Harry Potter:Raised by Wolves

Harry wondered what Lupin had meant—that "someone like him" wouldn't have been allowed to raise Harry—but he didn't dare ask. Not when Lupin looked like the wrong word might set him off crying.

"You should get going, Harry," the professor said eventually, straightening up and releasing his shoulder. "You'll miss lunch at this rate."

"Right, yeah," Harry murmured. "I'll see you later, Professor. And I'm glad you're feeling better."

Lupin smiled sadly, the light through the window highlighting the gray in his hair. "Thank you, Harry. It's good to be back on my feet."

.-.-.-

Deep down, Harry almost wished Ron and Hermione had gone home for Christmas. He felt awful for thinking it—they were his best friends, and he'd barely even seen them so far this term!—but so much had changed, and he was keeping so many things from them. The gap between them was getting harder and harder to bridge. If they were going home, he could spend the whole break reading his books and practicing spells without any awkward questions. He was getting pretty good at that privacy charm now.

At least Neville was going home. He had promised to talk to his gran about finding someone to test Harry's Occlumency progress. Harry thought he was doing all right, but Neville wasn't a Legilimens, and they couldn't exactly test it by letting Dumbledore rummage through his brain.

He was a little more morose than he let on when they went to Hogsmeade the last weekend before Christmas break. Not because he was particularly excited about going—he just felt so cooped up in the castle. It was ridiculous. Just two years ago, he hadn't even known about the option of leaving the grounds. Now, he felt like he couldn't breathe without it.

Of course, it didn't help that every time he so much as tried to leave, someone was herding him right back inside. He couldn't even go to Quidditch practice unsupervised. He felt suffocated, sick of being monitored. A small, reckless part of him just wanted Sirius Black to attack him already and get it over with.

Deciding to enjoy his time alone and work on some spells, Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione in the entrance hall and started making his way back up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Psst! Harry!"

A freckled arm shot out and yanked him into a hidden space behind a tapestry. He blinked in surprise at the twins, raising an eyebrow.

"What's the matter? Need an alibi for something?" he asked, eyeing them suspiciously as if he could guess what kind of prank they were about to pull.

"Nah, but thanks for the offer," Fred said with a grin. "We just wanted to give you an early Christmas present."

"Couldn't stand to see you moping around by yourself!" George agreed, thrusting out a hand. In it, he held… a blank bit of old parchment.

"I don't get it," Harry said flatly.

Both twins beamed.

"This, dear Harrikins, is the secret to our success," they announced in unison, clearly expecting him to be dazzled.

It still looked like a blank bit of old parchment.

Harry said as much, and George mock-swatted his arm. "Don't be so insulting! It might hear you. Explain, Fred."

And so they did—telling him the story of how they'd discovered it, the way it had transformed their Hogwarts years. Fred whipped out his wand and tapped the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

At once, the parchment burst to life. Harry watched, awestruck, as ink spread across the page, unfurling a detailed map of every inch of Hogwarts.

"The Marauder's Map," he read aloud, eyes catching on the names at the top. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Why did that sound so familiar?

"Who are they?" he asked.

"No idea," Fred admitted.

"Previous pranksters—"

"Masters of mischief long gone from these halls—"

"Absolute geniuses, mind you—"

"The map shows the entire castle—"

"Every passage, every secret, every person—"

"Everything," they finished in unison.

"Look, there we are." They pointed at the map, showing three little dots labeled Fred Weasley, George Weasley, and Harry Potter.

"We've learned everything we know about the school from this map," Fred said reverently.

"And now, we're giving it to you," George declared.

"It's time to pass it on to the next generation," Fred agreed.

"Your need is greater than ours," George added. "Not only can you use it to sneak around at night—"

"It also shows you every secret passage into Hogsmeade!"

The twins quickly gave him a rundown of the best routes, and Harry grinned at them incredulously.

"This is amazing," he declared, watching their grins widen.

"We know," they said smugly.

"All you have to do to clear it is tap it and say Mischief Managed," Fred instructed, demonstrating. The parchment cleared instantly, once again appearing blank. George pressed it into Harry's hands.

"Use it well, little brother," he said solemnly, winking. "We'll see you in Honeydukes."

"Thanks, guys."

The twins offered him extravagant bows, doffing imaginary top hats.

"Our pleasure, Heir Potter," they said cheekily, vanishing into the passageway before he could respond.

Harry looked down at the blank parchment in his hands and grinned.

Time to see what Hogsmeade was all about.

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