From the day Alistair Yarwood accidentally overindulged on Poisonous Tentacula leaves — and there was no other explanation for what happened... hahaha — he no longer smirked in my direction. I'd even say he started avoiding me.
Before, I'd constantly hear snide comments from him that I had to respond to. Now, it was all quiet and smooth, with only Amanda fraying my poor nerves, trying to "play" with me.
But instead of wasting time pointlessly — and it was pointless, given that after the almost demonstrative punishment of Alistair, no one else particularly tried to test the Malfoy who thought he was above everyone — I focused on more important matters.
By the way, I did overestimate myself a bit, but that's how it should be. And I wasn't meddling in the girls' territory yet. Let Amanda deal with that, if she could ever reconcile with the surprisingly combative Knox.
So, we ended up with a typical Slytherin dynamic. Although, in Professor McGonagall's lessons, she started giving me even fewer points for answers than before. All in all, I came out of that setup with a net gain, if you didn't count my Potions partner.
Right now, the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years were amicably heading to Flying class.
Flying lessons were held every year, but only for a couple of months in the first semester and a couple in the last. Even Quidditch isn't played in the off-season, but here, they adore it.
It's not that I disliked Quidditch. It's quite dynamic once you understand the rules. Did I want to play Quidditch? Well, maybe a couple of times, but becoming a full-time player and spending my time on Quidditch practice was definitely unnecessary.
It's worth remembering that flying isn't just Quidditch; it's also a means of transportation much faster than cars… and there's no traffic… For example, ordinary everyday brooms or old racing brooms could reach speeds of up to 120 kilometers per hour. On average, it was recommended to fly slightly below the maximum speed.
Premium-class racing models, like the Nimbus series, could reach 200 kilometers per hour in literally 10 seconds, with a maximum speed even higher.
And right now, the latest model from the Nimbus Racing Broom Company is the Nimbus 1901. In a couple of years, Harry would get the Nimbus 2000. Nimbus is known for each model being slightly faster than the last.
Although their high-altitude performance isn't as spectacular, for a sports broom and an ordinary user, that isn't really needed.
I called it a sports broom because besides Quidditch, there were many broomstick sports. For example, broom racing, for which no official competitions were held until the last century, and now the magical equivalent of Formula 1 is slowly gaining popularity.
I've also heard that in France, there are so-called broom battles — sort of limited-rules duels at high speeds. However, that's a very young sport, not very popular outside Europe yet.
Despite the cloudiness, the weather generally allowed for practical lessons outside the castle walls. By the time all the first-years had gathered on the grounds, Madam Hooch — yes, Madam, not Professor, because… hello! This is Flying class! — was waiting for us, fussing with some trunks at the edge of the field.
Madam Hooch scanned all the students present, already knowing some by name. We arrived for the practice session brisk and in full "battle" readiness, which made her smile. Despite her attempt to be strict, she lacked the severity of McGonagall or the harshness of Snape. Though she certainly knew how to command.
"Well then, let's begin the lesson! Behind you are racks of brooms. Let everyone take one."
Everyone immediately rushed to the racks, snatching brooms that seemed better than their neighbor's. Although everyone seemed to understand that there were no "better" or "worse" ones there. All the brooms were the "Cleansweep" model. Though the inscription on almost all of them had long since faded… possibly back when our parents stood here preparing for their first flying lesson.
I agree, it's an old model, about 40 years old, maybe a bit more. Over time, it loses maximum altitude and speed. The brooms also had charms on them that prevented us from flying too high, starting to vibrate more intensely as we gained altitude.
The school's funding would have been enough to buy an extra 40 brooms, even if not the latest or sports models. But why give fast and reliable brooms to schoolchildren who are still wet behind the ears? That's the whole reason for the old, worthless brooms.
The Quidditch teams, however, had decent ones — though again, not top-of-the-line — so you could either use school equipment or, for Quidditch, use your own. Fortunately, from the second year onwards, you were allowed to have your own broom at school.
"Right. Does everyone have a broom? Excellent. Today you won't just rise into the air; you will actually fly. So, let's not waste time. Everyone, take your brooms and line up."
"First, let's reinforce what you did in the last lesson. Everyone will take off in turn and fly three laps one after the other. On the first lap, fly straight, keeping the broom parallel to the ground. For the other two, fly alternately down and then up, no more than five meters — that will be quite enough. Try to maintain a standard speed; don't accelerate, so you don't fly into the back of the person in front of you. Is that clear? Then begin."
