Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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On Monday morning, Hufflepuff's first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Compared to the opening week of term, today's lesson was met with much greater anticipation.

After enduring Lockhart's utter incompetence and Snape's grueling tyranny, students were hopeful that as long as Lupin was a reasonably competent and sane teacher, he'd receive high praise. This sentiment was shared across all year groups.

For upper-year students, who had experienced a parade of peculiar professors, Lupin was a beacon of hope. Take, for instance, the hapless professor from two years ago who died brawling in the Three Broomsticks. He had claimed to be an archaeologist but was, in reality, a grave-robber fleeing retribution after desecrating a wizarding family's tomb abroad. Despite his questionable morals, his teaching was passable.

Then there was the drunkard from three years ago who met his end tangled in Devil's Snare. While he was adept at dealing with sewer-dwelling creatures, his lessons often reeked of stale alcohol, leaving students dreading every class.

At Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts professors were given a fair amount of leeway by students—unless they were so abysmal that criticism was unavoidable.

In the classroom, the students chattered animatedly. Each desk was topped with a thick, new textbook. Lockhart's collection of storybooks had been recalled and refunded, with the money deducted from the cost of the new books. Unfortunately, the remaining Galleons didn't go to the students but were sent back to their families, much to the students' disappointment.

Soon, Lupin arrived, wearing the standard black cloak of a Hogwarts professor. His upright posture and gentle smile radiated a quiet confidence as he nodded to the students.

"Good morning," he greeted warmly. "Please put your new textbooks back in your bags. Today, we'll have a practical lesson."

"Professor Snape has shared with me the substantial amount of theoretical knowledge he taught you during his time here. I'll now build upon that foundation with a practical assessment. Don't worry—it won't be too difficult. Everything will be based on what Professor Snape already covered."

"Alright," he continued once the students were ready, "follow me."

Both apprehensive and curious, the students rose from their seats and followed Lupin out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He led them down a long corridor, around a corner, and toward a spot near Filch's office. There, they came upon none other than Peeves, the castle's notorious poltergeist, who was snarling as he wrestled with a suit of armor.

Peeves appeared to be installing a dung bomb launcher, a device that had recently earned him Filch's unrelenting ire. Peeves had given Mrs. Norris an impromptu haircut, which delighted the students but enraged Filch, spurring him into a campaign of relentless pursuit. Though Filch couldn't physically harm Peeves, he had thwarted several of his pranks recently, prompting Peeves to focus his mischief entirely on Filch in retaliation.

"Looks like the twins are on good terms with Peeves," Harry murmured, glancing at the contraption in Peeves' hands. The dung bomb launcher was unmistakably one of the twins' inventions. If Filch stepped out of his office now, he'd likely have an up-close encounter with one of its foul projectiles.

"You might want to aim lower, Peeves," Lupin interjected kindly. "Hitting the ground would suffice. Launching it into Mr. Filch's mouth would be... a bit much."

Showing an unexpected level of sympathy for Filch, Lupin's tone was gentle as he cautioned Peeves to moderate his prank.

Distracted by his battle with the suit of armor, Peeves only turned his attention to Lupin after a delay. Hogwarts' suits of armor, like the castle's portraits, were enchanted, and this particular suit was clearly not a fan of being force-fed dung bombs.

"Lupin the loony, big buffoon!" Peeves suddenly sang in his usual off-key, taunting style. He began gyrating mid-air, his words as absurd as his dance moves. Compared to other professors, Peeves seemed to have even less respect for Lupin.

However, Lupin remained unfazed, his smile calm. "Have you forgotten? Last time your pranks went too far, Professor Dumbledore put you in detention for a month—little shackles, dark room. You couldn't fly out then, could you?"

"That was deliberate!" Peeves screeched indignantly, his voice rising sharply. "I let Dumbledore catch me! Otherwise, that little pip-squeak couldn't have laid a finger on the great Peeves!"

"I was at Hogwarts long before he was even born!" Peeves puffed out his chest, his voice shrill with indignation. He glanced around nervously, as if expecting Dumbledore to appear, then struck a defiant pose when the coast seemed clear.

"Lupin the loony, big buffoon!" Peeves sang again, shaking his rear mockingly and turning away from Lupin.

"Well, negotiations seem to have failed," Lupin remarked with a shrug, drawing his wand. "Sometimes, an over-the-top prank ceases to be funny. If someone truly ends up with a dung bomb in their mouth, they'd probably lose their appetite for a month."

Peeves ignored him, his off-key singing growing louder.

Lupin sighed lightly, then raised his wand. "Here's a useful little spell," he said, addressing the students. "A friend and I developed it back when we were at Hogwarts. It's particularly effective against Peeves."

Oblivious, Peeves continued shoving the dung bomb launcher into the suit of armor's helmet. The enchanted armor creaked in protest but lacked the mobility to fight back.

"Watch closely," Lupin instructed, aiming his wand at Peeves. "Waddiwasi!"

With a sharp whistle, the dung bomb Peeves had balanced on the armor's head shot off like a missile. Though Peeves darted left and right in a frantic attempt to dodge, the projectile pursued him relentlessly, as if guided by a tracking spell.

The dung bomb, about the size of a ping pong ball, might not have been much for a normal-sized person, but for Peeves—barely a foot tall—it was enormous. The bomb collided with his face, squishing against his mouth in a grotesque parody of a kiss.

