Chapter 17: Seventh
Harry rooted through his trunk. Come on, come on, where are you? he thought in annoyance. Come on, just let me find you – OW!
He yanked his hand out. His ring finger was bleeding from a gash along the fingertip.
What was that?
He hit himself in the forehead with the hand that wasn't in his mouth. Glass, Harry. Broken glass. Broken mirror glass. Way to remember you never unpacked this year.
Wonder if I could get away with a spell, just this once? There's so much magic around, they could never tell it was me... they couldn't tell the difference between me and Dobby second year, they won't be able to tell now...
No, I can't afford any more trouble. I can't break any more rules. Not now.
The glass had cut more than his skin – it had hit home on one of the worst memories of his life, the moment when his hopes had been raised for an instant, only to be dashed again...
He shoved the memory away. I need an adult.
He went down the stairs quietly, out of habit, and saw Mrs. Weasley just coming up from the basement. "Mrs. Weasley? Could you give me a hand upstairs?"
"Certainly, Harry, what is it you need?"
"Well, I cut myself a little on some glass in my trunk..."
"What is broken glass doing in your trunk, Harry Potter?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.
"Broke a mirror," Harry said, biting his lip hard for an instant. "And I was hoping you could repair it for me. Since I can't do magic outside school."
"Let me see that hand of yours, first." A poke from her wand and the cut was gone. "Now, let me see... a mirror..." She led the way upstairs, mumbling to herself.
"It's in there," Harry said, pointing at his trunk. "I think it's all there, anyway."
"Well, let's find out," Mrs. Weasley said, picking up the dustbin in the corner and removing the bag lining it. "Accio Glass!"
Shining silver shards flew out of Harry's trunk and into the bin, smashing somewhat more than they had in the process. Harry winced, but Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to notice. "Now, then, Accio Frame!"
An old, square frame soared towards them. Harry caught it reflexively and quickly lowered it to his side.
"No, no, I need it where I can see it, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. Harry brought it up to chest level, facing her, so that the message scrawled on the back was hidden by his hand. "Let me see if I have this right... Speculum Reparo!"
The shards of glass flew from the bin and back into the frame. Harry turned it to see his uncertain face reflected back at him from within the dirty depths of the glass. Sirius' mirror was fixed. But Harry knew he couldn't contact his godfather with this mirror.
Because he didn't have the other one with him.
"Harry? What's wrong?" Mrs. Weasley asked softly.
Harry opened his mouth to answer and found that he couldn't. His throat had closed entirely, it seemed – even breathing was an effort. He looked up from the mirror and met Mrs. Weasley's eyes.
He had seen his own pain over Sirius mirrored in Remus' eyes, but what he saw in Mrs. Weasley's was something else. Pain, yes, pain was there, and sorrow, but it was old pain, old sorrow. As Remus had told him the day before, grief never entirely goes away, but it does become less.
How did you do it? Harry asked without words. How did you get beyond the pain?
Mrs. Weasley's answer was to pull him into a firm hug and hold him there. "It's all right," she whispered. "It's all right to cry."
Harry would have denied this, but his eyes obeyed before his mind had a chance to override them, and in an instant he was sobbing. Vaguely he heard the door close and felt them moving together, vaguely he felt them sit down on the bed. His mind seemed full of nothing but grief, the way he'd been for a few days at Privet Drive, after the numbness and shock had worn off and before Ginny's package had arrived.
I thought I was beyond this. I thought I was healing. I thought I was going to be all right.
"You are going to be all right, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said into his hair, still holding him tightly – he must have spoken aloud, he realized, for her to be answering. "Grief isn't some kind of obstacle course, that once you finish with something, you don't have to do it again. No, I'm afraid you will be a long time healing from this, but we are here to help you. You don't have to do everything on your own."
Harry swallowed and sniffed. "Thanks," he said in a watery kind of way.
"What brought this on?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently, Summoning the tissues with her wand. "The mirror?"
Harry nodded. "It was Sirius'," he said, taking a shuddery breath and blowing his nose. "He told me to use it in an emergency... and I forgot..."
He was horrified to hear his voice go off into a little-boy wail at the end of the sentence.
"Oh." Mrs. Weasley pulled him into her arms again. "Oh, Harry, my little love. My poor little love."
Her voice was catching in odd places, Harry noticed from a distance. She's probably crying too.
She called me "little love". No one ever called me that before. He found he rather liked it.
But if I have to cry to get it, I don't think I want it any more...
It was a worse crying bout than he'd had since he'd arrived at Grimmauld Place, possibly excepting his cry with Remus in the music room on his first morning. It left him feeling shaky but relieved, as if he'd released some kind of tension inside him.
I guess I needed it.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said once he could talk again.
