Harry, Ron and Hermione were very busy and getting busier at every opportunity – but had to pretend otherwise. The amount of people who had noticed their suspicious behaviour meant that they had to find time for their extracurricular activities away from prying eyes. They were trying to spend more time in the common room with the rest of their school mates until the end of term.
The Christmas holidays were only two weeks away, the rain had finally let up, Flitwick had begun decorating the castle, and both of Harry's friends had signed up to stay at Hogwarts with him. There was another Hogsmeade weekend coming up on the very last weekend of the term, and while Ron and Hermione were planning their Christmas shopping, Harry was contemplating how to buy a broom.
Harry felt he was neglecting quidditch training, because he had to insist on leaving early enough on Mondays and Fridays to go assist Snape with the Wolfsbane potion. So he felt he ought to get a new broom as soon as possible to reassure Oliver that he was just as invested as the rest of the team in winning the Quidditch Cup. He did not mind sneaking out of school to go to Hogsmeade, but the trouble was how to sneak the broom back into the school – not to mention how to explain its existence to everyone later on.
Ron and Harry, at least, had decided to take a break from learning the animagus transformation until the end of term, but Hermione was a different matter. It had been an uncomfortable realisation for her that Harry had suddenly overtaken her progress during their visit to London. She was working on it every free minute – precious few though there were, considering her five electives – and had found another word during their talk with Hagrid: 'justice'.
This was in reference to the Malfoys' lack thereof, and Hermione, convinced that Hagrid was right about Lucius Malfoy planning something nasty, was looking for ways to counteract him. She, Harry and Ron had also begun keeping a closer eye on Malfoy, in hopes he knew something and they might be able to deduce something from his behaviour.
Yet, with all that going on, as soon as the weather improved, Hermione brought up their duelling and their physical exercises. She had brought back a couple books from the library in 12 Grimmauld Place, which turned out to be spell books. Taking advantage of the sunshine they were having, she had organised a training session outside, braving the encroaching winter chill. Harry and Ron knew she planned to invite Neville along, but seeing Ginny join them on the way out of the castle was a surprise.
Hermione shushed him before Ron could complain. She let Neville and Ginny precede them, before telling her friends, "Last night, I was planning to talk to her again about – well—" Hermione furtively glanced at Neville. "And Ginny was about to leave the common room – at quite a late hour. Turns out, she and that boy who was petrified last year – Colin – are having remedial lessons!"
Hermione was maybe not as quiet as she would have liked, and Harry suspected Ginny might have heard her, but she did her best not to let it show.
"So what, Hermione? Are we supposed to help her with her lessons now?" Ron was not even trying to be particularly quiet.
This time, Ginny's frame visibly stiffened, and she turned to Neville, beginning to awkwardly introduce herself.
"Well, it'll be good for us to have multiple attackers – once she's improved a little," Hermione hissed back, almost managing to be sufficiently quiet.
Harry was ambivalent about their expanding group, but decided to see how things would develop before voicing any objections.
As was usual for them, Hermione began outlining the material they wanted to focus on, both long-term and in that session. Then at some point Harry found himself taking over, giving the instructions for the actual exercises. Hermione's plan was ambitious. She wanted the three of them to be able to cast counters for common duelling spells while being attacked. Ginny actually laughed, hearing this, thinking that Hermione was joking – or at least exaggerating.
"I think she means it," Neville told her with a rueful shake of his head. "I didn't think they were actually learning the shield charm last year, when they told me – but they proved me wrong soon enough."
Ginny looked daunted at hearing this, and fell silent.
Harry began with physical exercises, as usual. Neville tended to hate those the most, and he was considerably worse than even Hermione. In fact, the gap between them had grown since the year before, they soon discovered. Hermione's fitness had visibly improved over the last few months since going back to duelling practice. Ginny turned out to be a lot more athletic than expected. She was much better than Neville, and even Hermione. The Weasley siblings spent the entire session competing for the second place after Harry. By the end of the exercises, Ginny's confidence had grown as well, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.
