Disclaimer: If I claimed to own Harry Potter and all characters affiliated with it, I'd be in as much trouble as eBay is right now.

I decided to branch out from my usual character fandom for once and live a little.

And thank you to Death Eater Bella for taking the time to edit. I am eternally grateful.

And finally, I dedicate this fic to my partner in crime and fellow mischief maker, ABitOfBlack.

Mischief Not Yet Managed

"I told you Filch would catch us if you threw it." Fred reprimanded, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"You were the one who dared me to throw it!" George shot back defensively. Fred gave a small laugh and nodded.

"Yeah." As silence permeated the room, the twins looked at each other, big grins spreading across their faces.
"Did you see his reaction when it bounced off the wall and hit him?!"

"That was bloody awesome!"

"Next time though, I say we-" George began, before Filch, at that moment decided to shuffle into the room, slamming the door so hard behind him it bounced back and opened again.

"Bloody first years. S'gonna take me a week to get rid of that wretched smell." He muttered to himself, sitting down at the desk. Well, Fred and George assumed it was to himself. Frankly, they didn't see what the big deal was. "Where's that bloody form?" he mumbled, rifling through the papers on his desk.

"Is this is it, sir?" Fred asked innocently, picking up and looking at one of the forms that had fallen to the floor.

"Application for change of punishment procedure." George read over his twin's shoulder. "I, Argus Filch, propose-"

"Give me that!" Filch snapped, snatching the sheet out of Fred's hand and placing it into one of the drawers in his desk. As he began grumbling about the "good ol' days where disembowelment was a common occurrence", George's eyes fell upon a particularly interesting drawer amongst the filing cabinets. His eyes widened as he nudged Fred and nodded towards the drawer.

"Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

Looking at each other, eyes alight with excitement; they knew what they had to do. The only problem was who was going to do it?

George shook his head violently and pointed at his brother. He threw the last one; the one which landed them in here. Silently, Fred insisted that George had to throw it; he himself was closer to the drawer. Therefore, it would be easier for both of them if he threw this one as well. George sighed as he held out his hand. Fred pressed another Dungbomb into it. Checking to see if Filch still had his back to them, George pulled back his arm and lobbed across the room and into the corridor. As it exploded and started emitting a foul smell, Filch spun around and looked accusingly at the twins, who sat there looking at him innocently.

"What the- Which one of you did that?!" Fred and George gaped at him.

"Honestly, sir. How could we have done that?" George asked.

"We've been sitting here the whole time. And anyway-"

"You confiscated all the Dungbombs we had when you brought us in here." Filch glared at them for a minute before hobbling out the door quickly, hoping to catch the perpetrator. Once they were sure he was out of ear-shot, Fred sped over to the cabinet, yanked it open and rummaged through it frantically.

"I knew it would pay off one day to have a secret stash of 'Dungs." Fred proclaimed as George joined him at the drawer.

"Wow, would you look at all this stuff! Just imagine what it all does."

"And why it was all confiscated." Shuffling footsteps in the hallway told them that Filch was returning.

"We can't take it all! That would be too obvious!"

"Well, what then?" Beginning to panic, they reached for the roll of parchment at the same time.

"Wait, not that! It's just parchment!"

"It wouldn't be in here if that's all it was! Anyway, we don't have time to ponder it over a cup of tea!" Fred shoved it into his robes and slammed the drawer shut, almost knocking off a pile of chains sitting on top of it. They bolted across the room and stood in front of the desk. Filch came back into the room with a disgruntled look on his face, followed by Mrs. Norris.

"I'll get them next time, my sweet. I promise you that. And they'll get more than just a detention." A malevolent grin spread across his features. The grin disappeared as he looked up at the twins standing before him. Noticing the chains on the cabinet clinking against each other, he turned to them, eyes narrowed.

"Now what have you done?"

"Nothing, sir." They answered in unison. Eyes still narrowed, he looked between the two suspiciously.

"Get out of here. But if I ever catch you again-"

"It definitely won't happen again, sir. We swear on this can of cat food." Fred placed his right hand over the tin.

"Thank you for your graciousness, sir." George shook the caretaker's hand enthusiastically. And with that, the twins ran out of the room, waiting until they were well away from his office before they started laughing.

