Kindred Spirits

by Tailkinker

This is a work of fan fiction based on the Harry Potter series and the Sailor Moon franchise created respectively by J.K. Rowling and Naoko Takeuchi. The characters and settings belong to their respective owners and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and should not be considered as part of the official canon of either series.

The Marauder's Map

The practice that evening had been long and gruelling, and Harry felt well in need of a good, hot shower. Cold, stiff and sore, he stumbled into the Gryffindor common room, to see Hermione and Ron at the bulletin board.

"Something of interest?" he asked.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron. He grinned. "Can't wait. Fred and George have been teasing me with half-truths for the last two years."

The twins were right on Harry's heels. "When is it?" asked George.

"Next Sunday," said Ron. "Hallowe'en."

"Great," said Fred. "Nearly out of stink pellets."

"We'll have to make a stop at Zonko's," added George.

"I'm looking forward to Scrivenshaft's myself," said Hermione.

"Of course you are," said Ron, grinning. "I want to see Honeyduke's. Supposedly, they have five hundred kinds of candy."

"Not all of them are suitable for human consumption," pointed out Fred.

"Yeah," said George. "Cockroach clusters and acid pops aren't for the likes of us."

"Is there a broom shop?" asked Harry.

"Dervish and Banges," said Fred. "They sell all sorts of equipment, but they've got a lot of broomstick material, on account of the school."

"Pity the school can't get new brooms for the beginners," said George.

"Are you sure they'll let you go?" asked Hermione.

Harry frowned. "Why wouldn't they?"

"Well, there's that little detail of a mass murderer being on the loose," said George.

"True. And we all know he's after Harry," added Fred.

"I don't think he is," said Harry. "In fact, I bet he's after whoever really killed Peter Pettigrew."

"Who?"

"Peter Pettigrew," said Harry. "Wait one." He ran upstairs, and dug into his trunk. He grabbed the letter from Ted Tonks, and went back downstairs.

"Back during the summer, when I first heard about Sirius Black, I retained a barrister," he said. "He wrote back to me last month. He said that Sirius was imprisoned for killing a man named Peter Pettigrew." He unfolded the letter. "But Ted said—sorry. Ted's my barrister. He said that Sirius was never tried. Just chucked straight into Azkaban. They apparently never even questioned him.

"Now, I don't know about you, but that seems a bit off to me." Harry tapped the letter. "Ted says that witnesses remember Black confronting Pettigrew, and that Pettigrew yelled something about betraying them. Then there was an explosion. Killed a lot of people, including Pettigrew. Nobody's certain who cast the first spell. My guess is, Black was falsely imprisoned because of whoever actually killed Pettigrew."

"Harry," said Fred. "Did this Pettigrew chap have any kids?"

"I don't know," admitted Harry. "I suppose he might have. Why?"

"Isn't there a Peter Pettigrew in your year?" asked George. "In your dorm, even?"

"No," said Harry. "There's me, Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus. How do you not know?"

"But we've seen Pettigrew in your room."

Harry frowned. "How?"

George looked at Fred. "Should we tell them?"

"I think we have to," admitted Fred. "Otherwise, they'll think we're barking."

"Go get it, then."

Fred turned and dashed up the stairs.

"What is it you're on about?" asked Ron.

"Don't you ever wonder how it is we know about all the secret passages?" asked George. "Or how we avoid getting caught by Filch?" He paused, then admitted, "At least, not too often?"

Fred came back down the stairs, a piece of parchment in hand. He unfolded it, and set it on a table, then touched his wand to it.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Immediately, black lines started to spread out from the point that the wand touched. Harry gulped; it reminded him uncomfortably of Tom Riddle's diary. However, it didn't take long for him to recognize the pattern emerging in the lines.

"Is that a map of Gryffindor Tower?"

"More than that, our most excellent Seeker," said Fred.

"This is the secret of our success," continued George. "The Marauder's Map."

As the lines continued to radiate across the page, they spread out to encompass the entire castle. Small sets of footprints could now be seen on the map, each with a label floating nearby. Harry could see his own name, next to those of Hermione, Ron, Fred and George in the common room. He could see Neville's footprints making their way towards Gryffindor Tower, and Seamus Finnegan's footprints in the lavatory.

"See, we've seen Pettigrew's footprints in your common room on this," said George.

"Maybe it was wrong?" said Ron.

"It's never wrong," said Fred. "Once, we needed to find Professor McGonagall."

"Don't ask why," said George.

"We followed her footsteps," continued Fred. "But she was in her Animagus form. She was kind of surprised that we knew it was her."

"Where did you even find this?" asked Hermione.

"Nicked it from Filch's office," said Fred.

"It was in a cabinet marked, 'Confiscated and Extremely Dangerous'."