Once magic got involved, her confidence took a hit. Hermione reminded her that she was a year younger than the rest of them, but even with that, the gaps in her knowledge were noticeable. Neville, who was already used to feeling left behind when training with them, managed to be encouraging without seeming to be trying.
By the end of the session, Harry was beginning to agree with Hermione. The larger group made for more intense training, even with Ginny and Neville not being at their skill level.
~HP~
As the Hogsmeade weekend grew nearer, Harry began preparing for his secret broom shopping in earnest. As usual when planning to sneak out of the castle, he sought Sirius' advice, who was encouraging and was even suggesting they meet up – until Harry mentioned his main reason for wanting to go.
Sirius became discouraging as soon as he saw a copy of Which Broomstick in Harry's hand, borrowed from Oliver. He brought up the problem of explaining the origins of the broom, which Harry himself had been worried about, but he had also been hopeful that Sirius might help him avoid suspicion. However, his godfather made it sound like the risk was not worth it.
Frustrated, Harry brought his friends along for support the next evening, hoping to make his godfather see sense.
Before Harry could start talking about brooms, however, Sirius turned the conversation to Pettigrew. He had been busy tracking the rat, he said. But all signs were pointing to Pettigrew hiding with the Malfoys, which made him more or less untouchable for the moment. Then Sirius brought up the mystery object Dumbledore was hiding that Pettigrew seemed to be after.
"The headmaster usually stays at the school throughout the year, but technically his home address is a room in his brother's Hog's Head Inn," Sirius told them. "It's a long shot, of course – because Dumbledore barely ever visits his brother at the pub, much less live there—"
"What, you think whatever that thing is, is hidden there?" said Harry.
"Not really." Sirius grimaced. "I'm just annoyed that I can't just go and check – exclude the possibility – because of the dementors in Hogsmeade." Not wanting to dwell on his frustration, he turned the conversation back to Harry.
Harry, in turn, promptly brought up his need of a broom. Ron had been just as surprised to hear that Sirius needed convincing in the first place and had come prepared to argue Harry's case. Hermione was a different matter. She would have been cautioning against breaking the rules anyway, but more than that, she seemed disinclined to argue against Sirius. To top it off, she brought up their busy schedules, saying that they really did not have time to properly plan everything. For once, she really did sound frustrated at the amount of work she needed to do.
"You do have a lot of extracurricular projects," Sirius conceded. "The thing is, they all sound useful to me – even helping Snape with Moony's potion. Perhaps even more useful than one or two of your electives…" he suggested carefully.
Hermione did not bite his head off for suggesting that, the way she had been doing when Ron told her the same. She looked ready to argue for a moment, but then her shoulders sank and she sighed. Still, all she would concede was that she could hardly wait until the holidays.
Harry brought the topic back to his broom shopping, but had soon had enough after Hermione agreed with another unlikely argument his godfather had made.
"This is insane! Sirius, are you really telling me that you're alright with me sneaking into Hogsmeade for, for I don't know what nonsense! But if I want to actually get something I need from there, you think it's too much risk? I mean, don't you want me to buy a new broom? The next quidditch match isn't that long after the holidays and—"
Harry stopped ranting when he noticed the strange caught-in-the-act expression on his godfather's face. Looking around, Ron was frowning as he felt like doing, but Hermione had a look of dawning horror on her face.
"What, you don't want me to buy a broom?" Harry asked in an off-hand manner, not at all thinking that it had been that question that had caused the odd reaction in the first place.
Sirius, to his surprise, made a sniffing sound of assent. He looked frustrated, resigned, almost angry with himself.
"What? You don't? Why ever not?" Harry was beginning to feel exasperated.
"Well, make an educated guess," was Sirius' part-annoyed, part-embarrassed reply.
"Oh, no. You didn't," burst out Hermione, then quickly looked contrite, still wrong-footed around Sirius.
Before Harry could ask what she was getting at, he noticed a look of dawning realisation on Ron's face.
"You already bought one, didn't you?" said Ron, a note of envy creeping into his voice. He himself heard it, becoming embarrassed, before grinning awkwardly at Harry, ready to cheer with him.
Sirius nodded. "It's going to be your Christmas present, Harry, and I meant for it to be a surprise—" He grimaced, shooting a look at Hermione. "Anyway, it'll be an anonymous delivery. It was all done by mail order – with little to no chance to trace it back to me—"
Hermione was clearly, visibly struggling to hold herself back. She was not entirely successful. "But, well, how's Harry to explain where the broom came from?"
"Why not just leave it as an anonymous present?" said Ron.
"Well, that's just it! That'd be really suspicious. Everyone'd think it might be from Sirius!"
"No they wouldn't. Sirius isn't thought to be overly fond of Harry—"
"But he mightn't have sent it for good reasons!" was Hermione's comeback.
Harry felt his enthusiasm ebb a little, having to concede her point.
Ron grimaced as well, but then he perked up. "Nah. Who'd spend that much money on some sort of trap? And something so obvious as well. Everyone knows Harry's the youngest seeker, and all that. Besides, it's not like it'll be the first time Harry receives an anonymous broom delivery—"
Harry had not even considered how expensive brooms were until Ron had brought it up. "Sirius, how did you have the money for a broom—"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't worry about that – the one thing I've got right now is money. Of course I bought you a broom," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The way you fly, Harry… I've only seen you during a couple quidditch matches, but the very thought of you left without a broom – especially when it was my stupid attempt to trap Pettigrew that cost you yours—" Sirius shook his head. "Of course you were bound to be a bird animagus…" he added under his breath.
Hermione looked like she was about to say something, but she held herself back, her unwillingness to argue with Sirius winning out.
"You used to play quidditch yourself. As a beater, right?" Ron said before she had made up her mind.
"I wasn't that great at flying, to be honest," said Sirius. "But I was an excellent beater. None of our rival seekers stood a chance against our volley of bludgers. Especially my brother. Scrawny git that he was, he ended up playing seeker for Slytherin, but I made sure to make him understand why that had been a bad idea." He went on to elaborate – in fairly violent terms – until he finally noticed his listeners' expressions – especially Harry's. His grin turned into something of a grimace, as he realised his comments about seekers might have been a little inappropriate in front of a seeker.
Harry, Ron and Hermione could not help but laugh at the very unusual sight of a contrite Sirius.
~HP~
Snape hesitated before dismissing them on Monday. "The holidays start in a week," he began. "I'm aware that all three of you will be staying here. I'm not sure how you three intend to spend all that free time – Evidence from the previous years suggests nothing good. So. I'm wondering if you'd be interested in spending more time on the Wolfsbane potion."
Harry looked at his friends. They had plans for the holidays, and needed the extra time. He had barely thought that refusing Snape's request might not end well, when he had to mentally correct himself. Over the past weeks, he and his friends had said plenty to Snape that seemed to anger the already surly potions master. They had outright argued with him, especially about Lupin. And yet, Snape had never reacted the way he usually did when anybody – especially one of them – challenged him in class. He had never punished them in any way.
"You'd be able to get involved in the actual brewing, in that case," said Snape before any of them had managed to say anything coherent. "I don't have time to explain enough during the term time to trust you lot with anything more serious than preparing or passing along the ingredients. So. If at least some of you are actually interested in the potion, rather than merely trying to help Lupin—"
Hermione was bouncing on the spot before Snape had even stopped talking. "Oooh, really? I thought the potion was far too advanced for us—" She sent the boys eager looks, knowing better than to commit without their agreement.
Harry and Ron exchanged helpless looks. They would never hear the end of it if they did not agree. Hermione easily interpreted their looks and enthusiastically told Snape to count on their help.
