By the next morning, the entire castle knew exactly who was responsible for yesterday's chaos.
The atmosphere in the Great Hall crackled with tension — half outrage, half reluctant amusement — as the story of the year's most catastrophic prank rippled through every House table. Students whispered, pointed, and exchanged knowing glances.
At the Gryffindor table, Fred, George, Lee, and Cael sat shoulder to shoulder, veterans of the noble war they'd unleashed. Survivors, and, judging by the glares from the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, the architects of considerable psychological damage.
The smell had been beyond words — a noxious blend of rotting cabbage, troll sweat, and some unholy potion ingredient no one dared identify. Half the Slytherin team had nearly fallen off their brooms, gagging mid-air. Even the Ravenclaws couldn't keep their heads straight, leading to the most chaotic, foul-smelling Quidditch disaster Hogwarts had seen in years.
Naturally, Gryffindor loved every second of it.
Especially Oliver Wood. Once he realized it was his own House behind the stunt, he'd marched over, grinning like a madman, and hugged each of them as though they'd just won the Quidditch Cup itself.
But alongside the celebration came the criticism… and the whispers.
"They're mental," a Ravenclaw girl muttered at her table, shooting daggers at the four Gryffindors.
"I heard the stink bomb made twenty-three Slytherins pass out," a boy in blue robes whispered, eyes wide with a mix of horror and admiration.
Over at the Slytherin table, venomous stares simmered like poison.
Frey, pale-faced and still recovering, sneered as he leaned toward his brother, Colby.
"They should've been expelled," Frey hissed. "If I'd done it, I'd be hexed to next week."
"You almost were hexed," Colby replied dryly. "You gagged so hard you looked like a Mandrake getting yanked out of a pot."
Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, it was all smirks, toast, and pumpkin juice.
George raised his glass. "Whatever it was, it was worth it. We're legends now."
Fred grinned. "And we've officially set the bar impossibly high for the next prank."
Lee laughed, shaking his head. "Professor threatened to pull me off commentary for the next match if I pull something like that again."
Fred clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax. There's no better commentator than you, and McGonagall knows it. No way she lets anyone outside Gryffindor near that mic."
Katie Bell slid into the seat beside them, eyes sparkling with pride. "The look on Flint's face? Worth every detention slip."
Angelina Johnson chuckled. "McGonagall nearly cracked up, I swear. Even the Ravenclaws had to admit it was… innovative."
Cael shrugged with a smirk. "The things we do for House pride."
"Not bad for your first proper Gryffindor stunt," George teased.
Fred elbowed him. "You've got real potential, mate. Future in organized mischief."
"So this was my official welcome, then?" Cael grinned, sipping his pumpkin juice.
In the back of his mind, the System's voice chimed in, laced with mockery.
"And this comes from the same boy who whined about the quest I gave you… Where's that model student now? You're a full-fledged troublemaker."
Cael rolled his eyes, ignoring the jab. He couldn't deny it — he had changed. No longer the boy wandering without direction, he finally knew where he stood — surrounded by chaos, friends, and a Gryffindor scarf, exactly where he wanted to be.
Before they could bask any longer in the glory of House mischief, the air above the Hall filled with the ominous flutter of owl wings. A barn owl swooped down, dropping a bright red envelope squarely in front of Fred and George.
The table collectively stiffened.
Fred's face fell. "Oh, no…"
"Too late," George muttered.
The envelope twitched, hissed, and exploded with a deafening crack, unleashing Molly Weasley's furious voice across the Hall, loud enough to rattle the windows.
"FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY! GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU HUMILIATE THIS FAMILY WITH YOUR RIDICULOUS STINK BOMB NONSENSE AT A QUIDDITCH MATCH!"
Every fork froze mid-air. The Hall held its breath.
"I HAVE OWLS FROM PROFESSORS! PARENTS! EVEN THE HEADMASTER! I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TWO TO TURN HOGWARTS INTO A BOG LATRINE!"
Laughter rippled from the Gryffindor table, barely contained behind hands and napkins.
"WHAT IF YOU'D BEEN EXPELLED? WHAT IF YOU FELL OFF THE STANDS AND BROKE YOUR NECKS? AND WHY—WHY—CAN'T YOU TWO BE MORE LIKE YOUR BROTHER PERCY?"
Fred groaned. George buried his face in his hands.
Percy, preening like a peacock, puffed up his chest, straightened his pristine robes, and beamed. "Mum's right—"
"—And he has the personality of a cauldron bottom," George muttered under his breath.
"BE RESPECTABLE! HARDWORKING! DO NOT TURN SCHOOL EVENTS INTO PUBLIC HEALTH HAZARDS!"
With a final, furious crackle, the Howler burst into a shower of parchment confetti, drifting like snowflakes over the Gryffindor table.
The Great Hall erupted into cheers, applause, and raucous laughter.
Fred reached for his juice. "Think she took that well."
George sighed. "Could've been worse. She didn't mention the toilet incident."
Lee grinned. "Or the one with Frey."
Cael bit into his toast, shrugging. "The morning's still young."
Just as Cael set down his fork, his vision shimmered faintly — a familiar sensation creeping over his senses. The System's voice returned, smug as ever:
"Get ready for your next quest, my N—"
The word cut off, the system bleeping itself out, a sign of rare restraint.
"…Out of respect to my Black brothers and sisters THE WORD WAS CENSORED , SO let's just say: you've got work to do."
A translucent quest window blinked before him:
⸻
Quest: "Room of Answers"
Objective: Locate the Room of Requirement.
Task: Master 10 essential spells to improve your magical arsenal.
Suggested Spells:
• Protego (Shield Charm)
• Lumos (Light Charm)
• Nox (Extinguishing Charm)
• Alohomora (Unlocking Charm)
• Petrificus Totalus (Full Body-Bind Curse)
• Wingardium Leviosa (Levitation Charm)
• Silencio (Silencing Charm)
• Rictusempra (Tickling Hex)
• Obscuro (Blindfolding Charm)
• Muffliato (Muffling Charm)
Reward upon Completion:
• Magical Power +10
• Spell Unlocked: Protego Maxima (Advanced Defensive Barrier)
⸻
"And you always whine about not having overpowered help," the System added smugly. "There you go — OP as it gets. Do the quest. Reap the glory."
Cael exhaled, curling his lips into a crooked smile. "Yeah… after burning my Ass off, all I will be a 'slightly better than most first and second years.' Real generous."
"Everything has a price," the System shot back. "Besides, learning new skills is the real power boost. I just give you the map — you walk the road. Easy peasy."
After some time
Cael leaned back, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A hidden room. New spells. More power… Finally, something productive."
He pushed back his plate, ignoring the lingering noise of the Great Hall, his mind already sharpening with purpose.
Time to find the Room of Requirement.
And this time, the only thing exploding… would be his spell count.