Chapter One Hundred and Seven - The Marauders

The rain fell heavily throughout the day. Harry was grateful for the storm, hopeful that it would serve as cover for the students who made their way across the damp grounds that afternoon. But even with the downpour, Harry wasn't taking any chances. His invisibility cloak provided additional protection from both the storm and from prying eyes as he made his solitary way toward the Whomping Willow, consulting the Marauder's Map every step of the way.

He had volunteered to be the last to make the journey, in case anyone got held up by the Willow or needed a distraction to escape Filch. Fortunately, there was no trouble. The little dots marking each student had vanished from the map as they disappeared beneath down the hidden passage, leaving the school grounds. Assured that his comrades had made it safely to their destination, Harry tucked the map away and swiftly followed them down the secret path.

The shack was packed with students when he arrived. He thought that perhaps the rain would discourage a few of them from coming, but not a single individual from their first meeting had neglected to attend this inaugural event. Harry expected many of his fellow Slytherins to turn their noses up at the dilapidated condition of the Shrieking Shack, but to his surprise he found a room alive with conversation and laughter. The students from every house seemed energized by the knowledge that they were breaking school rules and defying Umbridge in the process.

Harry couldn't suppress a grin as he felt a similar rush of excitement flow through him, particularly as Hermione had just caught his eye. She returned his smile brightly, and Harry directed his steps toward her and Millie. Together they began moving bits of broken furniture aside with their wands, preparing plenty to open space to practice their magic.

"Hey, Harry!" called Fred Weasley while he was completing this task, "Pretty cool place you've got here! I never knew there was a passage leading to the Shrieking Shack!"

"Yeah, and we thought we knew every passage in the school," George confirmed.

Before Harry could reply, their friend Lee Jordan had added, "Where are the ghosts that are supposed to haunt this place?"

He was looking around the room as if he expected another Peeves to pop out of some abandoned cabinet.

"There aren't any ghosts here," Harry explained, "There never were. But the rumors will work in our favor. It'll keep the villagers away. Even if they hear us, they'll just think it's a poltergeist or something."

He finished helping Hermione and Millie set a worn sofa aside, then turned toward the twins. It was then that he realized the room had fallen silent. They seemed to be hanging on his every word. Harry felt his face burn with embarrassment.

"So anyway," he continued with an awkward cough, "There's something you all need to understand before we get started. We need to agree on who'll be leading this…"

"I thought you were our leader?" Colin Creevy interrupted. A few others nodded their heads in agreement, though Harry noticed one or two who looked apprehensive.

"Actually, Millie's going to be doing most of the teaching," Harry said with a sigh. He was getting tired of constantly disclaiming his leadership role. He turned to his friends for support.

He wasn't sure what made Millie scowl, as she had been the one to agree to take on more pupils, but she stepped forward to address the group without complaint.

"That's right. I'll see to the day to day lesson plans," she said, "Harry and Blaise will help you all practice. I've already taught them every jinx, curse, and hex that I know… And the countercurses, of course."

Hermione raised her hand in the air, "What if we have a name? Something to make us feel more like a team?"

"What about the Anti-Umbridge Association?" suggested Herb Pandey. His hands moved in time with his words, signing their conversation so that his sister could follow along.

"That's too on-the-nose," said Fred, "We need something cool and snappy, like the Insurgency Resurgency or something."

"Insurgency Resurgency? What does that even mean?" asked Oliver Rivers testily.

"Let's see you come up with something better!"

Hermione spoke up again before the argument could escalate. "I was thinking something more subtle? Something that wouldn't reveal what we're doing if we're overheard."

A murmur passed through the crowd as everyone voiced their agreement. They seemed keen on a group name, but no one seemed to have an idea that met their criteria.

Harry gazed around the room. Thirty students huddled together in the Shrieking Shack. It had once served as a secret hideout for his father and his closest friends. And they had all gone on to be members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. It gave Harry an idea.

"The Marauders," he said aloud. Once again, all eyes were turned toward him, but he didn't feel embarrassed this time. He repeated in a louder voice, "We should call ourselves the Marauders."

"I like it!" called Warrington from the back of the room, "Sounds like a quidditch team."

"Or a musical group!" squealed Lavender Brown. "If anyone hears us talking, we could just tell them it's a new band!"