The week passed in a blur of school work, quidditch training, duelling practice with Ginny and Neville, another session of helping with the Wolfsbane on Friday night, and more quidditch and duelling on Saturday. Then it was finally done. The mad, exhausting term had ended.
Almost.
Sunday morning, Harry awoke with the anticipation of the illicit Hogsmeade trip, planned thoroughly with Sirius' help. Finally, finally he would get to see the village. He calmly listened to the happy chatter of his year mates, without the envy of before. He answered Hermione's worried, warning looks with confident smiles. The butterflies in his stomach were all due to excitement.
He made sure to have plenty of witnesses when he saw Ron and Hermione out of the castle, the both of them wrapped in cloaks and scarves. He then went back up the marble staircase, to his dorm, quickly grabbed his own cloak, and headed right back down again, to the third-floor corridor with the statue of the one-eyed witch. If all went according to plan, he would be arriving in Hogsmeade before Ron and Hermione, he thought excitedly.
Witness his surprise when he found Fred and George peering out at him from behind that very statue.
Harry tried dismally to turn around, make it look like he was headed anywhere but there, well aware how useless that was. Fred and George had been the ones to tell him of the secret passage in the first place. They waved at him, gesturing for him to get closer with cheeky smiles.
Resignedly, Harry did just that. "What are you doing here? Why haven't you gone to Hogsmeade?" Rather than spy on me, he did not add.
"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink, and led Harry towards an empty classroom to the left of the statue.
Beaming, George closed the door behind them, while Fred produced a very familiar piece of parchment with a flourish. Their grins turned sly as Harry's eyes widened in recognition.
"Early Christmas present for you, Harry," said George. "I don't think we need to explain why this is the secret to our success."
"Or that we wouldn't want to part from it for just any reason. It's a wrench, giving it up, but we talked it over last night and decided your need is greater," said Fred.
"Anyway, we know it by heart – as we first discovered last year when we had to do without," said George.
"And we still think that was the wrong side of cheeky, by the way," added Fred. "But we don't really need it anymore. So we've generously decided to let you have it, instead of punishing you for admitting that you stole it from us—"
"Well, we did nick it ourselves, Fred," said George reasonably.
"The Marauders do approve of that," Harry could not resist saying.
"Do they, now?" came Fred's sour reply. "Did they cheer you on last year, when they found themselves in your company?"
Harry shrugged non-committally.
"Wouldn't tell us where the map had been, last year," said George. "They must've found you three mighty entertaining to keep your secrets."
Fred took in Harry's pleased look and shook his head. "Makes no sense, that. What with you three spending all your free time around Snape—"
"The Marauders do have some choice words to say about that git," said George.
"It's mutual, isn't it? Remember when we asked Snape if he knew them?" Fred responded to his brother, then seeing Harry's surprised look, he explained how he and his twin had found the Marauders' Map in Filch's office in their first year, after setting off Dungbombs in the corridor, and how they had made their escape by dropping another Dungbomb, and grabbing the map from the filing cabinet marked as Confiscated and Highly Dangerous. "We tried to find out who the Marauders were after that. Asked the older students, and finally all the teachers—"
"The students didn't know, and the teachers wouldn't tell us, but we think they might know something—"
"Especially Snape. Had a bit of a fit—"
"Gave us detention—"
"Not that that's unusual," drawled Fred. "Never gone a month without him giving us detention, have we, George?"
"I'm sure we haven't, Fred. See, Harry, we also spend a fair amount of time with the git outside of class—"
"But in our case it isn't voluntary."
"So imagine how we felt when Snape – not only gave us detention this week – just days before the holidays – but then had to reschedule – from Friday evening to yesterday!"
"Saturday, Harry. He made us sit through a detention on the weekend before we head home! Because he was 'busy' on Friday—"
"With whatever you three do when you meet with him." George tried for a disgruntled tone, but was clearly curious.
