skin seemed to glow. It was still his pale-gold tan that it been before, but now his complexion was completely clear, without a blemish other than his scars. His scars themselves had faded. The criss-crosses over his back were barely noticeable, as were the various small scars on his arms, legs, and torso. His 'I Must Not Tell Lies' scar was barely there, as was his basilisk scar. Fawkes had been able to save his life, but the scar had stayed, a golf-ball sized puncture wound on both sides of his right arm, just above the elbow. The burn scar on his right shoulder had faded, as had the knife scar on his left forearm. His famous lightning bolt was barely there.

He still had the tail.

Harry started to panic. What if he was stuck with a tail? What if it never went away? He was enough of a freak already.

With his distress his tail started to flick from side to side, creating a 'swishing' sound as the air was pushed about by the ebony-furred appendage. Harry couldn't look at it anymore, so he glanced up, at met his eyes in the mirror.

He had the eyes of a cat.

This was not good.

His eyes were not the only things that had changed on Harry's face. His cheekbones were more prominent and his jaw was softer, creating a perfectly heart-shaped face. His nose was slightly smaller, and his eyes were slightly larger, with longer, thicker eyelashes that swept the skin below his eyes softly when he blinked. His lips were fuller, now flushed with a pretty dark-pink colour, shaped in a generously pouty cupid's bow.

The emerald green of his eyes before had been concentrated, creating a shade of green so deep and vibrant that it took his breath away. His pupils were vertical slits, midnight black in the sea of green that were dilated wide with his fear.

He had to try and be normal again.

His hair had grown. What had been his messy, relatively short hair-cut was now a mane of glossy, silken tresses that curled softly to his waist. Two small, black, cat's ears poked out of his mane above his temples. He flexed his fingers, and smaller versions of his previous claws were unsheathed, replacing his nails.

Harry started to hyperventilate, his breath coming in short shallow pants, his were eyes wide and his fanged teeth were on show as he tried to catch his breath.

Harry had to be normal.

He had to be normal!

HE HAD TO LOOK HUMAN!

With that last thought he suddenly stopped hyperventilating. His breathing slowed and deepened, and his heart diminished its sprinting pace. A warmth started to collect at the tips of his fingers and toes, at the base of his tail, under his closed eyelids, over his scalp, and over the areas above his temples. The areas tingled for a moment, and then when he opened his eyes, he was 'Human Harry' again.

His skin was still as clear and healthy as before his recent change into 'Human Harry'. His face was just as heart-shaped and cupid-bowed, his hips and muscles had retained their shapes, and he was still as tall. But now he was… Camouflaged.

After a moment or two of gazing at his reflection, Harry turned off the light, disabled the silencing charm, unlocked the door, and crept back to his bedroom.

When he crossed the threshold of his room, he stopped to gaze upon the scene that it portrayed.

His bedroom carpet was ripped by what had obviously been his claws. His walls and furniture looked battered and worn, his magic must have affected them. His bed was torn and burnt, stained with blood and sweat.

Harry sent a silent 'thank you' to whatever entity that could be watching over him, and strengthened the one-sided silencing charm that had become a permanent feature of his room at night. Then, with a few waves of his hands and a few muttered 'Reparo's and 'Scourgify's, he restored his room to order.

The last thought in his head, as he snuggled down in his bed to get some well needed sleep, was something that had become his internal catch-phrase.

'I love magic.'

He would sort everything else out later.

To be continued…

Post A/N: This is one of the many new chapters that I have been working with over the past months. I am planning to update every week on a Thursday. The seven-day gap will ensure that the chapters are to the best standard possible, and they will probably end up longer that the usual three-ish thousand words. Please be patient and tell me what you think of the changes.

I have edited and added-to many of the chapters. Other chapters I have sent to the scrap heap and re-written, and there will be a few completely new chapters where there were gaps.

Please ask me any questions you have in either a review or a privet message. Also, please know that I always value the thoughts and opinions of my readers. Any suggestions are welcome too.

I would like to thank all of you that supported me through the earlier drama, and I specifically thank Starlight Massacre for her co-operation and understanding.

Bye for now,

Thornesedge.