CH19 - The Marauder's Map

As Edmund explored more of the Forbidden Forest, he finally began to encounter the issue he knew he would have to consider sooner or later. Far too much of his time was lost backtracking and going through the same parts of the forest. This was because he had no clear way of noting his position or where he had been and where he hadn't.

The solution was obvious. The Marauder's Map.

Edmund had first focused on simply recreating the map, but his investigations led him to conclude that the magic involved was far too complex for him to solve any time soon. And Edmund needed the map now, not six months later.

The next step was thievery, but what sort of implications would that have?

'This year's problem is basically solved. Peter Pettigrew is dead, and Sirius Black shouldn't have any reason to come anywhere near Hogwarts,' Edmund thought to himself.

'Next year the map might have been used by and against Barty Crouch Jr., but if things go right, Voldemort shouldn't pursue that route anyways,' he dismissed.

'If Umbridge still ends up as Hogwarts Inquisitor, then the map would have been a method to track her movements and to prevent her from finding the D.A. Still, it was just a precaution. The plan to form the D.A. would have proceeded with or without the map. Maybe by then, I could return it somehow?' he thought contemplatively.

'In his sixth year, Harry only uses the map to follow Draco Malfoy, and the year after that to keep an eye on Ginny Weasley,' he finished.

'It'll be iffy, but it shouldn't make any major changes to the timeline,' he tried to convince himself.

His need was greater than Harry Potter's right now, and Edmund had no problem being selfish. This exact thought process had run through his mind many times, but he had never been able to do anything about it before.

Edmund had no way to prevent the Weasley twins from seeing him coming on the map if he tried to steal it in the daylight. If a deathly hallow like Harry's cloak didn't hide him from the map, Edmund had doubted that anything he did would be capable.

The theft would have to occur at night when there was no chance that the twins would be watching the map. This too had its problems.

At the beginning of the year, Edmund was a novice. Breaking into the Gryffindor dorms would require a method of invisibility, something he did not possess yet. Furthermore, he would not have felt secure without researching the safety measures present in the area. Harry Potter might have gotten into the Slytherin common room easily enough, but there was no telling if it would be so easy to enter the actual dorms. Edmund was paranoid, and he was proud of it.

When he had finally gotten his cloak, Edmund had been left with little time before Sirius' break-in. At that point, all his energy had been devoted to orchestrating Pettigrew's demise. Unfortunately, following the incident with Black, security at Gryffindor tower had only increased, making his heist even more difficult. Edmund had no doubt that if an invisible figure gave the password to the common room after hours, teachers would be alerted immediately.

That was where he had gotten stuck.

'Until now,' Edmund thought to himself excitedly.

*-*-*-*

FLASHBACK November 1993

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Edmund was out of bed at night, exploring the halls of Hogwarts. This was nothing new. What was novel, however, was his route. Shortly after sneaking out, he had come across McGonagall's animagus form patrolling the halls, sneakily stalking the corners so that no one saw her coming. Her feline senses were also evidently a boon for her, as Edmund saw her ears shoot upwards before she dashed towards a broom cupboard several corridors down.

Returning to her natural appearance, McGonagall threw open the doors, her face already plastered with her distinct look of disappointment. After chiding the blushing teenagers she had uncovered, the woman continued on her route again as her alternate form.

Chasing after McGonagall quietly, Edmund quickly realized she was heading to the Gryffindor common room. Once she reached there, she surprised him.

Instead of changing back and giving the password, she approached a small gap in the wall in the bottom corner of the hall. Wriggling through it, she vanished from his view, shocking him.

'Interesting,' he thought, before turning back to head to his room.

END FLASHBACK

*-*-*-*

Edmund had been incredibly tempted to tease the older woman about her actions but had managed to stop himself. He knew she would be suspicious about why she had not detected him, and he would have no answer. The woman would probably not be proud of how he was going to use the knowledge he had gained, but it was for the greater good.

Even with the discovery of the pet entrance, Edmund knew that his plan would require a significant amount of difficult magic to execute flawlessly. Namely, transfiguration.

Inanimate-to-inanimate transfiguration was something Edmund had already learned from back to front. It was classic first-year material, and something he had mastered quickly in his sessions with McGonagall and Voldemort.

Animate-to-inanimate transfiguration was a little tougher, but still manageable. It was something that was introduced near the end of the first year, in the form of the mouse-to-snuffbox transfiguration spell. The discipline demanded the capability of the caster to suppress the will of the living creature that was being transfigured, and to do so for prolonged periods of time. Edmund's mental strength was admirable, so this presented no issue to him.

The real challenge was inanimate-to-animate transfiguration. Charms had some spells that could force inanimate objects into motion, like in the first-year exam where students were asked to make a pineapple dance on a desk. But even then, Charms was incapable of replicating full movement in animals where separate limbs and parts of the animal had to move individually. That needed transfiguration, and it was difficult.

Essentially, the practice required the caster to imbue a will in the created construct and provide it with knowledge of basic movement. It not only siphoned great amounts of magic, but also called for extreme precision and attention to detail.

That was why Edmund had decided to make it easier on himself. Taking a gander through the Room of Lost Things, he had come across a kneazle statue, bejewelled with opulent sapphires and rubies. The kneazle was captured mid-stride, its head thrown to the side and tail standing straight up. The sculpture was a gaudy one, but it would serve its purpose.

