Hazy Days and Magical Ways

by Dogger807


Chapter 10: Snapshots of the Day

Fame might be fleeting; fate might be fickle, but even in a castle overflowing with magic, some things seemed inevitable. The coming of the dawn was one such event. The grumbling of schoolchildren suffering from circadian arrythmia was another. As was their wont, the Gryffindor herd exemplified the latter as they trudged toward the Great Hall to break their fast, trailed closely by Magah in her human form.

“I wish Fay‘d let me take my hawk to classes,” Dean grumbled for the fourth time that morning. “She lets Sweetie take her unicorn.”

“First of all, I don’t really have a choice in the matter,” Sweetie said. “And second, Magah can transfigure into a human when she wants. Your hawk can’t. Besides, you just got him last night.”

“Why can’t he?” Luna questioned.

“Can’t he what?” Lavender asked.

“Become a human,” Luna answered.

“That’s a good question.” Harry mused. “Hermione, can we do that?”

“That might not be possible,” Hermione said. “Magah is a magical creature, but Speedo is a normal bird. He might not be capable.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try,” Scootaloo said, still disappointed by the lack of vampire bats.

“Cutie Mark Crusader animal trainers!” declared Seamus.

“YAY!”

“Put it on the to-do-list, Parvati,” Apple Bloom instructed.

“On it,” Parvati said, reaching into her school bag. She was quite proud of the planner Hermione had given her for Christmas. Granted, each of the herd had gotten the same, but she was the one who was interested in that level of organization. “Do you want to do that before or after figuring out how to get back into the restricted section, now that Professor McGonagall has told Philomena not to flame us there anymore?”

“We’ll take a vote on it later.” Apple Bloom shrugged.

“We wouldn’t need to figure that out if Ron could learn to keep quiet,” Ginny grumbled.

“It was a big spider!” Ron protested.

“You scream like a little girl,” Seamus countered.

“Do not.”

“Do too,” Seamus insisted.

“Look! It’s the sticky, icky, little firsties,” said a cackling voice, interrupting the argument.

“Peeves!” the members of the herd all cried out, skidding to a halt as a translucent form drifted up out of the floor. The castle’s lone poltergeist had decided to put in an appearance; his penchant for pulling pranks sprang to the forefront of everyone’s minds.

“Bad Peeves!” added Magah.

“Um,” Abagail said warily as the menacing spirit reached under a rug and gave a hidden rope a tug. “Where’s the barrel full of sap that’s normally sitting in that alcove?”

*Sploooosh!*

“It’s up there,” Harry said, pointing upward without looking.

“It’s empty now,” Luna added, also not looking up.

“Bath time!” Magah gleefully said, starting to remove her sticky dress.

“Magah! Wait until we get back to the trunk!” Neville cried out.

A typical schoolchild would have been outraged by the delay in breakfast. Apple Bloom, however, barely raised an eyebrow as she led her herd back to the dormitory. Her experiences as a Cutie Mark Crusader had drilled into her that certain things are inevitable.


Zecora soaked in the din of the Great Hall as she looked up from her mushroom omelet and peered at one of the long tables. Satisfied that she wasn’t mistaken, she turned to Flitwick and asked, “Surely, I know I am new and don’t think anypony is slacking, but am I the only one worried over what that table is lacking?”

Professor Sprout put her goblet back on the table after taking a sip. “You mean the Gryffindor first-years? I hear they had a messy encounter with Peeves. I suspect they’ll be along shortly.”

“A messy encounter you say?” Zecora poked her omelet with her fork. “Was sap involved in any way?”

“They had that problem before they got here?” Flitwick asked, “I knew those barrels in the hallways would be troublesome.”

“They do seem fond of bathing in the stuff,” Professor Goodman opined. “It happens way too often to be coincidence.”

“Okay, I’m just going to say it.” The obviously frustrated muggle studies professor broke in. “What’s with the llama?”

Professor McGonagall let out a defeated sigh. “I’ve received several requests from my lions to keep unorthodox pets. It would seem that they hadn’t waited for permission before acquiring them.”

