WOWOWOWOWOWOW! Sorry I haven't updated in ages. I was on holiday, and then when we got back, our internet was cut off! And it takes 7-12 days to get it re-connected. I wrote this whilst the internet was cut off, so I could update straight away. Anywho- Enjoy my second instalment in the "Harry Potter Outtakes series!"
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The Marudders Mop
"Well… when we were in our first year, Harry-young, carefree and innocent-"
Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred or George had ever been innocent.
"Well, more innocent that 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."
"Well, what would you have done?" said Fred. "George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb; I whipped the drawer open and grabbed this."
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"MISCREANTS!!!!" Filch howled dragging an 11 year old Fred and George Weasley by the ear along the Charms corridor and away from a rising column of putrid green coloured gas.
"I think we may have upset Filch somehow Fred."
"SACRALIGE!!!!"
"I know. But maybe we went a bit over the top by setting off 17 timed Dungbombs."
"BEFOULMENT!!!!"
"Speaking of which, I think number 17 is about to-"he was interrupted (for the 17th time that day) by a squelchy explosion and an odd farting noise. A second pillar of smoke curled up towards the ceiling.
Filch stared insanely at the smoke his face going red and his left eye twitching. He turned on the twins.
"CRIMINALS!!!!!!"
"I think we hit a nerve somehow." Said Fred as he was shoved through the door of a mothball smelling office.
"Don't really see why. But perhaps we should have done something a little lower for our second week."
"Maybe." George replied as he was forced roughly into a worn away chair.
"Nah." They said simultaneously.
"QUIET!!" Filch roared at the two, and began shuffling through the tower of papers on his desk.
"Aha!" he yelled in triumph, his hand holding a piece of yellowed parchment.
"Now, let's see names…Fred…and…George…Weasley…Crime…" Sighing Fred looked around the bleak workplace. His eyes fell on the large columns of filing cabinets scattered around the corner of the office. Let's see what old Filchy has in his library.
Hmmmm… punishment records…depressing.
Peeve's file of activity…un-inspiring.
7th years: confiscated items- do not look unless over 18…don't even want to know.
Then…confiscated and highly dangerous! That would be worth having a look at!
Fred glanced at Filch who appeared to be having a mental block as to what punishment would be suitable for the two.
"Detention? No, too weak… Disembowelment? Too far…"
Fred nudged George in the ribs.
"What?" he hissed. Fred showed him. Georges face lit up like a Christmas tree in a coal cellar.
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"So, how many Dungbombs do we have left?"
"4. And I've set them all to go off in 15 minutes."
"Good. Go and place them somewhere far enough away so it will take him a while to get there, but close enough for him to hear it. That empty room on the third floor corridor on the right should be good, it's always empty."
"What!! That'll take me 15 minutes to get there!"
"Well you better hurry then, as you've got," Fred checked his watch. "13 minutes."
Grumbling, George hurried off down the corridor and out of sight.
A long 13 minutes later Fred heard a distant explosion and the sound of someone swearing at the top of their lungs. Fred hoped sincerely it was a Slytherin.
Seconds later he saw Filch skid out of his office screeching about poltergeists and red-heads.
After waiting a few seconds whilst Filch vanished from view, he darted to the office door, which, fortunately, was ajar from Filch's hasty exit.
Fred scrambled over to the filing cabinet and tried to pull open the drawer. Locked. Cursing, Fred whipped out his wand.
"Alohamora!" Yelling in triumph, the drawer lock clicked open. Professor Flitwick couldn't say anything now! He yanked open the drawer and started rummaging through, carefully avoiding everything that was moving. There was a small pocket book with what looked like teeth marks in it. There was a photograph a man chained to a wall unconscious, his head lolling on his shoulder, a pair of dagger like fangs glinting in the moonlight.
There was a small metal box that started shaking as though something was trying to get out when he picked it up. A label attached read: "On no account must object be worn. Females only ever to touch. Severely cursed."
"Latex cond-"
"I advise you don't finish that sentence Fred." George's voice interrupted from behind him, making him drop the box in fright.
"Bloody hell! Don't do that, I thought you were Filch."
"Oh grow up. Any problem getting in?"
"Nah. It wasn't even magically locked. You'd of thought even Filch would be able to charm this shut." He answered, gesturing to the drawer. George shrugged and started helping look through.
"How long d'you reckon Filch will be?" Fred asked, tossing side an apple that gleamed blood red in the light.
