A Prankster? Me?

Hermione looked crossly at the three boys who were giving her the puppy-dog eyed look. Remus and Peter were chuckling at their friends' attempts to sway Hermione.

"Why don't you ask Remus? After all, he can come up with a spell as well as I can." Hermione flicked her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms, keeping her giggles to herself. "Better yet, why don't you look up the spells yourself."

Sirius and James looked scandalized and Harry just looked frightened at the prospect of more studying. "Mine, you know the library makes us ill!" Sirius moaned, falling onto his knees to grovel. "Please?"

"Please, please don't make us sick!" James quickly caught on and joined his friend on the floor.

Harry looked at his two friends and then looked at Hermione. "I love you, Hermione. I'm not going to grovel, though."

She patted his cheek, "I didn't think you would, Harry. You can just head to the library first. I'm sure the other two will be there shortly."

"No!" Came the two loud shouts from the floor while Harry's eyes widened.

"Please, Mine! You said it was a simple spell," Sirius pouted, and Hermione almost gave into her laughter, but she held firm.

"I'm sure it is easy for her," Peter threw in.

"Aww, Mickey, why do you have to be on her side?"

He chuckled, "Because it's more..." Peter cast a glance over at Hermione before changing his choice of words, "Because she's right of course."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on the boy. "Why do I have the suspicion that you changed what you were going to say."

"Because you're always right?" He gave her a brilliant smile and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, I'll let you slide this one time." She moved past the two on the floor and hooked her arm through Remus'. "Let's get going. It's our turn to patrol." As they walked by the two still kneeling on the floor, Hermione had the map fly into her hands. "When you can tell me which spell I need to use, I'll add it."

Peter moved over to poke James in the side, making the boy fall over laughing, his glasses - which he had to get a few weeks earlier - fell off his face. "Bloody hell, these stupid things! Bolt, how do you live with them?" Those were the last words Hermione heard as the Fat Lady's portrait shut behind them.

"Hermione," Remus chuckled as he took his arm away from her to wrap it across her shoulders drawing her closer to him. "What do you think they'll do once they realize that you've already cast the spell on the map?"

She shrugged as she laughed, "Not sure. It shouldn't take them too long to figure out it only takes a certain type of memory charm to take some insults they'll write down to mingle with whoever does the magic so the insult fits who's trying to crack it. Then some runes to make sure it's permanent, know whose casting the spell if that person has ever gone to Hogwarts and to make sure the insults are done in a certain way."

"I'd wager it'll take them over a month," Remus laughed as they headed down the moving staircases.

"I give them until next year."

"You, my dear, are brutal." Leaning down, Remus kissed the tip of Hermione's nose, making her giggle.

"Oh, you and the others love it."

"That we do."

Mr. Tufts presents his compliments to Professor Dumbledore and begs him to keep his twinkling self out of other people's business.

Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Tufts and would like to add that Professor Dumbledore is meddling again.

Mr. Moony finds himself rather abashed by the brash words provided by Messrs. Tufts and Prongs but can't fault them for their abhorrent, yet accurate, depiction of said Professor.

Mr. Padfoot would like to register his objections with the twinkling and meddling, but his real concern is with the Professor's apparent color blindness.

Lady Bandit wonders just how often that twinkling leads to mischief as said Professor may meddle, but secretly he's a bigger prankster than the six Marauders.

Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Dumbledore a good day, and advises him to wash his beard, they're said to catch crumbs.

"A prankster? Me?" Dumbledore laughed merrily as he read each line that appeared. "Brilliant!"

"We've managed to make an introductory cover as well. Give it a go."

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Dumbledore tapped the map with his wand and his smile broadened as the map revealed itself. He read aloud as the words appeared, "Lady Bandit and Messrs. Moony, Tufts, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present: The Marauder's Map. Lovely work, most excellent spell work. I'm quite proud of you six. Each of you have a put a bit of yourselves into this, I can feel all of your magical signatures. Well, done."

