There was instant silence, and naturally, no one stepped forward. Everyone exchanged glances, feigning innocence.
"I saw it, Professor Karkaroff," said a Slytherin, pointing in a particular direction. "It was Fred Weasley, he said it."
"Hey, it's George! Could you at least get our faces right?" Fred retorted with a sneer.
"So, was that you, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked, her tone sharp.
"Of course not," Fred replied with an exaggerated expression of innocence.
George chimed in with a nod, "I was in Transfiguration class just a minute ago. I don't even know what happened."
"I can confirm that," Professor McGonagall interjected. "They were indeed in my Transfiguration class."
"Slandering your classmates..." Sirius Black strode through the crowd, his voice laced with irritation. "Ten points from Slytherin. And perhaps it was you who said that, Millicent Bulstrode."
"I didn't! I didn't!" Millicent shouted, her face flushed. "You're making this up!"
"Ah, disrespecting a professor..." Sirius raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Another ten points from Slytherin."
Millicent looked ready to explode. She glanced around, hoping for support, but the Slytherins near her edged away.
They didn't understand what was happening, yet they stubbornly defended Karkaroff. How did people like that even make it into Slytherin?
She gritted her teeth. I should've gone to Hufflepuff!
"What a brainless idiot," muttered a few Slytherins nearby, casting her disgusted looks before turning away.
Throughout the ordeal, Professor McGonagall remained silent. However, when Sirius deducted points for the second time, she frowned and said, "You're deducting too many points, Professor Black."
"Really? I'll try to be more restrained next time," Sirius replied with a careless shrug.
Turning to Filch, Professor McGonagall added, "And Mr. Filch, let Mrs. Norris rest for a few days. I've noticed she's been looking thinner. A little break might do her good."
Filch, his face turning an alarming shade of purple, glared daggers at Karkaroff. After a long pause, he grunted his reluctant agreement.
Karkaroff, however, was unbothered. A Squib who could only clean the castle with detergent and a mop, he thought derisively. At Durmstrang, someone like that wouldn't even be allowed past the gates. He said nothing, though. His attention was drawn to the figure limping down the stairs nearby: Professor Moody.
While Karkaroff could brush off Professor McGonagall and Sirius, he wanted to avoid Moody altogether.
Just as he began leading his students out of the foyer, a small, round object suddenly flew out of the crowd.
Karkaroff recognized it instantly. That object had cost him half a month's worth of meals. Once was bad enough—but twice? Did they really think he'd let it hit him again?
With a flick of his wand, he casually deflected it.
The Dungbomb exploded midair, releasing a foul, brown-green liquid. The stench spread instantly, and everyone nearby scrambled to cover their noses. Even Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand to dispel the smell.
But before she could act, the liquid began coalescing and shot toward Karkaroff like an arrow.
Still smug, Karkaroff didn't react in time. The substance splattered all over him, drenching him completely. Worst of all, he had been smiling.
So...
"Ugh..." The loud sound of retching echoed through the entrance hall. Karkaroff clutched his mouth with one hand and his stomach with the other as he stumbled out, followed closely by his horrified students.
The sight sent waves of laughter rippling through the hall.
"Quiet," Professor McGonagall commanded, though the corners of her mouth twitched in spite of herself.
She turned to Fred and George, her gaze sharp this time. It was clear they had been the ones to throw the Dungbomb.
"Two points from Gryffindor," she said sternly. Then, after a moment, she added, "And no more."
...
"That's a pretty severe punishment," Fred muttered as they entered the Great Hall.
"But they only took away two points," Kanna said, clearly puzzled. "And Professor McGonagall didn't even give you detention. That's already pretty lucky."
"You don't understand," George sighed. "Because of those two points, Gryffindor has dropped from third to last place in the house points. And it's all because of us..."
Kyle glanced toward the scorekeeping hourglasses in the corner of the Great Hall. Hufflepuff was far in the lead, followed by Ravenclaw.
However, Gryffindor and Slytherin were trailing significantly behind. Even if their points were combined, they wouldn't make up half of Ravenclaw's total.
And the culprits? None other than Snape and Sirius, who would undoubtedly take gold and silver if there were a competition for house points deductions.
"So how did you manage to pull it off in the end?" Cedric asked, curious. "Making the Dungbombs work like that?"
"That's the genius of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Fred said with a grin. "We've modified the Dungbombs to jump again after exploding."
"Just like Chocolate Frogs," George added. "We were inspired by sweets."
"But the drawback is they only jump once and can't change direction. So if someone dodges it, it's useless..."
"But that's a minor flaw," Fred interjected. "And as you can see, even Durmstrang's headmaster fell for it. That's proof of success."
"We're planning to sell these special Dungbombs alongside the Skiving Snackboxes as the first products for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," George said.
"No, they should be the star products. Karkaroff's reaction is the best advertisement."
"He's already helped us make them famous..." Fred smirked.
"And if we get another chance," George said with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "we'll let him try some Skiving Snackboxes. Every single variety."
"I'd advise you to tread carefully," Kyle warned, shaking his head. "If there's a next time, Professor McGonagall won't let you off so easily. Durmstrang is Hogwarts' guest, and Karkaroff is a headmaster. They have to show some respect."
"That's okay," Fred said confidently. "We've already got a plan. We won't get caught."
Seeing their smug expressions, Kyle decided not to press the matter. As long as they weren't caught red-handed, the worst that could happen was suspicion, a few deducted points, or detention.
Detention, for Fred and George, was hardly a punishment—it was more like a trip home. As for points...well, Gryffindor barely had any left to lose anyway.
The Great Hall buzzed with lingering excitement over the scene that had unfolded earlier. Even Harry and the others, who normally couldn't stand Karkaroff's antics, had to admit that he had done something good this time—getting Mrs. Norris out of the castle.
At least, that's what they thought.
Harry and Ron had long since lost count of how many times Mrs. Norris had caught them in the act over the years. Every time, Filch would appear out of nowhere to scold them for making noise or dirtying the floors. They lost countless house points this way each term.
For Harry, the cat was a constant threat during his nighttime excursions. Even the Cloak of Invisibility couldn't shield him from her keen eyes.
This had left him with an almost instinctive reaction—every time he spotted a cat in the corridors, his heart would race, and he'd feel an urge to flee.
Now, that problem was finally gone.
Whether it was Harry, Ron, or anyone else, the relief was palpable. No more worrying about Mrs. Norris suddenly materializing when they least expected it. Filch remained a nuisance, but on his own, he was far easier to avoid.
The festive mood in the Great Hall swelled, as if Christmas had come early.