The Weasley twins hustled Harry into a secluded corner of the castle.
Seeing how jittery they were, Harry frowned in confusion. "What's going on with you two?"
George fixed him with an uncharacteristically serious look. "No questions. We ask, you answer."
Fred leaned in, voice low and conspiratorial. "Does Professor Holmes have any other pets named Prongs, Moony, or Wormtail?"
The anticipation in their eyes was almost comical. Harry shook his head. "What are you talking about? I've never heard of those."
Before the twins could say more, a voice they all loathed rang out: "What are you lot up to? Footprints everywhere, mud all over—"
At the sound of Filch's grumbling, the three bolted, weaving through corridors until they finally reached the Gryffindor common room—safely out of earshot.
Once they'd caught their breath, George and Fred turned to Harry. "Stay put. Don't go wandering off," George said. "We'll be right back," Fred added, and they dashed off toward the dormitory.
Harry opened his mouth, bemused. It was the boys' dormitory, not the girls'—what was the point of making him wait here?
Upstairs, the twins dug out the Marauder's Map.
"Sigh, looks like it's time to hand it over," George said. "Good thing we've memorized all the secret passages," Fred replied.
George let out a long breath. "During the match, I wondered why the Professor suddenly started patting that dog's head."
Fred frowned, thinking back. "Was he patting it? When I flew by, he was definitely giving it a good scratch."
At first, neither had thought much of it. But when Harry mentioned the dog's name was Padfoot, a lightbulb went off. Maybe this was Douglas's way of hinting they should pass the Marauder's Map to Harry.
After all, when they'd first got their hands on the map, they'd noticed something odd: the name Douglas Holmes never showed up, as if he didn't exist within its magic. That had made them suspect he might actually be the map's creator.
Later, they realized the Defence Against the Dark Arts office had also vanished from the map. No matter who entered, that room never displayed anyone's name. Yet before, they'd always been able to see inside.
With Harry's revelation about the dog, their suspicions were all but confirmed. The map must have been made by Douglas. And now, it was time to hand it to the person closest to its presumed creator.
Of course, that wasn't going to be easy...
After some hurried preparations, the twins called Harry—who was reading alone—up to their dormitory.
Harry looked slightly put out. "Can you just spit it out? I want to take a shower."
Fred winked, his voice full of mischief. "Patience, mate. We've got a present for you."
George grinned as he pulled a large, battered square of parchment from under his pillow. "An early Christmas gift."
Harry eyed the worn parchment warily, instinctively taking a step back. Experience had taught him: whenever the twins brought out something odd, it was safest to keep his distance. There was no telling what would happen next.
The twins just chuckled at his caution. "Don't you want to know how we've managed so many midnight adventures without ever getting caught?" George teased.
"Poor Mr. Filch, he—" Fred started.
Harry cut in, helpfully, "You two got caught by my uncle the first week of last year."
"Er—" That took the wind out of their sails. The twins exchanged a look and sighed.
But then their gaze fell on a small wooden box on the table, and their spirits lifted again.
"That's not important," George insisted. "What matters is, we've had plenty of successful runs—"
"You can't deny that, Harry!" Fred added.
Harry nodded, seeing how serious they suddenly were. "Alright, so what's this about?"
With the tenderness of a lover, George stroked the parchment. "This—this is the secret to our success."
Fred looked at the map with genuine reluctance. "We've decided it's time to pass it on to you."
Harry frowned. "Didn't you just say it was a Christmas present? And what am I supposed to do with a piece of old parchment?"
Fred clutched his chest dramatically, as if mortally wounded. "A piece of old parchment! Oh, Merlin's stinky socks—explain it to him, George!"
George pulled a face at Harry, then launched into his tale. "It's a long story. Back when we were first-years—young, carefree, innocent—"
"Pfft!" Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, barely stifling his laughter. Innocent? The twins? Maybe during their time in the Dark Arts office, but as first-years? Not a chance.
"Sorry, I didn't mean—ha, innocent—cough!"
The twins kept straight faces, forcing Harry to rein in his giggles.
"Yes, we were more innocent then than now—no, wait, we're still innocent. Fred, I can hardly remember what a good prank feels like!"
Fred threw his arms around his brother, thumping him on the back. "Me neither!"
Watching them clown around, Harry couldn't hold back and burst out laughing again.
After a moment, their moods settled, and the twins resumed their pitch.
"Back then, we had a bit of a run-in with Filch," George began.
"All we did was accidentally set off a Dungbomb in the corridor. He's so narrow-minded…" Fred added.
"He dragged us into his office and threatened us with all his favorite lines—" "Detention!" "Disembowelment!" "Hanging us up by our ankles!"
"And then, well, we got a little distracted…" "Our eyes happened to land on a cabinet drawer labeled 'Confiscated and Highly Dangerous'…"
Harry looked at the old parchment again, realization dawning. "Don't tell me…"
"Exactly!" Fred crowed. "You guessed it! George lobbed another Dungbomb to distract him, and I snatched this out of the drawer—"
The twins exchanged another glance, this time tinged with nostalgia and a hint of melancholy.
They'd often wondered if Professor Holmes had left the map there on purpose, waiting for a worthy successor to find it. After reclaiming the Marauder's Map from Douglas, they'd even considered passing it down the same way.
But with Hogwarts' new punishment system, anyone Filch caught would be sent straight to Professor Lupin for detention—no chance to sneak back into Filch's office. And, to be honest, they didn't dare risk breaking into Filch's room anymore—not with Douglas still at Hogwarts. They had no desire to spend next term in perpetual detention.
Thinking of all this, the twins lost interest in teasing Harry further.
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