“But, but, but,” the muggle studies professor sputtered. “a llama?”

“It’s no worse than a unicorn,” Professor McGonagall admitted. “I’m more worried about the octopus.”

“That’s real?” a surprised Berrytwist exclaimed. “I thought it was just a cleverly charmed hat.”

“There are some clever charms involved,” Flitwick commented. “Both a moisturizing charm and a breathing charm to keep it comfortable.”

“But, a llama!” the muggle studies professor repeated. “Can you imagine the sort of mess it makes?”

“Don’t worry,” Professor Sprout said. “The elves will take care of that detail. I’ve even asked them to move all they find to the compost piles. Free fertilizer is free fertilizer, after all.”

“Elves?” the muggle studies professor asked. “We have elves?”

“Who did you think keeps the castle clean?” Professor Goodman asked.

“I thought Filch's role had a lot more depth than he was displaying,” the muggle studies professor admitted.

“Speaking of,” Berrytwist said. “What exactly is his job, anyway?”


Rainbow Dash looked up from the letter she had been reading to address the others around the breakfast table. “That didn’t take long. The crusaders have detention for sneaking into the restricted section of the library.”

“That was quick.” Sirius gave a proud smile. “We didn’t manage to get in there until our third year.”

“We could have gotten in year two if you’d had listened to me.” Remus grumbled.

“They have a restricted section.” Twilight gasped. “Why? How are students supposed to study if knowledge is restricted?”

“Don’t they have a restricted section at the Canterlot library?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Not to mention the private collections of the Royal library?”

“Those were really annoying until I learned to teleport.” Twilight pouted.

Andi and Ted Tonks gave her twin incredulous looks.

“Don’t worry.” Broke in Pinkie Pie. “Any books she sends the foals have to go through Professor McGonagall first.”

There was more than one sigh of relief at that declaration.

“Anyhow.” Rainbow said returning her gaze to the letter. “Professor McGonagall wants to know if we have a way to restrict the Crusaders’ mobility. The castle wards can’t stop Philomena and she thinks an unlimited travel range might be too much for first years.”

“Does she want to send Philomena back to the princess?” Pinkie asked.

“That’s not going to happen.” Twilight said.

“Why not?” Andi asked.

“Philomena may be Princess Celestia’s pet, but there is a familiar bond between her and Sweetie.” Twilight said.

“Why would the Princess allow that to happen?” Remus asked. “I would think that she’d want her own bond with the phoenix instead.”

“Princess Celestia keeps a phoenix as a pet because, frankly, they live for a long time.” Twilight said. “However, a familiar bond between a bird of fire and the alicorn of the sun wouldn’t be wise.”

“Really?” asked Ted. “Why so?”

Twilight fixed him with a look. “It would be bad.”

“How bad?”

“Very bad.” Twilight insisted. “Which is why Philomena is not Princess Celestia’s familiar. Besides, Philomena likes to take a familiar every couple centuries or so, according to Princess Celestia. Still, she did mention she could ask Philomena to limit the foals to the castle until they get older.”

“The kids are going to be disappointed to be leashed like that.” Sirius said. sounding disappointed himself.

“Sirius,” Andi chided. “now is the time to pretend to be a responsible adult.”

“Dun wanna.” Sirius countered.

“It’s probably not worth the time.” Rainbow said. “I give them a week before they figure out some new and ludicrous way of moving around. Taking away their freedom is just asking for them to put some effort into reclaiming it.”

“The wards are capable of stopping every other known method of travel.” Remus reminded her.

“Two weeks then.” Rainbow shrugged. “they’ll be back in the restricted section before the week’s out, though.”

“That’s a tall order.” Andi said. “and they are only first years.”

“Bet ya five bits.” Rainbow challenged.

“You’re on.” Andi said.

“I’m in for three weeks on the greater transport and a month for the restricted section.” Sirius added.

“You’re underestimating them.” Pinkie said. “I’d say less than two days for both.”

“Now you’re just being silly.” Remus said. “one week for the library and three months for the universal movement.”

“Are you people serious?” Ted asked.

