The next Hogsmeade weekend was just before Christmas break began. Technically, Harry wasn't supposed to go, but he had promised Draco that he'd find a way to come. And he had every intention of doing just that. He waited until most of the other students were gone, and then pulled on his invisibility cloak and snuck out of the castle.

As he made his way out of the courtyard, he suddenly felt two strong arms grab him from either side. Fred and George dragged him back towards the castle, despite his protests.

"Come on guy, let me go. I'm going to Hogsmeade."

"We know," they said in unison as the pulled the invisibility cloak off Harry.

"We've got something to help get you there," Fred said with a mysterious wink.

"Early Christmas present for you, Harry."

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish, holding it out to Harry. It was a large, square, very worn-looking piece of blank parchment. Harry took it hesitantly, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes

"What's that supposed to be?"

"This, Harry, is the secret of our success," George told him.

"It's a wrench, giving it to you, but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it by heart," George added. "We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."

Harry stared down at the piece of parchment in his hands. "And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?"

"A bit of old parchment!" Fred closed his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."

"Well...when we were in our first year, Harry – young, carefree, innocent –"

Harry snorted at that. He doubted that Fred and George had ever been innocent.

"…well, more innocent than we are now – we got into a spot of bother with Filch."

"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason –"

"So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual –"

"–detention–"

"–disembowelment–"

"–and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

"Don't tell me–" Harry said, feeling a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Well, what would you've done?" Fred asked. "George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open, and grabbed – this."

"It's not as bad at it sounds, you know. We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how to work it?"

"Oh yes," Fred assured him, smirking. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."

"You're winding me up," Harry said, looking at the ragged old piece of parchment.

"Oh, are we?"

George took out his wand, touching the parchment lightly, and saying, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, crisscrossed, and fanned into every corner of the parchment. Then words began to blossom across the top – great, curly green letters that declared:


Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP




Harry stared in wonder at the map. He could see every detail of the Hogwarts Grounds. Every secret passage, ever staircase… everything. Then he noticed that the map was spotted with small, moving dots. And beside each dot was a name.

"Is that–"

"Dumbledore," Fred confirmed.

"In his study–"

"–pacing."

"He does that a lot."

"Now, there are several passages from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. But we recommend this one." Fred pointed with his wand at a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

"You can take it all the way into Honeydukes cellar."

"And don't forget, when you're done–" Once again George pointed his wand at the map and said in a clear voice, "Mischief managed."

As quickly as they had appeared, the lines of ink vanished, leaving only an old scrape of parchment.

"Well, we've got to going now."

"Have fun."

And with that, the twins vanished, leaving Harry to sneak into Hogsmeade.



Harry managed to make it into Hogsmeade undetected. He had agreed to meet Draco outside the Shrieking Shack – a convenient landmark away from the crowds of Hogsmeade itself so that Harry would be less likely to be seen. He hadn't mentioned any of this to Ron or Hermione – he was fairly sure that Hermione, at least, would have told him not to go and he still wasn't talking to Ron. Maybe he could catch them later and surprise them.

Harry made his way through the streets of Hogsmeade, careful not to bump into anyone. Eventually he made it out of the village and approached the Shrieking Shack. As the name implied, it was an old, worn down shack – old and rundown with its windows all smashed or boarded up, it looked as though it had been snatched right out of a scene from one of the horror movies Dudley had occasionally watched and invariably had nightmares about for months after. Harry had never been able to catch more than a glimpse of anything Dudley had watched and he'd certainly never been allowed to go to a haunted house, but he knew what a haunted house was supposed to look like, and this was it. It stood at the top of the hill, surrounded by a rickety old fence and Harry wouldn't have been even remotely surprised to find that a vampire or something equally horrid had taken up residence inside. It sent chills down his spine just looking at it.

Draco was already there, casually resting his arms on the fence as he stared at the house. Even beneath his hat and woolen, black coat, Harry recognized him instantly. Harry wasn't sure what it was, but something in his posture gave him away. For a moment, Harry just looked at him, taking in the sheer beauty of the scene – Draco standing there, sexy as ever, surrounded by the snow and the Shack. Draco looked as warm and inviting and beautiful as the Shrieking Shack looked foreboding and sinister and the only thing that could make it better would be if Draco were facing him… or better yet, kissing him.

That thought in mind, Harry broke out of his reverie and walked up behind Draco as quietly as he could. Draco still hadn't noticed him. When Harry was so close as to be almost touching the boy, he slipped his arms around his waist, pulling the invisibility cloak over both of them.