"Wonder what he'd do if we mentioned to him what great fans of the Marauders these three are." Fred's smirk at his off-hand suggestion froze on his face at the sudden alarm on Harry's face.
"Merlin, you really have turned into a teacher's pet," said a dismayed George.
Harry could agree, let the moment pass. It had been a completely off-hand suggestion, Fred and George had no intention of doing anything of the sort, and they clearly had not guessed what had alarmed Harry, either. Still. A thought had occurred to him – a disquieting thought that he had not considered before.
"When you asked Snape about the Marauders, did you mention their nicknames to him?" Harry tried to sound mildly curious, and almost succeeded.
The twins hesitated, looked at each other, becoming aware of the change in the tone of the conversation.
As soon as he had asked it, Harry knew the answer must be no. Otherwise, Snape would have deduced Sirius' animagus form right away.
"We didn't come that far," Fred replied slowly. "Why? Should we have?"
"No." Harry's reply had been too swift, too eager. "I mean, er—"
Another look was exchanged between the twins, followed by speculative looks at the younger boy. Harry might have reconsidered at that point, but George connected the dots. The thought had barely begun to crystallize in his head, when Harry's sneakoscope went off, as good as confirming George's suspicion.
"Harry, how did you – or Ron or Hermione – find out about the Marauders' Map?" he finally asked.
His twin's eyes swivelled from him to Harry and back, connecting his brother's question with the sneakoscope going off. "No," was all Fred said. His eyes, equal parts hungry and disbelieving were fused on Harry, as if the younger boy held the mysteries of the world.
In a manner of speaking, Harry did. He knew the one mystery the other boys were actually interested in. Harry hastily reached into his coat pocket to forcibly stop the sneakoscope from spinning, to quieten it – and keep it from driving a hole through the pocket. He grimaced, but there was a grin – a smirk, really – threatening at the corners of his mouth. "We may have met one of the map's creators," he finally confirmed with an affected little shrug, then watched the disbelief, envy and overeager excitement war almost comically on the twins' faces.
"No way," Fred said once again. "After all we tried—" He looked to his twin for support. "There's no way you three found out – somehow."
"Who are they supposed to be, then?" George asked. He was even worse than his brother at masking his curiosity.
"Now that'd be telling," Harry said hastily. It would not do to tell them that Padfoot was hunted by all of magical Britain. Before the twins could turn angry, he amended, "It'd be unsporting – unworthy of the Marauders."
Fred scowled, then snorted, tried to look disbelieving. "Sure. Yeah. You know who they are, you just can't tell us because it'd be unsporting." He rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion.
"No, I'm telling the truth. I – we – that is, Ron, Hermione and I – do know who the Marauders are. Tell you what," said Harry, thinking fast. "I can give you hints. One per week – during term time. In exchange, you promise not to talk about them to anyone. For a little while." The Christmas holidays would begin the following day. That would leave him enough time to come up with hints that were not too telling, but still felt like he was giving away useful information.
"Let's hear it, then," said George. "What's the hint?"
Harry forced himself not to look away from the almost angry, expectant faces, to not appear untrustworthy. He could not say too much, but he needed the twins to believe him. "You… have run into… all but one of them – in the time I've known you," he said.
"Not buying it," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "The wizarding world isn't that large. It's an easy guess to make that we've probably run into them somewhere like Diagon Alley at some point."
"No, no. You've…" Harry reconsidered saying that they had been around one of them – Padfoot – without anyone else present. He decided it would be safest if he said as little as possible about Sirius. "You've been properly introduced to one of them. You know him by name, I mean," he finally settled on saying. Giving them hints about Lupin was probably the safest option.
Fred and George finally dropped the facade of disbelief and disinterest. They looked hungry for more, and more than a little frustrated with Harry's unwillingness to talk.
"Can you believe it, George?" said Fred. "They've known for who knows how long, and haven't told us!"
