Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the rights to the Harry Potter setting or characters etc. I also haven't ever read any stories of this kind, so I can say with certainty that I am not taking anyone's material besides Rowling's, who has allowed this sort of thing.

A/N: This is meant to be a collection of short stories that are plausible or mentioned specifically but not shown in the Harry Potter canon. As such, if you see any inconsistencies or mistakes, please tell me about them.

Chapter Rating: K

Filch's Worst Nightmare

Argus Filch was having a rotten day. Seventeen different children had taken it upon themselves to muddy up the floors, Peeves had upturned a desk with a number of filthy, old, and forgotten potions ingredients left behind by some unwitting first year likely, who knew how many suits of armor had been knocked over during his escape, and those blasted Weasley twins had repainted a corridor into some absurd combination of colors. At the very least, he had caught Fred, or was it George? It didn't matter, he had written them both up for it anyway. But as he had been writing, there was an explosion in a nearby hallway, one that smelled exactly like dungbombs. He had promptly run to the source of the smell to catch the culprit, but by the time he had arrived, it was too late. He had gone. When he returned to his office, his day had suddenly gone from rotten to terrifying. The Weasley brat was gone, and there was a fingerprint on the drawer marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous". He wrenched it open, and quickly took stock of its contents. The Anything Eating Acid rested safely in its bottle, and the Fingerstab Needle had been entombed in thimbles. The Mirror of Hideous Reflections remained covered, and the Spoonerism Fork was still enclosed in a glass case. Indeed it looked as though nothing had been touched. Nothing except the Parchment of Insults he had confiscated from Peter Pettigrew, who had been so desperate to hold on to it that it simply had to be dangerous. Quickly he wrote up another report, blaming this theft on Fred and George, hoping to bring it to the headmaster and get them expelled. Surely this would be enough.

Elsewhere in the castle, Fred was congratulating George on an expertly timed diversion, and presented his hastily grabbed trophy to his twin. "This was in his dangerous confiscated stuff drawer. What's it do I wonder?"

George pulled the paper from Fred's grasp, and began poking at it with his wand. "I dunno, but it doesn't seem dangerous at any rate. D'you think it's just a lump of parchment?"

Fred thought for a moment. "Well, a squib like him probably couldn't tell the difference between normal parchment and bewitched stuff unless it did something, so it could be." He was disheartened by this thought, until he saw squiggles forming letters on the map. "Look, George! It speaks!"

"Mr. Moony would like to congratulate you for discovering this is not 'just a lump of parchment.'"

"Mr. Padfoot would like to declare you true geniuses, but you haven't sworn the oath yet."

"Oath?" Asked both the twins at once. Then the two turned to each other and grinned that manic grin only terrible geniuses could do. "I do believe we have been challenged, Fred."

Fred nodded. "Indeed, George. A challenge of wits between us and a lump of parchment."

"Truly no greater challenge has been issued," George added, without sounding sarcastic at all.

The two turned to the parchment now spread out before them, their wands lighting the small classroom they had hidden in. Now scrawled upon it was simply "State the Marauder's Oath, and all Hogwarts will be open to you."

Fred Frowned. "That's not much of a hint is it?"

It was George's turn to nod. "No it's not, but obviously if the whole of Hogwarts is in this parchment, whoever made it must have been up to no good." Both the twins were shocked to see the map suddenly flicker. For only a moment, the front flashed 'The Marauder's Map', and a brief depiction of the room they were standing in appeared in a corner with dots right where they would be standing labeled 'Fred Weasley' and 'George Weasley'. Again the twins grinned at each other, for if this map would show everything in Hogwarts, they would be nearly impossible to catch during a prank.

"Mr. Wormtail would like to assure you that this map has only ever been used with the noblest of intentions."

George quickly prodded the parchment with his wand, something he knew his father to do regularly when trying to activate charmed objects, and intoned in a clear, but quiet voice, "You are meant for no good."

The map once again flickered, but no more was revealed this time than previously, and another message was scribbled in.

"Mr. Prongs wants you to know that it is not we who are up to 'no good'."

Catching on, Fred too poked his wand at the map and said, "I am up to no good."

This time was more dramatic, the entire floor flashed across part of the map. It seemed that they were pretty far from anyone who might discover them for the time being, but knowing Filch, that wouldn't be for long.

"Mr. Padfoot believes you are simply not serious enough to manage your mischief."

The twins watched as the parchment suddenly drew a pair of rolling eyes next to each of the other three names before they took turns again trying different phrases. 'I seriously swear that I am up to no good' received a better response than 'I definitely swear that I am up to no good'. It was only a few minutes later that the twins were beginning to be frustrated, but soon George declared, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The twins' eyes widened as the map began writing again.

"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present: The Marauder's Map."

"Wicked", muttered both twins at once. All of Hogwarts was on the map. Dumbledore was in his office, McGonagall was wandering a hallway, many students were in their common rooms, and Filch was heading towards the room they were in through a secret passage they had never seen before. Though they were unaware of it, the caretaker of the castle suddenly had a shiver travel down his spine.

"So how do we turn it off, George?" Asked Fred as he scanned for a clear route away from their hideout.

George replied, "They probably want us to have our mischief managed before we put it away." As he finished his sentence, the map cleared itself away, looking once again like an innocuous piece of parchment. Once more they grinned at each other as they left to plan pranks that they had deemed impossible before.