Chapter 39 Mr. Filch’s Love

With a shrill cry, Mr. Filch's furious voice echoed in the corridor, "Which bastard put a dung bomb and a stink bomb in my fireplace!!!"

Smash it, Robert thought, the dung bombs shouldn't be teleported away with those paper cranes, that means...

Mr. Filch, covered in brown mud, appeared at the door of the auditorium.

His expression was dull, and the smell on his body could scare away all wizards.

He just walked towards the teacher's seat, one step, two steps, three steps...

Plop.

The students screamed and looked at Mr. Filch in panic, not knowing what was happening.

Professor McGonagall first came to Mr. Filch. Smelling the pungent smell, she waved her wand and called two senior students to take Mr. Filch to the school hospital.

Robert mixed in the crowd, pulled the twins, and whispered, "Did you put too much?"

"No way!" Fred lowered his voice and whispered, "Dung bombs are just disgusting. Although stink bombs smell a bit unpleasant, they are also harmless!"

Robert didn't even know what expression he was going to make. Although it was not poisonous, it could stun people and make them faint.

Isn't Mr. Filch a living example?

Seeing the disbelieving expression on Robert's face, the twins quickly explained, "We really only have one rotten egg left!"

Robert curled his lips, "You two's credibility is too low when it comes to pranks!"

Finally, poor Mr. Filch was carried into the school hospital.

Madam Pomfrey was startled, thinking that someone had attacked the caretaker of Hogwarts, but as she continued to check, she reluctantly discovered that Mr. Filch was actually knocked unconscious?

"So, he finally fainted after taking a shower, changing into new clothes, and even using men's perfume. As soon as he stepped into the fireplace, he was covered in shit bombs and was so angry that he fainted?" Reid was stunned, "Is this the Filch I know? He can actually wear perfume?"

The corner of Robert's mouth twitched. What, it felt like he was involved in some terrible incident.

Well, a series of events that happened later told them that the twins and Robert were in big trouble!

Mr. Filch, he's gone! relative! of!

Originally, Mr. Filch, who had washed himself fragrantly and clean, was going to Hogsmeade Village to meet an unknown woman and spend a wonderful night together.

But now, he was left in Hogwarts, and the stink bomb smell on his body might take several days to dissipate.

"It seems that it has gone too far." Robert laughed dryly, "That is a major matter of Mr. Filch's marriage."

Fred said nonchalantly, "No way, we must keep it secret now, and we must not let Professor McGonagall know about this..."

"Mr. Weasley, what is it you don't want me to know?" The three of them stiffened and looked back. They saw Professor McGonagall pouting with a serious expression, as if she was very unhappy.

The little wizards shrank their necks and lowered their heads, not daring to look into Professor McGonagall's eyes.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Leslie, come to my office." After Professor McGonagall finished speaking, she walked to her office.

The three of them didn't dare to talk nonsense and hurriedly followed.

"So, three gentlemen, you placed dung bombs and stink bombs in Mr. Filch's room, and caused Mr. Filch to become comatose?" Professor McGonagall's face was filled with disbelief. "How many stink bombs did you place? ?”

Fred winced. "Actually, we dropped three dung bombs and one stink bomb."

"Because we know the smell will be very strong, we rarely put two in the same place." George explained, "We don't know why Mr. Filch was unconscious. He was not afraid of the smell before..."

Professor McGonagall glared at the two of them, then turned to look at Robert, "What about you, Mr. Leslie?"

Robert laughed dryly, "Um, Professor McGonagall, you know, I never buy dung bombs or stink bombs."

Professor McGonagall's expression was expressionless.

"...I just put some smooth hairspray on the door..." Robert also started to shrink his neck.

"What?" Professor McGonagall raised her voice.

Seeing that everything was revealed, Robert could only confess honestly, "Smooth scalp care agent, a hair care potion, the kind that is particularly slippery..."

She glared hard at Robert, and the twins gave him a look of admiration.

"So, Mr. Filch fainted because he was unable to open the room and inhaled the stench for too long?" Robert seemed to see Professor McGonagall saying this, and the corner of his mouth couldn't help but twitch. smoke.

It's fair to assume that everyone has taken Potions class, and it's not like they haven't smelled anything uglier than a stink bomb. The reason for Mr. Filch's fainting was a bit too bizarre.

"Okay, gentlemen, given what you have done to Mr. Filch is too..." She thought for a long time but couldn't think of a suitable word. Finally, she gave up and said, "In Filch While sir is in coma, you will be responsible for the night patrol of the castle."

"What?!" the three people exclaimed.

Professor McGonagall's expression was serious, "Remember, each floor must be checked before going to bed. This is a punishment for your naughty behavior!"

The three of them walked out of the office, and Fred said with lingering fear, "I think Professor McGonagall must be very angry that he would ask us to do night patrols..."

"We are professional in night tours, but night patrol..." The two of them sighed in unison.

Robert looked helpless, "I just put on a little hair conditioner..."

Just as he was talking, he heard an angry voice coming from the front, "Leslie!"

Looking up subconsciously, Robert subconsciously wanted to run away, but behind him were the twins, and they were blocked for a moment.

Looking at the extremely angry witch in front of him, Robert stretched out his paw and said hello, "Good evening, Dean..."

"No, Mr. Leslie, I'm very bad." Professor Sprout said expressionlessly, "Miss Barbara wanted to get rid of her acne, so I asked her to squeeze the pimples by herself. Then I Received news that one of my students sent Mr. Filch, the administrator, to the hospital because of a prank.”

"Uh..." Robert had a bad feeling.

"The thick yellow-green solution poured all over Miss Barbara. I think she really doesn't have to worry about acne, because from now on, she needs to worry about whether her entire face can recover before the holiday." Immediately, Sprout The professor smiled and said, "So, Mr. Leslie, for the sake of Miss Barbara, you will be very happy to help me collect all the pus from the Barbo tubers, right?"