Though Peeves didn't eat, taste, or smell, the humiliation of his beloved prank turning against him was unmistakable.

"Pfft! Bleh! Ugh!" Peeves sputtered in exaggerated disgust.

Despite the large lump of dung in his mouth, Peeves had clearly been stretched out of shape, yet he still managed to make normal sounds. The mischievous poltergeist continued his efforts, loudly trying to spit out bits of dung, but his mouth was too small, and each attempt only resulted in small, scattered fragments.

The young witches and wizards, already in fits of laughter, were seeing Peeves in a rare state of defeat.

"Peeves is a poltergeist, a prankster who is always ready to play tricks on us, and yet, we can sometimes turn the tables and play tricks on him if we're clever enough," Lupin said with a smile.

"You're not really angry, are you, Peeves?"

"Peh~ Lup~ peh~ Ri~ peh~!" Peeves shouted, his voice full of rage, but his actions were limited to only some half-hearted gestures. A glint of defiance was in his eyes.

"Isn't Peeves a ghost? Why is he a poltergeist?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ghosts can't touch objects, no matter how special they are. Peeves, however, is a physical prankster poltergeist. His hat was made by the former matron, and it's one of his trophies. He used to brag about it all the time. Quite an accomplishment for him, I assure you."

"Of course!" Peeves interrupted, puffing his cheeks. "Peeves the Great tricked the Headmaster, and that fat hag, Euphrasia Moore!"

"Peeves can turn invisible, which is why he sometimes seems like a ghost. He can come and go without leaving a trace," Lupin added, shrugging. With a wave of his hand, he cleaned up the dung fragments scattered around and even gave Peeves a little dental care.

"Don't think I'll let you off the hook, you big fool, Lupin!" Peeves flew around angrily, his beady eyes darting around as if searching for a new target for his mischief.

"Can Peeves actually be caught?" Harry asked, still intrigued.

"Of course, but it's very difficult, especially without magic."

"Do you think you can catch me, little boy?" Peeves grinned mischievously, his eyes fixed on Harry. "Hehehehe~ well, I— Ouch!"

Before Peeves could finish, Harry sprang up, reaching more than two meters into the air to grab the prankster in mid-flight. Peeves tried to dodge, but if he couldn't move fast enough to escape Harry's reach, there was no escaping the grasp of the boy's hand.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Peeves' sinister laughter filled the air, but when he saw Harry's steely expression, he quickly adopted a sheepish grin.

"What were you laughing about?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Before Peeves could respond, Harry squeezed his nose with two fingers.

"Heh! It can stretch!" Harry said, amused.

"Peh—ow!" Peeves yelled as his nose was stretched nearly two feet long before snapping back, causing him to shake his head wildly in an attempt to keep his hat from falling off.

"You little brat!" Peeves growled, genuinely frustrated for the first time in ages. As a prankster poltergeist that had been around Hogwarts for so long, Peeves knew no fear. As long as Hogwarts existed, so would he.

He wasn't scared of Harry or anyone else. He only feared Dumbledore, and that was only because Dumbledore had the ability to imprison him in the little black room—a punishment that made Peeves itch with frustration. He hated being unable to play pranks.

"Who wants to try, huh? Peeves the Great's hand feels nice to grab—so bouncy!" Peeves taunted.

"Who dares?!" he yelled, his eyes narrowing as he targeted Harry.

Before Peeves could finish his taunt, Harry tugged on his hat, pulling it over Peeves' head, completely covering his face. Peeves was left unable to see anything, his usual grin replaced by an enraged expression.

The students, watching Peeves' rare capture, were grinning from ear to ear. They had long been at the mercy of his tricks and mischief, and now that he had been caught, they could only look forward to what came next.

On their way to the practical lesson classroom, Peeves' constant complaints filled the air. The students kept teasing him, although most of their pranks were ineffective. Even tickling his feet with a quill didn't get a reaction, and soon they grew bored. Pranks that had no effect were just failures, and teasing a fool wasn't as fun as it seemed.

"Don't be mad, Peeves," Harry said, grinning. "After class, I'll take you to try something fun. It'll be great."

"Really?" Peeves asked, though his face remained sour, his mind already scheming to turn the tables on Harry.

"I'm not bribing you, Peeves. You can't fool me with that!" Peeves snarled but still obediently bit Harry's thumb, only to find it too hard to bite down on.

"How could I trick you?" Harry teased. "I promise this will be the most fun game you've ever played."

"Though there won't be a beautiful dealer, there will be muscle-bound men giving instructions. It's going to be awesome."

Before Peeves could protest, Harry stuffed him into his pocket, and Peeves was left simmering with frustration.

Lupin led the students into a small, cluttered room, a typical storage area in Hogwarts. Such rooms were common in the school, not because the house-elves were lazy, but because Hogwarts was so enormous that even getting from one classroom to another could take more than two miles. The staff just couldn't keep up with the mess.

The students eyed the room curiously, but before they could investigate further, a loud noise came from an old cupboard in the corner, making the students jump in alarm. Some of the younger students screamed, while others nearly collapsed from fear.

"Professor, is there a ghost here?" Neville asked in a trembling voice, his words only adding to the thick tension in the room.

"Yes," Lupin said calmly, "It's a ghost that likes to scare people."

The young witches and wizards huddled together, especially around Harry, forming a protective circle. Their curiosity was piqued, but fear still lingered in the air.

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(End of Chapter)