Right twin tapped the side of the desk. "Anything?"
"Anything within my means that I deem to be of equal value to the information I'm requesting."
Left twin grinned. "Well, you are a child of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. How's your pocket money looking?"
His heart leapt. "You want, money? What for?"
"That's our business, little Slytherin Harry."
"I just want to get an idea of how much you need."
The two looked at each other. "We're thinking maybe one galleon every other month."
Oh Merlin help him. He slammed his hands on the desk. "I'm writing you a damned blank check here! You set up a man-in-the-middle-attack in a well hidden secret passageway to break a way into the restricted section of the Hogwarts Library with rubbish most would throw away. What could two people like you possibly be doing of value that can be achieved on two and an eighth sickles a week?"
Right twin opened his mouth to protest.
Harry held up his hand. "Stop. Just stop." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his shrunk trunk, opened it, stepped inside, and closed the lid behind him. He counted out twenty-five galleons and dumped them into a small Gringotts bag.
When he opened the trunk lid and poked his head out, the twins were still sat there, watching him with a strange look on their twin faces.
"What?"
"Nothing, little Slytherin Harry-"
"-Just some massive déjà vu."
"Yeah, well. Here." He climbed out and handed over the bag. "Twenty-five galleons. Come to me when you need more."
The twins looked stunned.
"If you're not back in a month for more, I'm warning you, I will chase you both down, and force it on you."
They nodded, mutely.
"Now. Tell me how you found me!"
Right twin reached into his robes and pulled out a roll of parchment.
Five minutes later, Harry drooled. If Wormtail had ever thought to mention this to Voldemort, the Dark Lord would have turned the castle inside out looking for it.
"Yep," said the twin Harry could now see was Fred, pointing proudly to some of the more interesting areas. "This baby is a masterpiece. We've already memorised many of the secret passageways on it, but we've still got a ways to go. Why, I remember one time…"
Harry drummed the desk with his fingers. This wouldn't classify as a Potter heirloom, not unless you went by goblin law, but it was technically his birthright. The problem with that was that it was John's too and even Alex's. In fact, Alex had more claim over it than he or John… Hmmm…. Certainly something to think about, that.
He refocused on the map. He could see the room he and the twins were standing in clearly. Three small dots labelled Fred and George Weasley and Harry Potter. Thank Merlin he'd found out about this now. If he'd ever met the twins as Lord Slytherin while the map showed Harry Potter, it could have been… bad.
It was also clear the map took it's readings from the Hogwarts wards - wards that he could control. He glanced sideways at the twins, still expounding on their story. How trustworthy were they? Was the money enough to keep them with him or did he need more? This map threw up so many questions. Had they seen Hermione and Daphne going about their business on the third floor? Had they spotted him disappearing in one part of the map and reappearing in another? The map didn't show parseltongue only secret passageways. And even now, he could see a dot with a duel label of Quirinus Quirrell and Tom Riddle pacing a far flung study.
And what could he achieve if he had regular access to this thing? The possibilities were incredible.
He needed something to bring these two closer. The money was a good start, especially if they became dependent on it, but he needed something else, something more. He racked his brain while the twins rattled on about all the pranking feats they'd pulled off with this ultimate weapon against the fog of war.
What did he know about them? What did he have that they might want? They were ambitious. They loved pranks. They didn't care much for rules. They seemed to revel in pulling off things that people their age shouldn't be able to. They didn't care much for academic work. And yet, they were diligent in their own projects, if what they said about their independent occlumency practise was true.
"And that's when we bolted around the corner, just as filch comes around the-"
"-Do you want to be animagi?" he blurted out.
They stared at him.
"Well?"
Fred furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"
Harry gave him a look. "Yes. I'm damn serious. Well, are you interested, yes or no?"
George frowned. "We already looked into being animagi a long time ago."
"Yeah," continued Fred, "decided it wasn't worth it. Takes far too long."
"Suppose I had a shortcut?"
They stared at him again.
"Especially for diligent pranksters who've been working on their occlumency like good little boys?"
"Oi!" George mock punched him on the shoulder.
Fred looked pensive. "How much of a shortcut?"
"Twenty to one hundred hours of work this year, depending on how good your occlumency actually is, and 150 hours next year."
George whistled. "That's a lot faster than the two thousand hours the books say."
"Yep. Target of full transformation by next Christmas."
Fred gave him a half-lidded look. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Never mind that. Are you in?"
The twins looked at each other.
"We're in."
"We're in."
"Excellent."