Chapter Six: Enter the Marauders—The Best People In the World
Harish pulled their prize out of his pocket to examine. It was a thick, folded piece of parchment. Fred and George peered at it beside Harish, wondering how to make it work.
"Hey!" Fred exclaimed suddenly, "Dad always says something specific—"
"When he works with stuff like this! Yeah! Great going Fred!" he nodded to the parchment. "You can do the honours."
"I, Fred Weasley, would like you to reveal your mechanics."
"Mr Moony does not hand out valuable information so freely."
The three of them sighed in disappointment, before more words scrawled across the page.
"Mr Prongs concurs with that notion and would like to propose a test."
"Mr Padfoot would like to know what the number one rule is for pranksters."
"And Mr Wormtail would like to know where Mr Weasley's loyalties lie."
The boys sat for a moment in silence pondering their 'quiz'. Finally, after a couple of seconds, George suggested, "To cause mayhem?"
"To get revenge," Fred listed.
"To get up to no good in every way!" Harish exclaimed.
"Hmmm," Fred hummed looking at the second question. "My loyalties lie to myself and my mischief."
"You can list them Harish!" Fred and George announced together.
"Okay," Harish put his wand to the paper. "Harish Blake, Fred Weasley, and George Weasley say that our loyalties lie to ourselves and our mischief, and the number one rule of any prankster is to cause mayhem, get revenge, and to get up to no good in every way."
The words instantly disappeared and new script formed on the page: Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder's Map.
Underneath it I solemnly swear that I am up to no good appeared and as soon as they read it, it vanished again.
Under where the passcode had been the words Mischief Managed appeared and disappeared in the same fashion.
They unfolded the parchment to see a large map of Hogwarts. Soon the boys were on a bed, ogling at the map. "Wow look!" George exclaimed pointing at their dormitory. "It even show us on the map! See look. Fred Weasley, George Weasley, and… What is that?"
"Huh?" Fred asked as Harish said, "What's the matter?"
"Look," George said, pointing at their dormitory on the map. "We're the only three in here. It has Fred and I labelled, but it just has a blob where you are."
Harish squinted at the map, "That blob looks like two names on top of each other."
"Maybe you're sitting on someone invisible," Fred said with a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Yeah, walk around some or something," George said.
Harish got up and walked around the room, feeling slightly foolish. When he sat back down Fred said, "Nope. It—"
"Still looked like that while you were moving."
Harish grunted and narrowed his eyes, trying to read what it said.
"I can make out Harish, but why is it on top of another name?" Harish asked.
"I can tell that the first letter in the other last name is a 'P'," George said.
"If you lean back like this," Fred said, "and tilt your head to the side a little, it looks kind of like it says Haisly Pinklace."
Harish snorted in laughter. George, however, leaned back and said "Yeah, it kind of does. I can certainly pick out an 'h' a 'y' and a 'p'."
"Maybe we should just ask the map," Harish suggested.
"How are we supposed to do that? Oh, map, can you explain the blob on my friend's name?" George asked mimicking a girly, confused tone.
"Or we could somehow get it to show us the codes for the map." Fred said, suppressing laughter.
"Yeah," Harish said, remembering a book he had read earlier that summer, "Things like this…they have to have a base or a foundation. That would be the individual spells they use to make it do all of this. Then, there would be the structure, which would be every room, every hallway, and every name."
"That sounds really complicated…How would we find one name?"
"Locating spells," Harish said in a dismissive tone.
Suddenly Adrian Pucey, Marcus Belby, Terrance Higgs, and Hubert Warrington entered the dormitory, ending their little pow-wow. Harish and the others just decided (quietly; as Harish stuffed the map under his pillow) that if they wanted to find Harish, they'd just look for the 'blob' and would stop puzzling over it for now. George figured that it would make him easier to find.
THE-BLOB—DUN-DUN-DUN!
Voldemort had had a week just as interesting as the boys. He had roused his Death Eaters that were working in the ministry. Nearly all of them had a heart-attack when he introduced himself. Some of them even accused him of being an imposter. Voldemort had to crucio some of them to get them to listen to him (which he didn't want to have to resort to doing, but it made them follow him more willingly).After that, Lucius arrived and backed him up, saying that he was the first Voldemort contacted, and how Voldemort had gone into hiding to lull the public into a false sense of security.
