Chapter 31: Marauders

"No, don't you dare," Hannah ordered, glaring. "Besides, why would he know anything?"

"He's Harry Potter, of course he'd know something about this! Snape was captured and tortured by You-Know-Who, you can't tell me Harry wouldn't know something about it."

She rolled her eyes, "Well, yes, I suppose. But that still doesn't make it fair for you to rush up to him and bombard him with questions! What would you ask anyway?"

Justin shrugged. "What happened maybe? The condition Snape's in? He's not fit to teach, so obviously something's up."

Dinner had just finished and Hannah and Justin were among the huge crowd of students travelling up the staircase. Had it been in a Muggle school, the crowd would have come to an almost complete stop by now, with the amount of people all trying to go to same place at the same time. But, Hogwarts was better than that. The staircase subtly widened to meet its traffic demands, though most students didn't realise it at all.

Hannah and Justin weren't the only ones discussing the case of their Potions Professor either. A dead silence had followed Dumbledore's announcement during the meal, but it was barely minutes later that conversation was sizzling again. Students were leaning across the tables, all swapping the same shocked questions and confused expressions.

By the time they had left the hall, theories had begun to form and were being passed from friend to friend. Snape was in the hospital wing, he'd lost his memory. Voldemort had let Snape go, to spy on the school. Harry had helped Snape escape using powers that he was supposed to keep secret. Harry was no longer top of Voldemort's hit list, Snape was. The list of outlandish rumours went on.

Inside the common room, Harry was approached so many times - even by first years he barely knew – that he decided to retire to the dorm room to seek some peace. He looked gloomily at Ron's empty bed and fell back onto his own pillows. He was surprised to find himself yawning and before long, he was asleep.

Remus however, was slowly stirring. Gentle smells and sounds played with his senses and he blinked his eyes open, looking blearily around him. Suddenly, he spluttered, snapped his eyes wide open and pushed himself to a sitting position with a yelp.

"Sorry!" Talia gasped pulling the cold sponge away from his face.

"Oh. It's you," He sighed and lowered himself back down onto the couch, suppressing a groan when something in his back shuddered. "Gave me a bit of a shock there."

"I know. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

Remus shook his head slowly, trying his best not to provoke a migraine. "When did I fall asleep?"

"About an hour ago."

"An hour? Why did you stay?"

"Why would I leave? I was half way through making both of us a meal. If I left I'd have to start one all over again. And besides, what kind of woman would I be if I left you here to lie in pain?"

"I'm not in pain."

"Yes you are, Remus," she said firmly, placing the sponge back on his forehead. "Don't pretend this doesn't hurt you. I know it does. Your food's in the kitchen. Tell me when you feel ready to eat it."

"Ok. Talia?"

"Mmm?" she answered, turning around to re-apply a soothing charm to the sponge.

"Talia?"

"Yes?" she turned around, looking at him, though avoiding direct eye-contact carefully.

"Thank you."

"Oh, it's nothing! Quite all right, you don't have to thank me," she said turning back around and dipping the sponge into water. "I'm perfectly happy doing this for you. It's completely fine, don't go thinking I'm doing you a big favour." The speed of her speech was rapidly increasing as she wrung the sponge out. "You deserve all I give you. You don't need to thank me," she repeated, turning back around and tossing her head to throw some hair out of her face. "It's fine."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lupin said, closing his eyes. "I do need to thank you. You're wonderful to me." Talia dabbed the sponge over his eyes and said nothing.

It wasn't until gone midnight, when the rest of the dorm was fast asleep that Harry started to drift into consciousness. It took him a full 20 second to remember why he was lying on his bed with his clothes and shoes still on. Not tired in the slightest, he got up and helped himself to some water as he stood and stared up at the night sky; expanding forever, full of mysteries, of questions and answers. The stars glistened down on the world and the cloudy strip, speckled with white and silver dots, a spiral of the milky way, lay waiting, watching. Harry's eyes drifted down towards Canis Major, a constellation he'd spotted in Hermione astronomy book the other night. He'd remembered it purely because of one its stars; the brightest star in the sky, which much to his surprise was called Sirius.

His mind floated in and out of thought for around 10 seconds, while Sirius shone radiantly down on him. He found it ironic that Sirius, who was named after a Dog Star was an animagus who turned into none other than a dog.

Thinking of Padfoot suddenly reminded him of one rolled up piece of parchment waiting in his drawer. It was about time he did what Lupin had been asking him to do for days now – study the Marauders Map.

He sat on a table near the fire place, his wand lying beside his parchment to light it. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The names of the four creators wrote themselves across the sheet, introducing the map. Once the corridors and passageways were all drawn and the dots in place Harry stared blankly at it. What was he supposed to do now?

The map sat patiently. Apart from one, labelled 'Mrs Norris', not a single dot was moving in the castle. Harry ran his fingers through his hair and moved his eyes over the entire sheet. Nothing. Come on, think. He picked up his wand and twisted it in his fingers, but still – no ideas came. The map stayed perfectly still, not helping in the slightest. "All right mischief managed," Harry muttered, fed up of staring at the same lines whilst his mind tried sluggishly to think of anything brilliant to do.

