Dedicated to OttoIsMyDog because I said I'd dedicate my next oneshot to her. Go and read her stories if you like humour and James/Lily or Harry/Ginny although you're reading something of mine so it's more likely you like angsty stuff, which isn't her strong point.
If you do read them and like them and review them can you tell her I recommended them :)
Disclaimer: The characters and the maps insults all belong to J.K Rowling. I own nothing.
As he stares at the words on the piece of old, aged parchment, parchment that he never thought he would see again, he thinks how much they reflect the boys they once were.
"Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business." Himself politely insulting the intruder.
"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git." James once again showing his lack of subtlety and jumping straight to the point.
"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor." Sirius pushing down on a sensitive spot – always a little harsher, darker than the others.
"Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball." And Peter, falling back on an old favourite.
He cannot say Prongs, not in front of Harry because he knows he will slip up and Moony will slip through and he has long since buried that part of him.
He almost says Moony but does not because he knows that that is tempting fate as it is obviously what Snape already believes.
Padfoot is no longer a marauder and as such it would be treachery to voice him as one.
And although thinking of Wormtail brings back the same awful memories he has been trying to forget; those of a Halloween twelve years ago. There is no reminder of him in this room, save the Map; no lookalike, no werewolf and no taboo of his name.
So he says Wormtail. (And anyway Peter needs to be thought of more often.)
And he tells them that it looked like a Zonko's product. Which feels a little bit like betrayal of those four boys. Because the Map was so much more than a joke shop product that could be purchased by the dozen by thousands of students. It is a one of a kind masterpiece that took them years to complete.
And he tells Harry and Ron that he's met the mapmakers and it breaks his heart. But he knows that he cannot say the truth. And he wonders if it was only a meeting; if those eleven-or-so years had been nothing but a blip in time – if he had ever truly known the boys who had made this map.
Brave, daring, brilliant James. Everyone had known James; he was not one you could ignore. And although he did have a hidden side he was more of a heart-on-the-sleeve type of person. It was hard to mistake who he was. He had at least known James.
Charismatic, funny Sirius. He had once believed he knew him better than he knew himself. There had always been a slightly darker side to him, but it was one that could be attributed to his upbringing. As much as he wanted to believe that the Sirius who helped make the Map had existed he knew in his heart that it was foolish to believe that. He had never known Sirius.
Shy, tag-along Peter. He would never have thought that Peter would go after Sirius even after what happened. He decides he had known but underestimated Peter.
He takes the map back to his office and opens it watching the emerald green (James' favourite colour) ink slowly take the shape of the castle. He glances over it; looking for Sirius but, finding nothing, folds it over and places it carefully in his desk drawer.
Mischief Managed.
Sorry about the ending. Really, really sorry.