Disclaimer: The wizarding world, in any generation, is (unfortunately) not mine.
"Is it real?" Wood asked, prodding at the parchment with his wand.
Jerkily, James yanked it protectively to his chest. "Obviously it's real," he scoffed, holding the old square parchment to his chest with true affection. He petted its worn edges. "What'd I be showing you a fake for, Jacky?"
He eyed his friend apprehensively. "Well, last time you told me you had the Elder Wand off your dad, and that turned into a rubber mongoose when you let me wave it about."
"That," said James coolly, "was funny. This is serious." He jammed the parchment down in emphasis.
"And speaking of, before that," Wood continued, eyes narrowed, "it was the pastries that you swore on both your dead namesakes were from your mum, not your Uncle George."
"That was- !"
"Not funny," his friend said fiercely. "You weren't the cockatoo large enough to eat Mr. Norris. And then there was the infamous incident -"
"Jack!" Harry Potter's eldest son waved him off with a flurry, sticking the map under his friend's nose. "Honestly! I solemnly swear-"
"D'you even know what solemnly means-"
"Oh, shut it, it's the genuine article! Now tap the hump-backed witch-"
"You tap it!" he hissed warily back, looking dubiously at his friend.
James' free hand, clutching his still lit wand, was shoved forward at once to glimmer before Jack's freckled face while lending an eerie cast to his own greenish-brown eyes. "Invisibility cloak or not, they can still hear us. You want Shunpike getting us?"
"No," Wood replied sulkily, lifting the silvery fabric to stick out his own wand. "I'm warning you, James Potter, if this ends in you closing me up in some stone niche and running away screaming with evil, evil laughter, I am not going to be your friend in the morning."
"Nah," said the boy confidently. "You would be." He brought his wand down to the surface of the Marauder's Map where two dots labeled James Sirius Potter and John Oliver Wood stood with bubbles labeled 'Dissendium' marked over their heads.
"Dissendium," said Jack with a sigh to accompany the tap of his wand, and the hump of the witch opened to a passageway. "Godric, it does go somewhere! Where?"
"Honeydukes," said the up-and-coming mischief manager with relish.
"Oh, c'mon now, pull the other one!"
"Oi, Jacky, have I lied to you?" asked James, adding quickly as Wood's jaw dropped indignantly, "Tonight? Now stop catching doxies with your mouth open like that, you look a right prat, and let's get going, then!"
Invisibility Cloak easily draped over two, they shuffled forward into the passageway. It took some budging to pass through the skinny gap one at a time, James muttering in an undertone about Wood's seconds of the treacle tart at dinner. John Wood lit his wand as well as they ducked into darkness, illuminating his awed face and James' triumphant one.
"Thanks, Gramps," muttered James cheekily to himself, as he tucked the weathered parchment into his robe pocket with a loving pat.
"Who're you talking to?" Jack demanded, louder now with the entrance safely shut, as they moved forward. "And James- you do have some Galleons on you, don't you? We won't be-" his lip jerked slightly with nerves, "stealing anything-"
"Steal?" James' brows arched, and he looked astonishingly injured considering the manner by which he'd acquired the Marauder's Map. "Me? A thief? Me? Jacky, Jacky, Jacky, how little you know me. . . "
"Oh, I know you, Potter. . . and if you ruin my chances for the Quidditch team 'fore we're even allowed to bring our broomsticks, I'll- I'll-"
"Hex me? Kick me? Bite my head off?" he suggested gleefully. "Spend every waking moment learning the Curse of the Bogies till you're better than even me-"
"I'll write to your mother!" Wood exploded in an only half-tempered roar, which echoed in the caverns.
He wouldn't, thought James frantically, his face draining of blood to look almost vampirish in the dim light. "Race you to Honeydukes!" he shouted, to change the subject, and Jack immediately shot out from under the Invisibility Cloak with a shove past his best mate and clambered down the low passage in his typical kamikaze competitive spirit.
Yanking the old cloak over his head and onto his shoulder, James darted after him, leaving footsteps on the packed dirt path trodden by Hogwarts' many mischief makers, laughter peeling after him.
a/n: Jack, fyi, is the traditional nickname for John; much more recently it's become more a name in its own right, but i wanted to pay a small tribute to Remus John Lupin ;) (just in case i confused anyone)
first challenge I've ever undertaken (start a hp story, any character/era, with 'is it real?')- from the Reviews Lounge forums on this site, but the idea just hit me. written in probably my briefest span ever, as I'm not allowed to be writing right now- college-packing, etc. If you like it, please leave a line and if you want, check out my other stuff; so if you're wondering why I'm not updating Wheezy - yet, blame my mother. ;)
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