Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

Harry snorted. "That's an understatement." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Professor? If you and my parents were such good friends… why couldn't you raise me, when they died?" Surely that would've been better than growing up with the Dursleys. Anything would've been better than that.

Lupin looked at him, a heartbroken expression in his eyes. "I wanted to," he confessed. "But there were… circumstances. The Ministry never would've allowed someone like me raise a child. And Dumbledore insisted you were in the safest place you could be— not that he ever told me where that was. He said you'd be protected as long as no one magical came near you. I couldn't even write." His voice cracked, just a little bit. Harry wondered what it would've been like — in the space of twenty-four hours, to lose two of your best friends, be betrayed by the other, and then have their child taken away from you forever. His heart twisted painfully.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, wishing there were more he could do. "For what it's worth… I think it would've been pretty cool, living with you. Better than Aunt Petunia."

The smallest smile managed to creep its way onto Lupin's face, though the hurt still shone in his golden eyes. "Thank you, Harry. That— that means a lot, coming from you."

Harry wondered what Lupin 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 would set him off crying.

"You should get going, Harry," the professor said eventually, straightening up and releasing Harry's 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 grey in his hair. "Thank you, Harry. It's good to be back on my feet."

.-.-.

Deep down, Harry 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 was getting harder and harder to bridge. If they were going home, he could just spend the whole break reading his books and practicing spells without any awkward questions. He was getting pretty good at that privacy charm, now.

Neville was going home, though, and he promised to talk to his gran about finding someone to test Harry's Occlumency progress. Harry thought he was doing an alright job, but Neville was no Legilimens, and they couldn't risk checking by letting Dumbledore root around in 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 wanted to go overly much; he just felt so cooped up in the castle. It was ridiculous — the last two years, he hadn't even known about the option of going off the grounds. Now, he felt like he couldn't survive without it.

Of course, it didn't help that any time he so much as tried to leave the castle, someone was herding him right back inside. Harry couldn't even go to quidditch practice unsupervised. He felt like he couldn't breathe, he was so sick of being monitored. Part of him wanted Sirius Black to just attack him 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 the journey back up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Psst! Harry!" A freckled arm reached out, yanking him into a hidden space behind a tapestry. He stared at the twins, eyebrows raised.

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

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

"Couldn't stand to see you moping around by yourself!" George agreed. He thrust out a hand, showing Harry… 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 said 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 him on the arm. "Don't be so insulting! It might hear you. Explain, Fred."

The pair of them told Harry the story of the parchment's discovery, finishing with Fred whipping his wand out and touching it to the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

All at once, the parchment exploded with life. Harry watched in awe as the lines of the map unfurled, revealing Hogwarts in its entirety.

"The Marauders' Map," he breathed, reading from the greeting at the top of the page. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs… why did that sound so familiar? "Who are they?"

"No idea," Fred told him.

"Previous pranksters—"

"Masters of mischief long gone from these halls—"

"Absolute geniuses, mind—"

"The map shows every castle—"

"Every passage, every person—"

inch of the

secret, every "Everything," they finished in unison. "Look, there we are." They pointed at the map, showing Harry three little dots labelled 'Fred Weasley', 'George Weasley', and 'Harry Potter'.

"We've learned everything we know about the school from this map," Fred said, voice filled with reverence.