"As much as I'd like to take credit, majority of the work was done by Remus and Hermione." Harry carded his fingertips through Fawkes' feathers. "You mentioned something about memories?"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore folded the map with care and handed it back to Harry, not bothering with the usual 'May I' and 'oohs and aahs' over spellwork. The headmaster folded his hands on his lap and stared at the fire burning brightly in the hearth. "I had a busy summer and have been spending many nights reviewing. I've been back tracking and looking closer at the life of one Tom Riddle." Dumbledore didn't react when Harry stood straighter at the mention of Tom Riddle, but Harry suddenly had the need to sit down, which he did in the floral high back chair.

"Delving into Tom's past I have learned a few things. I started with our first encounter. I went to see him when he was just a boy in the orphanage. He was quite concerned and from all accounts had trouble with other students. He mistakenly thought of me as a doctor which I quickly dispelled and told him about Hogwarts, how he was a wizard and I was a professor at the school.

"Tom didn't believe me at first, not many do but they are eager to hear they aren't alone. I'm sure you were just as relieved as Tom was to learn you weren't the only one to have odd unexplainable things happen to you." Dumbledore paused, but didn't wait for a response; he picked up the teapot and poured another cup for both of them.

"I have gathered memories as well, from others such as a ministry official, Bob Ogden. He met with Tom's grandfather and uncle. I spoke with Tom's ex-employers as well." Dumbledore stirred the honey into his tea and frowned. "I would like to say I understand what drives the man, but I don't. I'm trying to decipher what would make a man create a horcrux or, in Tom's case, more than one. Why the diary? Why use the diadem, if it truly is a horcrux? What else would he have chosen?"

"It was his. The diary was Tom's. He was an orphan. Orphans don't have many personal items, aren't allowed to have nice things and that diary was leatherbound. It was engraved with his full name. The diary was a belonging, his belonging, that meant a great deal to him. I'm sure when he first got it, it was a treasured gift or possession, which explains why it was blank. He wouldn't want to damage its worth and keep it pristine." Harry stared in the depths of the brown liquid in his teacup, missing Dumbledore's surprised reaction, but not the shock in his voice.

"That is a very astute observation." Dumbledore set his teacup down and crossed the office to his cabinet that housed his pensieve. Glancing at the various labeled vials with silver strands, the headmaster plucked one and immediately poured the contents into the bowl. He motioned Harry over and positioned the boy with a warning. "Don't touch the liquid yet. What I need you to do is look into the pensieve, lean forward and allow your body to be tugged inside. Once you're safely within, I will join you and we'll watch it together."

Harry found entering the pensieve a disturbing feat, but not nearly as disconcerting as a portkey. Before the area could be formed into a complete scene, Dumbledore was standing beside him and moving forward toward the house or more accurately a run down shack.

The building was a filthy single story hovel, from what he could see it wasn't more than a few rooms, but there were too many shadows and seeing how Ogden hadn't entered the dwelling, Harry's view within was limited.

Listening to the odd exchange between the three men, Harry quickly translated when the Gaunts started hissing in parseltongue. It was obvious to Harry that the two disgustingly depraved men were mocking the ministry worker and feared for Ogden's safety.

Safely back in Dumbledore's office Harry weaved precariously before gripping the stone pedestal of the pensieve. "Riddle is related to the Gaunt family." Harry wagered and looked up at his headmaster in time to see Dumbledore nod quietly. "Ogden called the older man, Marvolo. I'm guessing that is Tom's doting grandfather."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly before he nodded. "Indeed. Tom's mother, Merope was said to have given Tom Riddle, Sr. a love potion, managed to marry him, get pregnant and then stopped giving him the potion, believing that a child would be enough for him to love her without the potion."

"Let me guess, Tom Sr. ran away, leaving pregnant Mummsy to deal with the spawn alone. I'm guessing Granddad wasn't exactly welcoming." Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his curls. "I can't imagine making me feel sorry for old Voldy will make it easier for me to kill him."

"Nothing ever prepares someone to kill, Harry."