Don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 7- A cub almost bitten

Today had been Harry's best day at Hogwarts so far. He had always loved flying, and today he had been told he could try out for the Quidditch team. He couldn't wait to write his dad about it. Remus had told him he hadn't been on the Quidditch team himself, but James had been an exceptional chaser who would have loved that Harry was as brilliant at flying as he had been. Harry knew how close his dad and James had been, and it always seemed to make Remus happy to see that so much of his old friend was alive in his son.

The rules said first years couldn't have their own broom, not that they couldn't join the team. Harry wished he could have his own broom from home, an old silver arrow that had Remus told him had belonged to James. It wasn't the most modern broom, but it was in as good condition now as it had been when James had used it. It was fast, could make incredibly sharp turns, and would have been perfect for the position Harry was hoping to play, seeker. That was the position he always had the most fun playing, since it was the seeker's job to spot the snitch and then race after it and catch it before the other team's seeker to win the game. In short, it was the most exciting job in an already exciting game.

Thanks to the Weasley twins telling how Harry could even beat Charlie when they'd played together during Harry's monthly visits, every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff was looking at Harry like the answer to a prayer, a chance to see Slytherin flattened in a Quidditch match. The Slytherins had loved reminding everyone they could get to listen that they'd won both the Quidditch and House cups for the past six years running. After years of that, the rest of the school didn't care who won, as long as it wasn't Slytherin.

Of course the Slytherins weren't happy at all. The twins might be practical jokers, but not when it came to Quidditch. If they said Harry was good enough to beat their own brother, the best seeker Gryffindor had ever had yet, it must be true. Draco Malfoy, the blond boy Harry had run into at the robe store, was especially furious, and tried to get back at Harry in any way possible. He had guessed correctly that the best way to get at Harry was to talk about his family.

"I suppose having a little luck in Quidditch helps make up for having the dad you've got. Afraid to show his face among wizards is he?"

Harry hated hearing his dad talked about that way. Remus hadn't had much to do with the magical world since Lily and James had died, and since his being a werewolf was a carefully guarded secret, there was plenty of gossip about why Remus spent so much time in the muggle world. Harry had no way to defend him without letting the secret out, so he had learned to do his best to control his temper and keep quiet the way his dad always did. Unfortunately Draco had heard one of the worst of the rumors.

"Is it true that your real dad had to do all of his homework for him because he's a squib? Lucky thing for you Lupin's not your real dad, otherwise you'd probably be a squib too. Too bad he couldn't teach you some of the spells my dad taught me."

"Remus Lupin is my dad. I don't care if we're not blood related, or what he does for a living." Harry said, barely holding his temper. "And he isn't a squib. If he were he couldn't have gone to Hogwarts. He's taught me plenty."

"Then why don't you prove it? How about a wizard's duel?"

Oh, how Harry would have enjoyed dueling him. If anyone needed to have his ego deflated, it was Malfoy, and Harry knew enough spells to stand more than a good chance of winning. Harry might have let Malfoy's comments slide if they'd been about him, but he wasn't about to let his dad be talked about that way. Then Harry remembered the stories Remus had told him about the times James had let himself be led into trouble by loosing his temper with a Slytherin, most often Snape. If he accepted the duel, he'd be willing to bet Malfoy would find a way for Filch or one of the teachers to find out, yet he hated to let Malfoy get away with it Ron was looking like he would have loved to see Harry give Malfoy a good hexing, which made Harry want to go ahead and accept all the more. But he knew what his dad would say, "It's not worth getting a detention for." Maybe there was a way he could get back at Malfoy without getting in trouble.

Peeves the Poltergeist had finished bouncing off the walls long enough to start filling the nearest keyhole with gum. Suddenly a "useful little spell" Remus had taught Harry came to mind.

"You want to see some magic my dad taught me? OK then, we don't have to wait and have a duel. Waddiwasi." The chewing gum flew strait across the room into Malfoy's nose. As he ran off trying to dislodge it, Harry and Ron joined the rest of the Gryffindors in a good laugh. They were still laughing and talking about Malfoy and Quidditch, much to Hermione's dismay, as the three of them made their way to their next class.

"You could have lost us house points for fighting," she pointed out.

"Will you relax, Hermione?" Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Malfoy isn't going to go running to a teacher. He'd be too embarrassed."

"And anyway, didn't you hear what he was saying about my dad?" Harry pointed out. "I was just supposed to take that laying down?"

They were so distracted while they talked, they forgot to watch for the moving stair cases, and the next thing they knew they were in the forbidden third floor corridor, with Mrs. Norris staring right at them. Worse yet, they could hear Filch calling to her to find them. The cat gave a meow that sounded frighteningly like a call for Filch.

"No, no. Nice kitty. Be quiet. Please," Ron begged.

"But we just took a wrong staircase. It's not our fault," Hermione reasoned. "We shouldn't get into trouble for a simple mistake."

"Filch isn't going to listen when we tell him that." Harry said. Mrs. Norris meowed again. "Run!"

The trio dashed for the nearest door, not really caring what was behind it. As soon as they opened it they wished they faced Filch. In front of them stood a gigantic three headed dog, who looked stunned at seeing the three students at first, and then looked at them like supper had been brought early. Harry slammed the door just in time, grabbed Ron and Hermione, and the three of them ran for it, finally reaching the transfiguration classroom. They collapsed in their seats. Thank goodness McGonagall hadn't come into the room yet.

"What- the- bloody- hell," Ron coughed between gasps for breath "was a monster like that doing in the school?'

"Guarding something."

Harry and Ron both turned to Hermione, looking at her as if she'd just unraveled the riddle of the universe.

"Oh honestly, don't you two notice anything at all? That dog was standing on a trap door. There has to be something under there that it's guarding."

"Oh of course," Ron said sarcastically. "I sure wasn't too busy not getting my head ripped off to notice that."

Hermione was about to say something, but then the room became quiet. McGonagall had walked in and class was starting. While the rest of the students began trying to turn their matchsticks into needles, Harry's mind was on that dog. Was it guarding the package Hagrid had taken from Gringotts? And what was that package anyway? In his letter his dad had told him he had no idea what the package could be, but nobody had ever tried robbing Gringotts before, and since it was obvious the package was what they were after, it didn't take much to figure out it had to be something powerful, something that could do magic the witch or wizard couldn't do without it. And if having that three headed monster guard it was any clue, it was something that couldn't be allowed to fall into the hands of any dark wizard.

McGonagall was giving Harry a look that told him she knew his mind wasn't on the lesson. He aimed his wand at the matchstick again, and tried to put the dog out of his mind, telling himself nobody at Hogwarts would try to steal whatever the package was anyway. Would they?