I, Sirius Black, Formally Declare War on the Poltergeist

Chapter 6 - How to Become a Proper Black

Detention.

Sirius really wasn't all that surprised, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. Apparently, Professor McGonagall did not share Sirius' or James' sense of humor.

It wasn't even the tardiness that did them in. No, quite surprisingly, she was actually going to let them off the hook for that.

Rather, it was the Poltergeist they had lured into the classroom right after. Sirius almost felt badly.

Almost.

It wasn't as if they set off for class intending to cancel Transfiguration, but such opportunities were so rare and significant that when the chance came along, well, they had to take it.

At any rate, so many strange circumstances had to fall into place for them to even have the opportunity, that Sirius pondered whether or not it had just been fate.

In short, Peeves had stalked James and Sirius all the way from Sir Aloysius Napoleti's portrait, prattling on about silly first years and how they were going to be in Filch's dungeon by the end of the day if they didn't get to class soon, all while balancing an impossible number of paint buckets that he continuously tried to dump on their heads. They had tried everything they could to shake him and avoid getting doused in paint, but failed miserably. Once they had been doused with a variety of colors, they decided that maybe the problem was a little too big for them. Perhaps Professor McGonagall could help.

Perhaps, they could bring Peeves to her.

Maybe they would even get out of class, if he caused enough damage. Sirius and James agreed that they more than deserved it, being the messes that they were.

There had been slightly more damage than they had anticipated.

The Slytherin girls were furious at the paint in their hair, and the Slytherin boys turned their wands on James and Sirius almost immediately, but neither of those things compared to the fury of Professor McGonagall.

All things considered, Sirius and James were lucky they only got one detention. But Sirius didn't have to be happy about it.

They were back in the common room now, a satisfactory amount of paint out of their hair and off their robes. The girls trooped down from their dormitories, hair all sopping wet. Felicity Fawcett was certainly the most irritated by the whole affair, glowering at them as she and Mary Macdonald walked by and crawled through the portrait hole, although Dorothy Hoffman, who followed them, was certainly a close second, complaining about how she had just washed her hair and wash day was such a pain. Marlene McKinnon, on the other hand, was unbothered by the streak of blue that still ran down her cheek, which Lily Evans was furiously trying to rub off. Frances O'Doherty watched with amusement.

"It's pointless, Lily," McKinnon was saying, "Give it up."

"I just don't understand," Evans said, shaking her head, "What kind of paint is this difficult to wash off?"

"Magic paint, obviously," Sirius offered from the plush chair he was lounging in. He wasn't quite hungry enough to head down to dinner, and the older students hadn't staked their claim by the fire yet.

"Thank you, Black, that's very insightful," Evans said sarcastically, giving up with McKinnon's face.

"What even happened?" O'Doherty asked them in a thick Irish brogue. Peter perked up from where he had been sulking on the sofa. Apparently, he was the only one who was hungry. Sirius still hadn't decided how he felt about him.

"James and Sirius fought Peeves!" he exclaimed, as though they had done something heroic.

"James and Sirius lost," Evans remarked.