Blaise and Millie, knowing the inspiration for the name, were also delighted by the idea. Harry didn't expect anyone else to understand, but he saw looks of recognition cross Fred and George's faces. He almost forgot that they had pinched the Marauder's Map from Filch's office, only to have it stolen by Harry in his third year. Harry had of course never confessed to the crime, and it had never occurred to him to try returning it. He worried what the twins would do if they suspected he had the map. He watched with anxiety as the pair bent their heads together and whispered, but when it came time for a vote, they were heartily in favor of the new name.

The first order of business decided, Harry gladly stepped aside for Millie to begin her instruction. She started with the full-body bind, one of her favorite jinxes, and the counter-curse to correct it. Harry and Blaise, already well-versed in the spell since their first year at Hogwarts, thanks to Millie's fine teaching, moved about the room to offer pointers to the others.

After Dean Thomas managed to set fire to Nott's robes and Malcom Baddock knocked Graham Pritcher out completely, it became apparent that many students, even those in more advanced years, needed a refresher on the basics. Millie ordered everyone to cease fire and suggested practicing the Disarming Spell, instead.

She directed a pleading glance at Harry. The Disarming Spell was considered one of his specialties, and he knew she wanted his help to get things back on track. Harry stepped forward, still a little uncomfortable with all the attention, and began to teach.

Blaise stood opposite from him, and after reminding the Marauders of the basic incantation and wand movement, he performed a quick demonstration. Blaise, his wand at the ready, moved to strike, but Harry was faster. With a downward flick of his wand, he disarmed Blaise, and his friend's wand clattered to the floor several feet away.

He didn't think it was much to impress. Lockhart had taught them all the same spell a mere three years ago, and he was next to useless as a teacher. But there was a general cheer of appreciation as the students turned back toward their own partners, ready to continue practice.

Harry suggested that they rehearse the wand movement without the incantation first. He then walked about the room, checking the progress that they were making. It had been a good idea to go back to basics. There was a definite improvement in everyone's aim and intonation as they rehearsed a few times. Little by little, those emboldened enough to give the spell a try began firing, and all around the room wands were being neatly plucked from their wielder's hands.

Harry approached Hermione just as she was about to recite the incantation to disarm Neville, but when she noticed Harry standing by her side, she let out a squeak of alarm. Poor Neville was thrown backward into the old, dusty sofa they had cleared away for their practice. His wand miraculously remained in his closed fist.

"Sorry, Neville!" Hermione cried, rushing toward her friend, "Harry! You shouldn't surprise me like that! I promise I was doing really well before. Tell him, Neville!"

Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing, though he also apologized to Neville for the interruption.

"It's no problem! This has been great!" Neville said as he climbed to his feet. "In fact, watch this!"

Holding his wand at the ready, he aimed at Blaise, who was watching a pair of Gryffindors nearby, his wand held loosely at his side.

"Expelliarmus!"

Blaise's wand was whipped from his hand and came soaring across the room, where Neville caught it as if he had been disarming people his whole life.

"See that, Harry?" Neville asked excitedly, "I even caught it that time!"

Harry might have mentioned that in a real duel, Blaise wasn't likely to be distracted. But he kept his comments to himself, congratulating Neville on his progress while Blaise marched toward them, torn between his desire to bully Neville and feeling genuinely impressed by his newfound skill.

Harry would have liked to stay and chat with Hermione some more, but she had come to practice, not talk to him. With Blaise now offering a few pointers to Neville, Harry moved on to observe another dueling pair.

His gaze fell on Nell, who was practicing with Luna Lovegood. Oliver Rivers had paired himself with Colin Creevy, but that didn't stop him from looking on with jealousy as Harry stopped to correct Nell's form.

"What's going on between you and Hermione?" Nell whispered to him with a conspiratorial air, "I thought I saw sparks fly from across the room!"

Harry smirked and nodded toward Rivers. "I could ask you the same about him."

"Oh, Oliver," Nell scoffed lightly, "Try to ignore him, Harry."

It would be no easy task, for just then, Harry's wand flipped out of his pocket and clattered across the floor. Harry glanced at Rivers, who shrugged and said, "Sorry, Potter. I missed."

