Filch is Blown Up, Weasley Brothers Punished

Back at the castle, they arrived just in time for lunch.

The Great Hall was already filled with students, the four house tables laden with abundant food.

Charlie walked over to the Hufflepuff table and found an empty seat.

"Charlie! Where have you been?" Ernie spotted him and immediately scooted over.

"We were looking for you for ages."

"Just wandering around, getting familiar with the castle."

Charlie replied casually, grabbing a roast chicken leg and taking a bite.

Justin was locked in a struggle with a chess piece, but when he saw Charlie return, his eyes lit up instantly:

"Charlie, fancy a game of intense Wizard Chess?"

"No thanks, I'm allergic to Wizard Chess."

Charlie took another bite of the chicken leg, speaking indistinctly—he was genuinely starving, having skipped breakfast.

"Oh... alright, I'll ask someone else."

Justin deflated on the spot, hugging his Wizard Chess set and eating gloomily in a corner.

Ernie chuckled:

"I just taught him Wizard Chess, and now he's obsessed."

Charlie nodded. Yeah, he was allergic to chess too.

Ever since that old man in the park wiped the board with him after giving up a chariot, a horse, and a cannon, he'd been allergic to any kind of board game.

Just then, the system's voice suddenly rang out in his mind.

[Congratulations, Your Majesty! Filch triggered the bomb, Tyrant Points +20!]

Charlie nearly choked on his chicken leg—this was the first time he'd gained so many Tyrant Points at once.

Before, it had been a slow trickle of one or two points; now, a big haul had come all at once.

He was so excited he almost jumped up, but he kept his composure on the surface, continuing to gnaw on the chicken leg.

"What's wrong?" Ernie noticed Charlie's odd behavior.

"Nothing, this chicken leg is just too good." Charlie made up a flimsy excuse.

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall burst open, and a multicolored figure rushed in.

All the students turned to look, then erupted into roaring laughter.

Filch was dyed in rainbow colors from head to toe—red, yellow, blue, green, all mixed together, making him look like a walking paint palette.

His hair was also a riot of colors, still dripping with paint.

Even funnier, he was holding a battered, broken toilet seat, also smeared with every shade of paint.

"Hahahaha! Filch turned into a rainbow!"

"What happened? Did he fall into a paint bucket?"

"This is hilarious, I'm dying!"

The students' laughter rippled through the hall, the whole place in an uproar.

It wasn't that all the students were cruel—it was just that Filch was thoroughly detestable.

He'd even suggested Dumbledore bring back old-fashioned punishments, using chains to discipline students, and the Weasley twins had found various torture tools in his office.

Someone like that was hard for any student to like.

Filch was trembling with rage. He charged straight for the Gryffindor table, zeroing in on Fred and George.

"It was you! You did this!"

Filch roared furiously, slamming the broken toilet seat heavily onto the table.

Fred and George exchanged a glance, putting on innocent expressions.

"Mr. Filch, what are you talking about?" Fred looked bewildered.

"We've been right here eating, we didn't do anything." George also put on a wronged face.

"Don't you lie to me!" Filch's face turned green with anger—well, it was already green anyway.

"You tampered with my toilet!"

Just then, Professor McGonagall heard the commotion and strode over quickly.

She saw Filch's miserable state, her lips pressed tight, her face grim.

She had a sinking feeling that this was definitely connected to the Weasley twins.

"What happened?" Professor McGonagall asked sternly.

"Professor! They rigged my toilet!"

Filch pointed at Fred and George, his voice twisted with rage.

"The moment I sat down, it exploded! I was dyed all over like this!"

Professor McGonagall first raised her wand, and a clear stream of water gushed from the tip, washing Filch from head to toe.

The paint was rinsed away, and Filch finally regained his normal skin tone.

Seeing this, a flicker of disappointment crossed Fred's face.

He had been hoping to see a rainbow-colored Filch for the whole week, never expecting Professor McGonagall to clean him up so quickly.

"Mr. Weasleys, did you do this?" Professor McGonagall turned to the twins, her tone severe.

"Of course not!" Fred denied immediately.

"Professor, we're innocent!"

"Exactly, we were eating in the Great Hall the whole time—how could we have touched Filch's toilet?"

George quickly defended them as well.

Filch let out a cold laugh, flipping the toilet seat over:

"You still dare to lie! Look at this yourselves!"

There, on the back of the toilet seat, was a line of golden text:

"The Weasleys present you with the most creative magical pranks."

Fred and George saw the words, and their faces fell into expressions of dismay.

"Damn, forgot to remove the tag," Fred muttered under his breath.

"We're done for," George said, his face bitter.

Seeing this evidence, Professor McGonagall's expression darkened further.

The proof was irrefutable; she could no longer defend these two students, nor did she want to.

"Mr. Weasleys, do you have anything else to say?"

Professor McGonagall's voice was cold enough to freeze.

Fred and George exchanged a glance, knowing further denial was useless.

"Alright, we did it," Fred admitted helplessly.

"Mr. Filch kept giving us trouble last semester, so we wanted to get back at him."

"That is no excuse for your prank!" Professor McGonagall snapped.

"Gryffindor loses fifty points!"

"Fred and George, one month of detention each!"

At these words, the entire Great Hall fell silent.

The Gryffindor students looked stunned—it was only the first day of term, and their house had already lost fifty points, dropping straight into the negatives!

"Fifty points?" a Gryffindor student exclaimed.

"Isn't that too much?"

"We're done for, no chance at the House Cup now."

"One month of detention, by the Galloping Gorgon, Professor McGonagall is really angry."

Fred and George wore looks of regret, heads bowed as if repenting their actions.

But Fred tilted his head, secretly exchanging a glance with Charlie.

Both their eyes held a hint of laughter.

That tag wasn't forgotten—it was left on purpose.

This was essentially a loud advertisement for their prank products in front of the entire school.

Now everyone knew how impressive the Weasley twins' pranks were, and plenty of people would come to them for custom orders in the future.

As for house points? What did Gryffindor's deductions have to do with them?

Charlie nearly burst out laughing—those two were just too wicked.

On the surface, they'd been caught red-handed, but in reality, this was their marketing strategy.

"Enough, all of you, quiet!" Professor McGonagall saw the students still whispering, and she roared like an enraged lioness.

"Mr. Weasleys, report to my office at eight tonight. We need to have a serious talk!"