A/N: Alright. So this fic is totally random and it isn't going to be the length of a novel like Don't Panic, or even a novella like I Am Not My Father. At least, I hope not. It was inspired by wishing there was something much more productive Gryffindor could do on Pottermore to keep Slytherin from kicking everyone's ass on Pottermore.

Chapter 1 - The Map

I walked into the Great Hall in a foul mood. I sat down at the Gryffindor table and proceeded to scowl angrily at the toast in front of me. I grabbed an empty mug and a pitcher of coffee and kept scowling.

"Why the frowny face, lion cub?"

I looked up to see James Potter, Fred Weasley, and Frank Longbottom sit down across from me.

"You lot do realise that I'm now a fifth year and not a 'cub,' right?" I asked.

"Your age is entirely irrelevant to your newbie status," Frank informed him.

"It's mostly because you're the first Gryffy-wyffy in your family," James continued.

"Pretty much ever," Fred added. "So, until there's a second generation of red and gold blooded Malfoys, you will be a lion cub."

"That's wonderful," I muttered grumpily. "Would you lot piss off now please? I'm trying to drink my breakfast in peace."

"Sorry, no," James said. "We're worried about you."

"That's nice," I replied. "Did the worry start before or after I got the shit beat out of me with a Beaters' bat when we played Slytherin last week?"

The three exchanged conferential looks.

"About the same time," Fred concluded.

"See, we think it's about high time you start to get back at the fuckers for their five year long grudge match against you," Frank said, nodding enthusiastically.

"As such, we have a gift for you," James said. "Come with us."

The three stood up and headed for the door. I grabbed my coffee and my bag and followed them into the entrance hall. They ducked into an abandoned classroom and beckoned me inside. Internally, I debated whether or not I was about to get pranked within an inch of my not very worthwhile life. Externally, I simply walked into the room.

"Right," James said, pulling out a battered piece of parchment from his bag. "So, way back something disgusting like fifty years ago when my grandparents went to school here, my granddad on my dad's side helped make this map."

"Then it got confiscated by some cretin named Filch who used to be the caretaker," Fred continued. "Some squib git with a really creepy cat. At least as my dad tells it. Anyways, my dad and my uncle Fred stole it back from Filch the cretin."

"But then when my dad was a third year, they gave it to him because he was being all down on his luck and everyone thought his godfather was trying to kill him. It was all very dark or something," James said.

"Naturally, James here nicked it off his dad's desk a few years ago and we've been running around with it ever since," Frank added.

"I didn't nick it," James insisted. "I borrowed it."

"With no intention of returning it," Frank reminded him. "Anyway, we conferenced and decided it was about time it got passed on to someone who could use it, even if it was to a goody-two-shoes lion cub such as yourself."

I blinked. "You lot do realise you're talking about a blank piece of parchment, right?"

Fred, James, and Frank rolled their eyes and glanced at the parchment. Together they pulled out their wands and tapped the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," they whispered in unison. Immediately, a spiralling spider web of ink spread from the tips of their wands across the parchment, outlining rooms and stairs and levels and passageways I knew did not exist. Then dots started appearing with banners over them stating things like "M. McGonagall" and "A. Potter."

"What is that?" I asked.

"Scorpius, mate, this is the Marauders' Map," Fred said with an air of reverence most people used for things like free Quidditch World Cup tickets.

"This is gold," James said, holding up the map. "One hundred percent galleon grade gold."

"So what?" I asked. "Great, I have a map of the school. How is that supposed to help me get back at the Slytherins who've been trying to make my life miserable for the past five years?"

"Because it's a map with all the secret passages, all the hidden stairwells, all the entrances into and out of the school, and all of the people. In real time," Frank said. "You'll always know where your targets are and how to avoid the professors."

"Is this how you idiots have got around without getting caught?" I asked, taking the parchment warily. I scanned it. "Hey, look. It's us."

Four dots were clustered in an abandoned classroom on the first floor labelled "S. Malfoy," "J. Potter," "F. Longbottom," and "F. Weasley."

Directly outside the door, however, was a dot labelled "E. MacMillan."