Harry was about to retrieve his wand, but the obliging Colin had already collected it for him. Careful not to turn his back on Rivers completely, Harry looked at Nell, and saw she was directing a warning glare at her friend.

"What's he got against me, anyway?"

Nell sighed, "He's just jealous that you asked me to the Yule Ball before he'd worked up the courage. It's bad enough that he thinks I've got a thing for you, now. If he knew who I really fancied, I'm sure it'd be much…"

Nell caught herself, but it was too late. She had just revealed something very interesting, and even Harry wasn't so dense that he missed the hint.

"Who do you like?" he asked.

"Shut up," Nell replied.

"Is it someone here?" His gaze darted around the room as he wondered which boy or girl had caught Nell's attention.

"I said shut it!" Nell repeated, throwing her hands over Harry's mouth to silence him. It was all the confirmation he needed. He didn't even mind the daggers Rivers directed at him with his envious stare. Nell had a crush on someone in the Marauders, and Harry was delighted with the discovery.

"I don't meant to interrupt whatever this is," Luna Lovegood said with her dreamy drawl, "But isn't it getting rather late?"

Harry checked his watch and realized she was right. It was already well past dinner. If they stayed out any longer, they ran the risk of being caught out of bed past curfew.

"We'll talk about this later," Harry said to Nell before turning to find Millie.

"Let's not!" she called as Harry began picking his way through the still-practicing students.

After settling on a day and time for their next meeting, Harry took the lead back down the hidden passage. He held the Marauder's Map in front of him as he guided the students back onto the grounds in groups of two and three, timing five minutes in between each party.

"Gryffindor common room, right?" Harry said to Ginny and Dennis, his eyes running over the path they'd need to take, "Right, you'll want to avoid the moving staircases. Mrs. Norris is lurking there. Try the hidden staircase on the second floor."

Ginny seemed very curious to know how Harry knew where the Gryffindor common room was located, but as he was already having her through the passage, she hadn't time to ask. Instead, two voices called out in unison, "I knew it!"

Harry looked up to find Ginny's twin brothers grinning at him. He tried to stow the map away, but the damage was already done.

"Don't bother," said Fred as Harry fumbled with the folds of the map, "We figured it was you who stole it when you suggested our group name."

"We won't ask how you got it," George added, "But answer one thing. How'd you know about it in the first place? We never told a soul."

There was no sense in trying to hide now. In fact, Harry welcomed the opportunity to share his father's genius with others. He opened the map to its title and pointed out the names of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

"See that?" he said, gesturing to the last name, "This was my dad."

Fred and George gaped at him in astonishment. Harry, with still more pride, pointed next to Padfoot and Moony.

"Sirius and Remus," he explained.

"You mean stodgy old Professor Lupin has been Mr. Moony this whole time? Blimey, we knew Sirius was cool, but this is amazing!"

Harry would have liked to discuss the map's history with them at length, but it was time to send them off to their dormitories. After promising to regale him with their own tale of pinching it from Filch's office, the twins slipped out of the passage with Lee Jordan close behind.

Hermione and Neville were among the last to leave. Hermione's smile was bright and enchanting as she congratulated Harry on a successful first class. Harry downplayed his part in the endeavor, reminding Hermione that it was she and Millie who made the Marauders what they were. But no matter what he said aloud, he couldn't resist a feeling of satisfaction when he remembered Hermione's praise. He was walking on clouds all the way back to his dormitory.


Over the next two weeks, they held three more meetings. Harry initially believed that one meeting a week would be all they had time for. They had to accommodate the practice schedules of not one, but two quidditch teams, not to mention the mountain of homework facing the fifth and seventh year students. But to his surprise, not only were the Marauders demanding more frequent lessons, but their numbers had grown.

Harry noticed the change at the start of their third lesson. Students from Hufflepuff had joined their ranks, each of them gladly signing Hermione's list when prompted. Though the Marauders had all agreed not to breathe a word of their meetings to Umbridge or any other staff member at Hogwarts, it seemed word had spread among the student body.

"We're going to outgrow the shack at this rate," Millie warned.

Harry hated to admit it, but she was right. They had spread themselves over several of the cramped rooms of the shack, but it was filling fast. And in spite of their efforts to make minor repairs, the weather was growing colder, and soon a few of their practice rooms would be uninhabitable. Hermione thought of several spells to make the space more comfortable, but even these could not change the dimensions of the shack itself.

