Harry Potter:Raised by Wolves

Snape stood in the doorway, holding a smoking goblet.

"Lupin. Potter," he greeted curtly.

Lupin jumped to his feet so quickly he nearly knocked over his teacup.

"Ah, Severus. I was just showing Harry my grindylow."

He gestured toward a tank in the corner of the classroom, one that Harry hadn't even noticed until that very second. Snape's expression remained unreadable.

"Fascinating," he deadpanned. "Make sure to drink that immediately, Lupin. I have an entire cauldronful in my personal lab."

"Yes, I'll come by for more when I need it. Thank you, Severus."

Lupin took the goblet from the dark-haired man, who gave him one last inscrutable look before sweeping out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

Lupin glanced down at the goblet and grimaced before knocking it back in one go.

"Ugh. Pity he can't make it taste any better."

"Professor, what—?"

"Oh, not to worry, Harry. I have an ongoing medical condition, and Severus—ah, Professor Snape—was kind enough to brew the only potion that helps. I'll be right as rain."

He set the goblet down and gave Harry a reassuring smile.

"I'm very lucky to be working with him, you know. Not many Potions Masters are up to the task—it's a rather tricky brew."

Harry's mind flashed back to the yearbook.

"He was top of your class."

Lupin smirked. "Indeed he was. Though Lily almost beat him to it. I thought he'd have a heart attack when he found out how close it had been."

"You were friends?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

Lupin nearly dropped the goblet.

"Friends? Oh, I don't know if I'd say that." He hesitated before adding, "Things were… complicated, Harry. Gryffindors and Slytherins rarely got along, even less so after we left school."

Unbidden, an image of blond hair and silver eyes flashed through Harry's mind. Heat crept up his cheeks. He understood that kind of complicated.

Lupin sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry, but perhaps we can continue this conversation another time? I'm afraid it's taken rather a lot out of me."

Harry stood as Lupin set the goblet aside. The professor placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"I'm always happy to talk to you about your parents. I'm sorry I didn't sooner—I thought someone already had. I… well, I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me."

He gave a small, self-deprecating shrug.

"But since that's not the case… you used to call me Uncle Remus once, Harry. I'm not asking you to do so again, but… perhaps we could be friends?"

Harry studied him—the first person who had ever offered to tell him about his parents, who had truly known them. A man he might have grown up calling Uncle Remus, loving like family, if things had been different.

"I'd like that," he said at last, offering a hesitant smile.

Lupin beamed.

. . . .

By the time Ron and Hermione returned from Hogsmeade, their pockets bulging with sweets, Harry was already back in the Gryffindor common room.

"How was your day, Harry?" Hermione asked as she settled onto the couch beside him.

"Oh, y'know, quiet," he said with a casual shrug. "Did some homework."

He could have told them about his conversation with Professor Lupin, but he stayed quiet. To do that would mean explaining the yearbook, Sirius Black, and why he had been looking through the yearbook in the first place…

It was easier not to.

He was already keeping too many secrets from them—what was one more?

"Anyway, enough about me. What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

Ron emptied his pockets into Harry's lap, showering him with all sorts of sweets as he and Hermione gushed about the wonders of the wizarding village. Harry kept up his fake smile the entire time, unwrapping a Chocolate Frog just for the distraction. They sounded like they'd had the time of their lives.

"Hey, I'll be right back. Forgot my jumper," he muttered when they all got up to leave for the feast, quickly darting toward the dormitory stairs.

Up in his room, he leaned against the bedpost and took a deep breath.

They didn't mean to rub it in. It wasn't their fault he couldn't go.

He should be happy they were on good terms—it was an improvement from having them yell at each other about Crookshanks.

"Harry."

He jumped, but it was only Neville, watching him with a knowing look.

"Alright?"

"Yeah, just needed a minute."

He grabbed his jumper off the bed just for an excuse, missing the way Neville reached into his robe pocket.

"Here, got you something."

Neville held out his hand. In his palm was a small silver dish, inside which a miniature bonfire lay stacked, waiting to be lit.

"Figured, since you couldn't join us tonight…"

Harry took the little fire, glancing up at Neville with perhaps the most genuine grin he had worn all day.

"Thanks, Nev. This is really great."

Neville blushed, ducking his head. "You're welcome. Now come on, I'm starving."

. . . .

Harry lay awake for a long time on the floor of the Great Hall, surrounded by snoring students in identical purple sleeping bags.

He couldn't wrap his head around it.

Sirius Black had broken into the school.

The same Sirius Black who had been his father's best friend at Hogwarts.

The same Sirius Black who was now trying to kill him.

The same Sirius Black who was the reason his parents were dead.

And the same Sirius Black who Snape clearly believed Lupin was helping get into the castle.

Harry didn't believe that for a second—no one could fake the grief he had seen in Lupin's eyes earlier that day. He was still heartbroken by his friend's betrayal.

Harry thought back to the other night—how even Malfoy had seemed worried about him wandering around after curfew.

He had been so sure Black wouldn't be able to reach him then, so confident in his safety.

But now?

Now everything had changed.

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