Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

He flicked back to the beginning, curious to see if he'd recognise any other names. The very first page made his jaw drop.

Black, Sirius Gryffindor House

Top of class in Astronomy

He could hardly believe the winsome, grinning black-haired teenager in the picture was the same hollow-eyed face staring back at him from the wanted posters. Sirius Black had gone to school with his parents? Had been in the same house, even! Had his father known, even then, that he was evil?

The man looked familiar, wanted posters aside, and it took Harry a minute to realise why. The photo Hagrid had given him years ago, from his parents' wedding. Sirius Black was in it.

Sirius Black had been their best man. Harry felt sick. He quickly turned the page, not wanting to look into those sparkling grey eyes anymore. He forced himself to look for other familiar names, refusing to dwell on what he'd just discovered. If he thought too hard about it, he'd just work himself up.

Greengrass, Fenella. Lupin, Remus.

Wait.

Harry did a double-take, staring down at the boy with dark blond hair and honey eyes, a bashful grin tugging at his lips, a faint scar across the bridge of his nose.

Lupin, Remus Gryffindor House

Gryffindor Prefect

Top of class in Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts

Professor Lupin seemed far too old to have gone to school with his parents. He was already going grey! Desperate, Harry kept going, wondering who else he'd recognise in there. Who next, Cornelius Fudge?!

When he reached the 1979 graduating class, Harry slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the empty library. He vaguely heard Madam Pince shushing him from her desk, but ignored it, his heart still pounding.

Before he could really think about it, Harry was stuffing the book back on its shelf and running from the library, ignoring Pince's reprimand. The hallways were practically empty as he ran, only slowing down when he reached Lupin's office. The door was open, and the man looked up, surprise in his eyes. "Harry? Is everything alright?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Lupin stiffened. "I, uh, Harry, why don't you come in, shut the door behind you." Harry did so, staring at his professor with a look of betrayal.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew them?" The hurt was clear in Harry's tone. Lupin blinked at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My parents. You went to school with them, I saw it in the yearbook. You were all in Gryffindor together. You, and them — and Sirius Black."

Lupin's face drained of what little colour it had, and he put a hand against the desk for support. "Harry," he breathed, looking a little like he'd been shot. "Harry, I thought you knew."

"How could I have known? No one told me! No one ever tells me anything about them!" "I'm sorry, I assumed someone must'veif they ever told you about your parents at school, well— I thought you just didn't want to know." Lupin truly looked apologetic, and Harry let out a long breath, his temper beginning to cool.

"I've been trying to figure it out since the train," he said softly. "Why you seem so familiar. I knew you, didn't I? Before?"

"Yes," Lupin confirmed, heartbreak clear on his face. "Your parents… your father was one of the best friends I ever had. Your mother, too. I miss them every day — today more than most. I'm sure you know what I mean."

Harry knew all too well. Every Halloween, he woke up with a swirling hole in his gut that he didn't know how to soothe. The aching, gaping chasm where his parents had been. "Tell me about them. Please," he begged, voice cracking. Lupin stared at him for a long moment.

"Sit down," he said eventually. "I'll make some tea."

Harry did as bid, sitting in the chair opposite the desk. Instead of sitting behind the desk, Lupin chose the chair next to Harry, setting the tea tray down on the small table between them. "So what do you want to know, Harry?"

"Everything," Harry said instantly. "Aunt Petunia never says a word; I didn't even know about magic 'til I got my Hogwarts letter." He scowled for a minute, adding under his breath, "she didn't even tell me my name 'til I was five."

Lupin's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Petunia? Lily's sister?"

"Yeah, she won't ever talk about Mum," Harry replied, shaking his head. "What were they like? The yearbook said they were Head Boy and Girl. And Mum was really good at Charms?"

"Beat me to the top spot every year running," Lupin confirmed with a quiet chuckle. "Lily… I've never met a kinder person than Lily Evans, in all my life. Always willing to go out of her way to help people. The only time I ever saw her truly angry was when your father was involved." Harry looked at him, puzzled, and Lupin laughed. "Oh, it was far from love at first sight, Harry. For the first six years of school, Lily thought James was an arrogant tosspot, and honestly she wasn't entirely wrong. James, of course, thought the sun rose and set with Lily Evans and had done since the very second he set eyes on her at the sorting. But she didn't give him the time of day until seventh year."

"What changed?" Harry asked, teacup clutched tightly in his hands.

"James grew up. Stopped trying so hard to impress her. Stopped hexing Slytherins for fun." From the look on Lupin's face, Harry had a good idea of which particular Slytherin he would hex. "Drove Sirius mad at first — all his fun being spoilt because James was trying to woo a girl." Lupin didn't seem to realise what he'd said at first, but when he did the anguish that crossed his face made Harry wince.