In the days following Sirius Black's intrusion, the event was a popular topic among the students, out of curiosity more than fear. Having a homicidal Dark wizard lurking about was no worse than having Slytherin's monster doing so, as the school had endured the year before.
Lupin fell ill for several days, and sent Harry and Ginny a message apologizing for being unable to meet with them that week. He was absent from his Defense classes as well. Snape filled in, and replaced Lupin's planned lesson with a lecture on werewolves, and assigned an essay on the topic.
Quidditch continued, in spite of weather which continued to worsen. The first Gryffindor Quidditch match was against Slytherin. Malfoy claimed his "old Hippogriff wound" was acting up, but even Snape seemed weary of indulging him.
The day of the match, a heavy thunderstorm was pounding rain into the Quidditch pitch, and showed no sign of letting up. Hermione declared it irresponsible for the school to allow any sort of outdoor event when there was a threat of lightning, let alone one where students would be up in the air.
Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked at her like she'd lost her mind. This was Quidditch.
At the match, the Slytherins played their usual game: aggressive, bordering on dirty–and stepping over that border whenever Hooch was looking the other way. Despite this, Gryffindor managed to take an early lead and keep it.
Harry was searching for the Snitch when he spotted a massive black dog sitting in an empty row at the top of the stands. The Grim. Perfect. As if having Black and the Dementors after him weren't enough.
Then he spotted the Snitch, which pushed other thoughts aside. Anything not actively trying to kill him at that exact moment could wait.
Malfoy hadn't noticed the Snitch yet. Harry kept them both in view, as he flew a slow zigzag designed to move him closer to the Snitch without giving anything away. The second Malfoy's attention shifted to something below them, Harry took off like a shot.
He pushed his broom for every bit of speed it could give. Malfoy had to be right on his bristles. The Slytherin Seeker was a knob, but he was serious about Quidditch; whatever had distracted him wouldn't hold his attention long. Harry couldn't waste the advantage of his slight lead.
The Snitch was putting up a last minute fight, darting about, changing course in a series of sudden jerks, but Harry had his attention locked so tight on it that the small golden ball seemed to be moving in slow motion. He felt like he had forever to study each turn it made and adjust his own course to match.
Harry reached out and closed his fingers around the Snitch, then turned his broom to shoot a smug look at Malfoy. He found himself alone in the sky. That was… unexpected. He looked down, and had a panicked moment of thinking he was falling towards the clouds, until he realized the clouds were rushing up to meet him.
No. Not clouds. A massive swarm of Dementors.
After a second surge of fear as he realized the true danger, an idea struck him. It wasn't necessarily a good one, but since the alternative was passing out and crashing into the ground anyway, he might as well enjoy the ride.
He drew his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
He still couldn't manage a corporeal Patronus, so the mist would have to do. He tipped his broom almost vertical and dove towards the center of the swarm. With his wand pointed ahead, silvery Patronus mist flowed out in front of him, then streamed back to envelop him as he flew through it. He hoped the shimmering cocoon would protect him, if he could keep it going long enough.
He felt the temperature drop and heard a woman screaming, but in an instant he shot through the swarm of Dementors and out the other side.
The ground came into view, rushing towards him with far too much speed, but this was a more familiar danger. He pulled up before crashing.
Rather than land, he flew to the faculty section of the stands. He locked eyes with Dumbledore, pointed at the sky, and shouted, "Dementors! Lots of 'em!"
The headmaster stood and drew his wand, eyes scanning the sky for the creatures. This was all Harry needed to see. He turned his broom and dove for the field. If he were going to pass out, he wanted to be as close to the ground as possible.
Upon landing, he looked skyward in time to see a dark cascade of Dementors come pouring down. He raised his wand, but several silvery shapes were already charging into the sky to intercept the swarm. He recognized Dumbledore's phoenix and McGonagall's cat, along with animals and amorphous blobs cast by other members of the crowd.
As the silver protectors met the dark mass, the oncoming surge broke apart, and the Dementors scattered and went swirling about like leaves in the wind. The air shook with the furious, amplified voice of the headmaster, as he ordered the Dementors away.
The Dementors began to drift away, giving the impression of obeying with reluctance.
Harry's eyes found his friends to make sure they were okay. Then he took in the state of the rest of the crowd. The spectators sat huddled on the benches, staring up at the retreating shapes with expressions of fear and misery. Younger students were crying. Students of all ages clutched each other for support and comfort.
Harry's attention fixed on a younger girl in Gryffindor colors, her face streaked with tears. He'd seen her around Gryffindor Tower, but with everything going on with Black and the Dementors, he realized he hadn't even learned the names of the new first-years.
