Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

"You… really?"

heir

"Really," Neville confirmed. "My gran's got my proxy right now, but she'll pass things to me as soon as I'm old enough. Oh, this is great, Harry! The others will be so happy to hear you're taking up your heirship; we weren't sure, you see, when you never said anything."

"Wait, no!" Harry went wide-eyed in alarm. "You can't tell anyone, Neville." He didn't even know who these 'others' were, but if Dumbledore got wind of any of it…

"Harry, whatever Ron's told you, it's nothing to be ashamed of," Neville replied, sounding defensive. "The House of Potter has a great history, and being an heir is a huge honour."

"No, it's not that, I—" Harry faltered, letting out a sigh. Surely he could trust Neville, right? Especially if he was also an heir. Maybe he'd be able to help Harry out. "Come here."

He scooted up the bed to make room for Neville to sit opposite him, then closed the curtains, putting up one of the privacy charms he'd learned from A Hundred Spells Every Wizard Should Know. Neville's eyebrows rose. "What I'm telling you, Neville, you can't tell anyone, okay?"

Neville nodded, brow furrowing in confusion. And Harry told him — all about his trip to Gringotts, and the block on his magic, and who he thought was responsible.

"I've been trying to learn everything I can since I found out," he said, gesturing to the books. "Bought a load of books. But there's so much I don't know, and I can't make things too obvious or Dumbledore will know I found out about the block."

"He blocked your family magics?" Neville's voice came out in a horrified whisper, his face pale. "He could get sent to Azkaban for that! That's so many different kinds of illegal!"

Harry winced. "Who's gonna believe me over him, though?" he said plaintively. "Even if they did, he'd find some way to convince everyone it's all for my own good, or some rot."

"That's awful." Neville squeezed Harry's shoulder supportively. "Do Ron and Hermione know?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't be sure they won't go to him over it. Or he might get to them somehow anyway." He couldn't speak quite so plainly as he wanted to, but Neville got the idea; he couldn't trust them yet. "I'll write to my gran," Neville assured. "She taught me everything I know, she can help you too. Obviously she won't know all the stuff that's specific to the Potter family, but there's probably a book in your vault about that. Or for, uh, any of the other families. Merlin, Harry, Slytherin? That's insane! And Black, too — the House of Black is one of the oldest known pureblood lines in the world! How'd you get that one?"

"No idea," Harry said with a shrug. "I guess someone down the line named me their heir. Do you really think your gran could help?"

"She'd be honoured," Neville replied. "She loves all that stuff — can't wait til I'm old enough to get more involved. She can keep a secret, too." Neville paused, having a thought. "Harry, have you ever heard of Occlumency?"

"Can't say I have," Harry replied, running the strange word over in his head. "What is it?"

"It's a form of magic, just about every pureblood kid is taught it growing up. It protects your thoughts. See, there's this magic called Legilimency — that's reading peoples' thoughts. Getting into their minds, seeing their memories, all that. Occlumency is the prevention of that. It forms shields around your mind so that no one can get in and steal your secrets."

Harry's jaw dropped in horror. "People can read my mind?" "Not everyone," Neville hastened to assure him. "It's a really rare skill. But Dumbledore is famous for it. There's rumours that Snape is really good at it, too. If you're going to be keeping secrets from Dumbledore, you'll want to learn Occlumency. I'll write to gran tomorrow, get you some books."

"Do you know it?"

"Oh, yeah, I learned before I came to Hogwarts," Neville said. "Every family needs to be able to protect their secrets. I'm not amazing at it — if someone was really trying, I probably wouldn't be able to keep them out. But, well, no one has needed to really try. Not yet, anyway." "But what if Dumbledore's already read my mind?" Harry thought of all the times that could've been possible — during mealtimes, or even in lessons. How close did someone have to be to read minds?

"Legilimency needs eye contact. As long as you don't look him in the eye, you should be alright."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Don't look him in the eye. He could do that. That also explained why the book said eye contact was a show of trust. "Thanks, Neville. God, there's still so much I don't know. It's gonna take me forever to catch up."

"You'll get there, Harry," Neville said supportively, squeezing his shoulder again. "D'you mind if I, uh, go? Only I've got homework, and…"

Harry belatedly realised his wards were still up, and waved his wand to cancel them. He pulled his curtains aside, and froze when he saw Ron sat on his own bed beside him. The redhead eyed the pair suspiciously. "What've you two been up to?"

Harry and Neville shared a look. "Studying," they both said eventually, Neville heading back towards his own bed. Ron stared at Harry for a bit longer, but let it go.

"Whatever. Harry, d'you think Scabbers has lost more weight? It's that bloody cat of Hermione's, he's got it out for him I swear." Scabbers was laid out on the bedspread in front of Ron, and Harry had to admit he'd definitely seen better days. Privately, he thought that was more due to him being old than anything Crookshanks was doing, but Ron wouldn't hear a word of it.

"Just keep up with the rat tonic," he replied. "I'm sure he'll perk up."

Ron didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't say anything more as Harry started getting ready for bed. Harry only felt guilty for a minute for excluding him. Ron wouldn't understand.