George shook his head. "Now that's what I call unsporting."
"You think we can make them talk?" said Fred, looking Harry the way he usually did at their rival seekers during quidditch matches.
"You don't think you can guess, then?" said Harry. He affected an innocent look, but a smirk was once again lurking behind it.
"You cheeky little troll," said George, followed by an involuntary, snorting laugh.
"Fine. Let us guess. Enjoy our suffering," said Fred. "But there's a fair few weeks before we come back to Hogwarts. So don't think we'll let you get away with such a paltry hint next time."
Harry shrugged philosophically. Then turned serious. "So you promise then? Not to talk about the Marauders?"
He knew he sounded too eager, could see the twins notice the change of the tone of the conversation, but that was unavoidable. He trusted them to know to be careful if something was important. They had more than proved that they trusted Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry decided a little honesty would be best.
Fred and George exchanged a look. "I solemnly swear," they said together, half smirking, but clearly meaning it.
They turned towards the door, asked Harry if he needed help using the map by some chance, shook their heads at Harry's smirking denial and left, with a parting shot of, "See you in Honeydukes," from George.
Harry did not waste any time. He checked the map, then carefully stuffed it in his robes, before leaving the classroom himself. A moment later, he had entered the secret passage and was walking to Hogsmeade. The uncomfortable passage went on for longer than he remembered, and he was aware that his friends were probably worried what was taking him so long. No matter. They now had two maps at their disposal, he realised suddenly, cheerfully, and such problems were about to become a thing of the past. Ron and Hermione would have a map to keep track of him from then on.
Harry had barely reached the cellar of Honeydukes, when he heard a woman's voice say, "And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out—" This was followed by a man coming down the stairs. Harry used the opportunity to sneak past him, hidden under his invisibility cloak, and made it into the crowded front of the shop.
There were so many people around that he chanced taking off his invisibility cloak. Then he had to squeeze himself through a crowd of sixth years to the farthest corner of the shop, under a sign that read UNUSUAL TASTES, where Ron and Hermione were examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops.
"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying.
"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.
"Definitely not," said Harry.
Ron nearly dropped the jar and Hermione gave a little squeal. Then they began asking Harry about his delay, and Harry told them about his talk with Fred and George, making sure to drop his voice so that the sixth years would not be able to hear him.
Ron said a rude word. "How are we to come up with clues that'll satisfy Fred and George, but still won't be so obvious that they'll guess right away who the Marauders are?"
"But we can't give them real clues," said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "They might end up guessing we've met Sirius!"
"They're the Marauders' biggest fans," said Harry. "They won't believe one of their heroes is a mass-murderer."
Ron nodded. "And even if they do guess Sirius is Padfoot, we can probably convince them that Sirius is innocent. They never liked Scabbers."
"You don't know that!" insisted Hermione. "And even if we did finally convince them – all it'd take would be one foolish thing said to the wrong person. The more people know—"
"Fred and George don't know anything incriminating yet," said Ron. "And Harry's right. They could've said something dangerous without knowing who the Marauders are."
"Yes, but – but—" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another argument. "Why not just tell your brothers not to talk about the Marauders without giving them hints? We're talking about a confiscated artefact – the Marauders' Map. Why would they want to mention it – or its creators – to others?"
"They'd know there's something we're not telling them. It might annoy them enough to try to find out what we're hiding by doing the exact opposite of what we told them to do." Ron shook his head. "Come on, Hermione. Harry's solution isn't so bad. The Christmas holidays are around the corner. That'll give us plenty of time to come up with what to tell Fred and George to keep them guessing for a good, long while."
Hermione bit her lip, still looking worried.
Ron decided to put an end to that discussion by pointing out some of the more unusual sweets to Harry. He and Hermione paid for the sweets they had picked, before the three of them left the shop for the blizzard outside.
On the way out, they read the notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door, warning customers that dementors were patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown.