Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

"And now, we're giving it to you," George told him. "It's time to pass on to the next generation."

"Your need is greater than ours," Fred agreed. "Not only can you use it to keep out of trouble on your little late night wanders—"

"It shows you all the secret passages into Hogsmeade!"

The twins gave him a run-down of all the options, and Harry grinned up at them incredulously.

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

"We know," they agreed.

"All you have to do to clear it is tap it and say Mischief Managed," Fred instructed, doing just that. The parchment cleared quickly, becoming blank once more. George pushed it into Harry's grasp.

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

"Thanks, guys." They both offered him extravagant bows, doffing imaginary top hats.

"Our pleasure, Heir Potter," they said cheekily, disappearing from the passageway before he could say anything. Harry looked down at the map, blank in his hands. He grinned.

Time to see what Hogsmeade was all about. .-.-.

He didn't look for Ron and Hermione when he slipped out of the Honeydukes cellar, covered by his invisibility cloak. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell them about the map, yet. Ron would probably get jealous that the twins gave it to Harry and not him. Instead he just wandered, alone and invisible, thinking fondly of his time back in Diagon Alley. He could sort-of see what the fuss was about, but there wasn't anything truly remarkable there. He supposed just the freedom to go there without adults was enough.

He took a brief look in the Three Broomsticks, but it was far too crowded for him to sneak around invisible without getting bumped into. Besides, he couldn't exactly order a butterbeer. He saw Ron and Hermione in there, hands wrapped around their mugs, and smiled softly to himself . They seemed to be having fun.

He looked around the shops for a while, imagining what he might buy if he weren't hiding under his invisibility cloak. Perhaps he'd come back another time. Some of the things in Honeydukes did look delicious.

He was back in the castle before dinner, writing his Charms essay in the common room when Ron and Hermione returned, none the wiser to his little adventure. They practically ran towards him. Hermione's eyes were red, like she'd been crying. "We need to talk to you," Ron said gravely, dragging him over to a secluded corner of the common room. Harry looked at them, bewildered. Quietly, Hermione explained to him the conversation they'd overheard in the Three Broomsticks, where Fudge and the teachers told Madam Rosmerta about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. Harry scowled before he could help himself what right did they have to be bandying private information about like that in the middle of the pub? — Then he remembered this was supposed to be brand new information to him, and made himself look horrified. It wasn't hard; he still was, every time he thought about Black too much.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione murmured. "We had no idea."

"Yeah, well, neither did I," he muttered angrily. "I'm going upstairs." He figured it was something the old, impulsive Harry Potter would do, stomping up the dormitory stairs and throwing himself down on his bed. He reached for his trunk, for the photo album Hagrid had given him, flipping it open to the photo of his parents' wedding. Sirius Black was there, happiness shining in his grey eyes, looking barely older than he had in his yearbook photo. Was he lost to Voldemort already, then? Did he know what he was planning to do?

Harry tore his eyes away, scanning the rest of the photo. In the background, hiding half out of sight, was Remus Lupin. His dress robes were a little worn at the elbows, but he was young and beaming, his dark blond hair neat and his face clean-shaven, a shallow cut healing across his cheekbone. He certainly had no idea what was coming.

He wondered if any of the other people in the picture were Peter Pettigrew. He vaguely remembered the boy's picture in the yearbook; chubby, mousy-haired, looking a little like he would jump at his own shadow. Harry remembered being surprised he was a Gryffindor, with that kind of fear in his eyes. That cowardly boy had stood up to Sirius, and paid the worst price for it.

The album fell shut with a loud noise, and Harry tugged his curtains closed with a flick of his wand, setting his privacy charm. He wasn't angry at Ron and Hermione. He wasn't sad about his parents, or angry at Sirius Black; they were all emotions he'd processed the first time he'd heard about it.

The main feeling twisting him up inside was the overwhelming sensation of guilt. That was one less secret to keep from his friends, but they still didn't know the truth of how he'd heard about it. They didn't know about the map.

The secrets were just piling up on top of each other, and Harry was dreading the day they all came crashing down.

.-.-.-.

Remus knocked on the door, nudging it open and smiling a little at the scowl that greeted him. "I just got rid of the students, Lupin, and I was hoping to get at least a little peace and quiet. What do you want?"

Easing the door shut behind him, Remus strode towards Severus' desk, perching on the end of it and ignoring the glare it earned him. That had stopped working on him years ago. "What do you know about Harry's home life, Severus?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Potter? What does it matter. Albus sent him somewhere safe. Probably some squib family that turned him into a pampered little prince, filled his head with stories of the Boy-Who-Lived, making him think he's something special."

Honey-brown eyes stared incredulously. "You don't know Harry at all, do you?" Remus remarked, shaking his head. Pampered little prince… that didn't sound anything like the Harry he knew. "He's not James, Severus. Believe me. Yes, he has his moments, but…there's so much of Lily in that boy. It actually hurts me to see it sometimes." The way Harry had reached out to him almost immediately, desperate for some kind of connection to his parents, trying to cheer Remus up even when he'd just given the boy some of the worst news of his lif e. His determination not to let the dementors get the better of him.