Chimaera Of Judgement

12: Patching And Blatching

"All right, everyone, listen up."

The students who had been talking fell silent, sitting up straighter as Professor Longbottom leaned against the wall, running his hand through his shaggy brown hair. "After talking it over with the Headmaster, your teachers have agreed that this... unusual behaviour of the ghosts, though frankly bewildering, poses no immediate threat. Until a possible danger arises, please rest assured that we will be working to figure out what caused this, and in the meantime there is no cause for alarm. We would like you to report any further incidents of this sort to your Head of House, or any other teacher. Now, try and get some rest, all of you."

The students all began to talk at once. It took a lot of willpower for Albus to disregard the sight of Rose climbing the staircase to her dormitories, pointedly ignoring him, but he made firmly for Longbottom before he could escape.

"Professor!"

He turned, eyebrow raised. "Mr Potter, what's-"

"Listen... can I talk to you for a moment?"

The man seemed startled, but he nodded. "Let's just step outside the portrait hole."

Once on the other side, the professor took him by the elbow and led him a short ways along the hallway before saying, "All right, then, what's up?"

"Well, only... I think Peeves might be responsible for these strange things, sir."

It's irksome the way adults will sometimes smile at those still underage when they try to engage them in serious conversation, as if they're being especially cute for a photograph. "Hmm, maybe. But don't worry, we'll be racking our brains all night on this one, and if the problem gets any worse we'll probably contact the Minist-"

"No, see- that chandelier a couple weeks back. Why did it fall? A ghost would have no trouble getting up to the ceiling, but they can't touch solid objects - it'd have to be a poltergeist, or else-"

"Albus," said Longbottom kindly. "Please, listen. I'm not trying to blow you off, but you really shouldn't be worrying about this - you've got O.W.L.s coming up! And don't think we won't travel down the very avenues of thought you've suggested. We might not have exactly the same brains as you, but between the entire staff I do believe we know rather a lot. Have a little faith."

Gritting his teeth, he nodded.

"I appreciate you coming to me, though," he said as he led Albus back toward the Fat Lady. "Shows you've a deep loyalty to our school, that your concern is for more than your own safety; it's a real virtue, to be sure. Also... I was afraid you'd carry a grudge against me for being so harsh about that fistfight you, Weasley and Macmillan got yourselves into."

Albus couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, you did nearly shout yourself hoarse at us, sir... but we deserved the detentions, we were acting like prats."

Longbottom smiled warmly, whispered "Gillyweed" to the Fat Lady, and patted Albus on the back. "Tuesday morning, then?"

"Right. And thanks, Professor."

"Of course."

The only real regret Albus had about the conversation was that he forgot to mention his older suspicions, the ones about Peele and Dryden possibly being involved. Though Peeves was still his prime suspect, both of those new teachers had been present, and hadn't seemed especially unnerved by the sight of normally-friendly spirits deciding to race each other around the ceiling of the Great Hall, wailing at the top of their insubstantial lungs. But all he could do now was cross his fingers and hope the other members of staff were the detectives his Head of House made them out to be.