Everyone immediately mounted their brooms and skillfully soared into the air. We flew the first lap like real players — straight and neat. But on the second lap, when we had to descend and ascend, things started to go wrong. Some still struggled with speed, bumping into the person in front or the one behind.
But then one Gryffindor — with the same affliction of the brain as his house's name — decided to annoy Blackmore, constantly trying to crash into him on purpose, and he succeeded.
Blackmore himself crashed into me, and I almost slammed into Amanda Rosier flying ahead from the jolt. Luckily, I managed to turn and slide to the side in time.
I would have been thrown off the flight path while everyone else neatly completed the task, but had I practiced Flipendo for nothing?
By some strange twist, Reed was knocked sideways — so much so that he couldn't even stay on his broom. Luckily, Madam Hooch managed to catch him. She was also on a broom, on duty to rescue in such cases.
That's right, I simply applied Flipendo without any wand movement, quietly uttering the incantation. Even though I sometimes managed it without both components, it wasn't worth the risk here.
I did it skillfully, so that no one really noticed — especially Madam Hooch. My wand was hidden in my robe sleeve. I had to get clever with the grip, but it was worth it.
Overall, many messed up on the second lap. Some couldn't handle the broom handle and flew either too low or too high. But, in the end, by the third lap, almost everyone had managed this task as well.
Only Reed was displeased, and I couldn't care less. A pup like him isn't particularly frightening. Let him rage all he wants.
And so passed the last Flying lesson of the year; we would only continue in the spring. That meant one less class and more time for reading. And I loved to read.
At first, I read supplementary literature on various branches of magical arts, and when I got tired, I switched to memoirs and story collections to give my brain a break from textbooks while still learning new things about the world around me.
I was also looking forward to when I could delve into the family library, where the knowledge was much more valuable. I was glad I lived in this world, a world full of magic. For about another hour each day, I devoted time to strengthening friendly bonds by wandering the castle or hanging out in the Hogwarts courtyard. But not everything could be so perfect, especially on a day when the dead are a bit more alive than usual.
I felt immediately that Samhain wasn't just an ordinary day. The very air seemed different… I wanted to say colder, but it had been cold for a while now… A more accurate description would be a chilling… graveyard cold. The ghosts were especially active on this day.
So, as always, we were wandering the castle, exploring everything, and I needed to use the bathroom. There was a men's bathroom right nearby. And although we were on the third floor, unlike the girls' bathroom, the men's wasn't abandoned and didn't have Moaning Myrtle. Or rather, it shouldn't have had any ghosts. But there I was, alone in the middle of a not-so-frequently visited bathroom — considering most people used the ones in their common rooms, and there were bathrooms on three other floors — so I was alone…
I was doing my business at the urinal when I suddenly felt it getting cold. With every second, the feeling of anxiety grew.
Out of the corner of my mind, I noticed something wrong… as if someone was staring intently at my back. An alien gaze, intent, vile… Finishing up, I turned around sharply, and right in front of my face:
Short, stooped, with pale purple skin and long, thin arms. His face was round, his skin dead, etched with wrinkles, and his eyes — small, shiny like coals, with a sinister gleam. He wore old, dark-as-night clothes with patches and dirty stains. His gaze held something terrible, and he was half-transparent.
It was Peeves. He stood motionless, as if carved from shadow. His eyes sparkled in the bathroom's gloom, and his lips were stretched into a vile and frightening grin. He slowly began to lean forward, as if he wanted to say or do something.
From fear, I didn't even realize how I drew my wand and, without any gestures or words, sent a Flipendo at the poltergeist's half-intangible body.
"Hehehehehehe…" He was thrown back by the spell, spinning in the air and giggling nastily. The Flipendo sent him flying right through the wall.
"Phew..." I started breathing slowly, trying to calm down. My heart was pounding like crazy. That creature had scared me terribly, and for a whole minute, I just stood there staring at the wall he'd flown through. He didn't reappear.
What to do next?
I almost had a heart attack. That was Peeves, and he was clearly peeping… damn, a fucking pervert.
After a couple of seconds, I washed my hands and left the bathroom, scanning for the ghost who apparently enjoyed watching little boys… this time he got away, but next time I'll destroy that creature! Although, wait… how… how do you even destroy ghosts? I need to look into that. But for now, I need to go back and wash my hands. Although, he's a poltergeist, I think… and there's definitely a difference. I need to find out about all this.
