A/N: This story was inspiried by this quote:

Courtney: What child did Harry give the Marauder's Map to if any?

J.K. Rowling: I've got a feeling he didn't give it to any of them, but that James sneaked it out of his father's desk one day.

Finally. He had waited for this moment for three days, and yes, it was-at last-going to pay off. Today, his father's study was completely unoccupied and unprotected. James Potter grinned. He tiptoed down the burgundy-carpeted hallway, skillfully avoiding the loose floorboard six feet from the door. His trainers made no noise-How could they, after hundreds of successful sneaky missions and excursions?-and the dark, sturdy, impassive door loomed all the closer. But James wasn't at all intimidated. Although his father's study was off limits, he should've known that James would try to get through it. It was, after all, James's nature. He was built for speed and sneaking around. This was easy stuff. Kid's stuff. James could hardly wait for Hogwarts-a whole new set of rules to break and adults to annoy. Paradise.

James forced himself back into the present. Now was no time to be daydreaming. Now it was time for action-and the dark door was only a foot away. James furtively cast looks around for any siblings or parents. Nope. Nothing. Do it. Now.

He shot out an arm towards the brass knob-only to feel his arm vibrate violently. James desperately tried to unglue his hand from the doorknob, but to no avail-it was stuck to the knob like a Chizpurfle to a Crup. James cursed his stupidity. Of course-an Intruder Charm. And, by the looks of it, a Sticking Charm as well. He gritted his teeth. Arrogance, Potter, arrogance. Now focus. You can unstick your hand. Just channel the magic.

James shut his eyes and concentrated. He felt the force and energy of his magic crawl down his arm and move to the rattling handle. James felt the skin of his hand separate itself from the scorching metal, and opened his eyes to see purple sparks part flesh and brass. He suddenly felt a sort of great wind rush through him, and he was free.

James was cast on the ground, but he immediately jumped up and searched for a hiding place. Dad couldn't find him here-it would ruin everything, his plans, his reputation for being unbeatable. He saw Lily's room down the hall and he knew it was his only hope. He flung open the door and nearly toppled over her enchanted dollhouse that emitted several high shrieks when kicked. Her room was a light lilac colour, and James wrinkled his nose at the femininity of it. He shut the door with what he hoped was a quiet creak and dived into his sister's closet.

"What d'you think you're doing?!"

The closet doors were wrenched open and James stared meekly into the eyes of his eight-year-old sister.

"Sorry Lils, but just please be quiet!"

"You think you can just run in here and pretend to be invisible? I'm calling Daddy!"

"NO!" James nearly shouted, "No, Lils, please, I'll do anything, just don't-"

"Wait."

Lily had a sort of immature satisfaction written on her engaging face. James' heart sunk. He had realized, far to late, what he'd just said. Lily stepped into the closet and closed the doors behind her.

"Anything, big brother? You said anything?"

James tried to modify his sister's memory by simply wishing it, but magic has a funny way of only happening when absolutely needed. James's magic was currently rebelling against him. He balled his fists and waited.

"Hmmm…well, Becca hasn't been over to play lately. I could use someone to play with Rosaline." Her grin was getting wider.

James cursed his luck, then Becca Thomas for not being over recently. He rolled his eyes before nodding.

"Say it, big brother. Or it doesn't count."

James was about to be utterly humiliated, he knew it. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and said, "Yes, I'll play with you."

"With Rosaline. And for a month." She was milking it for all it was worth. These would be the fond memories she reviewed on her deathbed.

"I'll play with Rosaline. For a month." Lily nodded with satisfaction.

"Good. I won't call Daddy."

And she left, shutting the closet doors behind her.

James let out a breath. The prices you pay for being a criminal mastermind, he thought.