"Erm, guys," I said slowly. Before I could get farther than that, however, the door opened to reveal Professor MacMillan, the charms professor.

"Scorpius, what are you doing with these three?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Erm…" I said, trying to hide the map. If it was frequently confiscated, I didn't want it to go anywhere now.

"Nothing," James said. "He had nothing to do with our schemes."

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Mischief managed long before Scorpius got here."

"Right," Professor MacMillan said. "I trust the three of you realise you're going to have detention now."

"Yes, sir," Frank agreed. "Any chance you could not write my mum about it?"

"That will be entirely up to your father," Professor MacMillan said.

"Damn," Frank said. "Right. Well, see you later Scorpius."

"Later, mate," Fred agreed, clapping me on the shoulder and leaving the room, followed closely by James, Frank, and Professor MacMillan.

I sat down on one of the desks and tried to process my day so far. It started with a first year kicking me in the shins because his parents had told him that all Malfoys were evil and not to be trusted. Then James, Fred, and Frank gave me a map, and I had my closest brush with detention. Ever.

I looked down at the map in my hand. It was now entirely blank. That's probably for the best.

I sighed and stuffed it into my bag before I made my way down to the lake with my coffee. Studying for OWLs was turning out to be easier than my parents had said it was, but they made it sound like Hercules's labours, so I wasn't exactly floating by.

I sat down on my usual rock on the far side of the lake from the castle. The closer to the Forbidden Forest the better in my opinion. No one bothers me over here. Unfortunately, right as I pulled out my Transfiguration book, someone yelled "Cannonball!"

I looked up in time to see a giant rock fly into the lake directly in front of where I was sitting. The ensuing splash covered my entire sitting area, me, my coffee, and my Transfiguration book liberally. I brushed my dripping hair out of my eyes and glanced across the lake to see three seventh year Slytherins chortling to themselves and holding their wands out.

I took a deep breath and pulled out my wand to dry my book before it mildewed.

"Dicks," said a girl's voice from beside me. I put down my now dry book before I looked over at Lily Potter. If I weren't the Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I don't think I'd ever talk to anyone. James and Fred are two of the Chasers, which is why they talk to me. Frank talks to me because he's friends with them. Lily plays Seeker.

"Yeah, they are," I agreed.

"You should do something about them," she recommended.

"You and your brother," I muttered, glancing mournfully at my coffee and then deciding it was probably dead.

"What did James say?" she asked.

"He said I should get back at them," I replied.

"He's right," she said.

"Lily, I don't do anything like that," I pointed out. "Ever. The closest thing I do to rebellion is the fact I don't go to sleep until four in the morning most days."

She nodded slowly. "Then you're going to need a team."

"A team," I repeated blankly.

Suddenly, she got an excited look in her eyes and grinned enthusiastically. "Yeah," she said. "Like a heist team! Like you need your tech guy, and your pick pocket, and your dirty work guy, and your getaway car driver and-"

"How many Muggle films have you been watching?" I asked.

"Perhaps too many," she admitted. "But seriously."

"Thanks for the suggestion," I said. "So what brings you out to the lonely rock?"

"I heard them talking about splashing you, so I brought you new coffee," she replied, handing me an un-flooded mug.

"Thanks," I said.

"Sure," she said, starting to walk away.

"And, Lily," I called after her. "Thanks for the suggestion."

She grinned impishly. "You're welcome."

OOooOOooOOooOO

That night found me lying awake in my dormitory while the rest of the boys in my year snored. Maybe James and Lily are right. Maybe I should do something about the people who keep trying to make my life miserable. Maybe I should actually take matters into my own hands instead of just being a pacifist for my entire life. Staying out of it hasn't done me any good so far. And Lily's probably right. I do need a team. Of course, that feat would be substantially easier if I actually had friends. Without that being an immediate option, I might have to settle for loose acquaintances. But who is really the question.

I scrunched my nose in distaste and leant through my curtains. Digging through my bag, I finally came across the miraculously undamaged Marauders' Map. I grabbed my wand and closed my curtains again.

I glanced around surreptitiously before I pointed my wand at the map and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."