The Marauder's Map Discovered
An Account of How Fred and George Weasley Discovered the Marauder's Map
"It's perfect."
"Of course it is, Moony, I worked on it."
"Shut it, Prongs."
It was long after midnight, but the four boys were awake and excited. Their pet project that they had begun was completed. For three years they had worked on it, and now, on the last day of classes before their last Christmas at Hogwarts, it was complete. And now, it was time to test it.
"Who's going to do the honors?" asked the boy with black hair that was sticking straight up. He adjusted his glasses and looked around at his companions.
"Me," said a boy with long dark hair that fell into his eyes. He shook it out of his face with a well-practiced gesture that would have had every Gryffindor girl staring, had any been around to see it. "I came up with the idea, after all."
"Can I?" cut in the tired-looking boy. He ran a hand through his hair, a hand that was covered with scars where he had scratched himself before his friends discovered his secret.
"Or me?" demanded the last boy, sitting up eagerly. A light shone in his watery blue eyes, and as always, his expression held a bit of awe at the other three.
"Or me?" asked a new voice.
The four boys jumped. They turned as one to face the newcomer, who stepped off the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory. Her long red hair caught the glow of the dying embers. Her leaf-green eyes sparkled with mischief and knowledge. Knowledge that gave her a weapon over the four boys.
"You don't even know what we're talking about," protested the bespectacled boy.
"Don't I?" The redhead smirked. "I have a general idea, and I know you've finished, and I want to test it."
The long-haired boy leaned over to the bespectacled one and whispered with him. "We may as well let her, you know she won't give us away."
"What harm can it be?" added the boy with scars.
The blue-eyed boy said nothing, but nodded eagerly.
"I don't know..." Running a hand through his already messy hair, the last boy frowned.
"Come on, Prongs," said the long-haired boy.
"All right."
The redhead, who had watched this exchange with interest, smirked again, then grew serious. "What do I have to do?" she asked, pulling out a wand.
The bespectacled boy whispered to her, leaning in perhaps a touch closer than was necessary. The redhead noticed, and shoved him away, grinning. Then she turned to the parchment lying on the floor, touched the tip of her wand to it, and spoke the words that the bespectacled boy had told her.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The doors of the Great Hall banged open, and the students quieted eagerly. Professor McGonagall led a line of first years to the steps at the front of the hall, where a stool with an ancient hat sat waiting for them. The line of first years looked terrified.
All except two.
The redheaded twins wore identical grins, looking around at the hall. They were noticed by many of the students.
Fourth year Nymphadora Tonks looked at the twins and knew that they were pranksters. Just like her.
Fellow first year Lee Jordan looked at them and predicted that everyone at Hogwarts would know those twins' names by the end of the year.
Third year Oliver Wood wondered (as he always did with new students) whether they were good Quidditch players. He was a bit obsessed and planned on captaining the Gryffindor team someday.
Professor Dumbledore saw them and knew that the next seven years were going to be some of the most interesting years Hogwarts had ever seen.
When the twins were sorted one right after the other into Gryffindor, the whole school knew that those redheaded twins were special.
And they were right. Every one of them.
Fred Weasley ripped open the pack of Dungbombs carefully. He passed a few to his twin brother George, who used Spellotape to affix it to a hideous statue of Bernard the Bloated. No one like that statue anyway, even if Bernard had invented the Draught of Living Death.
"Ready, Fred?"
"Ready, George."
"Light 'em up."
Fred took his wand and tapped the fuse. Sparks shot out of the end and the fuse lit.
"Run!" shouted Fred.
The two first years took off around a corner and dove behind a tapestry, listening intently. Seconds later, they heard an explosion, and pieces of white stone flew everywhere. Students screamed and ran. Then a terrible smell pervaded the air, and some students stopped, turning around to the rubble of the statue. One bold Hufflepuff girl approached the ruins and laughed. "It's a Dungbomb!" she announced, her hair turning bubblegum pink.
More students joined in the laughter. Then questions and rumors began flying right and left.
"Who did it?"
"Clever, whoever it was."
"Maybe they were aiming for Mrs. Norris."
Fred and George jumped out from where they had been hiding. As one, the knot of students turned to the two boys.
"We weren't after Mrs. Norris," said Fred.
"We were after the statue," said George.
"We thought Hogwarts-" began Fred
"-would look better without it," finished George.
The group burst into applause. No one had much liked the statue. Students streamed towards Fred and George, who were basking in the light of their first successful prank. Their hands were shaken, their hair was ruffled, and they were congratulated by many for not getting caught.
"Not so fast," said an ancient and hated voice.
Fred and George turned and, as one, their faces became identically guilty expressions. They had been caught after all.
"Pity that I can't hang you up with these," leered Filch, shaking some rusted chains in the twins' faces. "Then you'd really feel my wrath, and it would drill the lessons in your little heads right quick."
Filch walked around the desk and George glimpsed a folder with a stamp on it that read:
CONFISCATED AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS
"Fred," muttered George. He tilted his head towards the folder.
Fred whipped towards the folder. Unfortunately, Filch saw.
