"My precious kitty, what've you found?"
Filch's wheezy, panting voice echoed from outside.
Mrs. Norris let out a sharp yowl, and the sound of one man and one cat grew closer.
"Sniff around, they're definitely hiding somewhere nearby."
"Meow!"
The piercing screech was practically in their ears.
Mrs. Norris was separated from Leon and the twins by nothing but a thin layer of stone.
Leon held his breath, listening intently to the noises outside.
Suddenly, either George or Fred gave him a hard shove.
Caught off balance, Leon tipped sideways—not onto hard ground, but sliding downward.
Sliding?
Leon hadn't expected this statue to hide a secret passage.
The three of them slid one after another for quite a distance before landing on a gravel-covered floor.
"Lumos!"
One of the Weasley twins raised his wand, casting light.
Leon stood, looking around. They were in a narrow tunnel. Behind them was a stone slide, and ahead, a winding, shadowy path.
Leon knew exactly where they were.
This was one of Hogwarts' secret passages leading to Hogsmeade, with its exit in the cellar of Honeydukes.
"No worries, Filch can't get in," George said.
"Hmph, the entrance to this passage needs a spell to open, so…" Fred started, reaching into his pocket for something before pausing.
"Passage?" Leon played dumb. "Where's it go?"
George and Fred exchanged a glance over Leon's head. One of them said, "This is one of our secrets for running wild and free—"
"—one of many," the other added. "And we'll let you in on it…"
"Because Gryffindor's pranking legacy must be passed down."
The twins flanked Leon, each slinging an arm around his shoulders, pinning him in place.
"Leon, oh, Leon," Fred said, mimicking Lockhart's dramatic tone, flashing a toothy grin. But his face wasn't as practiced as the professor's, and the smile looked welded on—creepy yet hilarious.
"Young man, we believe you're a promising talent," George said.
"So…" Fred continued.
"Alright, spit it out. What do you want from me?" Leon cut in, sensing they'd been building up to something.
"Wow, sharp one, aren't you? Fine, it's not a big deal. We got some news from Ginny," George said.
"Stop beating around the bush, George," Fred interjected. "This passage leads to Hogsmeade. Filch doesn't know about it. We sneak out to the village sometimes, pick up stuff for people, make a bit of pocket money. You get it."
Fred winked at Leon.
"Yeah, the prank business is grand and fun, but it burns through Galleons," George sighed.
"So, we were wondering," Fred said, "is the club still hiring? Got any jobs for us?"
Both twins looked at Leon expectantly.
Leon thought fast. The Weasley twins were only in their fourth year, not yet crafting their own prank products. Why? Lack of skill and, more crucially, lack of funds.
But with Leon as their perfect angel investor and creative partner? Forget a single Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes shop—they could go global.
"There's work, sure," Leon said, glancing between them. "But why work for someone else? Why not start your own business, make some cool prank gadgets? Working for others is a waste of your talent!"
The twins exchanged another quick look. "Mate, tell us more," George said.
Leon hadn't realized they hadn't yet considered entrepreneurship. Poverty must've limited their imagination.
He slung his arms around their shoulders, laying it out: "Here's the deal. In all of Hogwarts, if Peeves is the top prankster, you two are a close second. You've got the drive and the creativity. Honestly, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade have the same old joke shops selling the same tired tricks. People are bored. Fred, George, I bet your heads are bursting with ideas. Why not turn those into real products? Early stuff might be rough—use it yourselves. Refine it, sell it around school. You'd make money and have fun. Win-win!"
The twins shared a third glance.
George spoke up: "We've thought about it. Like you said, some of those old gadgets are dull as dishwater."
Fred nodded, unusually serious. "But with what we know now, we can only tweak things. Starting from scratch is tough. That's solvable, though…"
"The real problem," George shrugged, "is Galleons."
Leon clapped their shoulders, raising an eyebrow. "Well, isn't that convenient? I've got Galleons to spare! Let's team up—I'll fund it, you bring the ideas and elbow grease. We'll make it big!"
Fred and George didn't look at each other this time.
"That's a bit hasty, isn't it?" George teased. "You might be loaded, Leon, but you can't just throw money around."
"What're you on about? The guy trusts us—that means he knows quality," Fred said, smacking Leon's back. "Worthy successor to the prank throne!"
The three locked eyes, huddled close, arms over shoulders, and shouted in unison: "For the great cause of pranks!"
Kindred spirits always click, and their identical rallying cry proved it. For the twins, this was normal—they were twins, after all. But today, they'd found someone on their wavelength, like they'd become triplets. It was thrilling.
After shouting, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Hey, laughing this loud—won't it draw Filch?" Leon asked.
"Nah, he can't get in. He'll just stew outside," George said.
"Worst case, we hide out in Hogsmeade," Fred added.
"Our scheming's probably louder than our laughs. Why not just crash at my place in Ireland?" Leon grinned.
"Hahaha!"
Finally calming down, Fred wiped tears from his eyes and pulled a square, weathered piece of parchment from his pocket. He tapped it lightly.
"Alright, enough joking. Let's see where Filch and his precious cat are."
Fred touched his wand to the parchment and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Under the faint glow of George's wand, the parchment transformed. Ink lines spread from Fred's wand tip, weaving like a spider's web, intersecting and filling the page.
At the top, green words appeared:
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
Proudly Present
The Marauder's Map
Anyone familiar with Hogwarts could see it mapped the castle and grounds in intricate detail. Even more astonishing were the tiny, labeled black dots moving across it.
Fred held the map closer to the light, squinting. "Filch and Mrs. Norris are on the third floor. The fourth-floor corridor's clear—we can head out."
George noticed Leon's jaw drop and, grinning, shoved the map into his hands. "Pretty cool, right? This is our baby. Let's get out, and you can study it in better light."
Leon clutched the Marauder's Map, putting on an awestruck expression. "Merlin's massive schnoz! This is incredible! Is that Gryffindor Tower? I see Dean Thomas' name—he's still in the dorm with…"
Leon leaned closer, slowly reading an unfamiliar name. "P-Peter… Pettigrew? Who's that? Some Gryffindor upperclassman I haven't met?"