“Actually.”

“Shut up, forget I said that.” Ted sighed. “Beginning, of next year for the library and not until fourth year for the apparition.”

“Is anyone else besides me worried that Pinkie just bet on less than forty-eight hours?” Twilight asked.

“I’m more worried that none of you think they won’t pull it off.” said Andi.

“Actually, it might be a better idea to leave it as is.” Remus said. “At least this way Philomena has veto power.”

“Seriously, you people have some ridiculous expectations of those children.” Nissy huffed, entering the conversation for the first time.

“Umm.”

“Must you be triggered every time that word is spoken?” Nissy interrupted.

“Yes.”


The stench of failure filled the tidy shop in Canterlot. Mrs. Brown had been confident in her ability to teach a simple shrinking charm, but her pupil had proven to be incredibly inapt. Magical power was not the problem; if Mrs. Brown were being honest, she'd admit that Mystic Book could easily match her own magical capacity. Fine control was not an issue; the precision with which the mare shaped her crystals rivaled that of a microsurgeon. It didn't take long for the problem to become evident; Mystic Book was completely ignorant of basic magical theory. While the shrinking charm was well within the mare's capacity, she simply did not have the foundation to learn it in what little time Mrs. Brown had to spare.

Mrs. Brown was appalled to learn that such ignorance was normal among the ponies. The levitation spell was a staple that every unicorn learned. Beyond that, few, if any, other spells were learned. They did have their mages, but theirs was not a common pursuit. From a magical standpoint, their society had raw resources in spades, but they lacked the educational infrastructure to fully exploit them. That state of affairs was the very definition of wasted potential. It was a sad fact that the worst among the third-year Hogwarts students outstripped the average adult unicorn in terms of magical versatility.

The flip side of the skill set was that the average adult unicorn's magical aptitude was specialized to a frightening degree. Just by listening to Mystic Book, Mrs. Brown could easily deduce that ponies who had a spell that was backed by their cutie mark made master wizards look like amateurs when the ponies practiced their specialty. The way Crystal Cache was churning out TEIF crystals was proof enough of that.

The young mare's special talent proved to be a godsend. Mrs. Brown had only needed an hour the night before to produce the promised catalog. That artefact had created several stacks of order pamphlets. Mystic Book had dropped off one stack at Flourish and Botts when Mrs. Brown had taken the older mare to purchase two owls for the shop. They hadn't returned to the shop for more than fifteen minutes when the first order had arrived, tied to the leg of an owl. The second owl had arrived just as the first order was being shrunk for transport. The third owl had arrived shortly thereafter; it had brought a request from Flourish and Botts for more pamphlets; their entire stock had sold out at three knuts a piece. Crystal Cache's proficiency at producing finished product had been the only thing that had kept the ensuing mayhem at bay.

Although the shop itself was closed, the activity within was more frenetic than it had been even during the Hearth's Warming rush. As fast as Crystal Cache produced finished crystals, Mystic Book pulled items from inventory and bundled them into packages that Mrs. Brown shrank and attached to delivery owls.

“Tante!” Crystal called out. “We are missing any brut crystals for calibrage C class crystals. This will the last batch I can make.”

“Will be! Oui!” Mystic Book called back. “I shall rush out and purchase more. We are mostly out of packaging boxes and will need those as well.”

“Does that mean we’re taking a break?” Mrs. Brown asked, perspiration clearly visible on her forehead.

“We have no choice,” Mystic Book said, looking at the mound of coins covering the counter. “We must restock our raw materials.” A new owl flew in, landed on the mare's back, and looked around in confusion.

“Good,” said Mrs. Brown. “I need to get back to my own projects. I have some time-sensitive orders to complete.”

The panic was plain on Mystic’s face. “You will be back to shrink packages? No?”

Mrs. Brown shook her head. “I don’t have the time.” Mystic started to speak, but the human woman plowed on. “Don’t worry; my son has recently lost his job due to the downsizing at the Ministry. I’m sure I can convince him to come help you. It’ll get him off that game Lavender bought. He should be out looking for work anyway; it’s not like offers are in short supply.”

