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Clowning Around: A Poltergeist's Piece by Hermione713
Chapter 1 : Peeves
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 16

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Disclaimer: It's all the property of JKR and whoever else has rights to it...sadly, I'm not one of those people. Ah well...I'm just having fun with this; no copyright infringement intended! :)

Author's Note: Hey there! This was a random idea that popped into my head when, on one of my frequent browsing sprees of the archive, I realised that there are very few stories about my favourite poltergeist! (Not that I know many...) Here's to Peeves; enjoy!

Hello. Beware of my power, first years. Love from Peeves the Poltergeist.

Hmmm. Somehow that doesn’t look right. Well, not that it matters; Filth-meister Filch will probably have that scrubbed off the walls before the little twerps arrive, anyways. That’s a downside of welcoming new students with messages daubed on the walls—though I will admit, it’s more fun to waste the ink stolen from professors than to wait for the Bloody Baron to take it back…right nasty sod, he is. No sense of humour at all.

Just kidding! He actually smiled the other day—almost made his face crack. I think it was because I confiscated Sir Completely-Brainless Nick’s ruffles. Nearly had a conniption, he did. He chased me twice round the Great Hall before Professor Dumbledore made me give them back. Shame. I wanted to stuff them in Professor Snape’s underwear drawer. Ah, well, he got water balloons over the door instead. Looked a tall, dark, drowned water rat by the time I was done with him. Bit of an improvement, really, I’ve no idea why he was so upset.

Pity he was the only one I had completely furious that day. My record’s six, for the summer, at least. When there’s only the rare professor, the pickings are slim and they’re harder to get; though, in all honesty, stealing almost every stitch of clothing they own has its merits. Ah, the screams after they open their wardrobes…needless to say, their pajamas make a good talking point at breakfast, especially when I’ve improved them a bit the day before.

The Divination Ditz is a good source of lace for my additions…you should see some of her scarves! Well, what used to be scarves. As far as I know, they’re still the wonderfully itchy cuffs, collars, and bows that now decorate nightshirts hidden in the very bottom of several drawers. Unfortunately, that’s where the teachers got smart and put charms on them; I would’ve hung them in the Great Hall during the school year if I’d had the chance. Maybe I could even get a few students to help me…the Weasley twins would be great.

Good lads, Fred and George. Them and their friend Lee Jordan, they’ll go far in life. They’ve got a sunny disposition and a knack for tricks, to boot. I would swear they’re poltergeists if I didn’t know better. It’ll be a sad day for Hogwarts when those three walk out the doors—hope I can keep up with them until then. They spend more time roaming the halls looking for trouble than in the studying in the library. Exactly as it should be, in my opinion.

The library—now there’s a prime place for a prank. Books everywhere! All waiting innocently to be dropped on some oblivious bystander’s head. Poor Prune-face Pince…it would explain a lot, though perhaps not her obsession with that centuries old feather duster. I think it was around before Dumbledore was alive, even. Wish I could get him, but he’s the only one that can expel me, see…got to keep my nose clean around him. Relatively clean, at least. He’s not above getting pink, lacy pajamas yet.

His deputy headmistress is another matter…what a dear old lady; I can always count on her for an irate reaction. A few weeks ago, I shut her inside a suit of armour, and covered by saying I thought she was Mrs. Norris…well, you can guess how that went over. She called Filch immediately, which wasn’t really a good thing as he was mopping up Professor Sprout’s dragon dung that I’d dumped the length of the fifth floor corridors, and ended up getting a face full of it…Sadly, she cleared it all up with a charm, but I spent a happy afternoon floating out of spell range as she chased me in and out of classrooms.

The portraits are always very helpful. Actually, I shouldn’t say always, because there’s that one giraffe that panics and stampedes the rest of the pictures whenever I come near it, but he doesn’t really count. What was I saying? Oh, yes. The portraits. They’re the best liars I know, including that self-proclaimed Occlumens that never goes above the first floor. Dead useful when it comes to asking them to cover for me. It’s really quite amusing how they can always get Filch to go to the place farthest away from where I am…well, provided that mangy cat of his isn’t looking for me.

Speaking of which, I believe that’s him coming now. No one else I know in this castle says my name quite like that. That’s probably why I try to annoy him the most. Chaos and misery are music to my ears…hmmm, maybe I should swoop around Myrtle’s bathroom more often from now on. She’s always moping about something…

Wow, that’s a convenient little niche. Filch’ll never find me here…ugh, something else did, though. Oh. Never mind, they’re just bottles of cooking sherry. Hmmm…maybe I can give them to that one house elf, Winkles, or whatever her name is. I owe her something since I stole her butterbeer last month—she put the rest of the elves off their cooking with all that wailing.

The house elves are kind of boring. I mean, you scare them once, and then the thrill is gone, really. Throwing pots and pans can only get you so far with them. I tried to offer them clothes once, but the same one keeps taking them all. Dobby, that’s it! He’s a funny little guy. I take fashion advice from him, you know. Sadly, I don’t have his ears, so the tea-cozy hat doesn’t work for me…it sort of does for Professor McGonagall, though. A lot of superglue can work wonders; she really didn’t need to be so mad at me. I just wanted to give her a new hat to make up for the armour what if it could have been permanent?

Uh-oh. That’s her now. I probably shouldn’t get on her bad side yet today, seeing as I have some chewing gum I want to use to plug her quill…

Not doing nothing, Professor!


Author's Note: Please let me know what you thought, even if you hated it. I enjoy constructive criticism and would like to know how to improve my writing! Thanks. :)

Oh, one last thing: Don't worry about Maturity is Over-rated, it's not abandoned. Chapter nine's just taking a while. ;)

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