What if she were a Muggle-born? This would be her first memory of Quidditch. He couldn't let the day end like this. Just because he kept finding himself in the middle of one dangerous plot after another, his fellow students didn't need to have their experience of Hogwarts defined by the same terrors.
He'd spent his whole life before Hogwarts learning the hard lesson that the worst thing you could do is stand out for any reason, good or bad. It made you a target. But here in his new life, with all the people who'd called him a symbol of hope to the wizarding world, maybe just this once he could make an exception.
He remounted his broom and flew to the center of the stadium. He waved his arms, then felt rather foolish when he realized he could use his wand as more than a baton. With a flick of his wrist, he fired off a burst of red sparks.
He wished he knew the spell Dumbledore used to project his voice, but decided his next action would speak for itself. He raised the Snitch, so everyone could see it glinting golden in the sunlight which had begun to poke through the clouds after the Dementors withdrew.
The silence continued for another moment, then cheers erupted from all those not dressed in silver and green.
His teammates flew over to grab and embrace him, as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and officially declared Gryffindor's victory.
~*~Back in the common room, the party was in full swing when Harry arrived.
Harry spotted the girl he'd noticed in the crowd earlier. He almost couldn't believe he was seeing the same person, as she chatted merrily with two other girls. She caught him smiling to himself as he watched, which made her blush and look down. This drew her friends' attention to him, and they burst into giggles. Harry looked away.
He jumped as hands landed simultaneously on both his shoulders.
"Yep, that's our Harry, beloved by young and old alike."
"How does he do it, Fred?"
"More to the point, George, is there any way we can claim credit for teaching him the importance of showmanship?"
"Ah, excellent question. You've cut straight to the heart of the matter."
"Knock it off, you two," Ginny said, as she appeared next to Harry. "He didn't do that for himself. He gave people a reason to cheer, right when they needed it. I won't put up with you two mocking him for it."
"Whoa, easy. We come in peace," said the twin who was identifying as Fred at the moment.
"What's more, we come bearing a gift," added the twin representing himself as George, in a lowered voice.
"Hmmm," she said, not impressed. "Both of you are going to eat or drink a sample of whatever this gift is before Harry so much as touches it."
"It's nothing like that," protested the first twin. "It's not even edible."
"I don't know, Fred. Eating parchment might help keep you regular?"
"Perhaps, though it'd be a waste to use this particular piece of parchment to help, er, produce waste."
"True enough. Harry, if we could speak to you somewhere a bit more private…?"
Ginny said, "I assume you meant to ask if you could speak to both of us."
"How did our dear little sister come to have such a distrustful attitude towards her two favorite brothers?" Fred asked, shaking his head mournfully.
"Could someone be running a vicious propaganda campaign to besmirch our good names?" George wondered. "Who would do such a thing?"
"Percy?"
"A likely suspect."
"The cad. Ah, to have a family rent asunder from within," Fred said, laying the back of his hand against his brow. "The tragedy. The pathos."
"Guys," Harry interrupted. "Anything you want to tell me, you can say in front of her."
The twins glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.
"Alright, both of you then."
"The more, the merrier."
"The Gryffindor, the Harry-er."
There was a beat of silence.
"Not my finest work," admitted the twin who'd spoken last.
"Not your finest, no."
"Sorry you had to hear that, Harry. When you're riffing, trying out new material… well, they can't all be gems."
"I'm sure he'll forget all about it, once he sees the gift of inestimable worth we intend to graciously bestow upon him."
"Can we do this already?" Ginny interrupted.
"Ah, yes, right this way."
The four of them made their way out of the common room, the twins leading.
Harry held Ginny back, to let her brothers get ahead of them. "I need a favor."
"Don't worry. I won't let them mess with you."
"Thanks. I need another favor then."
"Okay. What is it?"
"Can you stick close to me for a while? I've got a chill from the Dementors."
She'd been walking with her arm linked through his, but she moved it to around his waist, and pressed herself close to his side.
"Thanks," he murmured, as he put his arm around her in return.
Fred and George were watching from where they'd stopped, just down the corridor at a little hidden nook, which the castle had no shortage of. They seemed ready to comment, until they noticed Harry's somber expression and Ginny's fierce glare.
Ginny asked, "What did you want to tell us?"
George looked at Harry with an unusually sober expression. "When Ron told us about the bum deal you got with the permission slip, we wanted to give you a way to sneak out to Hogsmeade, just on general principle."
