Promises Unbroken

Promises Unbroken

Chapter Six: Pranksters United

The weeks flew by. In between all the classes, his new friends, and trying to write his parents every day, Harry hardly had time to come up for air. The incident on the train had bound him, Hermione, and Ron together, and already the professors were calling them inseparable. Snape, of course, hated all three of them, and especially Harry, who knew his father and the Potions master would rather spit on one another than speak civilly. There were times when he wondered if Ron was indeed right; the slimy head of Slytherin seemed to be everything that a Death Eater would want to be. The other professors, though, were nice, even though their own head of House, Professor Fletcher, was a bit distant. Everyone at Hogwarts knew Professor Fletcher's past, of course, so no one dared comment--even the older Slytherins, like Marcus Flint, ringleader of the "Junior Death Eater Squad" as Ron had taken to calling them, treated him with respect. Perhaps that had something to do with the trio of scars that marked the right side of Fletcher's face, or maybe it was just his clear abilities and powers, but Harry didn't really mind the Transfiguration professor's distance. It made sneaking around the castle much easier.

The stories his parents had told him definitely were only the icing on the cake. Although he knew that one of his father's best friends held the Hogwarts record for most detentions in one term (with his dad a close second, losing only by two), Harry wasn't determined to eclipse that mark. Rather, he was hoping to have more fun while getting in less trouble. He supposed it didn't hurt that one of his dad's other best friends was the headmaster (fortunately, though, none of the other students had caught on to that, because while Harry was sure that Remus would never show favoritism, he knew that jerks like Malfoy would never see things that way), but he was determined to make it on his own, regardless.

The best part by far, though, was the fact that he'd been the only first year allowed to play on his house Quidditch team, and that was due to nothing but his own talents. Harry had, of course, been playing Quidditch since he could walk, but unlike his dad, Harry wasn't a Chaser. No, he took great pride in being a Seeker, and that was a talent that was all his own. It was different playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, but he loved it just as much...even though it wasn't the same as playing with his dad, mom, Remus, and Peter on Saturday afternoons at Remus' home. Madam Hooch had, however, noticed his talent right away, and had told Professor Fletcher, which had ended up with Harry as the starting Seeker on the Gryffindor team. The world, he'd quickly decided, was perfect.

Now, if only he could find what he was looking for...

"It looks like any old piece of parchment," Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione. They were sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, and several empty seats separated the trio from classmates and curious ears.

"So what's the big deal about it, then?" Ron wondered. They'd been friends for less than a month, now, but they could still read one another perfectly, and Ron knew the look on his face. The trio had been watching Fred and George Weasley play pranks for weeks, now, and was aching to try their hands at it (or, at least Harry and Ron were; Hermione had taken a bit of convincing, but they'd won her over in the long run).

"Well, it's not just any old piece of paper," Harry replied with a sly smile. "It's a map. It only looks like an old piece of parchment."

"How do you make a map look like it's not a map?" Ron frowned. Hermione elbowed him.

"Honestly, Ron. It's magical."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course it's magical. I was just wondering how it worked."

"Right," she snorted.

"Anyway," Harry sighed to get their attention off of bickering once more. "It's called the Marauder's Map. I don't really know how it works...but I know it exists. And I know that it shows all of Hogwarts...including the secret passageways."

Ron's eyes lit up, but Hermione scowled.

"Don't we get in enough trouble already?" she asked tartly.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Hermione?" Ron challenged her.

Harry grinned, adding, "We haven't gotten detention yet."

"We got yelled at yesterday," she replied stubbornly.

"Professor Snape doesn't count," Ron retorted.

"Come on, Hermione. You know that you want to explore the castle," Harry wheedled carefully. "Think of all the things there are that we've never even seen. There are probably rooms that no one's been in for years."

"Think of it as History class, but more interesting," Ron continued.

"I happen to like History class," Hermione sighed. "Do you two never give up?"

"Nope." Harry laughed.

"You know you love us," Ron grinned.

"I don't know why I go along with this..." Gotcha! Harry thought gleefully. He was of a mind to make his first real adventure an exploration of the castle that he'd heard so much about (but never enough to spoil the 'surprises' as his dad called them), but he hadn't wanted to do with without his friends. Hermione, however, had finally given in. "So where do we find this map, anyway?"

"That's the catch," Harry admitted. "I don't know."

Hermione glared at him, ready, he was sure, to launch into a tirade over getting them all worked up about something that he didn't even have, but Ron only smiled wider. His reply came immediately.

"Fred and George. They'll know."

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That evening, the trio managed to corner the twins in the Gryffindor Common Room. The five students sat by the fire, alone and mostly unnoticed--Percy had, of course, asked them what they were doing, but Hermione's innocent smile had easily led him astray. Hermione, of course, would never create trouble, so the prefect went away without a further comment, believing her when she said that Fred and George were helping the trio with their Charms homework. As the older Weasley disappeared through the portrait hole, the twins grinned in amazement.

"You're our new best friend, Hermione," George chuckled.

"He believes you," Fred added gleefully.

Hermione tried to glare, but Harry thought she looked a little pink. It was good to have friends, and Ron's older brothers were rapidly becoming just that. But then the twins turned serious, and Fred continued. "So, Harry, what did you want to talk to us about? Ron mentioned mischief making."

"I was wondering," Harry took a deep breath, "if you'd ever heard of the Marauder's Map."

"The what?" George asked immediately, just as Fred replied, just a tad too quickly,

"Nope."

Harry raised one eyebrow. He hadn't been sure before, but the speediness of their denial gave it away. He spoke with gentle sarcasm that they couldn't miss. "Really?"

Two sets of green eyes studied him very closely, well aware of the fact that Harry had just called their bluff. For a moment, it seemed like they would try to worm their way out of the situation, but no matter what else they were, neither Weasley twin was stupid. After studying Harry closely for one uncomfortable moment, they both took a cautious glance around the still empty common room. Finally, Fred spoke again.

"What I'd like to know, Harry, is how you heard of the map. We've never mentioned it to anyone except Lee, and I know he didn't tell you."

"I'll make a deal with you," he smiled. "I'll tell you everything I know about the Marauder's Map if I can see it."

The twins exchanged glances, and Harry could see them wondering what he might know about the map that they hadn't already learned. A moment of silent communication passed between them, and Fred shrugged. George nodded. "I'll go get it."

Moments later, George returned with a scrappy-looking piece of parchment, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat in excitement. He'd been hearing about the Marauder's Map for years, but had never seen it. It was almost like seeing a piece of Hogwarts' very history. Wordlessly, George extended the map to Harry, who took it with a slight smile. He knew this was a test, but he didn't mind. In fact, he understood why the twins guarded the map so carefully--it was truly a pearl beyond price. He pulled his wand out from inside his robes and raised it, struggling to keep the grin off his face. He couldn't believe he was actually holding the Marauder's Map! Harry lightly touched the tip of his wand to the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Immediately, lines began to form on the paper, crisscrossing one another until a beautifully crafted map was created, topped with the words that he had known would be there. There was no hope in holding back that grin now; Harry couldn't help himself. But he kept from laughing out loud as he returned the map to George, who stared at it, dumbstruck.

"How'd you know how to do that?" Fred demanded. "It took us weeks to figure it out!"

"Easy." Harry smiled. "My dad's Prongs."

"WHAT?" both gasped. Fred nearly fell to the floor in shock, and George jumped to his feet, nearly dropping the Marauder's Map and having to scramble to catch it before the parchment hit the floor. Even Ron and Hermione were staring at him with surprise; he hadn't wanted to tell them this unless he was sure that they could find the missing map. Now, though, they were beginning to look very excited, and he could tell that Ron, at least, was starting to consider all the possibilities. Harry, however, only nodded solemnly.

"Your dad...?" George started.

"Prongs? You know Prongs?" Fred gushed. "And the others?"

"Yep," he replied. "Dad and his friends made it in their sixth year."

The twins exchanged an excited glance. George sat back down. "Tell us about the others."

"Well, that's the best part," Harry replied with a grin. "Wormtail is my dad's friend, Peter Pettigrew. He works at the Ministry of Magic."

Ron nodded immediately. "Dad knows him. He's the Deputy Head of International Magical Cooperation, right?"

"Yeah. But get this...Moony is Professor Lupin."

"WHAT?" This time it was all three Weasleys, but Hermione immediately replied sensibly.

"That's impossible. He's the headmaster, Harry!"

Harry laughed. "Not impossible. In fact, Remus--oops, I mean Professor Lupin--is one of my dad's best friends. Him and Peter both; they're actually the ones who told me about it first. Mind you, that was before Professor Lupin became the headmaster. I don't think he'd want me knowing about it now." He snickered. "Does he know you two have it?"

"I don't think so," George replied thoughtfully.

"But it's awfully hard to fool him," Fred admitted.