"Isn't there a charm to make rooms bigger on the inside?" Harry asked Blaise, "Like the one on Sirius's tent? The one we used at the World Cup?"

Blaise was forced to admit that even his skills were not up to such advanced magic, and the idea was scrapped.

"There's always the Chamber of Secrets," Harry suggested, "I know you weren't wild about it before, but it's certainly roomy enough. And we wouldn't have to cross the school grounds to get there."

Hermione put an end to this idea almost immediately. "Do you really think Daphne Greengrass or her friends would agree to slide down that disgusting tunnel?"

"She might if I ask her," Blaise said thoughtfully.

Hermione scoffed and shook her head. "She's not nearly as obsessed with you as you seem to think she is."

Harry agreed to study the map to see if there were any other options for their meeting place. He agreed to satisfy Hermione, but he privately thought the exercise would be futile. He had poured over every inch of the map several times. He knew the locations of the hidden passages by heart. Every room and chamber in the school had been mapped out, with the exception of the Chamber of Secrets. Its location hadn't been discovered until Harry's second year. Unless there was some other hidden room the original Marauder's never knew about…

Then he remembered. The school kitchens. Its location hadn't been labeled on the map. Harry had needed Dobby's instructions to get in the first time he visited. Hogwarts was maintained almost entirely by house-elves. Filch was the caretaker in name only. It was the elves who cleaned, lit the fires, and prepared their meals. And yet most of the students of Hogwarts never saw the elves performing their duties. Harry wondered if they knew of other passages and chambers, never used by the witches and wizards who inhabited the school. With this in mind, Harry decided to consult Dobby at the first opportunity.

Meanwhile, Hermione had devised a new way of sharing meeting times with the rest of the group.

"They're not real galleons," she explained as she deposited the gold pieces in front of Harry, Blaise, and Millie, "But they'll look the same to anyone not looking closely. It will become hot whenever the date changes, so people will know if they keep it in their pockets. I've given Millie the original, so when she changes the date on the edge other coin, everyone else's will change to match."

"Hold on…" Blaise said, inspecting his coin with suspicion, "What charm did you use to do that?"

"The Protean Charm?" Hermione replied with a questioning tone that almost seemed to be seeking his approval.

"But that's a NEWT level charm!" Blaise exclaimed in awe.

"Yes… Well, I happened to come across it while I was studying for the OWLs, and it seemed useful, so I thought I'd just give it a try and…"

Blaise continued to stare at Hermione until eventually she lost her train of thought and fumbled her words.

"Wow…" he finally said, "And I thought I was good."

They each accepted their faux galleons, but the next lesson would be postponed for a time. The first quidditch match of the year was swiftly approaching, and their study sessions were suspended as practices for the two competing teams increased.

A strange feeling permeated the air in the days leading up to the match. Traditionally, Gryffindor and Slytherin were intense rivals, and the opening game of the tournament was highly competitive. But as new alliances had formed across house lines, the anticipation before the first match felt less threatening and more exciting than Harry remembered in years past.

Harry realized just how odd the change must look to the rest of the student body when he walked into the Great Hall one morning to find Draco once again sitting beside Ron Weasley and his usual crew of Gryffindors. Ron had just been made Keeper of the Gryffindor team that year, and now he was sitting next to a Slytherin Chaser, sharing breakfast with him like two old friends.

And this was only one example of the changes that were slowly snaking their way through the school. New friendships were cropping up left and right thanks to their secret lessons. As students began crossing the Great Hall, seating themselves with other houses and forming mixed groups of friends, it was no longer strange for Hermione and Neville to join the Slytherins.

Some were not limiting themselves to fellow Marauders, either.

"The Gryffindor captain is kind of cute," Warrington commented, eyeing Angelina Johnson from across the Great Hall. "Think I have a shot with her? Maybe she'd take me up on a bet. If she wins the first match, she'll go on a date with me."

Harry raised his brow quizzically and asked, "Shouldn't that be the other way around? Why would she agree to a date if she wins the match?"

"No! See if we lose to Gryffindor, I'll need someone to cheer me up. Consider it a consolation prize."

"She'll throw the match if that's the outcome."

"So it's a win for me either way!"