Lugging the statue on his shoulder under his cloak, Edmund finally reached the corner preceding the Gryffindor common room.

Panting quietly not to give himself away, he gave himself a few moments to catch his breath.

Once he was ready, he turned his attention to the kneazle.

The magical cat came to life with a wave of his wand and a quiet incantation. Commanding it to shake its head, Edmund watched as its ginger fur rippled and the muscles on its legs flexed.

'Not bad, not bad,' he commended himself before focusing once more.

The big kneazle walked up to the portrait in which Sir Cadogan was snoring peacefully, scratching it fiercely. The knight woke up with a shout, his armoured headpiece clanking shut and his sword withdrawing from its sheath. He waved the weapon wildly, searching for his attacker.

"Who is it?! Who dares attack Sir Cadogan the knight, in such a dishonourable and cowardly manner?! If you have the guts, show yourself!" he yelled waking up many of the portraits around him who began to complain. He paid them no mind, however, continuing his search.

Eventually, Sir Cadogan's eyes went down, and he found a kneazle sitting on its haunches and yawning lazily as it watched the commotion with boredom.

"You! Feline fellow! Have you lost your mind? I could have stabbed you, you know?" Sir Cadogan postured, puffing out his chest before growing incensed once more. "What is it you want?"

The cat stared at him, before walking over to the hidden entrance in the corner. Raising its paws as if telling Sir Cadogan to watch, it attempted to squeeze through the small gap. Unfortunately, its squishy face was the only part of it that could make it in, as the rest of its chonky body got stuck. Pulling itself free, it looked at Sir Cadogan again with a deadpan face.

Seeing Sir Cadogan's incredulous face not changing, it scratched the portrait once more, before squatting with its rear leaning against the canvas.

"WAIT! WAIT! Calm yourself, my good man! Threats of defecation are not necessary, I assure you! If you desire passage, I shall grant it," Sir Cadogan tried to appease, swinging open the door without a moment's hesitation.

The kneazle strolled in leisurely, with the hidden Edmund right behind him. When the portrait closed once more, Edmund allowed himself to relax.

'Hopefully, that was the toughest part done with,' he thought, wiping his brow.

Commanding the kneazle to lie down in the corner, Edmund looked around the common room. The area was similarly massive to Hufflepuff's, decorated ostentatiously with red and yellow motifs. The fireplace was still burning in the corner despite the hour, crackling merrily, casting shadows throughout the dark room.

Recasting the silencing charm on his shoes, Edmund slowly walked up the spiralling staircase, hugging the central wall. In case anyone came down the stairs, he wanted to give himself the best chance to avoid them. Fortunately, nothing of the sort happened, and Edmund made it to the fifth-year dorm without incident. Silencing the door's hinges, Edmund drew it open, slipping inside without notice.

Loud snores greeted him, filling the otherwise quietness of the room. The curtains were all closed, but the Weasley beds were easily identifiable. Their surname, 'WEASLEY,' was boldly embroidered on each of their trunks, worn out and weathered. They were likely hand-me-downs, but their condition was good. They clearly intended to keep them for a long while, and it showed.

Inspecting the trunks for any jinxes or hexes, Edmund was unsurprised to find many, layered one on top of the other. The twins were pranksters to the core, and undoubtedly took great pleasure in protecting their keepsakes. Unfortunately for them, they were not professional enchanters, and Edmund was a budding ward-breaker.

Rather than bother with dismantling and reestablishing the protections later, he decided to cheat the wards altogether. The twins had only bothered laying their traps along the opening of the trunk rather than encapsulating it, and they would pay for that mistake.

With a sharp flick of his wand, Edmund transfigured the bottom of the trunks open, before quickly casting a mass levitation charm to prevent any belongings from falling out noisily. The map was stored at the bottom of the chest, and thus was easily discovered by him.

He pocketed the large piece of parchment, ensuring it was secured in his robes.

Retracing his steps and erasing all signs of his presence, Edmund swiftly returned to the common room. Once again directing the cat to open the door, it wasn't long before Edmund had successfully escaped with no one the wiser.

Untransfiguring the cat, Edmund pulled the kneazle statue back under his cloak, before ducking into an empty classroom to examine his loot.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said, watching as a flood of ink invaded the pages, forming the Marauder's Map.

Staring at the map, he examined various floors and rooms of interest. The map was a treasure, and Edmund was well aware of that.

Searching for his own position, Edmund decided to confirm his suspicions.

'Just as I thought,' he said, staring at his name.

"Edmund Cole"

Not Tom Riddle, or something else entirely. Just the name that had been given to him.

'It makes sense. The map detects you as who you believe yourself to be at the core. Students with middle names don't have those included in the map, and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore certainly doesn't have his full name appear either,' he nodded to himself. 'At the end of the day, I'm not Tom. All I have are his memories and his body. My soul is what's important, and that belongs solely to me,' he snickered at his wordplay.

'I am Edmund Cole. It doesn't matter who I was before. This is who I am now,' he declared to himself, sighing audibly. 'I better make the most of what I have...'

"Mischief managed," he said with a tap of his wand, folding the parchment up and back into his cloak.