Then, 'Anata Blake' got that letter from Dumbledore. Dumbledore had asked politely how Harish had gotten a hold of the vault, but Voldemort wasn't about to tell that two-faced old man.
All he replied in return was, "He is the heir of the house of Potter". He was satisfied to know that he had not only aggravated Dumbledore, but he had outsmarted him as well. The old man still couldn't figure out who Harish really was, not even to mention figuring out the fake backstory Voldemort had set up. He felt really accomplished.
VOLDIE-SMIRKS—Mwah-HA-HA!
Harish sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked around the partially dark room. Dark blue light was shimmering on the walls. Judging by the lack of light, he figured that the sun hadn't quite risen yet. He pulled on a bed-robe and left the dungeons for the Owlry. Maybe he'd be able to coax an owl down, so that he could write a letter to his father. Normally they avoided him because of Isis, and only occasionally let him attach a letter to their leg.
He looked out over the grounds. Every day it was getting slightly cooler, and Halloween was approaching fast. He couldn't wait for the feast. He had often heard stories about it from Fred and George.
"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed, waving a treat in front of an owl's nose. "She won't eat you! All I want to do is mail a letter to my father!" but the owl remained resolute, so he sighed and slunk out, heading for the dungeons.
As he rounded a corner, the twins jumped out from behind a suit of armour yelling, "Hello mate!"
Harish shrieked in surprise. After he recovered, he punched the two giggling morons. "Don't do that!" then he glanced at what they were holding; it was the Marauders Map. "Plus, it's rude to stalk people."
"Oh, and you—"
"Would know all about that—"
"Wouldn't you? Mr—"
"Manners expert."
Harish sighed, "Yes, I would. I grew up being taught simple manners. Something you two lack."
"Yeah, we ditched manners—"
"A long time ago."
"You know?"
"We've been thinking—"
"That we should plan a nice big prank for Halloween."
"It's only a week away—"
"So we should get—"
"Started."
BEWARE—CREEPY-AMBUSHES
The trio were consulting the Map about how to get into the kitchens. Upon seeing his little figure on the map tickle the pear in the painting, Fred walked forward and tickled the pear. It giggled and hardened into a handle. George pulled on the handle and opened the door.
They were greeted by a fairly large room that was warm and glittering. Hanging from the ceiling were shiny bronze pots and pans. In the corner, a merry fire was crackling. As they entered the room, they were nearly smothered by a great tidal wave of house elves.
Each one was wearing a neat, white towel around their waist. They came, swarming up offering them cakes and candies. Harish even saw one house elf brandishing a silver platter with a whole turkey on it.
"Leave it to me," Harish whispered to the twins. "I know how to handle these guys."
Harish then stepped forward, flashing a brilliant smile at the elves. "Hello, um—My friends and I wanted to come here to thank you for all of your hard work. The food is delicious and we find that all of our rooms are spotless."
The elves started falling over one another shouting "Thank you sir" and "You're welcome sir".
The twins caught on and George said, "Yeah, the other day I err—went into the bathroom, and the whole place was so spotless, I could see my reflection on the toilet."
"Lovely," Fred said sarcastically.
Harish shot them a look before continuing, "We just wanted to ask one teensy favour—" he paused to let the elves ramble "Anything you want sir!" and "We would for you sir!" before saying, "Well, we wanted to plan something special for our friends on Halloween. Could you please not pick up the Great Hall until right before the Halloween Feast tomorrow?" he asked, feigning boyish pleading and politeness. It of course worked, and the three of them stuffed their pockets with the last sweets, and exited the Kitchens hearing "We will do that sir!" and "Come back soon sir!" from the elves. Harish was satisfied that their prank to tomorrow would go very well.
WHAT-DOES-THE-ELF-SAY—I-LOVE-I-LOVE-I-LOVE-YOU
"Happy Halloween everybody!" Fred and George yelled blowing foghorns.
All of the boys sat up, grumbling.
"What's with the foghorns?" Adrian grumbled, laying back down and squashing his pillow over his ears.
"Yeah, why are you waking us up at five in the morning?" Marcus asked bluntly.
"Because, little children," Fred said, causing a round of more grumbling from the other boys in their year.
"Halloween is the best pranking holiday—"
"Next to April Fool's Day of course."
"That one's the absolute best, because it's our birthday!"