"You come to me any time you need to do that," she said, gently stroking his head. "You're part of the family now, remember. Our seventh son."
She left before he could respond to that.
Well, at least now I have the pair. Harry turned his attention back to his trunk, digging through it until he had unearthed the twin to the mirror on his bed. He had found it in Sirius' bedroom, on the dresser, along with a handful of loose change. Obviously Sirius had been changing robes when he had been called away to the Ministry...
But that's not what I was looking for.
Harry pulled out a large square of dirty parchment and climbed onto his bed. From a pocket, he withdrew a somewhat tattered letter – Sirius' letter to him, which he took everywhere. It was stupid, he knew, but it made him feel closer to his godfather.
He opened it and immediately located the sentences he wanted.
"Oh, and activate the Marauders' Map sometime with the phrase 'I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing good.' I think you'll like it."
About to place his wand on the parchment, he hesitated.
I probably shouldn't be doing this. It is magic, after all. And I'm not in school.
But what harm can the Map do? It might not even work off Hogwarts grounds. Besides, I really want to see what this does.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing good," Harry said, wand tip on the parchment.
Immediately lines began to form on the map, making up the familiar outlines of the castle, but as Harry watched, they faded and were replaced with blank parchment. The curly letters at the top blossomed as usual...
Erm, no. Not as usual.
Harry stared.
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present
The Marauders' Map
Personal Edition
Welcome, Mr. Padfoot.
The top three lines faded, and the last line moved to the top of the map. New writing appeared.
Would you like to:
A) Read over old content
B) Input new content
C) Explain what exactly is going on, who all these new users are, and why Snivellus thinks he's a professor?!
Still more writing appeared below the three options, but where the options and the title had the look of something professionally created, this was obviously handwritten. It reminded Harry of nothing so much as the diary of Tom Riddle, and the only thing that kept him from dropping the Map in horror was the fact that he knew the handwriting...
-For that matter, who are you? Unless my voice has changed a lot, you're not me.-
... it was Sirius'...
-You can answer aloud, we'll hear you.-
"We?" Harry said in disbelief. "Who's we?"
-Er, the Marauders? You know, the blokes who made the Map?-
"I know who you are. You mean, you're all in there?"
-Well, sort of. It's kind of difficult to explain...-
(Why not let me have a try?) A new writing broke in. It was neater, loopier, and also familiar to Harry.
"Hey, Moony," he said, grinning.
(How did you know?) Moony demanded.
"I've seen your writing before. Are Prongs and Wormtail there too?"
:Yes, we're here.: This writing was less messy than Sirius', but not as neat as Remus'. It had rather tall capitals to it, and Harry shivered a little as he realized who it must belong to...
"Hello, Prongs," he said quietly.
:You're a good guesser... ah, what did you say your name was?:
"I didn't. It's Harry. Harry Potter."
:Potter, really? Any relation to me?:
"Er, long story. Can it wait?"
:No.:
(Of course it can, Prongs, don't be such a self-centered ass. Harry, we're memories of the Marauders at age seventeen, which is when they last accessed the Map. We have an imperfect sense of time, but I think it's probably been quite a while since we were seventeen. Am I right?)
Harry nodded, then remembered they couldn't see him. "Yes. You're right. It's been quite a while." He laughed a little, without any real mirth. "Hey, I haven't heard from Wormtail. Where are you, Petie?"
;Here I am,; a small scribble appeared on the parchment below the other, slowly fading lines. ;Hello, Harry.;
"Hello," Harry said grimly. "So tell me, Wormtail, are you a Death Eater yet?"
The Map went briefly haywire. Swathes of ink crossed it in all directions. Then it settled to show four words, all the same, one in the handwriting of each Marauder:
WHAT?!
"That's right, Wormtail turned out to be a spy," Harry growled. "A sneaking traitor. What do you have to say for yourself?"
An incoherent scrawl crossed the bottom of the Map.
(Is this true?) Moony demanded.
"Yes," Harry said firmly. "Totally true."
-Put your hand on the Map and swear,- Padfoot said. -Since the Map never lies, we'll be able to tell if you are. Not that we doubt you, but, well...-
"Never mind. In your place, I think I'd doubt me too." Harry placed his hand on the middle of the Map. "I solemnly swear that Peter Pettigrew is and was a Death Eater, that he betrayed my parents and me, that he murdered an innocent boy and helped Lord Voldemort rise again. Good enough?"
He removed his hand to see that the Map had gone entirely blank.
:We have really missed a lot,: Prongs commented after a moment.
-Rise again?- Padfoot wanted to know.
(Wormtail – out,) Moony said. Harry could almost feel the fury rising off the word. (You lying, stinking piece of filth. You don't deserve a memory here.)
