"If I were you, Peeves, I'd take that chewing gum out of the keyhole,"
he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to fetch his broom."
Peeves paid no attention at all. He just spat viciously in reply.
Professor Lupin sighed softly and drew his wand.
"This is a very useful little spell,"
he said, turning to the class. "Watch carefully."
Sean studied Lupin closely. He knew this was a rather special spell.
The Launching Charm.
A spell that could send an object flying like a bullet, and one of the rare spells specifically effective against Peeves.
Lupin raised his wand to shoulder height, pointed it straight at Peeves, and said, "Waddiwasi."
Whoosh—the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole like a bullet, straight toward Peeves's left nostril.
But Peeves did a somersault in midair and dodged it.
"You've improved."
Lupin sounded slightly surprised, but he raised his wand again.
Peeves gave a shudder and immediately began cursing under his breath.
Then he swept his gaze resentfully across the whole group of wizards and finally spotted the special one among them.
"Mr. Green—ah, there you are, I've been looking for you forever—"
Peeves's voice turned into a syrupy, fawning tone none of the students had ever heard from him before. Even Lupin stopped mid-spell.
Sean watched as Peeves drifted toward him, then came to a properly respectful halt at a not-too-close, not-too-far distance.
That left the other students looking rather baffled.
Peeves was being this—
"You were looking for me?"
Sean asked in surprise.
"Yes—oh—no, not me, it's the Baron, the Baron wants to see you—"
Peeves's face twisted into a knot.
"I see."
Sean looked thoughtful.
"Heh-heh, I've done the job the Baron gave me—"
Peeves let out an exaggerated cackle, then made a face at Lupin and dived through the floor.
"I'll be back, you great idiot Lupin—"
His voice still echoed around them.
Lupin flicked his wand, and something shot after Peeves with a sharp swish. A moment later, they heard Peeves's voice go shaky and rise an octave.
"Brilliant, sir!"
Dean Thomas laughed and said admiringly.
"Thank you, Dean."
Professor Lupin put his wand away.
"Shall we keep going?"
When they set off again, the students looked at the thinly dressed Professor Lupin with newfound respect.
He led them down a second corridor, and as they walked, Hermione asked curiously, "How did you do that just now? Peeves doesn't even listen to professors—"
"A ghost friend helped."
Sean answered after a moment's thought.
"A ghost friend?"
Hermione muttered.
She kept getting the feeling that all of Hogwarts somehow belonged to Sean.
The last time they'd gone into the Hogwarts kitchens, a whole crowd of house-elves had clustered around him at the center;
in the corridors, nine portraits out of ten were happy to greet him;
even Moaning Myrtle in the girls' bathroom would sometimes pop up after overhearing people talking about "Mr. Green."
Sean claimed he had very few friends. Hermione had no idea where the "few" part came in.
They stopped outside the staffroom.
At that moment, Sean was still thinking about Bloody Baron's invitation.
What Bloody Baron wanted was not hard to guess. If he could just be a little braver, Sean would have been glad to help him return to the border between life and death.
But—
where was he?
Peeves had forgotten to tell him.
"Go on in,"
said Professor Lupin, opening the door and stepping back politely.
The staffroom was a long room with wood-paneled walls, crammed with mismatched old chairs.
There was only one teacher inside.
Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair.
As the students filed in, he turned his head, his eyes glittering, a mocking sneer curling at his mouth.
As Professor Lupin came in and reached to shut the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I think I'd rather not witness this."
He rose and strode past the students, his black robes billowing behind him.
At the doorway, he turned back and said, "Lupin, I heard you used to work in a bookshop?"
Lupin raised an eyebrow. "I was employed by a highly respected wizard."
he said.
"You'd better spend the rest of your life teaching at Hogwarts, Lupin.
Otherwise you'll find that no other shop will ever take you in again."
Snape's mouth twitched as he stared at Lupin coldly.
"That is hardly for you to decide."
Lupin replied evenly.
Snape said nothing more. He shot the young wizard a look that plainly said, I'll settle accounts with you later, then slammed the door shut.
"Right, then."
Professor Lupin glanced at Sean first, then motioned for the class to move toward the far side of the room.
There stood an old wardrobe, where the teachers kept their spare robes.
Lupin went over to stand beside it. The wardrobe suddenly shook and began thumping itself against the wall.
"There's no need to worry,"
Professor Lupin said calmly when several students leapt backward in alarm.
"There's a Boggart inside."
Most of the students felt that was absolutely something to worry about.
Neville looked at Professor Lupin in outright terror, while Seamus Finnigan stared nervously at the wardrobe handle as it rattled.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,"
said Lupin.
"Wardrobes, the gap under a bed, the cupboard under a sink.
This one just moved in yesterday afternoon. I asked the Headmaster to let the staff keep it for my third-year students to use in a practical lesson."
Professor Lupin's class wasn't all that different from what Sean had imagined.
The moment his mind relaxed even a little, his attention drifted away on its own.
Quite a few people had passed along quite a few messages to him these past few days.
Professor Trelawney had said his Inner Eye was about to open.
Peeves had told him Bloody Baron was looking for him.
And Professor Snape also—
Sean turned rather stiffly toward Professor Lupin, who was now instructing Neville:
"The spell to repel a Boggart is very simple, but it takes strong willpower.
You see, what truly finishes off a Boggart is laughter.
What you need to do is force it to take on a shape you find ridiculous,"
said Lupin.
"Neville, it's your turn now."
The wardrobe shook again, but Neville was trembling even harder than it was.
Neville shuffled forward, looking as if he were walking to the gallows.