The Dungbomb was a magical stink bomb that released a putrid odor, invented in the 1880s.
It was one of the Weasley twins’ favorite prank props.
They’d once slipped one under their Great-Aunt Muriel’s chair.
She was so furious she never visited again.
When she wrote her will, she specifically stated they’d get nothing.
Even so, the twins loved Dungbombs with a deep and abiding passion.
They’d pitch them at any opportunity.
“Aren’t those contraband?” Neville swallowed.
“Professor Dumbledore stressed that…”
Fred and George both curled their lips, utterly unconcerned.
“Dumbledore only keeps calling them contraband because Filch insists on it.”
“Even if you’re not planning a prank, you could buy one for self-defense.” Fred opened the bag and showed off his little treasures.
“If someone messes with you, just drop one on his head.”
George picked up the thread instantly.
“And if he doesn’t happen to know Scourgify, that’s when the fun starts.
The stench will cling to him, creeping into his nostrils even while he sleeps.”
“So, want one?”
“Buy now, and we’ll throw in the detonation spell.
Guaranteed to work!” After George finished, Fred jumped right back into rhythm.
Then they turned together and spoke in unison.
“These are our little treasures!”
Neville shook his head fast.
He hadn’t even mastered Scourgify himself.
No way he was touching that stuff.
“How much for one?”
Hylan asked the price with genuine interest.
He actually had a use for these.
During Potions, those two rats hovering around Nott had been badmouthing him behind his back, hadn’t they?
He was the type to settle scores.
Even if he hadn’t heard it, he’d still settle it.
And he’d charge a higher price.
If they wanted to run their mouths, he’d give them something far more foul.
Adding a little extra to the payback was his personal gift.
Conveniently, the two of them were roommates.
Made his job easier.
Fred and George exchanged a glance, raising their eyebrows at each other.
In their experience, a customer asking the price was a very good sign.
“Four Silver Sickles.
But we’re running a special right now, so three Sickles each.”
The price was a bit higher than outside, but inside Hogwarts, it was fair.
They were contraband, after all.
The twins had storage and concealment costs, so it wasn’t a ripoff.
“I’ll take two.”
“Done.
Thanks for your business!”
The twins taught Hylan the detonation spell, then said their goodbyes and left.
As they walked away, Fred glanced back and asked quietly, “Did we overcharge him?”
“Not at all.
We sell them to everyone else at that price.”
“But what if he really is our uncle’s kid?
That would make him our cousin.”
George was momentarily speechless.
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
They immediately started plotting again.
What prank supplies should they buy next?
Or should they save it?
They’d always wanted to start a joke shop and had been saving up for it.
That was why they were pushing Dungbombs in the first place.
The news that Snape had awarded Hermione points in Potions spread fast.
Just like when Nott apologized to Neville, the students ignored the actual facts and insisted on turning it into a whole-house affair.
Gryffindors and Slytherins alike were buzzing about it.
The difference was, the Gryffindors were all looking for Hermione.
They saw her as a champion who could actually win points for Gryffindor from Snape.
The Slytherins, meanwhile, were fuming.
“This is absurd.
Something’s definitely off!”
“Hylan must have slipped Professor Snape Amortentia!
Why else would he give Gryffindor points?”
“How is this normal?”
Noah Burke and Oliver Becker sat in the common room, cursing Hylan out as a traitor helping the enemy.
These were the two who’d given Hylan and Hermione nicknames during Potions.
As they talked, they kept their eyes fixed on the common room door.
Every time someone entered, they’d suddenly fall silent, only resuming once they saw it wasn’t Hylan.
After a quick dinner in the Great Hall, Hylan returned to the common room.
The two who’d been chattering away with such swagger instantly went mute, like chickens with their necks wrung.
They couldn’t even make a sound, guiltily turning their heads away.
“Ah, just the two I was looking for.” Hylan smirked inwardly.
He walked over and stopped in front of them.
“Either of you know Scourgify?”
The pair assumed he’d learned some new spell and was coming over to show off.
Their irritation flared instantly.
Noah Burke, a pureblood, gave a cold snort and spoke with exaggerated arrogance.
“My family has house-elves.
I’d never need to handle such trivial matters myself.”
Oliver, the half-blood, wasn’t about to be outdone.
“My family has servants too.”
The two seemed to find some sense of superiority in this, sneering smugly.
“So what if you know Scourgify?
It still won’t scrub off that stench of poverty.”
Oliver waved a hand in front of his nose, eyeing Hylan’s worn clothes.
“Mr.
Prewett, do us a favor and step back.
Your cheap stink is choking me.”
Hylan nodded.
After all that bluster, he’d learned what he needed.
Neither of them knew Scourgify.
That made things simple.
“Gentlemen.” Hylan smiled at them.
“Wish you both a pleasant sleep tonight.”
Hearing Hylan say that, the two were briefly bewildered before deciding he must be afraid of them.
They launched into a mental victory lap.
“He’s not as tough as the rumors say.”
“Yeah, yeah.
Next time we’ll really show him!”
“Right.
Make him get on his knees and beg!”
Just as their talk was heating up, the common room door swung open.
Malfoy strutted in with his two cronies.
Noah and Oliver reflexively shut their mouths.
It took them a moment to remember Hylan was already gone.
The guy had left.
What were they afraid of?
So the two resumed their mental victory parade, talking to themselves again.
Back in his dorm, Hylan didn’t rush to sleep.
He kept flipping through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3.
After all, he still had an activity planned for later.
[Spell Inspiration: Proficiency +1]
After reading for a good while, Hylan figured the timing was about right.
He got up, left his dorm, and walked all the way to Noah and Oliver’s door.
He tried the handle first.
Locked, as expected.
Cautious, those two.
Too bad.
Hylan had already learned the Unlocking Charm.
“Alohomora.”
The door opened.
Looking at the two sleeping figures, Hylan’s face twisted into a cruel smile in the darkness.
You couldn’t touch Dungbombs with your bare hands.
They’d stain your fingers.
So Hylan levitated them with his wand.
Showtime, little treasures!
30+ chapters are available now and daily updates!