Fred said, "The general principle being that you can't know if a rule is a good one until you've put it to the test. After further thought though, even if it pains us to say this–"
"–a pain born of betraying our fundamental natures–"
"–with everything going on, you probably shouldn't be sneaking out on a lark."
"On the other hand," George continued, "between the Dementors and Black, you may not be able to count on being safe inside Hogwarts either. We don't like the idea of you having no way out, and since the front gates aren't an option–Fred, if you'll do the honors?"
Fred drew out a piece of parchment, and tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Ink began crawling across the parchment, forming into lines and words.
"What the fuck?" Ginny cried, stumbling back and dragging Harry with her. She drew her wand and pointed it at the parchment. "Incend–"
"No!" Fred exclaimed. He turned away to shield the parchment with his own body before Ginny could finish her spell.
George stepped between Fred and the point of Ginny's wand. "What are you doing?"
Ginny said, "Harry, run! Tell Dumbledore there's another diary!"
"Wait," pleaded George. "It's not like that. We've been using it for years. It's never tried to make us do anything."
"Think about it," said Fred. "There's no way one of us could be up to something without the other one noticing."
"You're both in on it then. It's got both of you!"
"Ginny, please listen. Last year, we could see you weren't well. We just didn't know what it meant. Percy was sure you had that bad cold that was going around, and we believed it."
"Still sorry about that, by the way."
"Yeah, go figure, the one time we listen to Percy. We swear we learned our lesson."
"What's your point?" she demanded.
"The point is, you would have seen some sign by now, if we weren't in control of ourselves."
"We didn't think about how you'd react. Sorry about that too. But you know us. You'd notice if we started acting differently."
"Er, Ginny?" Harry said.
She glanced at him. "Why are you still here? And why don't you at least have your wand drawn?"
"I didn't want to get in the middle of a family thing."
She huffed in exasperation. "Anyone can be turned against you. If I ever start acting like I'm not myself again, I'm going to be severely disappointed in you if you don't use a cutting curse to gut me like a fucking fish."
The twins winced but kept silent, not wishing to provoke her further.
Harry said, "You know I could never do that. Please try to calm down. Your robes are smoking."
She glanced down and confirmed her clothes had indeed begun smoldering. She gripped her amulet through her robes and took several slow, deep breaths, then lowered her wand. In a calmer voice, she said, "Okay, show me what that thing does."
"You won't burn it?"
"Not without good cause."
"Look, maybe we should forget the whole thing."
"Yeah, not an option. That thing doesn't leave my sight until I'm sure it doesn't contain a teen-aged future mass murderer looking to recruit."
"It's nothing like that. It's a map. The Marauder's Map."
"Uh-huh. It doesn't try to talk to you? Like a person?"
"Well…"
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she said, bringing her wand back up. "Don't trust anything that thinks, if you can't see where it keeps its brain. That's the rule. After last year, how are we not all on the same page here?"
"No pun intended," Fred muttered.
"Don't test me," she warned him.
George said, "It's just jokes and insults. Nothing important."
"Hey! Bite your tongue," objected Fred.
"You know what I mean. Nothing about killing sprees, we swear."
"Show me," Ginny insisted.
"It could be useful for keeping Harry safe. We didn't make it, and we don't know how to make another, so if you burn it…"
"I'll give it a chance. Show me."
They both looked at Ginny's wand, which she grudgingly lowered.
Fred had been watching her over his shoulder. He turned around warily, keeping an eye on her wand. He laid the parchment out on the floor, his hands held ready to snatch it up again if need be.
"It shows the castle, and where everyone is. That's its main purpose. It only writes messages when it's disguised as a piece of scrap parchment. Even then, it's not like having a real conversation."
George picked up the explanation. "When we were trying to figure out how it works, it kept giving us snark. After a while, it started to repeat itself. It doesn't learn or remember anything. It's brilliant magic, but it's less like a real person than even paintings are."
"Most of its best lines are about Snape. It would ask if we knew him, then make snide remarks about his nose or his hair or whatever. That has to mean the good guys made it. Enemies of my enemy and all."
"Enemies? You think more than one person made it?"
"When you activate it, it says it's presented by Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."
"What the hell kind of names are those?"
Both brothers shrugged.
She warned them, "If that turns out to be an anagram for 'Death to Muggle-borns' or some shite like that, I am not going to be happy with the two of you."
Meanwhile, Harry had been watching the moving names in fascination. "This shows the whole castle?"
George said, "Not quite the whole castle. It didn't show Ginny when she went missing."
"We kept checking," Fred confirmed. "All night."
"I almost set the damn thing on fire myself, out of frustration."