Draco let out a cry of surprise, spinning around to face Harry. Harry didn't even bother to give him time to react before devouring his lips. Draco kissed him back, his hands caught in Harry's hair. His face was cold against Harry's, chilled with the winter frost, but Harry was only too happy to warm him up.

They pulled back, laughing and gasping as Harry lovingly caressed Draco's face. He was brightly flushed from the cold and the kissing and Harry swore he'd never looked more beautiful. Well, except of course for every other time Harry had ever seen him, but no sense in going into that now.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, the words slipping through his lips before he could stop them.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said you're beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Hmmm… I was rather hoping for handsome, but I suppose beautiful will do."

"How about dead sexy? That better?"

Draco tilted his head, considering. "I supposed that'd do…"

Harry snorted, making a face. "Picky, picky, picky. Just take the compliment, okay?"

"Oh fine. Ruin my fun."

Harry kissed him again. "I have no intention of ruining your fun."

Draco laughed, nuzzling his neck. "I love you." The whisper almost lost against Harry's neck, but he heard it and smiled, holding Draco tighter.

"I love you too." He wasn't sure, but he thought he felt Draco smiling against his neck.

Eventually, they separated and began to make their way down into Hogsmeade. Harry kept the cloak on, more or less, but somehow managed to hold Draco's hand until they came into sight of the village. Draco shot him a strange, shielded glance when he dropped his hand.

"What? It'd look pretty dumb for you to be walking around Hogsmeade holding a floating hand."

Draco sighed softly. "…I guess…"

As they walked through the village, Harry stayed as close to Draco as he could without tripping either of them. Draco kept glancing around, whether to see that no one had noticed anything or in an attempt to check if Harry was still there (not that it worked), Harry wasn't sure. He was busy keeping an eye out for either Ron or Hermione.

He finally spotted them just standing inside Honeydukes. He tapped Draco on the shoulder, whispering, "I'm going to go talk to my friends."

Draco nodded tightly and Harry wove his way across the street, careful not to bump into anyone. Draco lingered outside Honeydukes, watching through the window as Ron and Hermione talked. Harry snuck up behind them and saw that they were examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops.

"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those. They're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying to Ron in disgust.

"How about these?" Ron asked, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," Harry said.

Ron nearly dropped the jar. "Har–"

"Ron!" Hermione cut him off, giving a meaningful glance around the room. "Come on… Let's go to the Three Broomsticks and you can tell us how you managed to sneak out of Hogwarts."

"Alright."

When they left Honeydukes, Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione. "Give me a minute." Then he crossed the street and snuck up behind Draco, who was now watching Ron and Hermione intently. Ron and Hermione were standing, waiting impatiently and looking 'after him' in the entirely wrong direction.

Harry stood in front of Draco, watching in amusement as Draco stared through him before kissing him briefly. It was all Harry could do not to laugh at the shocked expression on Draco's face.

"We're going to the Three Broomsticks with Ron and Hermione."

"We?"

"We." Harry waited until he saw that Draco was 'following' him across the street before returning to Ron and Hermione himself. "We can go now."

Ron and Hermione both jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Harry…" Hermione began, noticing Draco. "He's not coming with us, is he?"

"Of course he is."

Ron glared in Harry's general vicinity. "No he's not."

Draco folded his arms. "Fine. I'll leave."

"No!" Harry caught his boyfriend's hand. "You're coming with us."

"Then I'm not coming," Ron snapped.

"Ron! I want you to come too."

"Not if he's coming."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "I can't believe how petty you're being. Harry's your friend, and you're coming."

Ron scowled, but relented and the four of them set off to the Three Broomsticks.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded, but not overly so and they managed to find a table at the back of the bar where no one would see them, next to a small, potted tree. Harry pulled off the cloak and they all ordered butterbeers and then turned to Harry.

"So," Hermione began curiously. "How did you sneak out of Hogwarts?"

"And why'd you find Malfoy before seeing us?"

"Ron!"

Harry sighed. "His name is Draco, and I ran into him first. Okay?"

Ron scowled at him, but was silent.

"So anyways, Fred and George caught me before they left and gave me this." Harry pulled out the Marauders Map. They all looked at it, then back to Harry.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding unimpressed.

"Looks like a blank piece of parchment… how'd that help you?" Draco didn't sound much more impressed than Ron, and Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

"It's enchanted, of course. Right Harry?"

In answer, Harry pointed to the map and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

And once again, lines of ink spread across the parchment.

