William had just opened his mouth to suggest drying the wet clothes with magic when Adams dragged him away, half-pushing and half-pulling. "Don't bother. Aphra is stubborn. If she says she's a mushroom, she won't budge. Unless Professor Taylor comes personally, no one can convince her otherwise."
"So we're just leaving her there?"
"What's the rush? Professor Taylor will be here any moment."
As Adams predicted, the child's father soon appeared at the entrance to the lounge.
"What is it? Did Aphra get into trouble again?"
"No, no, not at all." Adams waved his hand nonchalantly.
Professor Taylor cast him a skeptical look before pushing the door open and walking into the lounge.
A few minutes later, the sound of wailing and sobbing echoed from inside.
"This is your idea of persuasion?"
William rolled his eyes at Adams. How could a professor have such childish humor?
"Well, everyone's used to it. When Aphra gets stubborn, a scolding is inevitable. There's no point in trying to talk her out of it. Professor Taylor knows how to keep it within bounds, and Aphra never holds a grudge anyway."
***
As they spoke, the lounge door opened again. The little mushroom, who had been crouching in the corner moments earlier, was now being led out by the hand, sniffling and tearful.
"Professor Adams, please watch over Aphra for a moment. I need to track down Peeves."
Professor Taylor's face looked even sterner than when he arrived. Though he barely managed to restrain his expression while entrusting his daughter to Adams, he didn't even bother putting away his wand before striding briskly down the corridor.
"William, you should go check on him. I'll stay here with Aphra. Honestly, I'm not sure if Professor Taylor can handle Peeves."
"You've got to be kidding me," William said, staring at Adams. A fully trained adult wizard losing to Peeves? How could that be?
"Oh, right, I forgot you're new here. Peeves is a school spirit. He's probably been around longer than Professor Binns. Since the day he took up residence in the castle, the caretakers have been trying all sorts of ways to get rid of him, but no one's ever succeeded."
"There's an agreement between the school and Peeves. Professors won't attack him without cause, and in return, he'll respect the professors. But if Professor Taylor is the one picking a fight, that's outside the bounds of the agreement."
Wait a minute! William suddenly remembered a card he had acquired earlier.
That card, filled with tiny, dense text, had mentioned Peeves—half of the description detailed his so-called "glorious deeds."
If the information on that card was accurate, dealing with Peeves might truly be a tricky matter.
"Alright, I'll head over now," William nodded in agreement. He reached into his pocket, pulled out some chocolate, and crouched to hand it to the little girl who was still sniffling.
"Peeves…" William muttered to himself as he briskly walked through the corridor. He tried recalling the recent information he had read about Hogwarts. Strangely, very few books mentioned the mischievous spirit.
"This isn't a good sign," he murmured under his breath.
The fact that Peeves wasn't documented in detail didn't mean the spirit was unimportant. Quite the contrary; it likely meant that, to date, no one had found an effective way to deal with him. And since Peeves hadn't committed any heinous acts, there wasn't enough cause to dedicate extensive records to his mischief.
****
"Excuse me, Ma'am, could you tell me where Peeves is?" William asked a painting of a woman leisurely drinking in an oil portrait along the hallway.
"Peeves? Professor, has the school decided to expel him again? Another professor just asked me the same thing earlier. He's in the kitchen looking for moldy bread. I hope you're successful this time… Last time, he nearly hit my portrait with a loaf of bread!"
The emphasis on "again" made William nervous. For a spirit as cunning and resourceful as Peeves, Professor Taylor's impulsiveness could be a problem.
Most ghosts are remnants of wizards, imprints left behind in the mortal world.
To deal with a ghost, one must target the memories they hold dear. Peeves, constantly mingling with other ghosts, likely values pranks above all else. If his pranks can be disrupted, he might lose interest and retreat.
If Peeves is truly as formidable as the card described, then perhaps one of his past pranks was too powerful to stop. That might have forced the school to offer him concessions. Then again, it's unclear if this is true—or if the Headmaster at the time simply had a soft spot for the spirit's chaotic humor.'
The core of Peeves' pranks must rely on tools. The spells I'll need should include something to counter flying objects, spells to suspend items mid-air, ones to disarm traps, unlocking spells; And, if all else fails, a charm for a peaceful retreat
Even though William hadn't encountered Peeves yet, he was already formulating plans for various scenarios.
He had some confidence in his combat skills, but he wasn't arrogant enough to think he could easily handle an issue the school had failed to resolve for so many years. After all, he hadn't even mastered nonverbal spells yet.
This should be the kitchen.
Following directions from another painting, William stopped in front of a fruit-themed portrait and tickled the pear depicted in it.
The pear squirmed, giggling, and transformed into a large, green door handle.
William pulled the handle, and the moment the door opened, a moldy loaf of bread came flying toward him. Had he not been prepared, it would have hit him square in the face.
"Thank goodness for the Shield Charm," William muttered as he sidestepped into the kitchen.
****
Inside, chaos reigned.
The entire kitchen was in disarray. A small, wicked-looking creature with sinister black eyes hovered cross-legged in mid-air, its mouth wide open in a maniacal grin. It clutched a basket brimming with moldy bread, using the house-elves below as targets for his impromptu bombing practice.
Is this Peeves? Where's Professor Taylor then?
William didn't have time to ponder further. While he was distracted, the loaves of bread came hurtling toward him like bombs.
"La la la! Another naughty student sneaking into the kitchen! Let Peeves teach you a lesson—this school isn't a free-for-all!"
William quickly drew his wand and cast a Shield Charm to block the attacks. Still, a few pieces managed to slip past and hit the protective barrier with a series of metallic clangs.
The bread wasn't harmful, but it was certainly irritating. In an instant, William understood how this spirit had built such a notorious reputation.
It was like a mop from a filthy bathroom; hardly a weapon, but disgusting enough to make anyone hesitate.
Let's try disrupting the prank, he thought.
While countering the falling bread with defensive spells, William aimed at the basket Peeves was holding.
Bullseye!
The basket exploded, scattering moldy bread erratically through the air. Several pieces smacked Peeves squarely in the face, prompting a string of curses from the mischievous spirit.
Still hurling insults, Peeves darted toward the wall and vanished from the kitchen.
Not as strong as I expected—actually, kind of weak. Maybe it's because the prank materials were just bread this time?
William made a mental note of this observation.
When he turned around, he was met with the stern face of Professor Taylor and the delighted expression of caretaker Filch.
"…"
Professor Taylor, so you went to recruit reinforcements, didn't you?
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