"Who is Padfoot?" George suddenly asked, and Harry felt a pang of sadness, remembering the look on Remus' face the day he'd told him about the map...and the sorrow of other days in the past, some that he could hardly remember, but had affected his parents deeply.

"Padfoot was Sirius Black," he said quietly. "He was my godfather."

"Was?" Ron caught the difference the fastest.

Harry nodded. "He was my Mum and Dad's Secret Keeper when I was a baby. Voldemort caught him and killed him." He was quiet for a moment. "I don't really remember Sirius much," he said softly, trying to smile. It was saddening; even though he didn't remember his dad's old friend, Harry had always been able to notice the gaping hole left in his father and the other Marauders by Sirius' loss. He could only recall a few snatches of his lost godfather, but his mind always pictured a laughing and happy man who had loved his friends enough to die for them--and had never betrayed them. Harry knew that he owed his life to Sirius Black; he just wished he could remember him.

"But my Mum and Dad talk about him sometimes. He got in a lot of trouble when they were here... Professor Lupin said that he still holds the Hogwarts record for most detentions in one term."

Fred and George nodded solemnly. The latter replied, "Yet another thing You-Know-Who has to pay for."

"Yeah," Ron agreed quietly, and as they all shared a moment of silence, Harry knew what the Weasleys were thinking about. There was hardly a Wizarding family that hadn't lost a loved one in the war, and the Weasleys were no exception. Two years before, Charlie Weasley, Auror, had fallen at some unknown Death Eater's hands. His killer had never been caught.

"Well," Fred finally said with a little forced brightness. "Thanks for telling us about the map, Harry. It's nice to know to whom we owe the secret of our success." Both twins started to rise, but Harry smiled. An idea had just occurred to him, and he wasn't the son of a Marauder for nothing.

"Would you like to make that success even greater?" he asked.

Fred and George exchanged a glance. They sat back down. "We're listening."

"I propose an alliance," Harry replied. "Your map and knowledge of the school, plus what my dad told me. The two of you, plus the three of us--we'll be unbeatable."

The twins looked thoughtful. Fred replied slowly, "There's never been an inter-year team of pranksters."

"So let's be the first," Ron grinned. Harry hadn't shared the idea with his friend beforehand (he'd just thought of it, after all; call it spur of the moment genius), but Ron was clearly enthusiastic. George, however, was more cautious.

"I doubt you know much we don't know," he said.

"I know how to get past the Whomping Willow."

Fred whistled, but Hermione interjected before anyone could reply. "Harry, this isn't a good idea," she said. "Think of all the trouble we could get in."

The twins shot a cross look in her direction, but Ron spoke before Harry could get his mouth open. "Think of all the ways you can get back at Malfoy and his goons, Hermione."

"And I don't plan on getting caught," Harry added. The idea of uniting their two groups was very appealing, but he didn't want to do it without his other friend. Hermione wavered--Malfoy and the others had been heckling her ever since the train ride (subtly encouraged by Professor Snape, more often than not), and he knew how it hurt her. Getting them back in some way would help her, he was sure of that--but George snorted.

"You always get caught. Eventually."

"But don't worry, it's not too bad," Fred assured her.

Harry grinned. "Not with what I have."

"You're nutters," Fred replied. "No matter what your dad told you about Hogwarts, it's going to happen. Nothing will work every time, even with the map."

"My dad didn't just give me information," Harry said. "He gave me an invisibility cloak."

They stared at him. Fred whistled again. "Wow. I take back what I just said..."

"Think of all the possibilities..." George agreed.

"So, do we have a deal?" Ron's grin was threatening to tear his face in half. Even Hermione was finally smiling.

"One condition," George replied. "Lee's in. We couldn't have pulled off half our pranks without him."

"Six sounds good," Ron said.

"Six sounds great," Hermione agreed with relish. Harry smiled again. He knew she sometimes felt out of place, even with him and Ron to lean on, and it was good to see that others accepted her--although he'd never doubted that Ron's brothers would. Hermione, however, was still adjusting to a world where half the wizards viewed her as lowly trash, and sometimes needed to be reminded that not everyone was like that.

"We need a name," Fred said suddenly.

"Too bad Marauders is already taken," Ron nodded. "Quite inspired, that."

"I've got it," George grinned suddenly. "We'll be the Misfits--the Magical and Invisible Society For Instigating Trouble."

