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According to Professor Flitwick, the results of the paper wouldn't be available until the end of the month.
"It has to go through peer review, revisions, and sometimes they'll write to ask for additional materials," Flitwick had said. "But in my personal opinion, you can rest easy. I suggest submitting to The Journal of Charms. It's a bit more prestigious than Wand and Syllable."
Hodge Blackthorn stepped out of the Ravenclaw Head's office and was on his way back to the common room when he ran into Peeves. The castle's resident poltergeist, Peeves thrived on mischief and chaos, always eager to stir up trouble.
Peeves was currently pelting two Hufflepuff students with chalk stubs and ink bottles.
Spotting Hodge, he found a new target. Peeves swooped down, hurling an ink bottle like a cannonball.
Hodge cast a flawless Freezing Charm, encasing the ink—and Peeves—in ice, but the poltergeist broke free almost instantly.
"You managed to trap the great Peeves for a whole second!" Peeves declared loudly.
Then he doubled down, showering more chalk stubs everywhere. Students around him scattered, cursing Peeves, but he only grew more delighted, floating in midair with his legs splayed wide, cackling hysterically.
"What's going on? Why's it so noisy—" Percy Weasley poked his head around the corner, his tone stern as he prepared to wield his prefect authority. A second later, he gasped and ducked back.
A water balloon smashed into the spot where his head had just been, bursting with a bang and spraying water everywhere.
"Peeves!" Percy reappeared, shouting angrily. "Get out of here, or I'll report you to a professor—or the Bloody Baron!"
Peeves cackled, mimicking Percy's haughty tone.
"Ooooh," he drawled, "Prefect's gonna tattle! Prefect's gonna run to Mummy!"
Furious, Percy bellowed, "I'm fetching the Bloody Baron right now!" He stormed off toward the stairs. Peeves made a rude face, then zipped into a nearby suit of armor and vanished.
Percy surveyed the mess with a frown, then pointed his wand at the floor. The chalk stubs and ink stains disappeared. He walked over to Hodge.
"Percy, long time no see," Hodge said.
"Hello, Hodge," Percy replied. "How've you been?"
"Not bad," Hodge said. "Classes, extra lessons, wandering the castle… overall, pretty normal, aside from that exciting first day."
"Wandering the castle isn't a good habit," Percy said seriously. "But I should thank you for saving Ron and the others. I mentioned it in a letter home, and Mum and Dad were very grateful. They were busy looking after Ginny at the time—oh, she's the youngest Weasley."
"Your twin brothers already thanked me. Twice, actually."
Hodge was referring to how Fred and George had shared the secrets of two hidden passageways in the Potions office, but he figured Percy wouldn't want to hear those details.
At the mention of the twins, Percy's internal alarm bells went off.
"You're not mixed up with them, are you?"
He spun around, as if expecting the troublesome twins to be lurking nearby. Then he noticed the traces of Hodge's spell. With a stern look, he said, "You've been casting spells in the corridor?"
Hodge was floored. "That was self-defense! Didn't you see what Peeves was doing? You're not seriously going to take points, are you?"
Percy considered this for a long moment.
"Fine, I'll let it slide this time," he said, his tone implying he was doing Hodge a massive favor. It reminded Hodge of when Percy had guided him through Diagon Alley, lecturing nonstop about how to be a model student.
To be fair, those tips were somewhat useful—if Hodge had any interest in becoming the kind of perfect student Percy envisioned.
"How's your path to Head Boy going?" Hodge asked, thinking of Peeves calling him "Prefect."
"Going quite well," Percy said pompously.
"I've got to run—Astronomy class," Hodge said, nodding toward the crowd of onlookers where he spotted Terry Boot. After a few steps, Percy called after him, "Remember, no spellcasting in the corridors! Next time, I'll take points, no matter the reason."
Hodge quickened his pace.
Once they were a safe distance away, Terry asked, "That's Ron's brother? They're nothing alike."
"Their family's got seven kids," Hodge said.
"Blimey, that's enough for a Quidditch team," Terry said, shaking his head.
Speaking of Quidditch, Terry started lamenting Ravenclaw's upcoming match schedule. Aside from Michael Corner, who remained optimistic, everyone in their dorm thought the team's prospects were grim.
"Quidditch has never been Ravenclaw's strong suit," Anthony Goldstein whispered to them.
Ravenclaw had a passionate team, of course, but their trophy cabinet was nearly empty. They didn't have Hufflepuff's sheer numbers, Gryffindor's storied Quidditch tradition, or Slytherin's deep pockets, always flaunting the latest broomsticks.
Lately, Slytherin's players seemed suspiciously burly, as if they'd been overfed.
"Even Gryffindor winning would be fine," Terry muttered as they entered the Ravenclaw common room.
His sentiment echoed most of Ravenclaw's feelings.
Indeed, Ravenclaw—along with Hufflepuff and Gryffindor—desperately wanted to see the Quidditch Cup change hands from Slytherin, who'd dominated for years.
At that moment, a tall boy called out to Hodge. "How's Waffling's manuscript going?"
It was Shackle, whom Hodge had met at the Midnight Assembly. Hodge had attended twice more since, though Terry wanted nothing to do with it.
"Really enlightening," Hodge said, giving him a thumbs-up.
"I know even more theories—I'm really into this stuff," Shackle said enthusiastically. "Maybe we could start a club… nah, forget it. I'm interning at the Ministry next month, dealing with beasts. I doubt they care about anything written on parchment."
"Beasts?" Anthony, always keen on career talk, sidled over.
"The Beast Division," Shackle explained. "Part of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They sent me a letter."
"Does that include collecting Invisible Beast fur?" Terry asked curiously.
"I hope not," Shackle said glumly.
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