"No snooping!" he snapped, hobbling to close the drawer. George slipped his hand in his pocket and slid out another Dungbomb. He was at an awkward angle, but surreptitiously lit the fuse, and rolled it out the door and prayed it would go around the corner.
Sure enough, seconds later another explosion sounded, followed by applause and shouts of "Weas-ley Twins! Weas-ley Twins!"
Filch turned the color of a beet.
"Infernal students," he muttered under his breath. He hobbled out of the office, and, quick as lightning, Fred grabbed the drawer handle and yanked it open. The folder was lying on top, and it looked empty.
"Empty," said Fred, looking disappointed. "Probably Filch is waiting for something dangerous enough to put in it, and he just keeps it here for his ego."
"Aw, let's check it, just in case," begged George.
Fred sighed, but pulled the folder open.
Inside lay a folded sheaf of parchment. The twins looked at each other, excited. But before they could open it, they heard hobbling footsteps. Filch was coming back!
The boys scrambled to sit back down, George holding tightly to the parchment. They thought they were safe, as the door handle began to turn. Then Fred noticed that the drawer was still open - in their hurry, they had forgotten to close it.
Fred slid down in his seat, reaching for the drawer with his foot. He gave it a shove, and it slid, nearly closing.
Fred slid even further. "Come on," he muttered to himself. He knew he was running out of time. The door was partway open.
With one final push, the drawer slid closed with a horrible metallic clang that caused Filch to throw the door open. Fred nearly fell out of his seat, and hurried to sit up again. George slid the parchment a bit further under his leg.
"Consider yourself very, very lucky," snarled Filch. "Now, get out." He sat down at his desk with a groan. Mrs. Norris jumped up on the arm of his chair and hissed at the twins. If cats could wear disapproving looks, Mrs. Norris certainly was then.
The twins couldn't believe their luck. George surreptitiously stuffed the parchment in his bag as they ran out of the office, up the marble staircase, and all the way to the Fat Lady, who asked them for the password.
"Bowtruckles," said George. Neither of them had the foggiest idea what a bowtruckle was, but they both liked the sound of it.
"Correct," said the Fat Lady, and she swung forward to admit them to the Gryffindor common room.
The Gryffindor common room was a large, circular venue with red and gold hangings, with tables and armchairs scattered throughout. The Weasley twins made straight for their dormitory, which they knew would be deserted. The six or so four-poster beds were made neatly, but the room showed no signs of life.
Fred and George sat on the floor facing each other, with the parchment between them. Slowly, the worked together to unfold it - it was huge. When the whole thing lay before them, they looked at each other with thoroughly confused expressions.
The entire parchment was blank. There wasn't a single drop of ink on it anywhere.
"What a waste," groaned Fred. "I told you we shouldn't have risked it."
"Yeah," said George, looking pretty glum himself. He began to fold it up. "It' just a piece of parchment." He tapped it vigorously in frustration, but sparks only flew out of the end of his wand. He gave up and let his wand tip fall, where it rested on the parchment.
Fred sighed. "Well, look on the bright side. Neither of us will run out of parchment till Christmas!" He grinned hopefully, but George just shook his head.
"I wish we knew how it worked! We wouldn't use it to- to blow up the school, or anything..."
He let his head drop, but almost immediately, he looked back up. "Fred, look!" he cried.
Black lines had begun to spread from the point where George's wand had been touching the parchment. They began to form letters, and then words. Eventually, lines of writing had formed on the parchment.
The twins leaned over together to read it.
Mr. Padfoot would like to congratulate the individuals who now have a general idea of how this works.
"Who on earth is Mr. Padfoot?' whispered Fred, but George shushed him and told him to keep reading.
Mr. Moony would like to caution the individuals who found this and inform them that this may lead to rule-breaking.
Mr. Prongs would like the individuals to promise they won't tell anyone about their discovery, unless the person is highly trustworthy.
Mr. Wormtail wishes he were present to meet the individuals on this momentous occasion.
"What is this?" asked George, awestruck.
"And how did it activate?" asked Fred, mostly puzzled.
"Well, my wand was touching the parchment when it happened," said George.
"Plus, the lines spread from the point of your wand," added Fred. "So you must have activated it somehow by touching it."
"But why didn't it go right when I tapped it?" asked George, frustrated. "Unless... maybe you have to say something to make it work! Because it happened after I asked it how it worked, and promised not to blow up Hogwarts."
Fred was nodding enthusiastically. "Try asking it something else."
George raised his wand and tapped the parchment, then said, "How do you make this work?"
New writing spread on the parchment.
Mr. Padfoot regrets that he cannot directly tell the individuals how the parchment works.
Mr. Moony would like to encourage the individuals to continue guessing.
Mr. Prongs wishes the individuals would solemnly swear not to tell anyone about their discovery. Unless, of course, that person is highly trustworthy.
Mr. Wormtail's opinion didn't appear on the parchment.
"Well, that clears things right up," said Fred. "Mr. Prongs said the same thing twice."