Harry smirked at his reasoning, but was forced to admit, "I think she's going out with Fred Weasley."

"The ugly twin?" Warrington asked with a frown.

Harry gaped at him. "They're identical!"

Warrington shook his head, "No way. I've always been able to tell the difference. Fred's the one with the attitude problem, isn't he? Johnson can do better."

Warrington would have to sort out his own love life. Harry simply wanted to enjoy the new sense of camaraderie he'd found with the other houses. Seeing students of Slytherin house be accepted easily among the other three was a novel occurrence in Harry's experience, and he felt a sense of pride that he'd helped contribute to the circumstance.

In spite of these positive changes, however, Harry did not expect Hermione and Neville to be sitting at the Slytherin table the morning of the first quidditch match. It would be natural for them to demonstrate their house pride among the Gryffindors. Instead, he found them proudly reinstated in their usual places at the Slytherin table, shockingly decked out in silver and green.

"That color looks good on you," Harry said as he took the open seat next to Hermione. She looked a trifle flustered by the compliment, and Harry's stomach did a backflip.

"I thought we'd show our support… It seems like ages since we've seen you play."

Harry didn't trust himself to make a smooth response, so he merely smiled, and tried to focus on breakfast. But a combination of nerves and excitement deadened his appetite, and he was soon glancing around the hall, enjoying the energy and bustle that always pervaded the school prior to a quidditch match.

He spotted Draco as he entered the Great Hall. He paused near the door, looking longingly at the Gryffindor table. But Ron was sitting with the rest of the Gryffindor team, already dressed in his quidditch robes. Reluctantly, Draco made his way toward the Slytherin table, sitting himself close to Harry's group, though they were soon separated as the other member of their team filled the gaps between them.

Warrington addressed his team with a pre-match pep-talk.

"I know that we've made some new friends this year," he said, looking pointedly at Draco, then at Hermione and Neville, who were still seated on either side of Harry. "But I want you to forget all of that on the pitch. Forget about inter-house friendships and focus on your true family - this team! No offense," he added, pausing to address Hermione and Neville, "It's just… Neither of you play quidditch, so you wouldn't understand."

After this rousing speech, he ordered them to proceed to the locker room. Harry, his breakfast almost untouched, was glad to have an excuse to get moving again. He wanted to be on his broom as soon as possible. Waving goodbye to his friends, he began following the rest of his team out the door. But when he was only a few steps outside the Great Hall, a voice called him back.

Hermione had followed him from the table. Before Harry could ask her what was up, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on his cheek.

"For luck!" she told him a little breathlessly, then she turned away and hurried back into the Hall.

All the blood in Harry's body rushed to his face. He was grateful that the rest of the team had not waited for him. He didn't know if he could handle their teasing, and he needed the entire walk to the locker rooms to calm himself. Still, he didn't really mind. With Hermione's kiss still warming his cheek, he felt like he could face the entire Gryffindor team alone and still win.

When he rejoined the team, Warrington was busy canvassing the entire Gryffindor roster once more. Harry had already memorized his list from previous practices. Warrington was a big believer in "knowing your enemy" and thus he had bribed several first-years into spying on the Gryffindor team's practices and compiled a list of their strengths and weaknesses. Harry didn't know what Angelina Johnson's favorite flavor of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum had to do with quidditch, but Warrington insisted that this information was vital to his research.

"Johnson's a new captain," Warrington said for perhaps the fiftieth time, "But she's been on the team since Wood's time. So have Spinnet, Bell, Nott, and the Weasley twins. They're an experienced team, but they haven't got our strength," he paused to nod appreciatively at their new beaters, "But they're quick. Keep an eye out for those chasers. Now then, the only newbie is their keeper, Ron Weasley. He'll be the weak link. Chasers, hit the goals hard and fast. Even if it's not a great toss, go for it. We want to test Weasley's limits. Psych him out. And Harry, if you've up against Nott for the snitch, try the feint we practiced."

The sound of many voices screaming at once rang in Harry's ears as they marched onto the field. Harry glanced over the Gryffindor team. Warrington had been right about Ron. He looked a bit squeamish in his uniform, clearly nervous for his first match. Angelina, by contrast, seemed to exude confidence as she gazed impassively back at her opponents.