“Oui,” Mystic said. “I am really going to have to get a hoof on that shrinking spell.”

“We are short on class H brut crystals too!” Crystal called from the back room.


Professor Weiss looked out over her classroom. She had come a long way in a few short months. No longer was she just a tutor. Like Richard, she was now a full professor. Sure, it meant more commitment, and she now had to deal with students who couldn't care less whether they slept in her class or Professor Binns'. Still, practically anything was an improvement over the ghost's curriculum. It was readily apparent that the children were sick of hearing about the goblin rebellion . . . again.

“Hello, class,” she said as a way of greeting, “and welcome back to History of Magic. As you may have noticed, I shall be replacing your former instructor.”

“All I have to say is, 'I like this way,'” said one of the students in the third row from the back.

“Though we shall surely lose sleep, there will be much knowledge to reap,” said another.

“I’m happy to say this lass will now find her OWLS easy to pass,” a girl in the front row added.

“That is the objective,” Professor Weis acknowledged. “Though I am sad to say that there is a lot of work ahead of us to make up for lost time.”

“Despite the extra work . . . um . . . we see this as a perk,” said another student.

“I can say without any strife, I want more than just goblins' life,” yet another said eagerly.

“I don’t know; I’ll miss the gap. It’ll be a woe to be deprived our nap,” stated a sleepy student.

“There will be no napping in my class,” Professor Weiss said sternly. “I am certain that you all shall adjust.”

“I meant not to complain, this class will surely keep us sane.”

“That is my objective,” Professor Weiss said. “There is just way too much ignorance of the wizarding world running rampant through this school. I mean to remedy that.”

“Please remove the haze from all wizards' ways?” asked a student, grinning.

“There has been a blur of pumpkin orange,” said a voice from the middle of the room. “With a new teacher . . .. Um no . . . that’s not going to work. I’ve got nothing.”

Professor Weiss blinked before asking, “Did the lot of you have potions last class?”

Every student nodded happily.

“It was rather inviting,” said the girl in the front row, “and very exciting.”


This was not going the way he had planned. Dudley looked down at his unchanged matchstick and then back at his arm. How had he managed that? At least he wasn’t the only one who had made the mistake. Hopefully it wouldn’t get them banned from the class. The professor had firmly threatened that any foolishness would get them kicked out with no hope of returning.

“Professor McGonagall!” Dinky raised her own hand, frantically waving it with panic wavering just below the surface of her voice. “We’ve had an accident!”

The stern woman came over, took one look at Dudley’s arm before weaving her wand in a complex manner and muttering under her breath.

With a sigh, Dudley was able to move his appendage once again.

Once she was satisfied, Professor McGonagall turned her attention to Dinky and repeated the process on the young girl’s hair, returning it to the yellow locks with which Dudley had become familiar.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Dudley said, trying to get ahead of any upbraiding that might be imminent.

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips firmly together. “It is I who should apologize, Mr. Dursley,” she said. “I should have foreseen the possibility; after all, it is not unprecedented.”

“I’m not the first to turn my own arm to wood?” Dudley asked hopefully.

“That is not what happened here,” Professor McGonagall said. “Miss Doo, what is the composition of your wand core?”

“It’s unicorn hair,” Dinky said. “Human world unicorn, not a pony’s”

“I see,” said Professor McGonagall. “As I said, this is not unprecedented. I am afraid we will have to work on your aim before you shall be permitted to attempt this exercise again.”


Nymphadora and her herd, in name only, were making the familiar walk to the gryphon restaurant when a shout halted their progress.

“Tonks!” came the voice from above before the instigator landed in front of the group with a thump.

“Wotcher Gordon,” Nymphadora greeted happily. “How’s it going?”

“Quick!” Gordon was nearly hysterical. “You’ve got to hide!”

“What!” Nymphadora exclaimed. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

“No time!” Gordon said quickly. “I sent a letter home! You’ve got to hi . . .”

“Gordon?” yelled the voice of an older woman. “Is that her?!”

