Harry Potter: Raised by Wolves.

Trying to get out of his quidditch-induced euphoria and focus on his upcoming exams was a bit of a stretch, but Harry managed it. He was a little concerned about Hermione, though; every time he saw her she was buried in parchment and books, the dark circles under her eyes getting bigger every day, muttering runes and charms and potions under her breath. He was starting to wonder if she'd crack before exams could even happen. Not to mention her timetable — how could she take two exams at the same time? Even Hermione wasn't that good! She snapped at him every time he asked, though, so Harry left her to it and focused on his own books. Ron made a solid attempt at studying, but his attention span was that of a flobberworm. Harry definitely didn't miss the days where his was the same. For the first time since starting Hogwarts, he felt like himself when he was studying. He felt confident in his knowledge. He could focus.

At least, he could until the note about Buckbeak's appeal came through. "I can't believe they're bringing an executioner," Ron muttered, scowling at his Potions textbook. "It's like they've already made up their minds!"

"With Malfoy's dad paying them, I'm sure they have," Harry muttered derisively. He might be friends with Draco, but he still hated Lucius Malfoy with a passion. "I'll be back in a minute, I need to go to the library." He'd somehow lost his notes on Cheering charms, and the section in the standard textbook wasn't nearly helpful enough for Harry's liking. To his surprise, Neville fell into stride with him on the way out of the common room.

"Did you say you're going to the library, Harry?" he asked casually. Harry shot him an odd look.

"Yes… why?"

"Would you mind coming with me for a minute? It's important." Neville wouldn't meet his eye, a curiously determined look on his face. Harry was intrigued. "Yeah, sure." Wondering what he was about to get himself into, he let Neville lead him past the library and behind a tapestry, into a room Harry had never seen before. To his surprise, they weren't alone.

Susan Bones was there, and Hannah Abbott; but so were Ernie Macmillan and both the Patil twins; Anthony Goldstein; Sullivan Fawley in the year below; and even, to his utter shock, a trio of Slytherins in the corner. Cassius Warrington, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. All of them had their palms open, and all of them bowed their heads when Harry and Neville entered. Murmurs of 'well met' echoed through the room, and Neville ducked his head formally.

"Well met," he greeted. When he straightened up, it was with square shoulders and a confident stance that was entirely at odds with the shy, fumbling Neville Longbottom that Harry knew.

"Well met," Harry followed, keeping his palms out as he was supposed to. "What am I doing here?"

"We thought we'd all introduce ourselves properly," Ernie Macmillan drawled. "Before the school year's over and we all leave for the summer. There's been all this talk about the Potter heir finally stepping into society, we thought it'd be nice to welcome you in." Harry froze in alarm. "What talk?" he asked sharply. "You can't be talking. Dumbledore can't know I know about my inheritance." He winced as soon as he said it — giving away way too many of his cards at once there — but no one in the group looked all that surprised.

"Relax, Potter," Greengrass called across the room. "We keep our talk safe within the right circles. Dumbledore doesn't know a thing." She folded her arms across her chest, eyeing him coolly. "Am I to assume that he wouldn't take well to the news?"

"That's… sighed.

an

understatement,"

Harry "Professor Dumbledore has taken some pretty strong measures to keep Harry away from us. From this," Neville said, studying the gathered teens.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Goldstein muttered.

"Regardless, welcome," Hannah Abbott said with a smile, gesturing to a couple of empty chairs. Harry and Neville both sat down. "Harry, this is all the heirs currently at Hogwarts — well, most of us. There's a few more — Slytherins we don't trust, and the Carrow twins are due to start next year, but for now, this is us."

"Isn't Malfoy an heir?" Harry asked, glancing at the other Slytherins. How could they be trusted, but not Draco? "He is. So are Crabbe and Goyle, and Theo, Pansy, and Millicent," Zabini confirmed. His voice was deep; he'd hit puberty at the end of first year, and even the fifth and sixth year girls were paying attention to him by now. Harry didn't know much about him, except that he kept to himself, stayed out of fights, and was incredibly good-looking. "Draco's situation is complicated."

Harry snorted; he'd bet he knew about as much about Draco's situation as Zabini did, by now. "So what's the point of this little meeting, other than introductions? Is there some sort of induction ritual, or a test I need to pass? How do you know you can trust me?"

"You're Harry Potter," Susan said flatly, rolling her eyes. "Also, Neville vouched for you. That's good enough for us."

"No ritual, no test. Just a bit of conversation," Padma Patil piped up, smiling prettily.

Harry looked between the sisters, brow furrowing in confusion. "How can you both be heirs? If you don't mind me asking. I mean, surely one of you is older."

"I am," Padma confirmed. "But our family magic will decide which one of us is fit to be heir once we come of age, so for now we both train for the position. Lots of families work that way with twins — it hardly seems fair to decide just because of a few minutes of extra life." "Different family magics have different conditions for inheritance," Greengrass explained, her tone surprisingly free of condescension. "Some go for boys over girls, some have magical strength take precedence, some have bizarre and obscure inheritance laws. Not every family makes their public."

"So how do I know I meet those conditions?" Harry asked, wondering if it had all been some big mistake.

"If the Gringotts Line Test says you're an heir, you're an heir," Warrington told him. "Otherwise it would just say you're a potential heir. I have an older brother, but the family magic passed him over due to an… incident when we were kids." His lips twisted in a sour expression, and Harry didn't dare ask for details.

He looked around the room, studying faces carefully. "So this is what the Wizengamot is going to look like in ten years, hmm?"

"Maybe not ten," Hannah said, shrugging. "Some of us still have parents or guardians happy to keep their seats for another fifteen years or so, if all goes well. But eventually, yes."

"This isn't even half of the Wizengamot seats, though. What about the rest?"

"Just because most purebloods try and have children at the same time, doesn't mean it worked out for everybody. Accidents happen," Susan said with a cheeky wink. "The rest are either too young for Hogwarts or already graduated."

"There's twenty-one of us at the moment that we know of," Warrington cut in. "But there could be more; not everyone makes their heir's identity public knowledge."

"And of course, there's all the vacant and proxy seats. And some people hold two seats. Like Nott," Susan continued.

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