Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

"Perfect. I want to get something for Scabbers, too. He's been off since Egypt," Ron added, patting the lump in his front pocket. They all got to their feet, Harry helping Hermione with some of her many books.

"Are those new boots, Harry?" Hermione asked, making him glance down and realise he was wearing the dragonhide boots from Silverling's. He grimaced, hoping Ron didn't notice. "Yeah. I got a bit bored around here, did some shopping. Dudley's shoes are never gonna fit me."

"They're very nice," she complimented. Luckily, Ron was already on his way to the menagerie.

"Are you two coming or not?" he called impatiently. Harry and Hermione hurried to follow, Hermione's books banging into their knees.

Perhaps Harry would buy her a bag from Twilfitt and Tattings for Christmas.

.-.-.-. They returned to the Leaky Cauldron with Ron's rat tonic and Hermione's new cat — or maybe small tiger, Harry wasn't sure — and both Ron and Hermione in foul moods. Harry was already thinking longingly of his solitary days gone past. Of course, the rest of the Weasley family were there when they arrived, and Harry was sucked into the chaos like he'd never left. It was good to see them again, but it was all a bit much after so long by himself.

Harry was glad to head back to his room after dinner, sleepy from both the food and the social interaction. He could hear the muffled sounds of Ron and Percy finishing their packing next door, and just as he went to unbuckle his boots, his door swung open. Fred and George slipped in, quickly shutting it behind them. "Hiya, Harry, old chap. Don't mind if we hang out in here for a minute, do you?" Fred asked, sitting on the bed beside him while George took the other side.

"What've you done?" Harry asked flatly. Both twins put a hand to their heart as if struck.

"Us? Do something? Never," they said in unison.

"You're not going anywhere til I've found my badge!" Percy's indignant voice drifted through from next door. The twins shared a look, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"…We might've stolen Percy's Head Boy badge," George admitted.

"But we've been improving it," Fred added, rummaging in his pocket. "Look!" He showed Harry the red and gold badge, which now read 'Bighead Boy'. Harry snorted.

"He's gonna kill you," he remarked, but didn't toss the twins out.

Gathering up all the miscellaneous things that had sprawled all over his room in his three week stay, Harry forgot about the book he'd been reading before bed until Fred picked it up off the bedside table. "'Wizarding Traditions and Pureblood Rites', hmm?" he read the cover, brows furrowed as he flicked it open. Harry's heart stopped. "Not your usual bedtime reading."

"I, uh," Harry started, frantically fumbling for some kind of excuse. George smirked, plucking the book from his twin's grasp.

"Is little Harrikins lear ning about his place in the world? Noble and Most Ancient Heir of Potter," he added teasingly, making Harry flinch.

"How do you know about that?"

"Not like there are any other Potters about, is there?" George replied. "We just didn't think you knew."

"The, uh— the goblins told me. When I went to Gringotts," Harry said eventually, praying the twins didn't dig any deeper than that. Surely that was a normal thing, right? The goblins informing someone about their inheritance.

Neither redhead seemed perturbed by it, nodding as if it made total sense. "They're probably keen to have the Potter vaults open again," Fred mused. "Don't worry, Harry," he added, clearly sensing the fear rolling off the younger boy. "We won't tell Ron. Our little brother's a mite sensitive about these things."

"We can write to Bill and Charlie, if you like," George suggested. "They're the ones doing all the lordship stuff in our family. Although Weasley and Prewett might be Sacred 28, but we've let a lot of the traditions die, so I don't know how helpful they'd be."

"Sacred 28?" Harry had seen references to that in his books, but never had it actually explained to him.

"The 28 wizarding families who were true purebloods back in the 30s," Fred explained with a roll of his eyes that showed exactly what he thought of that. "As decided by some ponce who wrote a book about it. There's others, of course the Potters are as pure as it gets, but they're not on the list because the author had it out for them. Said they don't count because they're not technically English pureblood. As if they're any less English than the Shafiqs or the Shacklebolts. But it's basically a bunch of old-blood wizarding families. You can probably find a book about it if you like. A better book than the original; there's bound to be one that tells you all of the old-blood families. All the Wizengamot seats. You can owl-order it to school."

Harry, who had been trying to find a book exactly like that, looked up hopefully. "I've never owl-ordered anything before."

"Oh, it's easy," George assured. "You just get the reference number off the catalogue, owl off with the money and they'll send it back to you. Angelina's got a Flourish and Blotts catalogue, I'm sure she'd let you borrow it at school."

"And if you ever want to order something without putting your name on it," Fred said. "In case it's not something little Harry Potter should be looking at," George supplied knowingly.

"We'll be happy to put our names down for you," Fred finished, grinning. He glanced at his twin. "People have given up questioning what we buy."

Before Harry could answer, the door swung open again. Quick as a flash, George had the book shoved behind his back. "There you are, boys," Mrs Weasley greeted, sounding harassed. "Have you seen Percy's badge?"

"Not since he was flashing it around earlier, Mum," Fred said earnestly. Mrs Weasley eyed her sons with suspicion.