-You're out, Wormtail,- Padfoot agreed. -Harry, put your wand on the Map and say – -
;NO!; Ink rose up from the depths of the Map; its surface turned entirely black for an instant, then began to swirl black and cream as, Harry assumed, the Marauders fought among themselves for control.
Finally a space cleared long enough for him to read three words in Prongs' writing. :Exsculpo Peter Pettigrew!:
"Exsculpo Peter Pettigrew!" Harry repeated, touching his wand to the Map again. All the ink disappeared, leaving the Map as blank as if he'd said "Mischief managed". Then words began to make themselves known.
-Well, that was exciting. So, are you related to Prongs?-
"Yep." Harry found himself grinning. Maybe he couldn't talk to the real Sirius, but this was awfully close... "I'm his son."
:SON?!:
"That's right. Harry James Potter, age sixteen, Gryffindor prefect and Seeker on the House team. Also, I am reliably informed that I look exactly like my father, except that I have my mother's eyes. Her bright green eyes."
-Oh-HO, Prongs, you sly devil you! I always knew you and Lily were meant for each other!-
(Sixteen? Good heavens, that means we've been out of commission for at least seventeen years...)
:What do you mean, reliably informed? Wait a second... you said Wormtail betrayed you and your parents. And now you're saying I'm your father, and Lily is your mother... what kind of betrayal are we talking about here?:
Harry sighed. "You're not going to like this. Any of you."
The story of the past nineteen years took quite a while to tell. When Harry finished, the parchment was blank for a time, the equivalent, he assumed, of a stunned silence.
(I'm the only one left, then?) Moony asked almost wistfully. (The only true Marauder left?)
-Well, we do have our two newbies. Can't forget about them. Harry, what are those twins called again, the ones who gave you the Map?-
"The Weasley twins. Fred and George. They've pulled stuff I think you would even be proud of. Like setting off an entire crate of enchanted fireworks in Hogwarts. Enchanted to multiply if you try to Vanish them."
:Oh, well done!: Prongs applauded. :We knew they were twins by their magic – and quite excellent magic too – but we never knew their names.:
-Called them Duplus and Geminus to keep them straight,- Padfoot said. -Latin words for twins.-
(We really should consider them the fifth and sixth Marauders,) Moony mused.
-Say, Wormtail's Personal Edition account is free now,- recalled Padfoot. -Maybe they'd like to use it – that is, of course, if you're willing to share the map, Harry.-
"What does the Personal Edition do, anyway?"
:You mentioned that magic diary, the one Riddle made? This is a bit like that, but without the possessing-people-thing. You write on the Map, or speak to it, and it records your thoughts and feelings, your personality. You can relive your memories through the Map, if you put them in.:
"Could I relive your memories?" Harry was almost afraid to ask.
(Possibly. But we'd never tried that, and I wouldn't recommend it without advice from someone more experienced. Harry, I have a request, if you don't mind.)
"Sure, what is it?"
(If I'm around, could I meet me?)
It took Harry a moment to sort through this. "Oh. Um, sure, yeah, I guess. I'll be right back. Let me go see if he's, if you're, if he's here." This could get confusing fast!
He ran down the stairs and collided with Remus at the bottom, knocking them both over.
"I was looking for you, but I didn't expect to find you quite so fast," Remus said, chuckling, as he picked himself up.
"What for?"
"I wondered if you might like to talk."
Harry sighed. "You talked to Mrs. Weasley, didn't you?"
"No. Why, should I?"
"No," Harry said quickly. "No, no need. There's something I want to show you. Are you busy?"
"Not at all."
"It's up in my room." Harry went back up the stairs with Remus behind him. "Did the Marauders' Map only do one thing?" he asked, feeling mischievous.
"One thing?" Remus sounded nonplussed. "It does several things – shows the castle and grounds, the secret passages, where everyone is – who everyone is, regardless of disguises..."
"No, I mean something completely different. Something, well, personal."
"Harry, what are you implying?"
Harry grinned. "How would you like to meet yourself?"
Remus looked at him open-mouthed for a second, then recovered. "Sirius left you his Personal Edition password, didn't he? That's the only thing you could possibly be talking about... I'd almost forgotten about it, to be honest, it was so long ago... does it still work?"
"Perfectly. See for yourself."
Remus picked up the Map. "Hello," he said quietly.
(Hello, Remus, how are you? Or rather, how am I? Damn, this is going to be hard to get used to...)
"Why don't we stick with Remus for me, and Moony for you," Remus suggested. "Keep things straight."
-Works for me. Hey, Remus. Sorry to hear I bit the big one. Hope you're not taking it too hard.-
Remus chuckled again, with a slight edge to it. "Sirius Black, only you would joke about your own death."
