Snape's Reaction

Since lunchtime was only halfway through, there were still quite a few students in the Great Hall. As usual, they were happily enjoying delicious fried pork chops and roasted potatoes with their friends.

However, at that moment, an incredibly potent aroma suddenly wafted in from outside.

The young wizards sitting closer to the door were the first to suffer; caught off guard, they nearly vomited all over the table.

"Ugh... Damn it, who threw Dungbomb in the hallway!" roared a Gryffindor wearing Prefect Badge.

His shout was actually a good thing, at least it reminded the people sitting inside.

The next second, they also smelled that odor.

The entire Great Hall was in chaos; the students stopped eating and rushed out of the Great Hall.

But once they went outside, they discovered that the smell was even richer outside. However, it was too late to go back, so they had no choice but to grit their teeth and run to their respective common lounges.

Amid the chaos, Percy astutely noticed that his two twin brothers did not appear to be in the Great Hall.

"Fred, George, it really is you..."

Percy felt he had discovered the truth. He stormed out of the Great Hall and strode angrily toward the Gryffindor common room. "I'm going to write to Mum!"

"My dear brother, what are you going to tell Mom...?"

Just then, two identical figures suddenly appeared at the corner ahead, blocking his way.

George chuckled, "Before you write to Mom, can you tell us what happened in the Great Hall? We were only out for a little while, and it's already become so... lively."

"Stop pretending! Don't you know what you've done?" Percy said angrily. "Throwing tons of Dungbomb into the castle and affecting almost all the students will cost Gryffindor a lot of points!"

"Wait, Percy ..." Fred was equally angry. "Even if you are our beloved brother, you can't slander us like this."

"That's right." George nodded seriously. "We've been on the Quidditch Pitch the whole time, how could we possibly have had time to throw Dungbomb at the castle?"

"Stop making excuses, you guys..."

"Go ask them," Fred interrupted him angrily. "All the players can testify for us."

George gave him a disappointed look and said, "Percy, I never imagined you would go so far as to slander your own brother just to claim credit."

"I will definitely write to my mother about this."

After they finished speaking, they turned and left.

Percy watched their retreating figures, and remembering their earlier confident promises, he suddenly felt a little panicked.

"Am I really wrong?"

He scratched his head, somewhat worried that they might actually write to his mother to complain about him. He wanted to chase after them, but he was too embarrassed to do so, so he could only stand there, conflicted.

Meanwhile, Fred and George were already laughing hysterically once they were out of Percy's sight.

Fred took a deep breath and said, somewhat intoxicated, "Truly worthy of being Special Dungbomb worth twenty Galleon; the taste is incomparable to ordinary ones."

"To be precise, it should be nineteen Galleon and ten Sickle," George corrected. "Don't forget there's also a big bag of bumper balloons."

"Sorry, I forgot about that," Fred said, somewhat puzzled. "But what use would Kyle have for a balloon? Those things pop at the slightest touch; they're practically the most basic joke props."

"Who knows?" George shrugged. "Maybe it'll have some other use."

The two walked and talked, quickly blending into the chaotic crowd.

On the way, they ran into Kyle. The three of them exchanged glances, and without saying a word to each other, they tacitly agreed not to speak.

When Kyle returned to the common room, there were already quite a few people there.

"They're from the Slytherin Quidditch Team; Rosier and Marcus are both there."

An older student sitting on the middle sofa said, "They were playing with Dungbomb in an empty classroom on the second floor, and they even blew up the door. As a result, they were seen by Peeves."

Then Peeves started yelling loudly in the hallway, attracting a lot of people. Now Rosier and the others have been taken by Filch to Professor Snape's office.

However, they claim that they are the victims.

They still believed that last statement.

After all, Rosier is a seventh grader. No matter what, he wouldn't lock himself in an abandoned classroom to play with Dungbomb. It's obvious he was tricked.

But that has nothing to do with them.

Harris, sitting next to him, took a big gulp of Pumpkin Juice and said gloatingly, "Ha, serves you right."

Someone in the crowd said worriedly, "Do you think Professor Snape might suspect us?"

"Then let them suspect us. It's not like we did it," Harris said nonchalantly. "Besides, our conflict with Rosier and the others happened a week ago. Gryffindor more suspicious, isn't they?"

"It must be Gryffindor!" Rosier said, trembling, in the Potions Office.

Marcus and the others were taken away by Filch and put in solitary confinement. Only Rosier was left behind. He stood in a corner, his face ashen, looking extremely listless.

Being hit in the face by Dungbomb is only one aspect; being frozen is a much bigger problem.

When Filch brought him here, Snape rinsed him three times with water and forbade him from using any spells to dry his clothes.

Only in this way could the stench emanating from him be less noticeable.

The problem is that the Potions Office is right next to the underground classroom, where the temperature is already low, and it's only November, so when the wind blows... it's incredibly irritating.

Within minutes, a thin layer of ice had formed on Rosier's clothes.

"You don't need to tell me that."

Snape gave him a cold look and said, "What I don't understand is, how could you be so stupid, using the Nimbus 2000... Where's your brain? Did you lend it to Troll?"

"Professor, I didn't mean to open it," Rosier said, trembling. "I just wanted to hide it, but I didn't expect Peeves to come..."

Rosier gave a brief explanation of the situation, successfully portraying himself as a good captain who cared about Slytherin's honor by omitting some unimportant details.

After listening, Snape glanced at him expressionlessly and said, "Is everything you said true?"

"It's all true," Rosier said firmly. "I can guarantee it, Professor."

"Good, at least you're not completely stupid."

Snape tossed him a Potions. "Go find Filch."

Rosier felt like he had been granted a pardon, and after receiving the Potions, he poured it directly into his mouth.

After the purple medicine entered his mouth, his face turned even bluer, and he choked and coughed repeatedly.

Honestly, this tastes not much better than the previous Dungbomb.