-AN All rights reserved to JK Rowling.

House: Gryffindor

Categoy: Short Story

Prompt: Lost and Found

Word Count (excluding AN) : 1022

Beta: SecretFruits

"Which of you did it?" scowled Argus Filch.

Fred Weasley grinned at the aged caretaker. "Could've been anyone. You don't know. And if you don't know-"

"-You can't punish us," finished George. "Besides, I think the hall needed some extra ambiance. I reckon that the smell helps brighten up that old, dank corridor."

"A dung bomb does not add ambiance!" hissed Filch. "You brats will pay for this. I would have you hanging up by your toenails in the dungeon if Dumbledore didn't insist it was cruel and unusual punishment!"

"Good man, that Dumbledore." George raised his hand as if holding an invisible glass to toast the headmaster in question.

"Too right you are, Georgie." Fred checked his watch and added, "Would you look at the time? We're going to be late for Herbology. Professor Sprout would be ever so disappointed to hear that her students are being kept from their studies due to baseless accusations."

"You two are not going anywhere!" snarled Filch. "I'm going to go fetch your head of house and she can deal with you!" With that, Filch took off in a high-knee jog leaving Fred and George alone in his office.

"Alright, Fred," George nodded at his twin. "We've got about five minutes until Filch returns. You know what to do!"

It was a terribly kept secret that Filch's office doubled as a lost and found. Over the years, confiscated goods accumulated in the drawers and cabinets that were crammed into the shabby room. A veritable treasure trove of Fanged Frisbees, Screaming Yo-Yos, and Auto-Answering Quills awaited the enterprising student who entered Filch's office and took a peak.

The quills held little interest for Fred and George's personal use. They had no inclination to cheat on their school work. But they realized that they could earn a few extra pocket coins by reselling the stolen goods to their less moralistic classmates. A handful of quills made its way out of Filch's drawer and into Fred's satchel.

"Careful, Freddy. Don't take too many. We don't want Filch to realize what we've done."

Fred looked at the chaos and clutter that enveloped the room. "I doubt he'll be able to notice that anything is gone from this mess."

George shrugged. "True. Now hand me those Frisbees."

The twins continued their office raid. When Fred came across an immaculately maintained box of love potions he asked, "Do you reckon Filch slips these into Mrs. Norris's nightly bowl of milk?"

"More like he mixes it in with his cuppa and stares at her. That man has an unhealthy fixation on….." George trailed off.

"What is it, Georgie?" Fred halted his drawer perusal.

"Jackpot!" George exclaimed. "Come and look at this. Confiscated and Highly Dangerous," he traced his finger along the cabinet's label.

In a flash, Fred was by his side. "Open it!"

The rows of the cabinet were organized and labeled according to academic year. Some rows were overflowing and others were completely empty. One shelf labelled 1977-1978 held a single piece of parchment.

With a swish and a flick, Fred levitated the folded parchment out of the cabinet.

The twins examined the object for a moment before George said, "What do you think it is?"

"No idea," Fred shrugged, "But Filch must've thought it was important to stow it away in here. Want to take it?"

"Filch is bound to notice if something is missing from this cabinet. It's the only thing that's organized in this whole room," George pointed out.

Fred's shoulders sagged for a moment before he perked up. "Unless-"

"-Unless we replace it with another blank bit of parchment!" George finished his twin's train of thought. "Filch'll never know the difference." He rummaged through his bag and pulled out his incomplete potions essay. He quickly vanished the ink and stuffed the replacement parchment into the cabinet.

Hearing footsteps approaching, the Fred grabbed the still floating parchment and hid it behind his back. George moved to stand slightly behind his twin. Filch and Professor McGonagall swept into the office.

"Mr. Weasley," she recognized George and addressed Fred, "Mr. Weasley. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

The twins had planned to cop to the dung bomb decorations as soon as McGonagall got involved. The point of this escapade was to gain unsupervised access to Filch's office, even if it cost Gryffindor a few house points and earned them a detention or two.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Fred pledged.

Out of the corner of his eye, George noticed that the parchment behind Fred's back was filling up with ink. It was only due to years of experience covering up capers from his mother that prevented George from reacting.

Professor McGonagall was stunned, "You confess?"

George jumped in, "Yes, professor. We were just having a bit of fun."

"Dung bombs are not a bit of fun," she deadpanned. "Five points from Gryffindor - each. And you will both serve detention with Hagrid this evening."

"Wicked," Fred and George mumbled under their breath. They'd heard stories of epic detentions with Hagrid from their elder brothers, Charlie and Bill. Percy was too much of a perfect ponce to ever serve detention.

"What- what was that?" McGonagall demanded.

Fred plastered on a frown, "Shucks. That's rotten luck. Best if we're off to our next lesson now. We'll be sure to meet Hagrid tonight for detention."

"I expect you both to be on your best behavior from now on," McGonagall implored.

"Of course Professor," George promised. "Ready Fred?" he clapped his twin on the shoulder, conveniently blocking the parchment behind Fred's back, and hustled him out of the office.

Once the twins were far enough down the hallway to be out of earshot, Fred abruptly stopped. "What just happened, Georgie?"

George yanked the parchment out of Fred's hands and pointed to the new ink.

Messrs.

MOONY, WORMTAIL,

PADFOOT & PRONGS

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

The

MARAUDER'S

MAP

Fred and George's eyes bulged as thoughts of wonderful mischief and gleeful mayhem filled their heads.

In awe, Fred whispered, "What did we just find?"