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"And there I was, trying to convince the German Prime Minister that magic really does exist," Peter laughed. "The poor chap is brand new on the job--the old one had a heart attack--and their acting Minister of Magic has her hands so full that she could barely find time to see me, let alone the head of their Muggle government. So, being the bright ambassador that I am, I offered to speak to him--not the brightest idea I ever had, mind you--and nearly got arrested and thrown in some 'home for the criminally insane.'"

Lily's eyebrows shot up, but James laughed. "Fitting, that."

"What did you do, Peter?" she asked, sparing a moment to throw a dirty glance in her husband's direction.

"Well, the poor chap was screaming for his bodyguards, saying something about a mad British assassin--he'd a tad paranoid, you see--so I had to act fast. One of them barged into the room and tried to grab me, and the only think I could think to do was turn into a rat. So I did, and I hid under his desk while they all tried to figure out what was going on. Eventually, it all worked out all right."

"And you're the one who thought becoming animagi was a bad idea, Wormtail," James commented with a grin. "Turned out to be damn useful, didn't it?"

The blonde-haired man smirked. "At least I am a useful animal--not some ugly creature with horns--"

"Antlers!"

"And no ability at stealth." His green eyes twinkled. "And I'm legal. Legit. Totally above-ground and honest."

"Legal?" James gaped. His hazel eyes grew to the size of hubcaps. "You registered! You traitor!"

His answer was laughter. "Of course I registered! What else was I supposed to do, what with the entire German Ministry of Magic knowing that I'm an animagus and all? What would you have done, Prongs, obliviated them all?"

"Well..." He trailed off, pouting. "I don't believe you went legal..."

Lily joined Peter's laughter, patting her husband comfortingly on the arm. "Try not to look so disappointed, James. It's not like you haven't gotten responsible in your old age."

"Responsible?" he demanded. For a moment James felt like he was sixteen again; sitting around the kitchen table in the Godric's Hollow Manner with Lily and Peter brought back so many memories of the old days. They could almost be back at Hogwarts in their seventh year, taking a break from their maddened cramming for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s. If he concentrated, he could imagine that they were sitting in the library, reviewing for Arithmancy, as they'd done so many times before... And if they weren't careful, Madam Pince would be there soon to scold them for being so irresponsibly loud. He chuckled. "Since when am I responsible?"

"Would you like me to list?" his wife countered. James sighed, looking at her--she was so beautiful, but there was that damned light in her eyes, the one that said she'd never give in.

"Not really," he admitted. Lily would win, anyway. She always did.

"Good," Lily grinned. "I'm glad that you realize I'm always right."

"Always?" Peter snorted. "That'll be the day..."

"Peter!" She turned her glare on him, and James, for one, was glad to see it aimed somewhere other than at him. He tried not to laugh as she scowled. "I'm trying to help you out! You're supposed to be on my side here!"

"Against a fellow Marauder? Never!"

"Oh, you'll pay for that, Peter Pettigrew!" Lily declared royally. "I had made chocolate éclairs, but with the way you're acting, I'm not feeling very inclined towards sharing them..."

"Ooh, that's dirty," James commented, laughing. He, after all, lived in the house--and he knew how to find food when his wife wasn't looking. But Peter had to leave for Paris in the morning.

"Lily, come on," the smaller man pleaded. "I'll be nice, I promise."

She pointed a sharp finger at him. "You'd better."

"Hey, it's me." He tried his most charming smile, making James and Lily laugh.

"Yes, it is you, Peter," she admitted. "And that's the problem!"

"I don't find a problem with it," James commented mildly--then "oofed" as a finger poked into his stomach.

"Don't you start with me, James Potter, or you won't get any desert either!"

He snickered. "Doubtful."

"And why is that?" Lily demanded archly.

"Because I know how to con you out of anything," James replied, grinning and waggling his eyebrows meaningfully. He was rewarded with a familiar gleam shining out of his wife's eyes, and his smile only grew wider as Lily tried to glare at him.

"Do you now?"

"Um hum." He leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the lips before she could react. James continued, murmuring, "It's an acquired talent, you see."

"Oh, God. Don't you two start this again!"

They both turned to glare at Peter as he broke the spell, but their old friend showed no regret. He only gave them a very pointed look that James had seen a million times before--mostly back at Hogwarts, but there had definitely been a couple hundred instances in the past year or so--and shrugged. Peter rolled his eyes.

"If you're so intent on snogging, at least leave the room," he continued. "After getting the éclairs out, of course."

James and Lily laughed. It was good to know that some things never changed.