Word Count: 1, 291

Letter: F

Character: Fred Weasley

Who Else I Considered: Filius Flitwick

Why I Chose Fred: There are more opportunities to write about when speaking of Fred, or any Weasley for that matter, where as Professor Flitwick, although it sounds funny to get to write about someone who is described as 'part-goblin,' is rarely mentioned in the books and therefore would be difficult to write about.

Summary: Fred and George steal the Marauder's Map from Filch's office and discover the many secrets it beholds.

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George and I were serving our detentions for Filch in his dusty office, rewriting cards of previous troublemakers, their mischief, and their punishments. Obviously, the punishments weren't severe enough, as many of the names came up various times.

Filch just sat in the corner, looking at a mysterious piece of old parchment. Every twenty minutes or so, he would get up and leave, muttering something like "Not again, Peeves!" or "Finnegan is going to pay" under his breath and giving George and I a you-better-stay-put-or-I'll-hang-you-by-your-ankles look. We would sustain our laughter until he was out of earshot.

After a good hour and a half, Filch stuffed the rolled up parchment into a drawer in his desk and left another time, growling "Jordan" in a barely audible voice. Again, he gave George and I a look, but told us "we were to be free after he came back." We agreed that this was very un-Filch like.

"Fred, psssst, Fred, psssssssssssssssssssst." How annoying George could be at times.

"What, George? Sprung a leak? Need some duct tape?" I questioned, sarcasm drowning my voice.

"No!" He seemed offended.

"Then what?" I asked matter-of-factly.

"That parchment was very…mysterious," he said, quoting my thoughts.

"I know, George, but what are we going to do about it?" I commented sarcastically.

"I dunno, Fred. Steal it?" he suggested.

"Good idea," I replied, as if the thought hadn't crossed my mind once.

George got up out of his seat across from me at the table that looked as though some of Flich's hangees had fallen on top of it. He walked over to the door, which looked as though some of Filch's hangees had walked into it, looked left, then right, then back at me, and motioned for me to follow him.

He slowly made his way to Filch's desk, which looked as though some of Filch's hangees had let a troll loose on it, threw it into a fire, then transfigured it back together carelessly. He grabbed onto the handle of the drawer that we had just watched him shove the old "mysterious" parchment into and pulled. Nothing.

Alohomora! I thought, pointing my wand at the drawer. "Try it now," I whispered to George.

He easily pulled the drawer open and, after rummaging through the messy, burnt, troll-beaten drawer for a moment, pulled the parchment our and stuck it in the pocket of his robes.

We tip-toed quickly back to our beaten chairs and acted as though we were rewriting cards just in time for Filch to burst through the doors and grumble "Go, Weasleys."

Both of us simultaneously got up out of our chairs (the beaten ones) and made our way to the familiar hallways.

"You know, George, we should be proud of what we've done." I said.

"What did we do, Fred?" he responded.

"We took the mysterious parchment from Filch." I replied, putting unnecessary emphasis on some of my words.

"Why are you talking like this?" he asked, mimicking my emphasis problem.

"I dunno."

"So what do you think it does?"

"I dunno."

"Well, why would Filch be reading it for two straight hours, then getting up after random intervals and mumbling about punishing people?"

"I dunno. Maybe he's delusional."

"Good point."

By then we had made it to the Gryffindor portrait hole. "Balderdash." The Fat Lady opened up and allowed us to climb in before closing again.

We made our way to the first year dorms and plopped down on beds. No one was around, as all of them were at dinner, whilst we served our detention to Filch.

George took out the parchment and tapped it with his wand. "Reveal yourself." Nothing. I stifled a laugh. "Open sesame." Nothing. I let a chuckle slip. "We just want to know what you do!" Absolutely nothing. I laughed. "Why don't you have a go at it, eh?"

I pulled my wand out of the pocket of my robe. "Mischief makers unite!" The parchment flickered and the words "you're getting closer" scrawled themselves across the page. "I swear I'm not Filch." That jerked "closer" out of the bewitched parchment.

Once more I tapped my wand to the yellowed, dog-eared parchment. "My name is Fred Weasley. I make more mischief than anyone in this school. Just tell me what to do."

Out of nowhere, the parchment flickered to life and the words "Marauder's Map" were suddenly visible. Then, it died down again and faded back to its original, worse-than-Filch's-office self.

"Your turn, George."

He spun his wand in a figure eight between his fingers, pondering what to say. "I swear that I am up to mischief."

Again the parchment revealed a piece of its hidden information. The words "tail" and "moon" were visible for a split second, a time so brief that if you were to blink, you'd have missed it.

I took a deep breathe tapped the parchment with my wand and spoke. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at that, we had cracked it. Ink flooded the page in intricate lines and squiggles, forming letters, and finally words. After about three minutes, the "Marauder's Map" was completely visible.

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

Are proud to present:

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

We each took a flap and opened it up, revealing a detailed map of Hogwarts. There was all of the rooms, all of the secret passageways, and even all of the people.

By studying the map you could tell that Professor Snape was in his office; Professor McGonagall was sitting in the headmaster's office, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to return from the…bathroom; Madam Pomfrey was tending to Lee Jordan in the Hospital Wing; Professor Flitwick was talking to Hagrid in Professor Sprout's garden; she was in her office with Alicia Spinnet; Oliver Wood was in the library; most of the other students were in the house common rooms or dorms, except for a few in the hallways with students from other houses, and the occasional peer in the library.

"George, it's-"

"Beautiful!"

We both broke out in fits of laughter. Even Moaning Myrtle was visible. Peeves, the Bloody Baron, the Grey Lady, the Fat Friar, and Nearly-Headless Nick were too.

"George, whoever made this, whoever these Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail people are they're-"

"I know, Fred, they're geniuses in my book too."

"George, one tiny problem."

"Huh?"

"How do you turn it off?"

"Easy, tap it with your wand and say the magic words."

"Which are?"

"ʻI solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"

I tapped my wand to it again and repeated George's words.

"No go, brother."

He tried. "You're right."

"Well, we've managed enough mischief for tonight."

"Wait! Fred, maybe that's it!"

"What? Tonight?"

He shook his head. "No."

He tapped his wand to the map again. "Mischief managed." At that, it was gone, faster than it had appeared.

"Genius."

"Why thank you, Fred."

"Not you! These marauders."

"Oh, right. Geniuses."

And we slipped the parchment in one of our trunks in enough time to act natural before everyone came back from dinner. Although, if you really knew us, we were a little to giddy, as Lee so kindly pointed out.