HP:The Prophet of Harry Potter

"Really throw it here?"

In the corner of the corridor on the second floor, the Weasley twins whispered quietly

. After yesterday's efforts, Fred had successfully mastered the Unlocking Charm. This morning, the two of them couldn't wait to cause trouble for Filch, which led to the scene unfolding before them.

"Yes, throw it here," George said, nodding toward the end of the corridor.

 "Yesterday, third-year William threw dung bombs here. I heard it took Filch ages to clean them off the floor."

"Alright, but make sure to cover me later." Fred took a deep breath as Filch began walking toward their location. He quietly reached into the paper bag and pulled out a large dung bomb.

 Just as he was about to say something to George, he realized his twin had disappeared.

"Traitor!" Fred muttered. Steeling himself, he waited for Filch to pass by before dropping the dung bomb.

There was a loud pop.

A putrid smell immediately spread through the corridor. Filch's face twisted into a grimace as he looked around, finally spotting Fred still clutching the paper bag.

"You little menace! Do you know how long it took me to clean up yesterday's dung bomb?" Filch roared, his face reddening as he grabbed Fred by the arm.

Fred tried to slip away, but his hands were dirty from the paper bag.

"The evidence is undeniable. Come with me! This time, you're definitely getting detention," Filch growled as he started dragging Fred toward his office. "I've been telling Dumbledore we need the old punishments back. Hanging students from the ceiling or giving them a good whipping would teach you brats a lesson!"

Meanwhile, George emerged from another passageway and trailed behind them.

 Fred, noticing George following, sighed in relief. At least his brother hadn't abandoned him completely.

Filch, muttering angrily about the stench of dung bombs, marched Fred into his office.

"Don't even think about running. If you try, I'll make it worse for you," Filch warned, gesturing toward the chains hanging behind his desk. "I oil them occasionally, hoping they'll be useful again one day. They're just the thing for teaching students not to break the rules!"

Fred ignored Filch's ranting, focusing instead on the filing cabinet most students avoided. He was searching for the confiscated supplies drawer.

Filch pulled out a piece of parchment and a long black quill.

"Name," he demanded.

"Fred Weasley," Fred replied, only half-paying attention as he eyed the drawer.

"Crime?"

"Using joke props in the corridor."

"You're defiling the castle!"

"Punishment and detention—" Before Filch could finish, another dung bomb flew into the room, spreading the smell of rotten eggs everywhere.

Filch froze, stunned. He dropped the quill and dashed out of the office in a rage, determined to catch the new culprit.

"Buy me some time, George," Fred muttered as he moved quickly to the cabinet. He tapped the drawer labeled Confiscated Supplies – Highly Dangerous with his wand and whispered, "Alohomora."

The drawer popped open. Fred grabbed an envelope, stuffed it into his pocket without looking, closed the drawer, and restored everything to its place.

Outside, Filch's heavy footsteps echoed as he dragged George back into the office by the ear.

"Another troublemaker!" Filch barked. He pointed at the lingering mess from the dung bomb. "You'll both clean this up while I watch. Don't even think about escaping. Now, follow me to see Professor McGonagall!"

Minutes later, Filch stood before Professor McGonagall, explaining the Weasley brothers' actions in great detail.The expression on the Gryffindor's dean's face immediately collapsed, Her mood was not very good because of the incident of William yesterday. She did not expect this incident to happen again today.

"Gryffindor loses twenty points," McGonagall said sternly. "Mr. Weasley, I don't know what's gotten into you two. You'll serve detention under Mr. Filch's supervision."

Filch grinned maliciously. "I'll make sure they understand the consequences of breaking rules."

McGonagall nodded. "You may take them."

As Filch led the twins away, he smirked. "Before detention, clean up your mess." He handed them buckets, mops, and brooms. "Let everyone see what happens to rule-breakers."

Fred and George exchanged glances, grumbling as they got to work.

Fred looked at George and winked. Despite the punishment, their mission had been a success.

The End.

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Go forth and Multiply that Powerstone count you butterbeer drinkers!