He leant back in his chair, annoyed and tapping his wand on the edge of the desk. But then, looking upon the now blank parchment, a sudden memory came to him. It was of Snape, yelling at the map to show itself – and of the Marauder's writing back with insults. Harry suddenly sat forward, the chair legs scraping on the ground and leant towards the map.

"I order this parchment to reveal its contents," he said clearly. Nothing happened. "Um … I want to talk to the creators of the map." Harry thought he saw the grains shiver a little, but brushed it aside as a reflection of the fire place. He waited, still nothing happened. "I'd like to talk to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, please."

He waited again. Then, just when he was about to give up, a single sentence scribbled along to top of the page.

Mr Padfoot demands to know who disturbs him, and what his business is.

Harry grinned. "I'm Harry, I need to talk to you."

There was a pause.

Mr Wormtail speaks on behalf of all the Marauders when he asks why, and who 'Harry' is.

"I'm Harry Potter and Professor Lupin told me to."

The paper shivered again. Another line appeared below the first two.

Mr Wormtail requests you repeat your name.

"Harry Potter."

The parchment was still. It took a long time for another sentence to appear, and when it did, it wasn't written like any of the others.

Do you know a James Potter?

Harry smiled. "He was my Dad."

The map took a very long time to answer again.

MrProngs begs for an explanation.

Harry frowned for a second. "It's 1996. I'm Harry Potter, son of James Potter. Professor Remus Lupin gave me this map because he needs to know how to make another one and wants me to find out how."

Professor Lupin?

"Yes. He teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts."

… wants to make another map?

"Yes. But not of this school. We need one of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley and the Ministry."

Mr Padfoot bids you explain why a Marauder cannot make another map, and why you need maps of those locations at all.

"Well, Voldemort's come back into power and we need to be able to keep a look-out on those areas in case the Death Eaters decide to attack. And he can't do it on his own. He needs all four of you to do it."

Well why can't we help him?

Harry stared. He couldn't tell them two were dead and one was traitor. "You're busy. Auror business."

Mr Wormtail is impressed. We're Aurors?

"James and Sirius w- are. You work for the Ministry."

Oh.

There was another long pause where no-one spoke. Harry was about to ask if they could help him when another line of writing began.

Mr Prongs wants to ask a question.

"Yes?"

Who's your mother?

Harry beamed. "Lily Evans." Instantly, ink popped up all over the page, the handwriting rushed.

Lily Evans?

Lily! Hah, way to go Prongs!

Who would have thought?

Nice work!

Shut up you lot. Are you sure it's Lily?

"Yes. Positive. I look exactly like you only with her eyes."

Mr Padfoot would like to prnounce his shock at this strange revelation ;)
Mr Prongs would like to give Mr Padfoot a good slap around the head.
Mr Padfoot would like to duck.
Mr Prongs reminds Mr Padfoot that my reflexes are faster than yours! :P
Mr Moony would like to add that that's only by 0.03 seconds.
Mr Prongs would like Mr Moony to keep his nose out.
Mr Wormtail laughs.

"And Mr Potter would like to interrupt."

Sorry. Yes?

"Can you tell me how to er – get the map to recognise people so the dots have name labels?"

There was a long silence, during which the paper shivered once or twice.

No.

Harry stared. "Why not?"

How do we know we can trust you?

Shut up Mr Padfoot. This is my son we're talking about.

We don't know that for sure.

Mr Moony suggests we ask him some questions to prove his identity.

Mr Padfoot agrees.

"Um, ok … what do you want to know?"

What is Mr Prongs' favourite lesson?

Harry didn't know. He looked at the parchment, biting his lip. His Dad's favourite lesson. How was he supposed to know that?

Mr Padfoot demands to know what is taking Mr Potter so long.

Harry pressed his fingers to his forehead and rubbed his temples. He had absolutely no idea. No, wait! He did! He knew his dad's wand was best for Transfiguration work … it was his best bet.

"Transfiguration."

Mr Padfoot acknowledges that your answer is correct but points out that it took you far too long.

Mr Wormtail has another question.

"Yes?"

When is Mr Prongs' birthday?

Harry's stomach dipped. He didn't know. He couldn't believe he didn't even know his father's birthday. He closed his eyes and bit his lip in frustration. "I don't know," he admitted.

Mr Padfoot does not believe this person is Harry Potter.

Harry sighed heavily.

Mr Moony does…

He blinked disbelievingly. He was about to thank him when he was distracted by another line of ink.

… but would like to ask him one more question.

"Yes?"

Why did you say James 'was' your Dad?

Harry's mouth fell open and his mind raced back to the beginning of the conversation. 'Do you know a James Potter?' 'He was my dad' … 'He was my Dad'…. He looked down at the waiting parchment, feeling oddly ill. Finally he muttered, "I have to go," and with one flick of his wand, wiped the parchment clean and shoved it into his pocket.