Growing Up

Part 62.

Harry groaned and fell onto Remus and Sirius' bed despairingly. He didn't want to go to his cousin's house for his own birthday, why would he want to spend it with someone he didn't even know? A pang of anger jolted through him as he sat up and frowned. He wasn't going to take a shower, he just wanted to lay in the giant bed.

Looking around in plain curiosity, a loud sound to his right startled him. A drawer flew open at him almost furiously.

Harry could hear the drawer calling him somehow. Not literally, of course, but he could feel something in him longing to see what was inside.

He would've been startled by this odd occurance if it didn't happen all the time. He could make a lightbulb burn out with a single tear. He was upset, and that probably triggered some kind of energy, maybe? He wasn't sure why it happened.

He walked over to it and peered inside, his two index fingers grasping onto the drawer for leverage.

It was empty except for one piece of paper. It looked dirty, and it was ripped and worn in the corners.

Harry picked up the paper and smiled. It had some sort of glow to it, again he wasn't sure. He knew it was magical, as almost everything was.

He also knew you needed a wand to do anything, other than wandless magic which he could definitely not do.

He ran to the bed and swiped a light colored wand off the bedside table. It was Moony's, he thought, Padfoot had a darker wand.

Harry held the paper in front of him and took a deep breathe, pushing it out sharply. He put the tip of the wand to the paper and flinched. He didn't want to be too disappointed when it didn't do anything.

Bursts of ink shot from the center of the page to form words. Harry laughed at the sight but quickly quieted himself to avoid any attention.

"Mar-awe-ders." He paused.

"Mar- Marauders Map?" He finally sounded out the long word that he had never seen before. Although he had no clue what it meant, he could only wonder what Padfoot and Moony had to do with it.

He opened the crinkled parchment carefully as it unfolded in his hands. It was much bigger than he had anticipated and adjusted his grip to see the whole thing.

It was one of the most intricate and intense drawings he had ever seen in his life. He stared in awe at the design of a mere familiar place blooming throughout the paper.

Mr Moony welcomes little Mr Potter to his most prized possession.

"Moony?" Harry whispered. He squinted his eyes at the paper to make sure what he was reading was correct.

Mr Padfoot should add that little Mr potter must be prepared for what he should discover. Curiosity killed the rat.

Mr Prongs would like to proudly introduce himself to his little Marauderette who might perhaps be the best thing he has ever seen.

Mr Wormtail would like to tell Mr Padfoot to shove off, and to ask the circumstance in which little Mr Potter has found our map and gotten into it?

Harry slammed the parchment shut and heaved wearily. What did he just get himself into? How would he explain what he found?

More importantly, who is Prongs?

Harry paused and then almost laughed at himself. Prongs was his father, of course. He had to keep that giant map, how could they keep this from him?

A bigger question that dominated his thoughts; who was Wormtail?

"Hey, Bambi?" The doorknob started to turn.

Harry shoved the parchment in his back pocket of his trousers and pushed a smile through his teeth as he watched the door creak open.

Sirius' eyes peeked through the side of the door and his jet black whisps of hair accompanied. "You alright? I know you're upset, but-"

"All's well, thanks Padfoot."

His eyebrows drawn together, he stayed for a moment watching him. One eyebrow lifted and fell, then he was gone.

Harry feverishly pulled the paper back out and opened it again. His fingers marked the page a translucent color with sweat.

"Dad?" Harry called quietly. "Is this actually you?"

Mr Moony suggests that Harry return the paper to its rightful owner(s).

"No!" he cried. "They should've told me. You should've told me."

The paper was blank for a moment until the letters slowly started to etch themselves smoothly into the paper.

Mr Prongs loves and is unconditionally proud of his little Marauderette, but would have to agree with Mr Moony.

Harry looked away from the paper and started to prowl around the room. He had to talk to his dad, nobody was going to stop that. He had to know what happened, he was getting excessively tired of hearing Padfoot and Moony dodge the subject.

He closed the paper, ashamed to be so angry, and put it in his pocket. He didn't question how this peculiar map functioned, nor did he ponder the fact that his family was speaking to him through a piece of paper; all he wanted to know is why it looked so familiar.

Unbeknownst to him, Harry would end up holding onto this map for longer than he expected.