"Figured it would be good for a laugh," finished Fred.

"I think Neville's forgotten the password again," said Harry. "He's been stuck outside the door for almost a minute. I don't see Pettigrew on it at all."

"There's certain places it won't work," admitted Fred.

"When Ginny vanished last year, we checked this straightaway," said George.

"Since she didn't turn up, we can assume that the Chamber of Secrets isn't covered," said Fred.

"Neither is Hagrid's hut," said George. "And there's some spot on the seventh floor that we know is there, but we can't find it on the map. Problem is, we can't find it on the seventh floor anymore, either."

"This could be very dangerous in the wrong hands," pointed out Hermione. "Such as that of a certain escaped mass murderer."

"But—"

"I know, Harry," she said. "But we don't really know anything about him, do we? For all we know, he could well be guilty."

"I'll tell you what," said George. "We've got this thing basically committed to memory."

"Bit of a twist, giving it to you," said Fred. "But if it helps keep you safe, it's probably for the best."

"Use it in good health, Harry," finished George.

"Really?"

"All yours," they chorused.

"Thanks, you guys." He grinned. "Oh...how do I turn it off?"

"Just touch your wand to it," said Fred, and touched his own to it. "And say, 'Mischief Managed'."

The map faded out, leaving the parchment blank.

"Hotaru-chan!" Harry waved as his friend entered the Great Hall. She smiled at him, and hurried over, her arms folded over the sketch book that she clutched to her chest.

"Good morning, Harry-kun," she said, smiling.

Harry was pleased that she was acting more herself. The last few weeks had been rough on her, but it seemed that she was finally cheering up.

"Going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Um..." She looked down, blushing. "I...Papa agreed to sign my form only on one condition." Her blush deepened. "I can only go if I have someone to accompany me."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Someone like who? A professor?"

Hotaru's eyes darted around nervously. "Well, actually...you, Harry."

Harry's surprise was evident on his face. "Me? Why?"

Hotaru hesitated for a moment before responding. "Well, you see, Papa worries about my safety, especially with all the recent events. He thought it would be best if I had someone I trust with me, and you were the first person who came to mind."

Harry considered her request. He knew Hotaru and her father were aware of the danger surrounding him, but he had never imagined being asked to accompany her to Hogsmeade. On the other hand, Tomoe-sensei had asked him to look after Hotaru...

"Of course, Hotaru-chan," he finally replied, a smile forming on his face. "I'd be happy to go with you."

Her eyes lit up with excitement and relief. "Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it."

They made their way over to the Gryffindor table. Some members of his House—mostly Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown—had complained about a Ravenclaw joining them for meals. However, after the time that Hotaru pranked the Weasley twins, nobody had dared to object.

"I was thinking about the Map."

"Oh?" Hotaru glanced over at him. "You mean about Peter Pettigrew."

"Yeah," admitted Harry. "I've still not seen him on it. But Fred and George were pretty insistent. And this is the sort of thing that they wouldn't joke about."

"Not much is off limits to those two."

"No," said Harry with a grin. "But even they would draw the line at mass murderers and their victims.

"I was thinking that we should tell one of the Professors that Peter Pettigrew was detected in the castle."

"I thought you didn't want to show anybody the Map."

"That's what's got me stumped," said Harry, a scowl creasing his face. "How do I tell someone without showing them the Map?"

Hotaru pondered Harry's question for a moment, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Maybe there's a way we can provide the information without explicitly mentioning the Map? All we really need to do is raise some suspicion."

Harry nodded, intrigued by the suggestion. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Hotaru began, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "we could write an anonymous letter to one of the professors, like Professor Flitwick. We can describe the situation, mention that we have reason to believe Peter Pettigrew is alive and inside the castle, and ask him to investigate discreetly."

Harry considered her idea. It seemed like a plausible solution that could help them raise the alarm without exposing the Map. "That could work. But how do we make sure they take it seriously? I mean, it's just an anonymous letter."

"Is there any detail you can think of, that only a person with inside knowledge could have?"

Harry considered that, then a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Not at this exact moment, but I can get one quickly." He grabbed his fork, and dug into his eggs. "All I have to do is pull out the map, wait until Flitwick has a meeting with another staff member—with no students present—and note things like how long it lasts, or if they move around in any particular way."

Hotaru's eyes widened. "Something that a person could only have, if they had some way of tracking people down."

"But how do we deliver it?" fretted Harry. "I can't exactly send Hedwig. She's kind of distinctive. And if I send it with any other owl, she'll do her nut."

"What about sending it with a Hogwarts House Elf?"

Harry shook his head. "If the Professor asks, the House Elf would have to tell them where it came from." He grinned. "But I happen to know a very devoted House Elf, who would deliver it and answer no questions."