Near midnight the next evening, Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter huffed and puffed, with broomsticks in tow, up the steep spiral stairs to the Astronomy Tower. They huddled as closely as they could under James's invisibility cloak, but this had become more difficult the past couple of years; Peter was still rather diminutive, but James, Remus, and Sirius had grown much taller. Remus was certain that their feet must be showing at the bottom, but there was nothing to be done about it. Partial invisibility was better than none.
Remus had told his friends about the map over dinner the previous night. All had agreed that a map would be a good tool to make sure there were no students about when Remus headed alone toward the Whomping Willow, or when, together as werewolf and Animagi, they left the castle grounds to go into Hogsmeade. James and Sirius could envision many other uses for the map, but Remus ignored those possibilities for now. He had to complete the map, and he needed their help to do it.
When they reached the door to the tower, James opened it cautiously and peered out while the others remained motionless behind him.
"All clear," he said. James removed the cloak, stuffing it into a large pocket inside his robes as the four friends stepped onto the ramparts. They were immediately buffeted by harsh winds.
Remus had chosen to use the Astronomy Tower, the tallest tower at Hogwarts, so that there would be little chance of being seen while they finished the map. He glanced around, confident that they were alone. Stars twinkled sharply as ominous clouds swept briskly across the sky. Remus pulled the blank parchment from his back pocket and spread it onto the stones at their feet; then he drew his wand and muttered a gravity charm to keep the map from blowing away. Remus stood and looked at his friends. The gale was so powerful that, in order to keep his balance, his toes had to grip the ground through his shoes. The strong wind whipped his friends' dark cloaks about them, giving them the appearance of motion, although they stood quite still, feet planted firmly apart to maintain stability. Remus's eyes stung in the cold air, and he wished he'd worn a hat; his ears would be frozen by the time they were done. At least he had a scarf on.
"Well, let's do it," Sirius half-yelled over the din of the bitter wind.
"All right," Remus shouted. "I'll stand here, on the east side of the map."
Standing beside the blank parchment, he felt a thrill surge through him, electrifying his fingertips and toes. Would he be able to complete this map? Jonathan Lupin had modified and mastered the ancient spell Remus was about to utter during one of his mapmaking trips years ago, learning the significance of the directions from a very old wizard (who called himself a shaman) in North America. East represented the source of light; as the mapmaker – the illuminator, so to speak – Remus had to stand in this spot. His friends would then pick from the other positions. South represented death and the spirit path; west, darkness and thunderbirds; and north, the path of forefathers. Remus wasn't entirely sure what all this meant, but his grandfather had told him it had to do with balance and completion. Jonathan Lupin had modified the spell somewhat so that people, not just animals, would be tracked; and he had changed the incantation so that every square inch of land and structure would be represented, even on a roughly-sketched map.
"Everyone, pick a direction," Remus ordered.
James quickly approached Remus's right, north of the map. Sirius, choosing the south, stood at Remus's left. Peter faced Remus, taking his place in the west.
"Now, rest the end of your broom on the edge of the map, like so." Remus positioned the bristles of his broom on his side of the map. Peter placed his broom down next, then Sirius, and James last. The invisible lines drawn on the map pulsed faint blue briefly when each broomstick touched it, then disappeared.
"After I cast the spell, we'll all mount our brooms, turn away from each other, and fly in opposite directions. I'll go east, James will go north, Sirius south, and Peter, you'll go west. I recommend flying high, if you can, so you won't be spotted from the ground."
"How will we know when to turn around and come back?" Peter asked nervously.
"Your broom will know when it reaches the end of the mapped territory," Remus explained. "We'll meet back here."
The others nodded their understanding. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. This spell, one of his grandfather's unique specialties, was one he had never performed before; and he worried that it wouldn't work, especially in this wind. At home over Christmas, Jonathan Lupin had only been able to describe the spell to him; the map had to be at Hogwarts physically in order for it to take effect.
Remus opened his eyes and saw his friends watching him confidently, gripping their brooms, waiting for his word. He drew a deep breath and pointed his wand at the center of the map.
"Cardinalis Trawlumnus!" he shouted over the wind.
The lines on the map glowed bright blue, then red, pulsating as if they were blood vessels about to burst. Red light seemed to travel into the brooms from the ends of the bristles toward the handles. Remus felt his broomstick vibrating hotly under his hand, so he quickly pocketed his wand.
