When it came to pranks, only Peeves in all of Hogwarts could go toe-to-toe with the twins.
After being mysteriously attacked by Dungbombs while frying fish in his office that morning, Filch was buried under a sticky swamp during his noon nap, unable to move.
What infuriated him most was that the door had been locked from the outside. He struggled free of the swamp and screamed himself hoarse, yet no one came to save him.
If Dumbledore had not come to ask for his help decorating the Great Hall for the Yule Ball that evening, who knew how long he would have remained trapped in his office.
There was no need to guess. It had definitely been those unbearably mischievous Weasley twins.
He had caught their sister last night, and they were already taking revenge today?
Criminal! So very criminal!
After giving Mrs. Norris a bath, Filch grabbed his lantern and began patrolling the castle with murderous intent.
He spared no corner. He even deliberately lay in wait in the kitchens from after the eleven o'clock curfew until three in the morning, but he still failed to find those damn twins.
"You little brats... You'd better not let me catch you... Otherwise... otherwise, you'll..."
A little after four in the morning, Filch finally could not stay awake any longer and went back to sleep.
He had a nightmare.
In the dream, he was chased by two little demons wielding pitchforks. He ran for his life, only to reach a cliff in the end.
He could either be stabbed to death by the pitchforks or gamble on a sliver of hope at the bottom of the cliff.
Filch decisively jumped off the cliff, and when he hit the ground, it felt as though his chest had been struck by a