Oh, wow, Novel Netware. That takes me back to high school.
Our computer lab had Novel Netware, I forget which version. Every once in a while, our regular programming classes (Pascal in first two years, C and Assembly Language in third year, Prolog and Theory of Relational Databases in fourth year) would be held in the lab, instead of the classroom, and we would get to put what we learned to use and do some actual programming.
Now, some of us had computers at home and had been using them since before the high school, so we tended to finish our work really fast and then get bored. And just like a lone sharpie cap is the most terrifying thing a parent can stumble upon, so a bored high school kid is the worst thing for your computer security.
Each student had their own account, but teachers shared a limited number of teacher accounts, with special privileges, such as monitoring other students' screens, having full write access to every student's files, etc.
For some reason, I don't remember why, teachers would occasionally go to a student's workstation and log in as a teacher there, to fix the problem. I honestly can't remember why, but it was a common enough problem that it wouldn't raise any brows even if one of us "advanced" kids did it.
So, of course, I eventually came up with the idea of writing a really small and simple program that would look exactly like the Netware login prompt, with one small difference: when you entered the password, it would write it to a file on the filesystem spit out whatever the "incorrect password, try again" reply was, and then execv the actual login program.
The ruse worked perfectly: I called the teacher, they tried to log in, thought they mistyped the password, tried again, succeeded, did whatever it was they were supposed to do, and logged out. Now I had the teacher account password, and so did my best friends in mischief.
We had some innocent fun by pulling a couple of very minor pranks on our fellow students that flew under the radar, so none of the teachers realized that the security was compromised.
But then the annual programming competitions came, and those went all the way from school level, to municipality, to city, to republic, to federal. I was one of the people who qualified to the city-level competition, and what do you know, that year it was hosted in our school's lab.
I finished all the problems with plenty of time to spare, which is how I came up with the "brilliant" idea of helping some of my peers by sharing my solutions with them using the teacher account. Now, one thing they neglected to teach us was the importance of testing, but I'll be honest, even if they did that, I was a typical teenage "gifted kid", which meant I was overconfident and lazy. As a result, everyone who I shared my solutions with happened to have the exact same bugs in them.
A few days later, they called me to the teachers' room in the computer lab, and said that they knew I cheated, that I was already disqualified, and that I should save myself some trouble and explain what I did. So naturally, I came clean and I thought that was the end of it.
Indeed, it was the end of it for me. Nothing else happened, at least nothing of consequence for me. Years later, I found out that I almost got expelled. They held a teacher assembly or conference or whatever it's called when you get all of them together to make a decision, and the decision was whether to kick me out of the school. Fortunately, they decided to let me off with a warning and the official reprimand from the headmaster.
My mom didn't think that was funny at all.