As they left the castle, Ron was still clutching his head and complaining about the pain. Fred and George had surreptitiously given him a twin-set of thumps using so sort of magical contraption.
The technique they used was likely recorded in their personal handbook: One Hundred Ways to Prank Ron.
"But how are we supposed to avoid Professor Snape on patrol?" Ron asked through gritted teeth, rubbing his skull. Sotis, even when he knew exactly who the culprits were, he simply had no way to get his revenge.
Fortunately, the twins had been asured; they had hit him exactly to the limit of what Ron could endure without letting out a loud, hall-echoing yell.
"Not everyone is cut out to be a faithful follower of the Great Green," Fred said with a flourish, pulling sothing from inside his cloak and pressing it into Sean's hand. It was a large, square piece of parchnt, heavily worn and completely blank.
"What's this?" Ron asked, looking unimpressed.
"This, Ron, is the secret of our success," George said, patting the parchnt with genuine affection.
"We wouldn't dream of bringing it out if it weren't for the summons of the Great Green," Fred added.
"But... what use does Sean have for a bit of old parchnt?" Ron pressed.
"A bit of old parchnt!" Fred closed his eyes and made a face, looking as though Ron had personally wounded him. "Explain it to him, George."
"Right... back in our first year — young, carefree, and innocent—"
Ron let out a loud snort. He seriously doubted if Fred and George had ever had an "innocent" day in their lives.
"Ouch!"
Ron quickly paid the price for his skepticism as George delivered another swift jab. Ron glared at them reproachfully, noticing that Sean was also suppressing a smile. But he let it go quickly; after all, Sean was different.
"—Aha, more innocent than we are now, at any rate—we had a bit of a disagreent with Filch."
"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor, and for so reason, he took offense—"
"So he hauled us into his office and started in with the usual threats—"
"—Detention—"
"—Disembowelnt—"
"—And we couldn't help but notice a drawer in one of his filing cabinets labeled 'Confiscated and Highly Dangerous'."
"So—" Sean interjected, guessing the ending.
"Well, what would you have done in our shoes, Great Green?" Fred asked. "George let off another Dungbomb to distract him, and I nipped over, opened the drawer, and grabbed—this."
"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," George said. "We reckon Filch never figured out how to use it. But he probably guessed what it was, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."
"Do you know how to use it?" Sean asked.
"Oh," Fred smirked. "This little beauty has taught us more than all the teachers in this school combined."
The twins drew their wands and tapped the parchnt lightly, saying in unison:
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
At once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point where Fred's wand had touched it. They joined, crisscrossed, and fanned out into every corner of the parchnt. Then, words began to bloom across the top in green, curly script:
ssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP
The Marauder's Map...
"Can I—"
Before Sean could even finish his sentence, Fred presented the map to him like a sacred relic. "The Great Green... your faithful followers proudly present—"
"—The Marauder's Map—" George finished. "We've got it all morized anyway." He gave a cheeky wink.
Sean took the parchnt. It was incredible; the map showed every detail of Hogwarts Castle and its grounds. But most extraordinary of all were the tiny black dots moving across the page, each labeled with a na in minuscule ink.
In the top left corner, a labeled dot showed Professor Dumbledore pacing in his study. Filch, the caretaker, was currently prowling the third floor. Peeves the Poltergeist was bouncing around the Trophy Room.
Sean and Ron scanned the familiar corridors, suddenly spotting things they had never noticed before. There were passages they had never walked, many of which seed to lead directly to—
Hogsade.
And halfway along one of those passages, a pair of footprints labeled "Gertie" was pacing back and forth.
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," George sighed, tapping the title. "We owe them everything."
"Noble n, working tirelessly to aid a new generation of rule-breakers," Fred added solemnly.
Sean felt a brief mont of silence. He knew that if you reversed the order of those nas, it matched the order in which the Marauders had passed away. Starting with Jas (Prongs), then Sirius (Padfoot), Peter (Wormtail), and finally Lupin (Moony)...
The Wizarding World was always shrouded in a sense of destiny. Every story seed to have a deep origin and an inevitable destination. Sean found it hard to believe it was a coincidence, especially after studying Astronomy, yet the Centaur teacher had told him:
"The Centaur herds have believed in fate for over seven centuries, but if destiny demands our extinction, then it is no longer fate. It is rely a challenge that must be t with courage."
"Right then, let's move!" Fred said cheerfully.
The group set off. Under the moonlight, Sean looked down at the map and noticed a na flickering right next to Ron's dot:
Peter Pettigrew.
Sean felt a flash of confusion. If he could see it, surely Fred and George must have seen it too? Did they really watch Ron sleeping next to a man nad Peter every night for years and never say a word?
Sean suspected they simply hadn't paid much attention to the Gryffindor dorms on the map, or perhaps they'd simply assud Peter was a ghost or a student they didn't know. After all, they didn't spend every second staring at the parchnt.
After seeing Ron off into the secret passage, Sean and the twins returned to the castle. Tomorrow morning, Gertie would ensure Ron returned safely with his new wand. The cost of the wand was, naturally, a "sponsorship" from the twins' recent business successes.
"We have to remind you, Great Green," George said lightly. "Don't forget to wipe it when you're done—"
"—Otherwise, anyone can read it," Fred warned.
"Just tap it and say: 'Mischief managed!' and it'll go back to being a blank bit of parchnt."
With that, the twins vanished into the shadows, leaving Sean standing quietly in the dark, watching the nas move across the ink-stained world.
He watched until the na Ginny Weasley suddenly appeared on the map, returning to Gryffindor Tower.
He realized that Tom Riddle was being far more cunning—and far more desperate—than he had imagined. Or perhaps, simply more arrogant.
Sean folded the map and tucked it away. The Weasley twins had, quite accidentally, provided him with a vital tool. He turned toward the depths of the castle.
Now, while Tom was finished for the night, it was his turn to act.
☆☆☆
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