- - -

Hours later, Fred and George sat in the Gryffindor common room. Being after midnight, the rest of their house were in their dormitories, asleep. The parchment they had 'procured' earlier lay out on the table in front of them.

"Try it again." Fred said, resting his chin on his hands dejectedly.

"Yeah, coz yelling at it worked last time, didn't it?" George replied, lying upside down on the lounge chair.

"Obviously not," Fred returned, gesturing to the parchment.

"You try something."

"I already did, remember? Hurling it across the room didn't work either."

"Oh yeah. I liked how you managed to hit Percy though." Fred looked at his brother and nodded.

"I think we all did."

"'Cept Percy."

"What? Our Percy? You think him storming out implied he didn't like it?"

"Just a bit."

"Percy's weird." They both added.

- - -

An hour later, George sat throwing grapes at Fred, trying to get them into his mouth. Most of them however, ricocheted off him and hit the parchment which still lay out in front of them.

"Maybe you should use magic." Fred suggested as George missed for the hundredth time.

"Maybe you should shut up and stop moving." George replied. However he picked up his wand and tried charming the grapes across the room and into his brother's mouth. It wasn't a complete failure; this time, only every second grape missed.

"Told you it would work." Fred said.

"How do you know I wasn't missing on purpose and aiming for your head?" George asked. Silence emanated throughout the common room as Fred tried to think of a comeback.

"Touché" he replied after a moment. "This is why I'm your twin."

"Coz I'm the only person who is able to put up with you."

"That too."

"Now if only we could figure this out!" George said, frustrated.

"Maybe it knows we're up to no good…"

"How can we use it for no good when we don't even know what it does?" Fred shrugged.

"Dunno."

"Maybe that's just it!" Fred said after a few minutes.

"What?"

"Maybe we need to be up to no good for it to work."

"How'd you figure that one out?"

"Well…it wouldn't have been in that drawer if it was going to be helpful, would it?"

"Our definition of helpful or other people's?" Fred laughed.

"Other people's, of course!"

"So what you're saying is-"

"We need to have the intention of creating havoc." The twins leant forward, poised over the table eagerly. Fred raised his hands and held them over the parchment.

"I'm up to no good." George stared at him.

"You might need your wand, genius."

"Right."

"Let me try." George picked up his wand and imitated his brother's actions.

"I'm up to no good." Again, nothing happened. Fred smirked at his twin.

"You might need your wand, genius." He mocked. George picked up a grape and threw it at Fred.

"Why? You want me to hex you?" he asked.

"After we figure this out."

"Maybe we need to sound more formal." George suggested.

"You mean like," Fred lifted his wand, cleared his throat and pointed it at the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He said dramatically. The twins looked down at the parchment and were startled to see fine lines of ink start to spread across it. They watched in awe as the markings formed, showing every little detail of the castle and grounds of Hogwarts.

"Yeah, just like that." George murmured, his eyes and mouth wide open. They both leant in closer as words in curly green lettering formed across the page.

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

Are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

Fred and George looked at each other and nodded.

"Brilliant."

"So, by the looks of it," Fred began, "this map shows everything at Hogwarts." George nodded.

"Everything and everyone. Where they are and what they're doing. Hey, look. Dumbledore's pacing in his study." George said following the little dot labelled 'Dumbledore'. "He always did look the type to pace."

"Yeah, his beard always gave that impression." Fred added.

"How about we test it to see exactly how accurate this so called 'map' is?" George inquired, focusing on one particular dot. Fred looked down at the map.

"Yes, I'd say now would be the perfect time to do so."

"Right, you go get the supplies. I'll set up here."

"Right!"

- - -

"Are you ready?"

"I think so."

"Good, coz he's just outside. Well, if this map's correct, he is." They looked at each other and grinned.

"Well, here goes nothing." And with that, they hid behind the lounge, waiting, map in hand.

They didn't have to wait too long. After less than a minute of waiting, the portrait opened and George gestured to his brother. Fred obliged, giving the firework a small prod with his wand and as it fizzed and sputtered, he stood up and threw it across the common room.

Percy screamed as the firework exploded, showering him with brightly coloured sparks. The twins watched in amusement as the remnants of the firework popped and sputtered around their older brother. Percy spun around to face them, face bright red in annoyance.

Identical grins spread across Fred and George's faces, their eyes shining with delight.

"Wicked."