"It's a map!"

Draco scowled at Ron. "It's a map of Hogwarts."

"It's bloody brilliant! Can I look at it?"

"Look to your heart's content."

"Later!" They all followed Ron's gaze over to the door. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, and The Minister of Magic had just entered the Three Broomsticks.

"Quick Harry, hide!" Hermione shoved Harry under the table, shoving the potted tree in front of him.

From beneath the table, Harry watched as the three adults sat down at the bar and ordered their drinks. Harry saw two glittering shoes appear from behind the bar and walk over to them.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came a young woman's voice.

Harry saw the lower part of Mr. Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, Madam Rosmerta, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," Madam Rosmerta admitted.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" Professor McGonagall asked exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," Fudge said shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" Madam Rosmerta said, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away.... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," Fudge said uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are.... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore - he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," Fudge demurred, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse.... We all know what Black's capable of...."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta commented thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" Madam Rosmerta asked, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do."

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," Professor McGonagall murmured. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," Madam Rosmerta said with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here - ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry felt his jaw drop. James Potter. His father…

"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course – exceptionally bright, in fact – but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers –"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money..."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" Professor Flitwick chimed in. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," Fudge agreed. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. They named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.

"Worse even than that, m'dear...." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelious Charm."

"How does that work?" Madam Rosmerta asked, breathless with interest.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "An immensely complex spell, involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find - unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," Professor McGonagall confirmed. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself.... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" Madam Rosmerta gasped.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," Professor McGonagall said darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," Fudge said heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelious Charm had been performed–"

"Black betrayed them?"

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it -"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" Professor McGonagall said quickly, glancing around the bar.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James' house after they were killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead...an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily and James' Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!"

"Hagrid, please!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him -' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says.

"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.

"But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore...."

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said in a satisfied tone, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," Fudge said bitterly. "But it was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew - another of the Potters' friends. Maddened with grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew...that fat boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?"

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I - how I regret that now...." Her voice was choked with emotion.

"There, now, Minerva," Fudge said kindly, reaching out to pat her hand. "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses – Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later – told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens...."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose, dabbing at her eyes, and said thickly, "Stupid boy...foolish boy...he was always hopeless at dueling...should have left it to the Ministry...."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands - I'd've ripped him limb - from - limb," Hagrid growled fiercely.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," Fudge said sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I – I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him...a heap of bloodstained robes and a few - a few fragments–"

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly and Harry heard the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," Fudge said, voice thick. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was. I certainly believe his master's death unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man – cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored – asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please. Said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him – and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" Madam Rosmerta asked. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his – er – eventual plan. But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing...but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"

There was a small chink of glass on wood as someone set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," Professor McGonagall commented.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Harry moved to stand; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again and the teachers disappeared into a flurry of snow.

"Harry?"

Slowly, Harry climbed out from under the table. Ron, Draco, and Hermione were all staring at him at a loss for words. He could feel tears burning in his eyes. Sirius Black… His father's friend…

"Harry–"

He collapsed into his seat, holding his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. A light hand on his shoulder. He glared up at the three of them.

"He was their friend," he sobbed. "Their friend! And he betrayed them. He killed them!" He closed his eyes for a moment, and when opened them, they glittered with anger and resolution. "I hope he finds me. Because when he does, I'm going to be ready. And going to kill him!"

Ron, Hermione, and Draco exchanged a look and then returned their gazes to Harry. "And we'll be right by your side, Harry," Hermione promised. Ron and Draco nodded.

Something about their firm, defensive expressions – Ron's in particular – broke something within Harry and all his anger melted away into grief. With another sob, he turned to Draco, burying his face in his boyfriend's chest and sobbing brokenly.

Ron and Hermione both moved to hold him as well – and for once, neither Draco nor Ron cared that they hated each other. For once, they realized that they had one thing in common: the very most important thing in the world to both of them was Harry, and right now he needed both of them.

A/N: Okay, first off most of the dialogue that actually happened in the book was taken straight from the book. The scene with Fred and George was a mix between the books, the movie, and my own imagination. The dialogue between the Professors and Madam Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks was taken almost entirely from the books. So sue me... actually, please don't since (as I believe I've mentioned) I'm just a penniless sitar player a.k.a. The Writer (for those of you who've seen Moulin Rouge).
Stars-n-moons91: Thanks :P
And anyone who notices and points out gramatical errors in any of my writing, I'll love you forever! (though plot continuity, characterization and so on are great too...)