"Even when handing out detentions, Hufflepuffs are far too fair," I grumbled.
Remus raised an eyebrow at me. "How can someone be too fair?"
Oh, he wouldn't get it. It was a thing, okay?
"She just was."
That sounded so childish but, honestly, it was hard to explain.
"This is Professor Sprout," Sirius said dismissively. "How bad could one of her detentions be?"
I folded my arms.
"Did you ever earn a detention from her?"
Remus and Sirius shuddered.
"No way," Sirius said emphatically, shaking his head for good measure.
"We made the mistake of angering Hufflepuffs once," Remus added, a faraway look in his eyes. "Never again."
"We wouldn't even have contemplated angering Professor Sprout after that," Sirius said solemnly.
I wasn't sure whether I wanted to know the story behind that or not. Oh, of course I did? What sort of question was that?
"Well, you should know that her detentions were pretty bad," I informed them.
"Because they were too fair?"
I glared at Remus, not appreciating his tone.
"Exactly."
Being fair really sucked. That was Tonks' constant thoughts as she was cleaning. Because fairness in Hufflepuff House meant that any mess made by students was kept for them to clean up. Professor Sprout stuck the mess behind a protective ward to keep it safe until the student came to detention. This way the House Elves knew to steer clear. How Professor Sprout managed to get the little creatures to do that, Tonks didn't know because she was pretty sure it was a matter of pride for them to clean whatever they could.
Either way, she had an annoyingly large bit of corridor to clean. All roped off and everything.
"I want this just as it was before," Professor Sprout had instructed her, handing her a bucket of cleaning supplies.
Tonks had pointed out that there was no water in said bucket to help her with the cleaning she had to do. She had been informed that it was a magic bucket that filled itself with water when it was empty. Sure enough, as soon as she took the soap, polish and brushes out, the bucket had filled itself. With cold water. Because of course it did. Couldn't have your detainee in any way comfortable, could you?
Looking up and down the corridor in dismay, Tonks tried to figure out where on earth she should start. Apparently, dungbombs had an impressive range. Tonks thought she could see some of the residue on the ceiling. How was she supposed to get at that? She hoped it didn't drip on her, she could smell enough of the dungbombs, thank you very much. She kind of wanted to get out of this without any getting on her. Hopefully.
With a sigh, she grabbed the biggest scrubbing brush of the three left to her and dunked it into the water. Time to get scrubbing she supposed.
Scratch that. She'd been at this for over an hour and she was pretty sure that the stinking (quite literally) water was all over her. Did you know what you got when you combined wet floors with a clumsy person? An impressive slide down the hall and a soaked front. She might have been a bit too enthusiastic with her use of the water. Also, the smell of soap, bleach and dungbombs was not a nice smell, Tonks discovered. It just wasn't. That, and she was pretty sure it produced toxic fumes. The smell was just that nasty.
On the plus side, the floor was mostly clean. She had used a terrifying amount of rags in her effort not to touch the dungbomb residue but the floor was clean. Except for the corners. It didn't want to budge from the corners.
Speaking of not wanting to budge, the next time she did anything with dungbombs, Tonks was going to make sure that it was far, far, far away from any suits of armour. Why did the damn things have so many nooks and crannies? And, of course, the mess got into every last one. It was just disgusting. And just plain awkward. The suits of armour didn't look too good either. She was pretty sure that the cleaning fluid she had been given for the floor and walls (and ceiling eventually) were not suitable for whatever metal suits of armour were made out of. Her cleaning, although leaving it free of dungbomb, made the metal cloudy instead of their usual impeccable shine. Filch was definitely going to notice that. But she couldn't help it. At least you could see the metal now. Sort of.
What was also disgusting was the fact that it was all under her nails. It squelched and it oozed and it was all together not a nice feeling at all. The kind to give you the shivers when you felt it. Definitely not nice. This is what she got for listening to her mum about not biting her nails. Plenty of space to trap dirt under. Tonks shuddered at the thought of cleaning the dungbomb residue from under them. She hoped it didn't harden because the thought of scraping it out made her want to gag. Like she had wanted to do all evening.
That was all she could smell. Dung. Like, she had been aware that they were called dungbombs for a reason but she never thought that the smell would be that bad. It wasn't. It was a hundred times worse than whatever she imagined. Even worse than the smell from her bathroom at home after they ate Indian food for the first time. Vindaloo was not her dad's friend.
The smell was everywhere. Besides her, in front of her, deep in her nose. Tonks seriously thought that she was never going to be able to smell anything else ever again.
"It turns out I never got all the dungbomb remnants from the suit of armour," I finished. "Couldn't reach all of it without taking it apart."
"And that's a sure what of getting another detention," Remus added.
"Exactly. There was always a bad smell around there for the rest of my time at Hogwarts."
How was that for a legacy? The girl who made the corridors stink. Thankfully, that was only really with the Hufflepuffs. Being a Metamorphmagus was enough to give me a different reputation with the rest of the school.
"Nice," Sirius said in an impressed voice.
"Padfoot!"
"What? For a dungbomb prank, that was good!"
"You shouldn't encourage her!"
"You do realise that I'm no longer in school?" I interrupted. "You can't exactly encourage me anymore."
Remus floundered for a moment as he tried to come up with something.
"Well, he still shouldn't be encouraging bad behaviour."
Sirius just rolled his eyes at me. I returned the sentiment.
"Vicks under your nose blocks most nasty smells," Remus said, very obviously trying to change the subject.
I nodded in agreement. "Yep, figured that out eventually."
After a lot of trial and error but I was not going to mention that any time soon. The memory of toothpaste actually going into my nose was still a painful one for me. Literally and figurative. I swear there was still a raw patch in my right nostril. The things you do to be creative with dungbombs.