Gordon wilted. “Too late.”

“What?” Nymphadora asked as an older female gryphon landed next to Gordon.

“Hello,” the hen said, staring at Nymphadora with unblinking eyes. “A rainbow coat? You must be this 'Tonks' my son has told me so much about.”

“Um . . . Wotcher.” Nymphadora said. “Yes, I’m Tonks.”

“Yes, this is Tonks,” Gordon said hurriedly. “She’s on her lunch break, so I’m sure she’s in a hurry. We shouldn’t bother her, so why don’t we . . .”

“Hush, Gordon.” the hen snapped. “Sit!”

Gordon’s beak snapped shut as his hindquarters connected with the street.

“Good chick,” the hen said. “Now be polite and introduce us.”

“Mom, this is Tonks. Tonks this is my mom. Now I’m sure you’ve got other . . .”

“Gordon,” Gordon’s mother barked as she started circling Nymphadora, eyeing her critically. “Hello dear.”

“Um . . . hello Mrs. Gordon,” Nymphadora hesitantly ventured.

“Mrs. Gordon?” the hen clucked. “No, I’ve never been called that before. Call me Glados.”

“Yes ma’am,” Nymphadora said.

Gordon’s mother gave her a withering look.

“Yes Glados.” Nymphadora hastily corrected.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at,” Glados said, continuing her inspection. “You’re supposed to be able to change your shape, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Another glare followed.

“Yes Glados.”

Well then,” Gordon’s mother said, “let’s see your gryphon form.”

“I don’t have a gryphon form,” Nymphadora countered.

“It’s time you get one then,” said Glados.

Nymphadora looked at the hen before smirking. A ring of flames surrounded her. Then, an exact copy of Glados stood at attention. In Glados' voice, Tonks said, "Huge success."

“That won’t do.” Glados tsked. “My Gordon has issues, but that’s not one of them. First things first, make yourself younger.”

Nymphadora’s metamorphmagus skills came to the front and her image altered.

“Younger means smaller.” Glados said, circling Nymphadora again. “A lighter shade of fur and light blue feathers.”

Nymphadora complied.

“You're doing very well,” Glados said approvingly. “Now golden eyes . . . I said golden, not yellow. I suppose that will work for now; we can tweak it later. Now there is no reason to put off lunch any longer. I’ll just fly ahead. Quit now, and cake will be served.” With those words, she leapt into the air and headed in the direction of the restaurant.

“What just happened?” Clementine had watched the entire encounter with wide-open eyes.

“Poetic justice happened,” Jason said.

“That’s my mom for you,” Gordon grumbled.

Nymphadora turned on Gordon. “What exactly was in that letter?”


Filthy Rich looked up at the sound of his office doors slamming shut. His wife stood on her hind legs, bracing the door with her back and wide-spread forelegs.

“Hello dear,” Filthy said. “How was your trip?”

“Gaaah! Gaaah!” Spoiled Rich sputtered. “Sna! Sna!!! Sna!!!”

“I see you’ve met our newest family member,” Filthy said, plucking a crystal glass off the silver tray holding several of the vessels.

“Whu! Whu! Whu!” Spoiled replied.

“I’m afraid the front hall is the only room in the mansion large enough to hold him.” Filthy poured some apple brandy from a crystal decanter.

“Whu!! Whu!! Whu!!” Spoiled sputtered.

“I’ve contacted some contractors. They’ll build an addition to house him more comfortably.” Filthy held out the filled glass.

Spoiled looked down at the proffered alcohol. “Huh?” she asked smartly.

“He’s Diamond’s new pet,” Filthy said, “quite prestigious from what I understand.”

“YOU HAVE GOT TO LEARN TO SAY NO TO YOUR DAUGHTER!”


Cheerilee looked out over her class. The reduced size was a blow to her ego, a blow easily tempered by the knowledge that several new families were due to move in later that month. Circumstance had dictated that ponies with new skill sets were being enticed to move to Ponyville, not the least of which was psychological care. On top of that, there were rumors of land being surveyed for a training barracks. That meant support ponies would be needed as well. Support ponies meant new families. New families meant new children. New children meant new students. Her worries over becoming obsolete were superseded by the realization that she would probably be requiring an assistant instead.