Fred put a hand on his twin's shoulder. "It was a rough night. If it hadn't been for Harry and Ron…"
The three Weasleys paused and regarded Harry.
He fidgeted under the attention, and looked down at the map. "This is great, but how does knowing where people are help you get out of Hogwarts?"
Fred told him, "It also shows all the secret passages, along with their passwords. Not just the ones for moving around the castle, either. Some lead outside."
Harry said, "This is amazing. And you're just giving it to me?"
"We've already learned its secrets."
"And you might need it more than we do, if everything goes to hell again this year."
"I don't know what to say," Harry said.
Fred tapped the Map with his wand. "Mischief managed. That's what you say when you're done with it." He gave George a significant look as he said this.
The writing faded, leaving the Map a blank piece of parchment once more. Fred folded it up, then looked at Ginny, as did George and Harry.
"I don't know," she told Harry. "They're right about how useful it could be. It still makes me nervous, but I may not be totally impartial about this sort of thing."
"If you don't trust the Map," said Fred, "you'd better burn every painting in the castle too. Like George said, they're way better conversationalists."
"Not to mention that mouthy mirror we have at home," George added.
"Don't forget the Sorting Hat. Have you ever seen its brain? I haven't."
Ginny held up her hand. "Okay, I get your point."
She turned to Harry. "When they put it like that, it's probably as safe as any of that stuff. I just haven't seen anything like it before, and unique enchantments have a better chance of being dodgy. But like they said, they seem like the same pains-in-the-arse as always, so I don't think anyone else is pulling their strings."
"I don't remember us putting it in quite those words, George."
"No, nor do I. Hearing you're free from possession should be good news. Who would have thought it could be so hurtful?"
"Alas, the slander we must endure."
Harry said, "Okay. I accept. Thank you so much. This is brilliant."
Fred nodded and handed him the Map.
Harry turned to Ginny. "Thanks for looking out for me."
"Someone's got to. You're too busy looking out for everyone else."
Fred told her, "Sorry for springing it on you the way we did."
George added, "We got so caught up in thinking it would be a cool surprise, we didn't stop to think what it might remind you of."
She nodded. "Don't worry about it. You were thinking about helping Harry. That counts for a lot."
"Still your favorite brothers, then?"
"Ahead of Percy at least."
Both twins snorted, and the tension eased.
Having concluded their private business, they returned to the party.
~*~The next morning, Harry and Ginny took Ron and Hermione aside for their own private chat.
Before revealing the Map, Ginny asked, "Can we all agree that Harry's victories over Riddle these past two years had something in common?"
"Like what?" Ron asked.
"No help from teachers. Going to Lockhart actually made things worse."
"Lockhart turned out to be trouble, but a different teacher might have helped," Hermione argued. "What if they'd gone to McGonagall?"
"Like you did with the Philosopher's Stone? She would have dragged them back to the common room, I'd be dead, and Riddle would have a body again."
"You don't know that for sure. Where are you going with this, anyway?"
"There's a pattern. When Harry relies on himself and his friends, he beats Riddle. If he goes to a teacher, they turn out to be useless, dangerous, or both. And Dumbledore is never around when he's needed most."
"Dumbledore and the teachers have driven Dementors away from Harry three times now."
"Dementors working for the Ministry, not for Riddle."
"Besides protecting us on the train, Professor Lupin has been giving you and Harry extra lessons. But he should be the least helpful of all, if you're right about the curse on Defense teachers."
"I'm not sure if he's helping as much as he could be. He's always trying to hold me back."
"For your own safety." Hermione searched her memory for other examples. "Professor Snape stopped Quirrell from hexing Harry off his broom."
"No, you stopped Quirrell by knocking into him."
"That was an accident. I thought I needed to stop Professor Snape."
"Either way, you did it, not Snape."
"Are you suggesting the teachers have some big conspiracy against Harry? If they were, surely they'd have gotten him by now. I'm sorry, Harry, but it's true."
Harry shrugged.
Ginny said, "I'm not talking about a deliberate plot. I'm just saying we need to rely on ourselves as much as possible."
Ron asked, "Why are you bringing all this up now?"
Ginny nodded to Harry, who took out the Marauder's Map, tapped it with his wand, and spoke the password.
Hermione frowned at the vow of ill intent, but was captivated by what the Map could do. The sticking point came when she found out about the secret passages.
"Oh, Harry, you have to turn it in. Those must be how Sirius Black got into the castle."
"Are you mental?" Ron demanded. "Harry gets something this brilliant, and you want to turn it in?"