Samhain had done its job, and I'd be looking over my shoulder in bathrooms for a long time. I was now on a warpath against Peeves. Of course, I didn't say a word to the friends I soon caught up with, but inside, I was furious.
How dare he!? Why hadn't he been expelled yet for his foul character!?
I don't care about me — this won't break my psyche — but another child would definitely be traumatized… I hope he at least doesn't peep in the girls' bathrooms. I need to destroy him at any cost. How disgusting… Oh, Merlin, what has this world come to…
Should I tell the teachers? Although, no… better to handle it myself, to be sure and permanent, and it's a bit embarrassing. And if the teachers had wanted to, they would have destroyed that filth long ago — if they even can… By the way, I managed to cast Flipendo without the two mandatory components in an emergency. So there was a small positive, but it paled in comparison to the negative.
I don't know what's wrong with Hogwarts… and yet the school is one of the recognized 11 greatest and globally acknowledged schools of witchcraft and wizardry.
Although, as my father told me, Hogwarts made it onto that list and was even in the unofficial top three around five or six centuries ago, when Magical Britain itself was considered one of the centers of the European magical world. Nowadays, Romania and France are vying for the title of the magical capital of Europe. After all, Nicolas Flamel lives in France, and Beauxbatons — where half the pure-bloods from the Romance-language side of Europe study — is located there. But it's worth remembering that a lot depends on the Guilds, which are mainly based in Romania, and there's much more there. But my knowledge of the magical world's geopolitics was limited to what I'd overheard at home. But remember, at my house, we've had various Ministers of Magic, prominent figures, administrators, heads of noble houses, Dark Lords, etc., as guests.
So, that's the situation. And now, after saying goodbye to my friends, I headed purposefully to the library — though ideally, I should have just talked to Flitwick; he would have suggested ways to deal with ghosts and could generally help if needed.
As I walked alone, I was looking around like an idiot, but it was all because of the fright… it's fine, it should pass after some training. I will be as calm as a boa constrictor.
For the rest of the evening, until the feast, I sat and read about incorporeal and otherworldly beings. It turned out I was right; Peeves was a poltergeist and was very different from ordinary ghosts.
Firstly, poltergeists could become semi-corporeal to interact with the physical world, playing pranks on people and creating real chaos.
But Peeves was different today, not like I'd seen him before. He'd swooped down on us once during the second week after a lesson, dropping spiders from above — luckily, the Bloody Baron had appeared then and quickly chased Peeves away. Back then, he was in a jester's motley outfit with a strange hat. And he didn't look so gloomy and frightening.
And that was just our case; in general, Peeves often pulled such stunts, with the exception of lessons where ghosts — and Peeves — generally weren't present. Peeves also didn't appear in the common rooms, unlike the other ghosts, except for the house ghosts like our Bloody Baron.
In short, I figured out who to ask about Peeves and who could generally help me deal with him — which, I'll tell you, is an extremely complicated matter.
In general, all ghosts varied in their abilities but shared common traits. For example, they could be affected by certain types of magic. The Patronus Charm, for instance — though my example was effective specifically against evil entities — but in general, spells that affected not so much physically but intangibly or magically were more effective against otherworldly beings. Physical impacts, however, were useless against ghosts.
But ghosts themselves were mostly harmless. They were completely intangible, though some particularly powerful ghosts could use magic, but that was very rare. In general, ghosts were helpless and bore no ill intent. A ghost could not be the soul of a Muggle, only the soul of a wizard who was deeply afraid of death and what lay beyond, or who had an important goal, an unfinished task.
Poltergeists, however, arose from purely negative emotions, which is why they could — and did — cause mischief for people. They weren't tied to a specific location, but if they were, they grew stronger over time and became harder to banish.
And get this — there was an incident where someone tried to seal Peeves away, and he spent three days taking revenge, destroying everything and threatening everyone with death. Only the Headmistress at the time managed to strike a bargain with him, making concessions and getting a few guarantees — like not killing students, not disrupting lessons, etc.
In general, Peeves was the most famous and problematic poltergeist in the entire history of Britain. How do I know this? Well, literally the first book I picked up, and after the chapter on Poltergeists, there were examples, and several pages were dedicated to Peeves. No one knows exactly when Peeves appeared or why he was so malevolent, but he had been living at Hogwarts for over half a millennium.