“Children.” Cheerilee addressed her class. “I have a surprise for you today.”

This got the expected response as every eye in the room locked onto her, and the eagerness became palpable.

“Put your books away and follow me, please,” Cheerilee commanded, watching as the foals eagerly followed her directions.

It was a gleefully galivanting gaggle of grade schoolers that followed her out the door and onto the playground. There they found one of those new humans patiently waiting and holding a broom. Lying in a perfect line on the ground was the town’s own broom collection.

“Don’t stand around woolgathering,” the human with striking yellow eyes snapped, getting instant compliance from the foals. “Find a broom and stand next to it. We haven’t all day.”

“What are you doing here?” Snips asked as he found a broom for himself.

“Your mayor has asked for my services,” the human responded. “She doesn’t want the town’s insurance premiums to go up any higher.”


“Arrrrrgh! Help! Help Peeves! Help Peeves! They’re after me!” The castle’s poltergeist rocketed down the hallway, passing the two adults, screaming his incorporeal lungs off.

“Git back here ya polecat!”

“It’s payback time!”

“Let’s see how you like it!”

“I’ve got a bucket of sap with your name on it!”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Ghostbusters!”

“Yay!”

He was followed closely by a herd of small ponies with murder in their eyes, accompanied by one fully-grown unicorn.

“Should we intervene?” the muggle studies professor asked after the procession had rounded a corner.

“Eh.” Berrytwist shrugged. “What can a bunch of foals do to a ghost anyway?”

“Do we want to find out?”

“Should be interesting,” Berrytwist said. “Now, you were going to ask my advice on something?”

“Yes.” The Muggle studies professor actually blushed. “A beautiful white owl just delivered a stack of letters to me.”

“And?” Berrytwist asked.

“I seem to have acquired some admirers,” the muggle studies professor said. “A fair few, as a matter of fact.”

“So, pick the ones you find appealing and go on a date,” Berrytwist said. “That doesn’t seem too onerous.”

“Well, that’s the problem. Not to be rude or anything, but I don’t find you or your kind appealing in that way. Don’t get me wrong, I think you are cute and most likely cuddly, but that’s as far as it goes.”

“You are dense,” Berrytwist said.

“I beg your pardon.”

“You’ve seen the potions apprentices in the Great Hall, haven’t you?” Berrytwist pressed.

“Of course, I have. I admit they are attractive for their age. However, they are too young for my tastes, professionalism aside.”

“You do realize that they are all ponies.” Berrytwist drawled.

“They are?”

“I would have thought their hair color would have given them away,” Berrytwist answered.

“Are all ponies attractive in human form?”

“I see you’ve figured it out.” Berrytwist began walking away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have the sudden urge to track Richard down.”


The senior prefect looked around the smoke-filled common room, taking note of the upper years putting out flames with spurts of liquid while others cast the charms necessary to minimize the water damage to the precious books.

“Right, then,” he said menacingly. “I don’t care who wants to study this new and exciting ability. No one is to make Sue Li angry around books or other flammable material.”


The senior prefect looked around the smoke-filled common room, taking in the crackling crystal shards and the soot-covered students; a few had wisps of smoke drifting up from their hair. Luckily, the Hufflepuffs' newly gifted telly appeared undamaged.

“Right, then,” he said menacingly. “We’ll be getting help from a Gryffindor who knows how to set this up properly.”


The senior prefect looked around the smokeless common room, taking note of the empty spot that used to contain a comfortable couch. Luckily, no one had been sitting on it during the incident. The green flames hadn’t even left ashes.

“Right, then,” he said menacingly. “I don’t care how cute he is; no tickling the sleeping dragon.”


Raven Inkwell hid her muzzle behind a hoof for courtesy's sake.

Luna, however. was brazenly laughing.

“I hate it when he does that.” Celestia’s voice came from under a comfy-looking couch.


A group of upper-year Gryffindors stood in the Great Hall looking at the newest decoration.