"Off we go!" he ordered.
And without looking back, Remus mounted his broom and kicked off into the cold, dark sky. At once, the wind seemed to stop and the air seemed warmer. He flew straighter and more smoothly than he ever had before; it was as if the broom were in control … or, rather, as if some large, unseen hand were reeling him in on a fishing line. Looking down over the grounds, Remus watched the castle and the Forbidden Forest slip past him. He saw the wind blowing the trees below as hard as ever, but somehow no wind buffeted his broomstick. He glanced behind him and saw what looked like a huge fisherman's net attached to his broom and to the brooms of his three friends, who were flying away from him in the other cardinal directions. The net, gleaming opalescent in the night, could have been made of spider webs or of tiny filaments of light; it was hard to say. As they flew, the insubstantial net attached to the four broomsticks grew larger and larger, covering the entire castle and grounds.
Suddenly, somewhere over the Forbidden Forest, Remus's broom stopped and hovered. He turned and watched as the net slowly wafted down, down, like a street magician's handkerchief, over the forest, the grounds, the towers and courtyards, the front steps, the Great Hall, the classrooms, the greenhouses, Hagrid's hut, the Whomping Willow, the Quidditch Pitch, the lake, the road to Hogsmeade. Somehow Remus knew that microscopic bits of net would float into the school through windows, plumbing, chimneys, and water spouts. It would drift into keyholes and drawers and desks, up and down shifting steps, into secret passages, within trunks and cupboards, through bed curtains, beneath sheets and pajamas. It would locate every room and passageway that Remus and his grandfather had not charted, and those locations would appear on the map. Outside, the net would seep into tree trunks and roots, onto dead flowers, under moss and rock, inside caves and crevasses and decaying logs, into water and air and earth. Within and on all of these things the gossamer substance would remain forever, as long as the map existed. Remus, blinking hard, found himself strangely moved by the gentle power of this spell.
Unexpectedly, the wind picked up again and Remus nearly fell off his broom. It's done, Remus thought. He struggled to keep his broom from capsizing as he flew into the wind back to the Astronomy Tower.
His friends were there before he arrived, staring at the map with hands on knees, brooms discarded. Remus landed awkwardly on the stones and knelt next to James. The map was in full relief now, as if it were etched in black ink, detailed and complete.
"Blimey," James muttered, his mouth hanging open, dark hair whipping into his eyes.
As Remus watched the map, tiny figures and names popped up. He could see that Dumbledore was in his office, their dorm mates were in the Gryffindor boys' tower, the school caretaker Argus Filch was patrolling the sixth floor hallways, Hagrid was strolling through the Forbidden Forest. He wondered about Severus Snape. It was as if changing his thought allowed a shift in focus, and suddenly the Slytherin Common Room came into view. There was Snape, probably buried in a book, as usual. He thought of Lily Evans and saw a miniature figure along with her name appear, bringing the Gryffindor girls' tower into focus. Remus thought of the Astronomy Tower, and quickly the map revealed four miniscule figures clustered together and their names – Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew.
Sirius began to chuckle. His chuckle became a guffaw, which turned into a deep belly laugh. James started laughing with him, and soon Peter began to snicker, his round shoulders shaking with glee. Remus looked at his friends and smiled. They'd done it! He thought he would burst with pride.
"Well done, mates," he grinned.
"Well done? You mean brilliant!" James screamed over the noise of the wind. He clapped Remus on the back and laughed harder. "You're bloody brilliant, Moony!"
Sirius let out a hoot and Peter danced a little jig. Finally laughter bubbled up in Remus and he whooped and hollered with Sirius. James hooked Peter's elbow and they circled each other, hopping around like crazed folk dancers. The wind was so fierce that no one could have heard them unless they were downwind, so the boys reveled in their success for several minutes, shrieking and jumping up and down and slapping each other's backs.
At last, out of breath, tears of mirth streaming down his face, Remus leaned over the map again. His stomach nearly leapt out of his mouth at what he saw there: Filch was approaching the door to the Astronomy Tower. He was steps away.
"Quick, Filch is opening the door! The cloak!"
James responded in a flash and threw the invisibility cloak over them as the door swung wide. They had no choice but to crouch in the center of the parapet, on top of the map, holding the billowing cloak down with their feet.