"I'm starving," said George, "and I think better on a full stomach. Let's go eat dinner, and give it a rest." So the twins locked the parchment up in Fred's trunk, and went down to dinner.
Hours later, after everyone had gone to sleep, Fred and George were still stuck on the second set of words. They had eaten, done all their homework, and still they had no solution.
Then something Fred had said earlier jumped out at George. "You said that Prongs said the same thing twice."
"I did," replied Fred. "He asked us to promise not to tell."
"Maybe we're supposed to promise," said George thoughtfully. "Try that."
Fred tapped the parchment and said, "We promise not to tell anyone about our discovery of this... well, this whatever-it-is, at any rate."
Yet more writing appeared, without Mr. Prong's commentary this time.
Mr. Padfoot is relieved that the individuals have promised. Even if they did not solemnly swear.
Mr. Moony is pleased the individuals appear to be people after his own heart.
Mr. Wormtail would like to inform the individuals that they are on the correct track.
"Cool," whispered Fred. "Other patterns we see?"
"The words 'solemnly swear' have come up twice," said George. "Try that."
"You try," said Fred, "I did it last time."
George shrugged and tapped the parchment. "I solemnly swear."
Only one line of writing appeared this time.
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would like to know what the individual is solemnly swearing to do.
"That's good!" said Fred excitedly. "That must mean it's part of the code phrase to open the parchment!"
Encouraged by this, the twins set to brainstorming. What would they use it for?
A week later, they were no closer to opening the parchment's secrets. They had solemnly sworn to do nearly everything under the sun, and the parchment remained locked.
"I solemnly swear to try in Charms."
Mr. Wormtail wonders why the individuals are bothering to try in Charms.
"I solemnly swear I will write to Mum more often."
Mr. Prongs would like to ask why the individuals need reminding for that task.
"This is ridiculous," stated George, exhausted. "We wouldn't use it for any of those things. We need to think about something that it would come in handy for."
"Pranks," said Fred, almost to himself.
"Sorry?"
"Pranks. We would use it to get away with the best heists Hogwarts has seen since Peeves was alive and going to school here."
"That's brilliant!" cried George, and tapped the parchment again. "I solemnly swear to use this for good pranks."
Messrs. Moony and Prongs would like to congratulate the individuals in choosing such a noble cause for this.
Messrs. Padfoot and Wormtail suggest that the individuals think about their wording.
"Our wording?" said Fred, more than a bit annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Maybe we have the right idea, but the wrong words," said George. "Try some variation on 'use it for good pranks.'"
Fred thought for a few moments. Then he tapped the parchment and said, "I solemnly swear we won't use this for good purposes."
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would like to inform the individuals that they are getting very close to the opening.
"Really close," Fred whispered. "Variations on 'use it for good purposes': go."
"Use it for bad purposes?" suggested George.
"No," said Fred. "Use it for purposes other than good?"
"That's too similar," replied George. "Try 'up to no good.'"
Fred raise his wand, tapped the parchment for the millionth time, and unknowingly echoed the words of the redheaded girl he never knew.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
This time, the ink lines that appeared spread further, and were darker. They seemed to be forming a picture. The heading read, "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder's' Map."
"Wicked," whispered Fred and George together.
They scramble to open the parchment. The ink lines had spread to the inside of the parchment, and appeared to be a map of some type. The twins peered closely at the map. It was a map of Hogwarts. It showed every room in the castle, and in the rooms it showed-
"Is that Professor McGonagall?" gasped Fred. He was pointing to a dot on the map. It was labeled, in tiny writing, "Professor McGonagall." It was in the Transfiguration classroom. Then, the dot began to move. It move out the doorway and down the hall to Professor Dumbledore's study.
"Whoa," said George. "This is weird."
"Look!" said Fred, pointing to the Gryffindor common room. Two dots were labeled "Fred Weasley" and "George Weasley".
"This is bizarre," said George. "Fred, walk to the other end of the room. I have a guess as to what the dots are."
"Right-o," said Fred, and jumped up. He walked to the other side of the common room. George yelled, "I was right! The dots represent people! This map tells you where everyone inside the Hogwarts grounds is, and every moment of the day!"
"You try," said Fred, rushing over. "I want to see this for myself."
George walked to the other end of the room, and Fred watched George's dot move almost completely in sync with George himself.
"This is brilliant," laughed Fred. "But how do we close it?"
He tapped the map and said, "How do you wipe it blank?"
Words appeared in the corner of the map. They read, "Mischief managed."
"Did it just give us the answer?" asked George. This didn't seem like the map at all. It had made them guess at the passcode for ages.
"Guess once you open the map, you've got to know how to close it... Give it here," said Fred. He tapped the map and said, "Mischief managed."
The map was blank ten seconds later.
In every Weasley trick that came over the next two years, the map played its part, and played it well. It was their savior. Their escapes from teachers, the food they brought to parties, and their uncanny knowledge of the castle were all due to the map and its creators. And so it went, until the map fell into the hands of one Harry Potter, five years after Fred and George first found it. Where it went when Harry left Hogwarts, is a story for another time.