The stone corridors of Hogwarts were quieter in the evenings. Shadows stretched long beneath torchlight, and the occasional echo of footsteps or shifting suits of armor filled the silence. Most students were winding down, either relaxing in their common rooms or buried in books in the library. But Lucan and Darius had other plans.
The two boys moved quickly, robes swaying as they turned down a lesser-used hallway on the third floor, one known for its haunted reputation. Suits of armor lined the walls, one of them missing a helmet, and a tapestry showing a wizard attempting to teach trolls ballet hung crookedly nearby.
"He usually hangs around here, right?" Darius whispered, glancing warily at the ceiling.
Lucan nodded, eyes sharp. "Around this time, yeah. If he's not here, he might be off flooding bathrooms again. We'll wait a few minutes."
Darius sighed and leaned against the wall. "Are we really doing this? Peeves is... unpredictable."
"We need access to the Restricted Section," Lucan said firmly. "We're not going to find Animagus instructions in 'Beginner's Magical Beasts.' If Peeves can distract Pince, it's the best shot we've got without breaking into Snape's office."
Darius gave a reluctant nod. "Alright. But if we end up dangling upside-down from a chandelier, I'm blaming you."
A sudden gust of air whipped through the corridor, and with it came maniacal laughter.
Lucan smirked. "Right on time."
Peeves floated down from the ceiling, grinning ear to ear, or rather, ear to the side of his head, given that he was upside down and spinning slowly like a carnival ride.
"Well well well, if it isn't the little snakelets!" he sang, twirling in midair. "Out past bedtime, are we? Plotting a murder? Planning to turn a professor into a frog? Ooh, do tell!"
"We want to make a deal," Lucan said confidently.
Peeves stopped spinning. "A deal?" he echoed, intrigued. "With me? How delightfully stupid. Go on."
Darius folded his arms, unsure how much they should reveal, but Lucan kept his voice steady. "We need you to distract Madam Pince for a few minutes. Big enough distraction that she runs off. Nothing dangerous… just chaos."
Peeves' smile stretched wider. "Sounds like fun! But Peevesy doesn't work for free. I want something in return."
"What do you want?" Darius asked hesitantly.
Peeves hovered closer, his wide yellow eyes gleaming. "There's a little cabinet near Filchy's office. Locked. Inside are a dozen dungbombs, my precious stolen treasures. Bring me two. No, three! And I'll give you five minutes of glorious distraction. Deal?"
Lucan and Darius exchanged a glance.
"Deal," Lucan said.
Peeves cackled and somersaulted in the air. "Bring them to the third-floor broom closet when you're ready! I'll be waiting!"
With another shriek of laughter, he vanished through the ceiling.
Darius exhaled, rubbing his face. "Great. Now we're breaking into Filch's supply cabinet too."
Lucan grinned. "We'll come up with something. One step closer."
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The castle had a different life at night. The flickering torches along the stone walls cast tall, shifting shadows. Every creak of the floorboards felt louder, every gust of wind outside sounded like a scream.
Lucan crept alongside Darius, both cloaked in black school robes, sticking close to the wall as they approached the first-floor corridor. It was already well past curfew, but Lucan had memorized Filch's patrol patterns after a week of careful observation. Tonight, the caretaker was scheduled to loop through the dungeons and kitchens before heading back up.
If they were quick, they'd have maybe five minutes.
"You sure this is worth it?" Darius whispered, peering over his shoulder. "We could get detention for a month."
"We need those dungbombs. Peeves asked for them, and he might be the only way into the Restricted Section without anyone noticing."
"Your father's an Auror, right?" Darius smirked. "I doubt he'll find this funny."
"At least my father isn't a pureblood supremacist," Lucan shot back.
"Fair," Darius said, rolling his eyes. "Still, if we're caught, I'm blaming you."
Lucan paused at a corner, slowly peeking around. Filch's office was down the hall, the dull golden glow from a lamp flickering under the door. He gestured for Darius to hold back and crept forward, his wand drawn.
They passed a wall of portraits, most of them dozing, save for one grumpy old wizard who opened one eye and muttered something under his breath. Lucan glared at him and placed a finger to his lips.
To their luck, the portrait turned over and snored loudly.
They reached the worn wooden cabinet just beside Filch's office, the place where confiscated goods went to die. Lucan took a breath, flicked his wand, and whispered, "Alohomora."
Click.
The lock gave way.
He opened the door carefully. Shelves lined with banned goods lay inside, Fanged Frisbees, Fizzing Whizbees, prank wands, and there. A little red box labeled in angry black ink: "Dungbombs – DO NOT TOUCH."
Lucan grinned and grabbed the box.
Suddenly, creaking. Footsteps.
Darius hissed from down the corridor, "He's coming!"
Lucan slammed the cabinet shut and bolted, barely making it past the corner as Filch's lantern light illuminated the hallway behind him.
"He's here…" Filch's voice rasped. "I can smell mischief…"
Lucan and Darius ducked behind a nearby statue of Boris the Bewildered. Mrs. Norris padded ahead, her glowing yellow eyes scanning.
Both boys held their breath, motionless.
Mrs. Norris paused.
Then turned.
And walked away.
They didn't dare move until Filch's muttering voice was far enough away that it blended with the wind again.
"That," Darius whispered, "was the single most terrifying thing I've done in my life."
Lucan handed him the dungbomb box, smiling. "Worth it."
They hurried through the halls, using back routes and trick staircases until they made it to the third-floor broom closet, the place Peeves had told them to meet him.
"I still think this is mental," Darius muttered, pushing open the dusty door.
Inside, the space was cramped, full of mops and old buckets. A cobweb fell across Lucan's face as he stepped inside.
Then a soft giggle echoed through the air, high-pitched, mischievous, and unmistakable.
"I smell rule-breakers!" came Peeves' sing-song voice from above. He was floating upside down near the ceiling, grinning wildly.
"You brought them?" he asked, eyes glittering.
Lucan held up the box.
Peeves snatched it mid-air, sniffed it, and cackled. "Ooooh, yes. Lovely stinky bombs."
"Now will you help us?" Lucan asked.
Peeves hovered down, face right in front of Lucan's. "Distraction. You two, books. No crying if you get caught, yes? Might be bloody."
Darius looked slightly pale but nodded. "We'll manage."
"Tomorrow night," Peeves whispered, spinning mid-air. "Hope you like chaos."
And with that, he vanished through the wall, his cackling echoing through the halls behind him.
Author's Note:
Hey everyone! I've got something I wanted to ask. I'm planning on adding a bit of romance later on in the story, but I haven't fully decided on who the female lead should be yet. I'm still thinking about whether to use an existing character from the Harry Potter universe or to create an original character instead. If you have any thoughts, ideas, or preferences, feel free to share them! I'd love to hear what you all think.