Filch strode onto the ramparts as his cat, Mrs. Jellicorse, padded past him. She was an ancient, tattered tabby who may or may not have seen better days. Remus was frankly surprised she was still alive. But she stopped and smelled the air just feet from where the four boys sat. Although his heart still hammered, Remus silently thanked the wind for providing a bit of distraction to the animal.
"What is it, my pet? Did you hear something, too?" Filch asked in a strangely honeyed voice. Remus reflected that it was almost worse to hear this sweetness than the caretaker's usual acidic tone. He felt sorry for whichever lady Mrs. Jellicorse had been named after. Filch stood still for several minutes, almost as if he, too, were sniffing the air for wayward teenagers. Remus felt horribly exposed crouching with his friends in the middle of the parapet. Finally Filch looked down at his cat once more. "Must have been the wind. Come on, then, love."
And Filch clumped back into the stairwell, pulling the door behind him as his lamp-like eyes made a final sweep of the area before shutting the door with a clang.
"Lumos," Remus whispered, and the tip of his wand glowed with light. He looked down at the map between his feet and saw Filch trudging back down the spiral staircase. The boys stepped off the cloak and James pocketed it again. Circling the map, they waited until Filch was back on the fourth floor before speaking again.
"May I make a suggestion?" James said finally.
"Be my guest," Remus replied.
"Filch could have seen this map. We need to protect it from prying eyes."
"A password," Sirius offered, completing James's thought, as he so often seemed to do.
"It needs to be more than a password," Remus added. "Someone could go through a dictionary and eventually figure it out."
"Something that means something to us, but not to anyone else," James mused, chewing on his lip.
"Cockroach cluster!" Peter proposed.
"Lame," James said dismissively. "This is an important document. We don't want to protect it with a candy name."
Remus pointed out that they really needed two passwords – one to make the map appear on the parchment, and one to make it disappear again.
Sirius's eyes glittered impishly. "How about, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good?"
James grinned. "I like it."
Remus considered for a moment. "Yes, that's good. Hard to figure out. That'll make the map appear. And to close it should be something quick and short, in case we're surprised again."
"Mischief managed," James offered.
Remus smiled. "Simple and to the point."
They had all learned charms to protect sensitive documents and books in their classes, so James quickly applied the charms and the passwords to the map. While James worked, Remus skirted the edges of the ramparts. The grounds below looked eerie in the moonlight. The bushes and trees waved in the blustery wind, as if the earth itself were alive and trying to get Remus's attention by waving a multitude of craggy appendages at him.
When Remus turned back to his friends, he saw Sirius and James both crouched over the map, with Peter peering over their shoulders.
"We've given it a title," James said proudly.
"And another protective device," Sirius added.
"Well, I don't know that I'd call it protective –" James began.
"Well, it's defending itself!" Sirius argued.
"What the hell did you two do while my back was turned?" Remus glared. "You didn't mess it up, did you?"
"No, no, I was right here," Peter said quickly. "It's fine."
"Try it." James held out the parchment, now innocently blank again.
Remus took it and pointed his wand at it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
At once the map burst into life. On it, James had added the words
Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present
THE MARAUDERS MAP
Remus smiled. "You've forgot the apostrophe."
"Oh, piss off," James muttered. And he corrected it with a flick of his wand to say THE MARAUDER'S MAP. Remus hadn't the heart to tell him he'd put the apostrophe in the wrong place.
Instead Remus nodded, "No, I like it, good work. Nice title. Okay. Mischief managed." And the map and tiny figures and names disappeared, leaving only the parchment once more. "Brilliant."
Peter took the map from Remus. "Let's try the thing that Sirius put in." Peter pointed his wand at the map. "Reveal your secret."
Several lines of writing appeared on the page, seeping across like blood.
Mister Moony regrets to inform Mister Pettigrew that he's gone and forgotten the password.
Mister Prongs concurs and would like to add that Mister Pettigrew needs to pay better attention if he wishes to take trips with Messrs. Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs in future.
Mister Padfoot must remind Mister Pettigrew that only a silly git would think of a password like "cockroach cluster."
Mister Wormtail sadly agrees that Mister Pettigrew could take a lesson in stylish password writing from Messrs. Prongs and Padfoot.
As they watched, the writing slowly faded away. Remus had to admit that the insult charm added a certain panache to the map, and he smiled.
"Hey, I insulted myself!" Peter whined.
"I told you you would," Sirius said flatly.