Ginny jumped in before the two could spin each other up into a full-blown quarrel. "Harry can put this to better use than the teachers would."
Hermione said, "They could use it to catch Black. There's no logical reason not to let them."
"Maybe not a logical reason. Maybe a magical reason."
Hermione blinked. "What does that even mean?"
"There's a connection between Harry and Riddle, which keeps drawing them together, while pushing other people out of the way. The effect seems stronger on adults, but it affects you and Ron too. You tried to help protect the Philosopher's Stone, but the obstacles stopped either of you from making it to the end with him. Then last year, Hermione got petrified–sorry again for that–and the cave-in blocked Ron. Even so, the three of us are the best help Harry is going to get."
"Are you saying Harry has to keep going through stuff like that every year?" Ron demanded. "Sounds like the nonsense Trelawney is always spouting."
Hermione looked conflicted. "That's not the most polite way of putting it, but all this does sound as vague as Divination."
Hermione had been quite vocal on this point. She found Divination hopelessly subjective, especially compared to Arithmancy. The more she learned about the latter, the more she came to appreciate its technical precision.
For their part, Harry and Ron had signed up for Divination after hearing it described as an easy blow-off elective. They were happy to find this to be true, so long as you were willing to bluff your way through with outrageous fabrications, and not look for a solid theoretical basis, as Hermione kept trying to do.
Ginny said, "Okay, think of it this way. The four of us can take turns using the Map to watch the secret entrances as well as the teachers can–better in fact, if I'm right. If we give it to the teachers, whoever has it might start out with the best intentions, but then they'll get distracted, or busy, or called away for some reason."
Hermione said, "Even if we don't turn it in, we should tell the teachers about the secret entrances."
"I thought about that, but they might close them off, and then Harry wouldn't be able to use them."
"Harry shouldn't be sneaking out anyway!"
"Not just for fun," Ginny agreed. "Even Fred and George could see that. They gave it to him in case there's an emergency. It's not just a matter of Black getting in. There's also the Dementors, and Lupin's already inside the castle."
She turned to Harry. "I like Lupin too. He doesn't seem evil. But it might not be his choice to make. He could get possessed. Or he might try to help us, but wind up playing into Riddle's plans, without even meaning to."
Hermione said, "No one can see all the possible consequences of their actions. You just have to try to do the best you can."
"Can you honestly say the headmaster and the teachers have kept Harry safe? Or you for that matter? You got attacked by a troll your first term here, and you weren't even a target. You just got caught up in things by accident."
Hermione considered this. "Alright. I won't turn it in, for now at least."
"Good. As a general rule, the four of us should rely on each other first, teachers second, and then only if we have to. Or adults in general, for that matter. Fudge taking an interest in Harry this summer worries me."
"The Minister kept Harry from getting in trouble over blowing up his aunt, and you're taking that as evidence he's out to get him?"
"Fudge doesn't do anything unless its to his own benefit. He was helpful that time, but you saw what he did to Hagrid."
"Okay, but that just means he's a politician. It doesn't mean he's destined to serve the wishes of Tom Riddle."
"You don't have to believe it," Ginny said, frustration creeping into her voice. "All I'm asking is that if we get our hands on anything useful–an enchanted item, a spell, a piece of information–we should think twice before revealing it to anyone else. You can't deny we have reason to doubt how much help we can expect from the teachers, at the times when it matters most."
Hermione was silent as she thought about it, then said, "I'm not convinced, but I'll agree to that, as long as there's no immediate danger."
"Fair enough," Ginny said. "Ron?"
Rather than answer her, he asked Harry, "Do you believe all this?"
"I don't know. I don't want to, but Ginny has explained this to me before, and it fits with how things tend to go around here."
"Good enough for me. You know I've got your back, teachers or no teachers."
Harry said, "Thanks, mate."
"Sure."
Ginny turned back to Hermione. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to believe it right now. Just keep an open mind."
"I'm still not clear on what you want me to keep an open mind about."
"About how sometimes things happen for magical reasons that don't make much sense in Muggle terms. Even if we don't understand the reasons, we can look for patterns, and use them to figure out what situations to avoid. Or if we decide to take a calculated risk, like getting lessons from Lupin because they're too useful to pass up, we at least know to be careful–because we know the pattern with Defense teachers."
Hermione said, "If I need to calculate any risks, I'd prefer Arithmancy. But I agree not to make up my mind on your theory until I've done some research."
Ron muttered something about Hermione and research, causing her to turn sharply towards him.
"Great!" Harry said quickly, "Glad we agree. How about we head to breakfast?"