Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

"How can you say that, after what he almost did to you?" Hermione hissed. "You should stay in the castle, Harry."

"Why, it's not like it's any safer," Harry pointed out. "Black's already broken in here twice." That took a little of the wind out of Hermione's sails, but she still didn't look happy. "If you had any sense, you'd give that map to McGonagall."

"Are you mental? This thing is genius! I can't believe Fred and George never told me about it." A dark look briefly crossed Ron's face, but it faded in favour of telling Harry all about Zonko's and how great it was. Hermione huffed, gathering her books and stomping back to her previous table, where her half-finished essay awaited. "So you'll come, then?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Yeah. But I'm taking my invisibility cloak."

No need to go borrowing trouble. That Saturday morning, Hermione kept shooting Harry suspicious looks across the table at breakfast. "I know what you're planning," she muttered. Harry grinned at her.

"It'll be fine, Hermione. Trust me." Maybe a little rule-breaking as a trio was just what Harry needed to stop feeling out-of-sorts. In the last few months, things had changed so much. Mostly for the better, but it was overwhelming at times. Some good old-fashioned mischief was just what the doctor ordered.

Harry pretended to see Ron and Hermione off at the Entrance Hall, then made his way towards the third floor, Marauder's Map in his pocket. As he reached the statue of the one-eyed witch, he checked the map quickly, cursing under his breath at the small dot labelled 'Neville Longbottom' rapidly approaching.

"Hiya Harry!" Neville greeted cheerfully. "I forgot you weren't going to Hogsmeade. Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Sorry, Neville," Harry said, keeping his voice casual. "I've, uh, got some work to do." He gave the other boy a pointed look, and Neville's mouth made an 'o' of understanding.

"Did you want any help with it?" Neville asked quietly. Harry made to reply, but they were interrupted by sharp footsteps approaching. Neville gasped, shuffling behind Harry.

"Potter. Longbottom," Snape greeted, staring Harry down with suspicion. "What are you two doing here? An odd place to meet."

Harry refused to let his eyes drift to the one-eyed witch statue, even when Snape's did. "We're not meeting here. We just— met here."

"Then I suggest the two of you return to Gryffindor tower, where you belong," Snape drawled, running his hand over the statue. Harry held his breath.

"Right. We'll, uh, do that, sir." The two of them left, and Harry told Neville he was going to the library, only to double back as soon as he saw the dot labelled 'Severus Snape' securely in his office.

"Dissendium," he whispered, tapping the witch's hump and climbing in as soon as it opened. He was running late.

.- .

Hermione wasn't with Ron when Harry found him. It was clearly too much to ask for the two of them to make up, even after Hagrid spoke to them. Harry was starting to regret going — all he was doing was following Ron around, letting the redhead show him all the things he'd seen when he'd visited by himself before Christmas, when Ron didn't know about the map. Exploding Snap with Neville would've been more fun. At least Harry got Ron to buy him some stuff at Honeydukes, slipping him money from beneath the cloak.

Ron led the way up towards the Shrieking Shack, telling Harry all about the rumours of it being haunted, when he heard a voice from the other side of the hill. As the voice drew closer, Harry's stomach sank. "Father had to go to the hearing, of course, to tell them about my arm." It was Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, laughing over Hagrid and Buckbeak. It sent a sharp pain through Harry's ribs, but he shook it off. Draco had made it pretty clear that those two were as much his babysitters as his bodyguards, keeping an eye on Draco and reporting back to their fathers, who would turn to Draco's father if he didn't like what he heard. They weren't as dumb as they looked.

"What are you doing, Weasley?" Draco's voice cut through Harry's thoughts, and he saw Ron's hands clench into fists at his sides. Draco looked up at the shack. "Bet you'd love to live here, wouldn't you? Practically a palace compared to that hovel you live in now." Crabbe and Goyle both laughed, and Harry had to grab the back of Ron's robes to stop him from charging at Draco.

"Leave him to me," he hissed under his breath. Ron would never forgive him if he didn't take the opportunity. Besides, Draco was being a bit of a prick. Even if it was an act.

Sneaking off to the side, he flicked his wand from particularly SPLAT!

his gross

holster, levitating patch of mud

a up.

It slammed into the back of Draco's robes, covering all three Slytherins in foul-smelling muck. Draco yelped. "What was that?"

SPLAT!

Harry sent another ball of mud flying from the other side, hitting Goyle clean in the face. "Who's there?" Crabbe called, whipping around with his wand in his hand. He started lumbering forward, half-blinded by mud, and Harry stuck a foot out to trip him as he passed. The enormous Slytherin went crashing to the ground — and on the way down, his foot caught on the corner of Harry's cloak.

Suddenly, his head was exposed, and all three Slytherins and Ron were staring at him with varying degrees of fury and horror. Harry stumbled back, quickly pulling the hood back up, and without saying anything to Ron he sprinted back towards Honeydukes.

If it had just been Draco, Harry wouldn't have worried, but Crabbe and Goyle saw him too. There was no way they would n't tell a teacher. Shit, he was in so much trouble.

When he reached the passage in Honeydukes' cellar, he did a quick cleaning charm to get the mud off his boots and scrambled back up to clamber out of the one-eyed witch, hoping he didn't look as out of breath as he felt. If anyone asked, he could just say he'd been out flying. He left the cloak and his bag in the passageway and shut the witch's hump behind him, hoping to slide right back into the trickle of students going about their day. He could come back and get them later. Quick footsteps echoed down the corridor. The blood drained from Harry's face.

"Potter!" It was Snape, his features set in a harsh glare, though there was a gleam of triumph in his eyes. Harry was well aware of his sweaty face and messy hair. "Come with me."

"Where are we going, sir?" Harry asked, playing innocent as he fell into stride beside the long-legged Slytherin, having to practically jog to keep up. Naturally, they ended up in Snape's office.

"Sit." Harry did so, trying not to stare too closely at the gross things in jars lining the shelves. "Mr Malfoy and his friends came to me with a rather interesting story."

"Sir?"

"Apparently, Potter, they came across Weasley in Hogsmeade. And he wasn't alone."

"Was Hermione with him, sir? I'm glad they're talking again." Snape's glare could've melted a cauldron. "Mr Malfoy states that someone invisible was throwing mud at him and his two friends, while they were stood talking to Mr Weasley. And then, Mr Crabbe saw a very curious apparition. Do you know what that might be?"

"Can't say I do, sir."

"Your head, Potter. Floating in the middle of Hogsmeade."

"Perhaps he should go to Madam Pomfrey, sir, if he's seeing things," Harry replied neutrally. He thought Snape might explode with rage.

"Your head does not have permission to go to Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to go to Hogsmeade."

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