Chapter 67: Snape's Reaction

As only half of the lunchtime had passed, there were still many students in the Great Hall. Just like usual, they gathered with friends, enjoying delicious fried pork chops and baked potatoes.

However, at this moment, an intensely overpowering smell suddenly drifted in from outside.

The unfortunate ones were the young wizards sitting close to the entrance. Caught off guard, they almost emptied their stomachs onto the table.

"Ugh... damn it, who threw dung bombs in the corridor!" Yelled a Gryffindor with a Prefect badge.

His outburst served a purpose, at least alerting those inside the hall.

The next second, they too caught a whiff of the odor.

Chaos ensued in the Great Hall, students abandoned their meals, rushing out of the hall.

Yet, once outside, they discovered the scent was even stronger. However, going back was impossible at this point, so they had no choice but to run to their respective common rooms.

Amidst the chaos, Percy keenly noticed that his twin brothers were nowhere to be found in the Great Hall.

"Fred, George, it must be you..."

Percy felt that he had uncovered the truth. He pushed his way out of the Great Hall, storming towards the Gryffindor common room, "I have to write a letter to Mother about this!"

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

At that moment, two identical figures suddenly appeared around the corner, blocking his way.

George grinned, "Before you write to Mother, can you tell us what happened in the Great Hall? We were only out for a moment, and it's suddenly so lively."

"Stop pretending, don't you know about the "good" things you have done?" Percy said angrily, "Throwing dung bombs all over the castle, affecting almost all students. You'll cost Gryffindor a lot of points!"

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

"That's right." George nodded seriously, "We were at the Quidditch pitch the whole time. How could we have time to throw dung bombs around the castle?"

"Stop making excuses, you guys..."

"Go and ask around," Fred interrupted angrily, "All the players can testify for us."

George looked at him disappointedly, "Percy, I never thought you would stoop so low to actually falsely accuse your own brothers just for some recognition."

"I'll definitely write to Mother about this."

They turned and walked away.

Watching their backs, Percy, recalling their previous earnest promises, suddenly felt a bit uneasy.

"Could I have been wrong?"

He scratched his head, worried that they might actually write to Mother about him, and wanted to chase after them. However, he hesitated and remained standing there.

On the other side, Fred and George were already laughing hysterically after they left Percy's line of sight.

Fred took a deep breath, somewhat intoxicated, "Truly worth the twenty Galleons of dung bomb. This smell is beyond comparison with ordinary products."

"Technically, it's nineteen Galleons and ten Sickles," George corrected, "Don't forget the bag of bumper balls we added."

"Sorry, I forgot about that." Fred said, puzzled, "But what use does Kyle have for bumper balls? Those things burst upon touch, and are the most basic prank item."

"Who knows." George shrugged, "Maybe there's some other purpose."

As they chatted while walking, they soon blended into the chaotic crowd.

On the way, they also encountered Kyle. The three of them exchanged glances, tacitly choosing not to speak to each other.

By the time Kyle returned to the common room, it was already quite crowded.

"It was the Slytherin Quidditch team, both Rosier and Marcus were there."

A senior student sitting on the sofa in the middle spoke, "They were playing with dung bombs in an empty classroom on the second floor. They even blew the door off, which happened to be seen by Peeves.

Then Peeves shouted loudly in the corridor, attracting many people. Now Rosier and his gang have been taken to Professor Snape's office.

But they claim they're the victims."

The last statement, however, was believable.

After all, Rosier was a seventh-year. No matter what, he would never lock himself in an abandoned classroom and play dung bombs. It was evident that someone had set them up.

But that wasn't their concern.

Harris, who sat beside them, took a big gulp of pumpkin juice, reveling in their misfortune, "Ha, serves them right."

In the crowd, someone worriedly said, "Do you think Professor Snape will suspect us?"

"Let him be suspicious, it wasn't us who did it anyway." Harris said nonchalantly, "Moreover, our conflicts with Rosier and his gang were a week ago. Compared to us, Gryffindor is more likely to be suspected."

...

"It must be Gryffindor!" Rosier said tremblingly in the Potions office.

Marcus and the others had been taken away to detention by Filch, leaving only Rosier behind. He stood in the corner, looking pale and depressed.

Being hit by a dung bomb in the face was one aspect, the other was due to the cold.

When Filch brought him here, Snape used a cleaning spell on him three times with clear water and didn't allow him to use any spells to dry his clothes.

Because this was the only way the stench on him would be less noticeable.

But the problem was that the Potions office was right next to the dungeon, and the temperature was already low. In addition to that, the fact that it was November, so when the wind blew… He couldn't help but shiver.

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

"I don't need you to tell me these things."

Snape gave him a cold glance, "What I can't understand is, how could you be so stupid? And the Nimbus 2000... Where was your brain? Did you lend it to a troll?"

"Professor, I didn't intend to open it." Rosier trembled, "I just wanted to hide it, but I didn't expect Peeves to come..."

Rosier briefly explained the incident, omitting some unimportant details, successfully portraying himself as a good captain who cared and valued Slytherin's honor.

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

"They are all true." Rosier affirmed, "I can guarantee it, Professor."

"Very well, at least you're not utterly stupid."

Snape tossed him a bottle of potion, "Go find Filch."

Rosier, feeling as if he had received a pardon, took the potion and directly poured it into his mouth.

After the purple liquid entered his mouth, his face turned even more pale, and he coughed continuously, choked by the taste.

To be honest, this taste was not much better than the dung bombs earlier.

(End of chapter)