Harish smirked as he watched the other boys in their dormitory. This was definitely not all they had planned for today and the others should just get used to being pranked.
They all walked down to the Great Hall together, and when the other boys saw it, they just gave up, knowing that this would be a very long day.
There were purple, orange, and black streamers everywhere. They were almost completely covering the walls, there were some that had fallen onto the tables and floors, and there were even streamers hanging from the floating candles. If a student stepped on a certain brick on the floor in between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, it would start singing, or shouting things about Halloween.
In History of Magic, instead of textbooks, the twins put The History of All Hallows Eve on every desk. Harish, with the help of the others, filled the classrooms with bats. Then, when it was time for the feast, everything magically disappeared, and all of the students went down to the Great Hall to enjoy a magnificent feast. The trio had the most wonderful day, and they had already begun planning to top this performance next year.
FUN-FUN—APPLE-BUN
It was now late November and everyone were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast. Harish was sitting in the middle of the first years flanked by the ever present Fred and George. They were all eating and watching the owls swoop in and deliver the mail. Fred and George had received letters and parcels from their mum.
Harish certainly hadn't been expecting his father to send him anything, and he was surprised to see a large smoky coloured owl land elegantly in front of him and stick out it's leg. "Hey, Augustus," he said to his father's owl, feeding it a bit of bacon. He took the letter from him and watched the owl fly off.
He had sent a letter to his father asking him if he go to the Weasleys' for the holidays. He hadn't really expected his father to say yes, but he unrolled the letter anyway and started reading.
Dear Harish,
I am happy to say that I would love for you to go over to your friends' house. I think it would be a wonderful experience for you. I will have the people I work with popping into the manor all throughout the holidays, and I don't think you'd like to be around a boring group of adults all Christmas time. They are grumpy no-nonsense kind of people, and I think it would be best for you to stay at your friends' house the first week and then come home to celebrate Christmas with me.
From your very busy father,
Anata Blake
"Hey guys," Harish said, "it looks like I'll be able to come over to your house for the holidays.
"Really?" Fred asked, surprised.
"That's great!" George exclaimed, and the two on them started babbling on about how the first thing they were going to do was to play Quidditch.
Harish let their conversation wash over him as he remembered the first time he had ever flown. It had been wonderful!
"Father, can I get flying lessons with Draco? Pleease?" eight-year-old Harish had asked Voldemort, he and Draco sporting wonderfully crafted puppy eyes.
His father had been about to say something, when Malfoy Sr. had walked up. "Oh, let the boy have some fun!" he had said, but Harish had noticed that the man had stayed an arm's length away from his father. Everyone knew what a temper he could get.
"Yes, you can go play Quidditch with Draco."
"Yes!" Harish and Draco shouted, before running off to Draco's tutor.
"Harish's father said that he could take the lessons!" Draco exclaimed.
"That's wonderful! Now Harish, you need to grip the broom like this. The grip is important…"
But Harish wasn't listening. As he swung onto the broom, it felt as if something inside him knew exactly what to do. He kicked off and was greeted by the most wonderful sensation. The wind tossed his hair about and he knew that this was where he belonged. He zipped all about the stadium, and he was in the process of doing a loop, when he felt something escape from his pocket. He watched helplessly as his favourite blue pen hurtled towards the ground.
Not even thinking, he dove after it, the wind whistling in his ears as he sped up. He felt his hand grasp around it and he levelled out his broom, just before he could have crashed. Then he landed gently and trotted back over to where the instructor was standing dumbstruck.
"Why, you're a natural! I've never seen quite a dive performed by an eight-year-old! You should go for Seeker! That was amazing!"
Harish blushed on the outside, but on the inside he smirked. Of course it was perfect. He was perfect and they should expect nothing less than that.
"Harish, come on!" one of the twins said rousing him from his thoughts.
"Okay," and he was led along to their classes. He was looking forward to the break. He loved playing Quidditch and wouldn't mind meeting the rest of their family.
HARISH-CAN'T-DENY-HIS-REAL-FATHER'S-GENES—QUIDDITCH-GENIUS!
Time passed unreasonably slow for the trio of pranksters. They got a few pranks in, each one becoming more festive than the last. They trudged through their school work. Every day the load of work got larger. Finally, there were only two weeks left until the holidays. Then, one week. Then five days. Four days, three, two one.