'Happy, unpaid workers who thrive on having as much work as they can get.' Now that certainly merited more thought. He turned his attention back to the job at hand.
...
Stepping into the room and closing the door carefully behind him, his eyes darted around the room quickly as he began navigating his way between the mess on the floor and watching the four boys for any signs that he was detected.
Standing in the centre of the room, he focused his mind on the spell and results he desired. He pulled up memories of the fourth-year summoning charm he learned at the hands of Penny. "Accio, Marauder's Map!" he whispered the fourth-year charm forcefully, whilst mentally willing and visualizing the magical map his father had helped to create flying towards him. He heard an immediate rustle of parchment to his left in the quiet room, as he spun around to see a bedside table drawer moving, as if trying to open itself.
He quickly ended the spell lest the noise wake the room's sleeping inhabitants.
Moving silently across the floor like an incorporeal spirit, he reached the bedside table, noticing Neville's wand on its oak surface, as the water in the glass rippled in time to his silent steps. Opening the drawer, he recast the summoning spell again to ensure he got the real deal, causing an old-looking piece of parchment to suddenly fly out at speed, almost hitting him in the face before falling quietly to the floor.
Kneeling down, he picked up the old, folded piece of parchment, getting a sudden rush at finally having the map in hand after a year and a half of diligently searching for it.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," he whispered, his wand pointed at the enchanted map, watching in amazement as ink suddenly appeared, his father's nickname appearing on the parchment, along with the names of the rest of the Marauders who aided in its creation.
Stuffing the ingeniously enchanted parchment into his jeans pocket, he quickly rose to leave the room.
Leaving the sleeping Gryffindors alone rather than prank them pointlessly, he silently and invisibly climbed down the stairs before walking straight out of the Gryffindor common room. The sleeping Fat Lady didn't notice or care that the portrait had swung open for thin air.
Normally, he would be tempted to plant a false lead, a fake trail, to prevent anyone from discovering his involvement, but he believed it was unnecessary this time. After all, no one knew he knew of the map, only Penny did, and she would stay quiet. Their friendship and the companion oath would ensure that.
Either way, it would mean Neville would believe that at least one of his friends was responsible, or a fellow Gryffindor at the least. That was ultimately what he hoped would happen. He was originally planning to prank the Gryffindor dorm rooms in green and silver to make it look like a Slytherin was behind the whole thing.
But it wouldn't take much to realize that Slytherin wasn't responsible, that they were being played, and then look for another explanation. Better to be subtle in this instance and keep them guessing.
Ducking into another secret passageway, he worked his way back to Ravenclaw Tower.
Opening the map, he quickly found the location of Ravenclaw Tower and noticed an auror guard at the door. 'Crap,' he mentally muttered as he realized he couldn't get into his dorm room without revealing himself. After all, the guards might be lazy and near incompetent, but they would certainly notice the door opening by itself for no reason or the knocker asking a riddle to thin air.
'I knew I had forgotten something.' However, another moving dot got his attention — William Whitedrove, the seventh-year Ravenclaw prefect, patrolling on the fifth floor. Smiling, a solution popped into his mind; he would simply wait until the Ravenclaw prefect ended his patrol for the evening and returned to the common room.
Another half an hour passed before the seventh-year prefect returned. He waited patiently nearby, choosing to use the time wisely to familiarize himself with the map's workings whilst looking for anything odd on its face. 'Nothing,' he thought.
Soon enough he had hitched a ride and was back in his dorm room, no worse for wear, getting ready for bed after his successful raid. A year and a half search had ended in success. Now the map was his, to use and study at his leisure. The secrets to its creation would be his in time. It was a research project he was thoroughly looking forward to.
...
He rolled his eyes as another group of girls giggled at him as he walked past, a few of the braver ones even greeting him with a sultry 'Hi'ya Harry,' whilst batting their eyelashes at him. He would then predictably reply with a simple but charming smile and a 'Morning ladies,' or 'Afternoon,' etc. The worst part was that it wasn't just his own year group showing interest all of a sudden; almost all of the female population was behind this new trend of greeting him, with the exception of the first years, for the most part, and the seventh years, who mostly just smiled at him.
It was both flattering and annoying on so many levels. After all, it was a major confidence booster having multiple girls batting their eyelashes at you first thing in the morning and making crude attempts at flirting, like Lavender was trying to do after obviously hearing about how the twins each got a kiss from him.
But it was annoying as well, simply because it was a major distraction from more important matters. Having to play nice whilst trying to write an assignment or research a new piece of magic, yet doing neither well, was not all that appealing, it turned out.
Even when he thought he'd finally gotten away and could now get some work done, a group of girls would randomly sit down next to him in the library or Great Hall and attempt to make conversation that he wasn't really all that interested in.
He was seriously tempted to change policies and be an ass to the female population of the school, with the notable exceptions of his friends, but Sirius assured him that it would stop eventually and that he would mightily regret being an ass later. As in all things 'girl,' he bowed to the man's expert knowledge and followed the advice.
He just knew that it was Rita's Witch Weekly article that had caused this. He had seen it, of course, and had approved it prior to publication. He had thought it was rather flattering actually, with no outright lies, just tactful omissions really. He even helped pick the photos of him chosen for the article, ensuring that he looked nothing but the very best — but maybe he and Rita had done too good of a job? His productivity had certainly taken a noticeable hit, although it did reaffirm just how powerful an impact the press could have. Once he had enough free capital on hand, perhaps he should look into buying a controlling share in the Prophet? Or if that failed, start up his own publication and directly compete?
Upon entering the Great Hall, his cousin waved him over, clearly wanting his attention for whatever reason. Noticing he had quite a few eyes following him, tracking him, he went over to the Hufflepuff table. "What's up, cuz?" he asked casually.
Smirking up at him, "I just thought you would want to see this," she said and then handed him the newest edition of Witch Weekly. He ignored the pictures on the front cover; if he had looked closer, he would have spotted one of him with a golden '1' next to it.
"What am I looking at?" Harry enquired, only half-interested in women's gossip but wanting to keep up to date on the public opinion concerning him.
Smirking at him, "Look at page 4," Tonks answered. He could feel the staring at him increase.
...
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