𝐢. 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂 ; harry j. potter ( UNEDITED )

004. "i have some wine and recite an old tale of us"

One by one they jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps as fast as they could, not wanting to get soak from the rain as much as they already were, and only looking up when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall and its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak — ARRGH!" A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded, missing Lucia by just a few inches.

Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped — narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of freezing water over his sneakers into his socks as another bomb was set above of Lucia unknowingly, drenching her robes and tidied hair immensely.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Above them was the floating poltergeist of Hogwarts that craved of mischief: Peeves. Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling. "Ouch — sorry, Miss Granger —"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves —"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Word of advice, Professor," Lucia began as she wringed water from her hair, "perhaps you should use the headmaster's name to scare him — or even the Bloody Baron would suffice. He's terribly afraid of them." She added with a sweet smile.

"I'll take that into consideration next time, Miss DiFiore," Professor McGonagall sighed exasperatedly She then turned to the bedraggled crowd and held a strong and stern stare at them before speaking sharply as per usual, "Well, move along, then! Into the Great Hall, come on!"

The moment they slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, the sweet smile disappeared from her once soft features as she mumbled curses under her breath, complaining to herself about her soaking appearance.

"When I see that bloody poltergeist again, I'll make sure he'll regret..." she muttered, clenching her fist, glaring ahead.

And she wasn't alone, as Ron, too, was muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils.