Yo! I posted this oneshot in March of 2007, when I was twelve, and then I deleted it (I don't remember why. Whatever). And now I only have one half of it. I randomly decided I needed to post something in the HP fandom, so I reposted this. Yeah. I rewrote everything past about half of it, though, since I lost the second half. It's not that great, but it's something, I guess. I edited it a bit. Reviews are loved a lot. Yupyupyup.

It was a dreary morning at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley was still in "cleaning mode" (basically, everyone who didn't have something to do—such as homework—would have to clean; even if there was homework to be done, it was often postponed), and the Weasley twins were not excluded.

"There are still some doxies—and plenty of dust—in that cabinet drawer over there," Mrs. Weasley said briskly, pointing to a mahogany wood cabinet in the corner of the room they were currently standing in. "Get them out." She brandished a mop at them.

Fred and George looked at each other and sighed.

Ron Weasley saw this and his eyes widened with horror. The twins almost never sighed. This couldn't be good.

Just then, escaped convict and said-to-be mass murderer, who had not been Lily and James Potter's Secret-Keeper, came bounding into the room. "Hello! How are you all today?" he asked cheerfully. He seemed to be in an awfully good mood. Perhaps he'd finally gotten to kick Kreacher, without Hermione around to tell him off for it.

Molly Weasley scowled. She had never liked the Azkaban escapee, for some reason.

"We're going to be cleaning; and what great fun it is," George proclaimed melodramatically, picking up a cleaning rag and preparing himself for the attack of the doxies.

Mrs. Weasley's scowl deepened. "Boys…" she warned.

"Ah, yes," Sirius sighed, reminiscing. "I love cleaning... how many times have I polished the trophies in the trophy room for Filch?"

"Too many times to count, I believe," a new voice remarked sarcastically.

"Oh, hello. It's good to see you too, Moony," Sirius returned with a grin.

"Likewise, Padfoot." Remus Lupin smiled and stepped into the room as well. "Do you need help cleaning, Molly?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you," Mrs. Weasley murmured, while shooting a rather nasty look at Sirius, who grinned crookedly. "Hey, don't look at me," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "I didn't do anything."

"Moony?" Fred stammered out, dropping the cleaning rag he'd just picked up and staring, slack-jawed, at his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Padfoot?" George added, his mouth also wide open like his twin, greatly resembling a fish.

"Our old nicknames from school," Remus said, by way of explanation.

"Have you ever heard of, say, an object called the Marauders' Map?" George asked, a hungry, almost feral gleam in his eyes.

Ron took this as his cue to leave the room before anyone noticed he was gone. As he left, he silently congratulated himself on getting out of cleaning.

"Yes, I created it with my friends during Hogwarts. Why?" Sirius frowned, looking confused.

The next thing they knew, Fred and George had both flung themselves at Remus and Sirius's feet, bowing and muttering things while the two men and the twins' mother stared at them, wide-eyed.

"Oh great Marauders," Fred intoned solemnly.

"Oh great Marauders," George repeated.

"We are not worthy."

"We are not worthy," George echoed.

"We are very most humbly pleased to make your acquaintance."

"We are very most humbly pleased to make your—"

"Oh, get off the floor," Mrs. Weasley said crossly, walloping Fred and then George over the head with the mop she held.

"Oy! That hurt," Fred complained.

"That hurt," George reiterated.

"Wait," said Sirius, stepping forward and staring down at the twins, still on the floor. "You know who the Marauders are?"

"Of course," said Fred, looking wounded that anybody could have ever suggested that they didn't know who the Marauders were.

"They're our idols!" George proclaimed.

"The best mischief-makers in the history of Hogwarts!"

"The best pranksters in—"

"Get off the floor! I don't want to have to clean your robes again this week; there's a reason brooms were invented," Mrs. Weasley snapped, jabbing her sons with the mop again.

They jumped up from the floor rather quickly after that. Anything to avoid another attack from the mop.

"Besides flying, you mean?" Fred asked, then cowered when his mother glared at him.

"Get to work," she ordered, and then stomped away.

Fred and George looked at each other. As soon as their mother's footsteps faded away, they threw themselves on the ground again.

"Oh great Marauders—"

"How did you find out about the map?" Remus quickly cut in. He looked faintly embarrassed with all the bowing and hero-worshiping the Weasley twins were doing.

The twins glanced at each other. "We nicked it," Fred said.

"From Filch's office," George added.

"When we were first year—"

"You nicked something from Filch's office?" Sirius looked half-envious, half-disbelieving. "In first year? We didn't manage to get anything from that place until third year—"

Fred looked ready to faint. "We bested the Marauders in something?"

"Oh, Gred, this is a day for the record books."

"A day for the record books indeed, Forge," Fred agreed.

The twins looked at each other, then back at Sirius and Remus, who were still slightly dumbfounded. "Who was Wormtail?"

"And Prongs?"

"Did Padfoot really get 637 detentions by third year?"

"Were the Marauders really responsible for the Great Cheese Incident of 1975?"

"Did—"

"One question at a time, boys," Remus said, looking slightly overwhelmed.

Another shared glance between the twins. "Who was Prongs?"

"Oh. That's an easy question." Sirius grinned easily. "James Potter."

Fred and George looked ready to faint again. "James Potter?" Fred demanded.

"As in Harry Potter's father?" George looked outraged.

"Did he know?"

"Well, yes—" began Remus. The twins cut him off immediately.

"And he didn't tell us?"

"Us, who provided him with the map in the first place!"

"Oh, the betrayal!"

"The shame!"

"The—"

"Harry has the Marauders' Map?" Sirius asked, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

"We gave it to him in his third year," Fred explained.

"Well, look at that." Sirius grinned. "Our little Prongslet has the map! He can follow in his father's footsteps now."

The twins looked at each other again, then back at their idols. "And who was Wormtail?" one of them—it was actually rather hard to tell the difference, the twins being identical and all—asked.

Sirius's expression darkened. "Peter Pettigrew," he said.

For the third time that day, Fred and George both looked ready to faint again. "The rat? The traitor?"

"How could a Marauder have betrayed another Marauder?"

"The idea is preposterous!"

"Preposterous, I tell you."

"Inconceivable!"

"Demeaning!"

"Utterly ridiculous!"

From somewhere far in the house, Mrs. Weasley's voice rose in a shriek. "Don't think you can get out of cleaning, Ronald!"

Bit of an awkward ending, but oh well. Reviews are greatly appreciated.