EVENING OF DECEMBER FOURTEENTH

Fred and George must have sat silently in McGonagall's office for over an hour. They could hear her and Filch talking, but none of what they were saying. Finally, Professor McGonagall strode in. Filch shuffled in behind her.

"Filch, you may go now. I can take care of Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley from here."

"But...Ma'am." Filch protested. McGonagall gave him a stern look and he walked out. She rounded on the twins. Fred gulped.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S BEARD WERE YOU THINKING?" The professor took a moment to compose herself. "With great disappointment, I am deducting thirty points each from Gryffindor. I have talked Filch out of his suggested six years of detention and he has settled for two months. Your detentions start at the beginning of the term. Additionally, I have instructed the head boy and your brother, Bill Weasley to keep an eye on you. Now, if you will please excuse yourselves I have work to do."

Fred and George walked sheepishly up to Gryffindor tower. Sitting in the common room was Percy Weasley.

"Where have you been all day? I should have kept a better eye on you. Now that you are away from home it is my responsibility as your older brother to watch out for you." He cut off the lecture when Bill Weasley walked in.

"I think that's enough," said Bill. Percy opened his mouth to protest but refrained when he saw Bill's expression. Head held high, Percy stalked up to the third year boy's dormitory. With his absence, Bill turned towards the twins.

"Go to bed." Although the glint in his eye was not gone, it was heavily shrouded by disappointment. "Now." Heads bowed down, the twins headed up to their rooms.

Once in the safety of the dormitory, the two jumped onto one bed and closed the curtains around them.

"So Freddie, what'd you get?" Throughout all day of Filch, McGonagall, Percy, and Bill, this was the question that had been on George's mind. Fred had been wondering the same thing, in the chaos of the day, he hadn't seen what he had taken.

Fred emptied his pockets. There was only one thing. For all the effort and trouble they had gone through, all he had managed to take was a blank piece of parchment. He frantically rummaged through all his pockets. Nothing.

"You have got to be kidding me." George's words pierced straight through Fred's heart. "For the cost of two months of detention and the loss of Bill's trust, all you could take was one grimy piece of parchment?"

"Well, I could've gotten something better if you had given me more time." Fred retorted, hurt and angry.

"You're impossible, you know I couldn't have gained you any more time." George picked up the parchment. "I swear, there better be something-" George gasped. "Fred, look at the parchment."

"What?" Fred snatched it from his brother. Words had spread across the page.

Two out of ten words correct, keep guessing.

"Wow," George whispered. Both had forgotten about their argument. "Okay, what was the last thing I said?

"Um, I think it was 'Fred, look at the parchment." Said Fred.

Zero out of ten words correct, keep guessing.

"Try 'I swear, there better be something."

Two out of ten words correct, keep guessing

"Hey," said Fred, "at least it's a start."

Zero out of ten words correct, keep guessing.

For the next few days, all Fred and George could think about was their next guess. They spent as much time as possible shut up in the dormitory with the parchment. However, Percy was getting suspicious and started following them up to their dorms.

Fred has taken to going to the library with the parchment and opening books at random, desperately guessing the first sentence he saw. This plan only lasted a few days, as Madam Pince would often shoo Fred away with a feather duster.

MORNING OF DECEMBER TWENTY-FORTH

It was the morning of Chrismas eve, and George Weasley sat cross-legged in his bed. They were so close to unlocking it. Just one more word was all he needed. George picked up a school book from his bedside table. Solemnly We March Onwards: An Abridged History of the Goblin Wars.

Solemnly, he supposed the word was worth a shot. George plugged it into the fragmented sentence. The parchment lit up and words covered the parchment.

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

"FRED, COME QUICKLY."