“What’s that?” Angelina was the first to speak.

“HELP PEEVES!”

“Looks like a glass footie ball,” Lee said.

“PEEVES DON’T LIKE THIS!”

“Shouldn’t he be able to phase out of that?” Terisa asked.

“STOP STARING!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s sap mixed in there with him,” Percy said.

“PEEVES’LL BE GOOD!”

“Is anyone else getting tired of being shown up by a bunch of first years?” Alicia asked.

“POOR PEEVES!”

“Why does he always refer to himself by his own name?” Katie wondered. “Hasn’t he ever heard of a pronoun?”

“LET PEEVES OUT!”

“There’s a similar spell in the restricted section,” Fred said.

“We couldn’t pull it off, or we would have,” George clarified.

“BREAK THE BLOODY THING!”

“Why couldn’t you do this?” Terisa asked.

“What were you doing in the restricted section?” Percy demanded.

“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

Ignoring his brother, George said. “We lacked a vital ingredient and couldn’t figure out a working substitute.”

Fay cast a silencing charm on the glass ball. “Oh? What’s that then?”

Fred answered for his twin. “You need three drops of willingly-given unicorn bl . . .” his voice trailed off as realization hit.

“Peeves is so thoroughly buggered,” Lee finished for him.

It was at that point that the first-year Gryffindors entered the hall carrying an assortment of strange items. As one, the older students turned to stare at the new arrivals.

“What?” Scootaloo demanded after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

George looked at the glass ball then back at the younger students and raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t think that the resurrection ritual was the only spell we got from Twilight’s book, did you?” Hermione asked defensively.

“Would I be amiss to give them points for this?” Percy asked Fay, deferring to the senior prefect.

“Two points to Gryffindor for creative spell work.” Fay answered.

“What are you planning to do with that?” Terisa asked, focusing on the objects the herd held in their hands.

“We’re only half done with the whole busting thing.” Seamus said. “We need this stuff to complete the banishing.”

“You’re going to banish Peeves?” Katie asked. “Shouldn’t you ask a professor first?”

“Forgiveness versus permission and all that,” Dean said.

“Nothing! I see nothing!” Fay declared, hurrying from the Great Hall.

Recognizing a cue when he saw one, Percy called out as he trailed after the older girl, “What she said.”

“Married life has changed our brother,” Fred said.

“Too right,” George agreed. “The stick is almost out.”

“Can we help?” Angelina asked eagerly, bringing the conversation back on topic. “There is no way I’m missing out on this.”

“What would that be then?” asked a male voice from behind the group.

More than one student jumped as they turned to behold Professor Goodman and his assistant cum wife.

“We were just planning on taunting a certain poltergeist,” George said, not being a stranger to being caught mid-prank.

“His mother smells of elderberries.” Fred nodded.

Professor Goodman surveyed the students and took note of what the younger ones were carrying. With a sigh, he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No banishing school ghosts.”

“It’s only Peeves,” Abagail objected.

“No,” Professor Goodman said.

“But,” started Sweetie Belle.

“No!” Professor Goodman snapped this time

“Aaaw!” None of the students failed to join in on the disappointed exclamation.

“Just no,” Professor Goodman said as he snatched the globe. “Now move along and get cleaned up; supper starts in fifteen minutes.”

And there was much grumbling as the students filed out.

Berrytwist looked up to study their handiwork. “I knew it would be interesting.”

"Thank you! Thank you!" Peeves said as the sloppy silencing charm was dispelled.

Berrytwist trailed as Goodman left the room. She asked, "Given his reputation, weren't you even a little tempted to leave him with the Gryffindors?"

Huffily, Goodman replied, "Not even for a second."

With relief evident in his voice, Peeves said, "Peeves knew professor wouldn't let children hurt Peeves."

Goodman continued, "There are much older debts to be paid first. I know a few bouncy charms, with those and some transfiguration to a suitably sized classroom; I’ll be teaching you America basketball." An expertly-cast silencing charm cut off a scream that would have given nightmares to even the strongest of heart.