"What do you reckon it is?"

"I dunno."

"Neither do I."

"Well, it's got to be something. Else, Filch wouldn't've taken it."

Their eyes met, mirror images of brown wide-set in wonder. Simultaneously, they brandished their wands. The rest of the Gryffindor common room had been long deserted; else someone would have feared the mischievous glint in both pairs of eyes.

"Reveal yourself," Fred began.

"Please," George added.

Nothing happened. Both boys' shoulders slumped in disappointment, before they straightened up to try again.

"We—"

"—Fred and George Weasley—"

"—Request that you reveal your secrets."

There was still nothing. The boys groaned.

"What…is that…is that the map of the marauders?'

Fred and George each watched his eyes light up in the gaze of his brother before they turned to face the Gryffindor ghost floating in front of the fireplace.

"Marauders, Sir Nicholas?"

"What Marauders?"

"Why, the most infamous trouble-makers this school has ever seen of course."

Both boys raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Well, sure. For now."

"But we just got here."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"So…Sir Nicholas…d'you think…" George pressed.

"Could you tell us how to get it to work?"

The ghost opened his mouth, then shook his head gently. "No. I couldn't. There's too much trouble you could get into."

"Oh, come on, Sir Nicholas…"

Both boys pouted innocently.

"We have no idea what you mean. Right, George?"

"I'll say. We're perfect angels."

"We're only curious."

Nicholas's side-long glare clearly conveyed disbelief. The boys sighed in defeat as he floated off.

"Well, brother…we may be out of luck."

"We can't give up yet! Especially now. I want to know more about these Marauders!"

"Well, what do you suggest we try next, Fred?"

They considered it for a few moments before identical grins spread over their faces.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, George?"

"I believe I am, Fred. And a brilliant thought it is."

With their matching grins and sweaters, they began to scour the castle. It took what an hour or two, but they eventually found the very person—or rather, poltergeist—they'd been searching for.

"Why, hello Peeves."

"How goes it, Peeves?"

The ghoul chuckled. "Naughty, naughty, weasel twins. What are you doing way out here?"

"Well," Fred began. "We were told—"

"Very briefly, mind you."

"—About these…trouble-makers.

"The Marauders, we believe."

"And we figured if anyone would know, it would be the biggest trouble-maker around."

Again, Peeves chuckled. "What would you ickle firsties want to know about the Marauders for?"

"Were they really as much trouble as we've heard?"

"Who were they?"

Fred and George had not been at Hogwarts yet long enough to know that the look that came across Peeves' face just then was a rarity, the likeness of which only appeared in the presence of the Bloody Baron. All they knew was that he seemed to be showing severe respect, and he spoke his next words with the closest thing to reverence as they had heard him sound since arriving.

"Well, there were twice as many o' them as there are o' you. Even so, you'd have to cause a lot of trouble to live up to their memory."

"Well, what sort of trouble—"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…wouldn't do to tell you that, now would it? You'll have to come up with your own ideas, ickle firsties."

They glared at him and crossed their arms. Peeves' eyes brightened when he saw the parchment in Fred's hand.

"Ooh! No wonder you're asking 'bout them Marauders, seein' as you've found their map. Naughty, naughty…stealing it from Old Filch's office."

"So you know it?" Fred ventured as George leaned forward in excitement. Peeves squeed with joy.

"Ooh… the trouble you could get into…"

"Only," George began slowly, pointing at him with the rolled up parchment, "If you tell us how to use it."

Peeves tapped his fingertips together.

"Hmm…I hate to be helpful…but it would be amusing…"

"Come on, Peeves," they urged together. The poltergeist grinned impishly.

"Only if you're aiming to cause trouble."

"We are!" they insisted.

"Well don't tell me. Tell that," he said, gesturing towards the item. "And it might help to use your wand," he added as an afterthought.

The boys looked at each other as Fred pulled his wand out, tapped the parchment, and said, "We wish to cause trouble."

Nothing happened.

George exchanged a glance with his brother. "Mayhem?"

The parchment remained lifeless.

"Chaos?" Fred offered. "We're awful good at the chaos."

They both groaned at in activity of the item.

Peeves chuckled. "Shame on you. What would your mummy say?"

Both boys lit up. Excitedly, they hunched over the parchment. Fred touched his want to it and said, "I am up to no good."

They gasped as ink began to loop across the page, a single word in elegant script taunting them.

Promise?

"Yes!" they exclaimed immediately. The word faded, leaving just a blank page. Fred smacked his forehead as George threw his head back in frustration.

"Need more than a promise, don't it?"

"More than a…" George trailed off.

"Swear," Fred suggested quickly.

"Solemnly swear," Peeves prodded, barely containing his excitement.

Both boys had their wands out now. They tapped the leaf together and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The boys watched in awe as ink spider-webbed across the parchment, spreading, dividing, and meeting until they were staring at a perfect map of Hogwarts with footprints moving between lines.

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP

Fred and George looked up, meeting each other's eyes.

"Wicked," they breathed together.

With childlike glee, Peeves sniggered before leaving the trouble-makers on their own.