Harry's glance finally came to rest on the Gryffindor seeker, Nott. He was a regular member of Ron's crew, not to mention one of the Marauders, but for some reason Harry had difficulty recalling the boy's first name. It seemed an awkward time to ask about it now, and he made a mental note to ask Hermione after the match.

Madame Hooch instructed the two captains to step forward and shake hands, as was customary, but Warrington did something unexpected. He bent at the waist, intending to kiss the back of Angelina's hand. She quickly pulled away from him, and Harry eyes flashed to Fred Weasley. He looked furious.

"A handshake will do just fine, Mr. Warrington," Madame Hooch scolded.

"Sorry," Warrington replied, though his laughter belied his sincerity, "I was only trying to be a gentleman. May the best man win, Johnson."

"I think you mean woman," Angelina replied tersely before extending her hand once more.

They shook hands properly this time, and soon the two teams had taken flight. Alone in the air, Harry had time to reflect that it was odd for Warrington to tell them to leave their personal relationships off the pitch, only to proceed to flirt with Angelina Johnson. But an ulterior motive to his actions soon presented itself. Fred Weasley was outraged. Abandoning the twins' usual tactics, he focused his efforts on aiming bludgers at Warrington alone. Though this placed their captain at considerable risk, it afforded Draco and Montague more opportunities to run the two-man drills they had practiced together. It wasn't long before Slytherin had gained the first goal on Gryffindor.

Meanwhile, Lee Jordan's commentary on the match was doing nothing to distract Fred from Warrington's performance.

"If Warrington is so keen on Johnson, he'll have to do better than that. I've asked her out loads of times, and always got rejected!"

"Jordan!" bellowed Professor McGonagall. As usual, she needed to be on hand to supervise their over-enthusiastic commentator.

"Sorry, Professor. Just a bit of personal interest. Keeps the audience interested in the match."

"Just stick to the score, Jordan."

McGonagall had plenty of reasons to complain. Angelina had been rushing toward the Slytherin goal posts, but when Jordan loudly proclaimed this personal information, her shot missed by a mile. Bletchley caught the quaffle and easily passed it to Montague, who went speeding back to the Gryffindor goals with it.

Although Harry was curious to see how Ron fared as a keeper, he turned his attention to his search for the snitch. Across the field and hovering slightly lower, Nott was doing the same. Harry kept his eyes on him as he circled overhead, careful to avoid bludgers and other players as he weaved in and around the towers surrounding the field.

Suddenly, Nott entered a dive. Harry assumed it was feint, but he quickly realized his mistake. The snitch was there, closer in altitude to Nott, but flitting toward the middle of the field.

Harry laid flat against his broom. His faithful Nimbus sped through the air like lightning. Harry wasn't sure what kind of broom Nott was flying, but he was fast. Harry was faster. Soon they were neck and neck, chasing the snitch as it fluttered upward, just out of reach…

It was over in seconds. Harry had the snitch in his hand, and the crowd erupted into cheers.

The Slytherin team touched down to earth and rushed Harry. He noticed that Warrington's nose was gushing blood, even though he was shouting as loud as the rest. One of the Weasley's bludgers must have found their mark.

To his surprise, the Gryffindor team had also landed not far away and were waiting to offer their congratulations on a well-played game. Fred even extended his hand to Warrington, smilingly saying, "No hard feelings."

But as Warrington accepted the handshake, Fred pulled him in closer. Harry distinctly heard the words, "We'll settle this at the next Marauders meeting."

"Looking forward to it!" said Warrington, his eyes glittering mischievously.

"Marauders?" Angelina asked with a frown, "Who are the Marauders?"

"Tell you later," Fred said, directing a wink at Harry. It reminded him that he needed to meet with Dobby, and soon. If their group got any larger, they would overrun the Shrieking Shack.

Not far off, Ron had pulled Draco into a headlock, ruffling his usually pristine blond hair.

"Is this the bastard who slipped the quaffle past me?" he was ridiculing playfully, "After I took you under my wing and helped you train for try-outs?"

"Stop! You're messing up my hair!" Draco complained, though he was laughing all the while.

Harry found that he was grinning too, watching these two former rivals getting along. From the stands, Snape and McGonagall looked at their teams, completely mystified by this sudden alliance between two longtime rivals.