:Excuse me, only him? I've been dead longer, so I should be even funnier.:
"Hello to you too, Prongs."
:That reminds me – my son needs a Marauder name.: The proprietary pride was almost audible, despite the words being written instead of spoken. :Remus, do you still remember the scrying spell?:
"Of course I do."
"Scrying spell?" Harry asked. "What's that?"
(Scrying is a form of magical searching, Harry. This spell will show you your Animagus form.)
"Scrying is magically looking for something, Harry. And this spell lets you scry for your Animagus form."
:Would you two please not do that?:
-It's a bit disturbing.-
"Sorry."
(Sorry.)
"In any case, Harry, a scrying spell is usually cast on a mirror or a bowl of water – some reflective surface – which the caster looks into to see whatever he or she is looking for. James and Sirius taught me the spell for fun after they'd done their transformations, so I could see what my Animagus form would be."
"Let me guess. A wolf."
"Actually, no, oddly enough. A lion."
"Why?"
"I've never been able to figure it out. The incantation is Revelaro Animalis. You have to cast it, it won't work if I do it. Do you have a hand mirror?"
"Can we use the one in the bathroom?" Harry asked. He didn't want to find out what extra magic would do to a recently repaired two-way mirror.
"I don't see why not."
In the bathroom, Harry pointed his wand at the mirror. "Revelaro Animalis!"
"What do you see?" Remus asked quietly.
Harry squinted into the mirror. "It looks kind of like Moody's Foe-Glass, I guess. It's foggy, but I can see things moving in it."
"Keep watching. One of them will eventually come forward and make eye contact. That's the one."
A hawk flew past Harry's face, followed by a fox, a beetle, and a white ferret. He shivered. What if his Animagus form was a ferret?
Malfoy would never let me hear the end of it.
An orange cat ran by, and another fox, and a horse, and then a dog...
Sirius?
No, wait. It's not black. It's gray.
The dog turned its head towards Harry. A thin streak of white fur made a lightning-bolt shape on the top of its head, and its eyes were as green as his own.
With a gasp, Harry found himself staring at his own face in an ordinary bathroom mirror.
"Well?" Remus said.
:Well?: Prongs wrote.
"A dog. A big dog. Kind of like Sirius, only gray."
-Gray. Hmm. What's gray?-
:That's the color you get when you mix black and white, Padfoot.:
-Very funny. My eyes are gray, but I don't think that's workable...-
(Cloudy days?) Moony suggested.
"Ashes are gray," Remus said. "Would Ashcoat do?"
"Ashcoat. Mr. Ashcoat." Harry grinned. "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Ashcoat."
:Don't forget Duplus and Geminus.:
-We're not forgetting them, Prongs, but those aren't proper Marauder names, so they don't go on the Map. This does.-
(Besides, if you count Wormtail, Ashcoat is the seventh Marauder. Seven's a lot of names to fit across the top of the Map.)
"Why not make it just four for now?" Remus said. "Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Ashcoat. If you decide to let the twins in on this, you can always add an extra line or two for their names later."
(You have a lot of good ideas, you know, Remus.)
Remus smiled. "So do you, Moony."
-Quit complimenting yourselves, you two.-
"I have an idea," Harry said. "Remus, is there going to be a memorial for Sirius?"
"Yes, of course. That was what I was coming to ask you about. We have it tentatively placed three days from now. Is that all right with you?"
"Three days is fine." Harry grinned. "Imagine all the embarrassing stories I can learn from the Marauders in three days."
Remus groaned. "I'm doomed."
"I'll keep the Moony content low," Harry promised. "Padfoot? Prongs? Willing to tell a few on yourselves?"
:Oh, if we have to...:
As he read the stories the Map wrote out for him, Harry realized something. I'm talking to my dad. And to Sirius. Well, to memories of them, anyway. Shouldn't I be a little more uneasy about this?
But in truth, it felt like talking to Fred and George – the Marauders, as personified in the Map, were not much older than he was, and very into mischief.
I actually feel very comfortable around them. As if I've known them for a long time. Which I have, of course... sort of...
Fred and George are going to love this!
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(A/N: So, what do you think of the Marauders' Map Personal Edition? Good idea? Let me know!
MAndrews: Thanks, I liked that one too!
Quillian: ::tee::
harryp123: Good to see ya!
Lady Cinnibar: No Malfoy-ish-ness? OK. ::snickers to self:: And it is not cheating. It's just making use of all your resources. As for dreams... keep reading, oh perceptive one!
MackenzieW: Thank you, I did have fun writing that!
CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: What a great acronym, eh?
emikae: Don't shake your fist at her! She might delay HBP! DO NOT ANGER THE GODDESS!
Love and hugs to reviewers as always!)