"Dunno. He was yelling at Adrian Pucey when I left."
"Can't take too long then." Suddenly Filch's oily voice appeared outside.
"Crap! George, just grab something and let's get the hell out of here!" Fred hollered back at him, already making a break for the door. Thrusting his hand into the drawer, George grabbed the first thing his fingers felt, slammed it shut, and bolted out the door before you could say Detention Weasley!
A minute later two breathless twins were sitting at a desk in a deserted corner of the Gryffindor common room, Filch's rants about insufferable first years still ringing in their ears.
"That," Fred started "was way too close."
"Too right."
"So, what did you get?" Fred asked.
George held up-
"A BLANK PIECE OF PARCHMENT!!!" Fred exploded. "OF ALL THE COOL STUFF YOU COULD HAVE GRABBED, YOU GRABBED A BLANK PIECE OF PARCHMENT THAT PROBABLY SLIPPED IN THERE BY MISTAKE!!!"
"Well how the hell was I supposed to see? We had virtually seconds left Mr bolt-for-the-door!"
"Well, common, it might still be something. Maybe it's answers to every exam in the future!"
"I doubt a piece of Parchment this old will contain any answers to our time zone."
Fred got out his wand and started tapping it randomly.
"Com'on, com'on! I want the answers to Snively Snape's test on Monday!" Then, to the shock of both of the two present, scruffy, taut writing started forming on the sheet.
Mr Padfoot is delighted that Snively Snape still has his old nick name, but is disgusted that the Slimeball is in any position to set tests.
To add to the surprise of Fred and George Weasley, this was soon followed by several other hands.
Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Padfoot and would like to add that any students required to take Snivelus's test would know where to tell him to shove it.
Now, shaky letters were being written by the invisible hand.
Mr Wormtail would like to put in that any students should not stare at Snively's hair in direct sunlight.
Mr Moony consents with the above, and would advise any fellow no-gooders to solemnly swear their cause to the parchment.
Long silence.
"What, in sweet Godric's name is this?"
"I have no idea. Maybe Mr Moony was trying to tell us something?"
"Well then let's try out what he says." Fred tapped the parchment again. "I, Fred Weasley, swear to keep up mischief in Hogwarts. " Nothing.
"Let me have a go." George Pulled out his wand and tapped it. "I swear to cause trouble and mayhem wherever possible." Nothing.
"I swear that I am up to mischief." Nothing.
"I promise to cause harm to the unjust system of Hogwarts." Nothing.
"I pledge that I will terrorise all teachers, students and Snape." Nothing.
"This isn't working. Maybe there are more clues in the text. Like why did Moony use no-gooders? And why did he put solemnly swear?"
"So you're saying I should say something like: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good?" No sooner than Fred said the words, spidery lines bloomed across the page from his wand tip. At the top in Prong's handwriting it proclaimed "Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Purveyors of aids to Magical mischief makers are prod to present-"
"The Murudders Mop?"
"The Marauders Map you idio- Blazing Hellfires of the Four Founders!!!! Look at this!!!" Georges jaw followed Fred's to the floor. On the Marauders Map was, well, a map. But not just any map. Oh no. This was a detailed map of every inch of the castle, some corridors they recognised, some that they knew weren't there whenever they walked past it. And some where obviously secret, as they led right of the map and out of Hogwarts grounds. But that wasn't the most amazing thing. The most amazing thing was that there were people on the map! Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny dots, each with its own little label, stating who they were. And they moved! They could see Filch and Adrian Pucey in the room on the third floor corridor, quivering slightly, presumably scrubbing. Mrs Norris was stalking a group of 1st years by the great hall. Peeves was pelting a group of students with books in the library, closely followed by Madam Pince who was trying to get rid of him. Fred and George watched wide eyed as they surveyed the evening activity's of the entire school on a square foot of paper.
"Do you have any idea how amazing this is?" George exclaimed hoarsely. "We could catch any invaders to the school! We could make find students if there ever lost! We can do duty to the school by tracking our fellow class mates! Think of what good we could do!" There was a slight pause as the two contemplated the possibilities of the Map.
"Want to release that crate of Transylvanian Fanged Frisbees in the Slytherins common room?"
"OK."
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No. 3 coming to a FanFic near you soon! I am open to ideas as to what to write for the outtakes series. I've got a few ideas, but they'll dry up after a while.