Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

He ignored the ache in his chest, the voices of times past — of friends past echoing in his ears as he walked. Every corridor, every classroom, they all held memories. Even the good ones made him want to howl with pain.

He stopped outside a nondescript black door, taking a steadying breath before knocking. "Enter," a voice drawled, sending another stab of pain through Remus' heart. He pushed the door open, meeting stony black eyes. "Lupin." His name was spat like a curse, but he refused to flinch. If anything, it made him smile a little. Some things never changed. "What do you want?"

Remus edged into the office just far enough to shut the door behind him. Severus was sat behind his desk, a potions journal open in front of him. He didn't look particularly pleased to have been interrupted.

All throughout the feast Remus had forced himself not to look down the other end of the staff table. Now he couldn't bring himself to look away.

He hadn't seen Severus in over a decade. The other man had certainly aged far better than Remus had — going grey at the grand old age of thirty-three. Considering… everything, Severus looked good. Older, harder, his hair a little longer, but still Severus.

"Did you come here just to stare at me, or did you need something?" The words were biting, but Remus didn't avert his gaze. Severus was scowling at him, a familiar expression but for the lines a little deeper in his face. Remus tried not to think about the last time they saw each other. He definitely wasn't ready for that yet.

"I just wanted to thank you," Remus replied, his voice still a little hoarse. The last moon hadn't been a particularly pleasant one. Hopefully it'd be the last like that for a while. "For agreeing to provide the Wolfsbane potion while I'm working here. It means a lot to me." "Dumbledore insisted," Severus said, lips pursed. "Don't think I did it out of the kindness of my own heart."

Remus actually chuckled. "Of course not, Severus," he replied easily. "I know you don't have one of those." The words could've been harsh, but they were fond if anything, and it made the Slytherin's scowl deepen.

"Is that it?"

"I'm going, I'm going," Remus assured. Even after all this time, the Potions Master's sharp tongue didn't quite cut the way it was supposed to. Not to say it didn't hurt, but… it was a different hurt. "I just thought I'd stop by and let you know how grateful I am." He paused, screwing up his Gryffindor courage for the minute. "It's good to see you again, Severus."

"Goodnight, Lupin," Severus replied flatly. He looked away, jaw clenched. Remus took a step back, knowing when he'd pushed too far. It had always been a delicate game, that. He could hardly believe he was playing it again; could hardly believe he wanted to. He hadn't been sure, until he'd seen the man. But yes, he wanted to. After all these years, he couldn't quite shake Severus Snape.

He left the office, finally retreating to his quarters, letting out a sigh of relief when he stretched out on his mattress. He closed his eyes, thoughts turning to the incident on the train. To the one student he hadn't been truly ready to meet yet. He was so small. Certainly bigger than the last time Remus saw him, but still. James hadn't been that small at thirteen. Even Lily had been taller, he was prett y sure. Still, Harry Potter seemed happy enough. When he wasn't being attacked by dementors, at least.

Remus sighed, rolling over onto his side. The hollow spot in his chest ached, the faint howling in the back of his head mournful, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if that would make it go away.

"I don't know if this was a good idea after all," he murmured to himself, knowing he'd be having nightmares that night.

It was going to be a long year, full of old memories and broken pack bonds in so many ways. Remus just hoped it would be worth it.

.-.-.-.

The start of term was certainly eventful.

Between everything with Buckbeak and Malfoy, and adjusting to his new classes, Harry hardly found any time by himself to work on his extra curricular studies. True to their word, the twins had borrowed Angelina's Flourish and Blotts catalogue, and Harry had sent off for a book about all the old pureblood families, as well as one about the duties of a pureblood heir. It was so much easier to find what he wanted when he had a nice handy list of them in the catalogue. He should've done this ages ago! The night after his new books arrived, Harry left Ron playing chess with Ginny and scurried up to the dorm; if he was lucky, he'd have at least an hour before everyone started wanting to go to bed. He dug his new books from the side compartment in his new trunk, wondering which to read first.

The one about the duties of an heir was shorter, so he went with that. It was dry, as most of the books about pureblood stuff seemed to be; they certainly didn't want to make it easy for people to learn about it all!

"Harry?"

He jolted at the sudden noise, shoving his book under his pillow in a move that wasn't remotely subtle. Neville backed up a step, holding his hands out soothingly. "It's okay, I'm sorry, I thought you heard me come in."

"Sorry, Neville. You startled me."

"You're taking up your family seat?" Neville asked, and Harry blinked. Neville gestured at the book.

"What? How do you know about that stuff?"

Neville's answering smile was somewhat crooked. "Neville Longbottom, Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom, at your service," he declared, bowing in the way Harry had read was formal when one addressed another. Harry gaped.