Memories of Midnight
As has been stated, Hogwarts castle is beautiful at night. But there were two insomniacs who didn't seem to much care for the sight. One is irrelevant to the plot, you will see no more of him. The other, by contrast, is the very focus of our attention. He zooms through the halls, rattling armor, scaring paintings and just generally making a ruckus. After all, that's what Peeves does best.
A thousand years. A thousand years since Baron Lancaster had led him into battle to defend a newly made school. A thousand years since he had died. A thousand years to the day. Shouldn't there be something special to commemorate the day? Not one of those somber Deathday parties all the other spirits threw. Something with style, or at least a little extra mayhem.
Alas and alack, his Lord had commanded against it, rightly fearing for the castle he gave his life to defend. Even in death, the oath he had sworn to the Baron was binding, so he contented himself with the same old routine.
And he remembered a few people who would celebrate this occasion with him, if only they had let their spirits remain. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. They'd been the only people he called 'friends' in his thousand years. Even James' girl had at least treated him with respect.
At first it was little things, request mayhem for which he was well compensated with prank materials. Over time, they grew to understand each other in the way that no one could understand them. Which didn't mean they were safe from each other. He vividly remembered removing all the screws from Sirius' desk that time. Cliché? Oh yes, but in a millennium of joking and pranking, you try not repeating yourself.
The very Best results had come when they'd worked together. Like the time he'd fast-talked the House-Elves into serving porridge while the Marauders cast a charm on an snobbish upperclassmen named Malfoy, convincing him that he was Oliver Twist. Or the Time he'd dive-bombed the Great Hall with dungbombs while they created and illusion of a Mariachi band. And who could forget Remus' inspired impersonation of McGonagall, aided and abetted by an abandoned girls' room and his friends' potions skills, singing cat food commercials. He'd had to bust them out of detention by distracting Filch while they charmed his watch.
And he'd helped in other ways to. Showing them passageways only the ghosts knew about. Drawing off Filch whenever he got too close. And of course, teaching them, in their first year, Filch's patrol schedule.
And was it his fault Mrs. Norris mysteriously flew from a fifth story window to the lake? Of course not. Or maybe that all the toilets in Hogwarts simultaneously exploded? He actually had an alibi for that one, four third years who swore that he was with them the whole time. And what about the explosion that destroyed the potions classroom and got everyone off for a month while it was fixed? Why did people always assume he did these things?
He had gotten so excited when he learned the Potter boy was coming. If he was anything like his father, they'd have the teachers on their knees before the week was out. So he'd greeted the lad in similar fashion to how he'd greeted them so long ago. To his disappointment, the kid had no witty or sarcastic comment on hand. He just gazed in fear like the other firsties. But just a look in the eye showed Lily's cleverness combined with James' devious streak. So he became determined to push the boy until he snapped, and came up with the sort of creative revenge he'd expect of Prongs. But he never did.
A few years later Moony returned, but he'd changed. The little turncoat had joined the side of authority and order. He even shot some gum up his nose, a painful reminder of the good old days when he'd caught Peeves sticking gum under his desk.
Still all was not lost, he'd seen the looks Potter shot at the Weasley girl. Perhaps the Marauder in him would combine with the Fred and George in her and produce something unheard of. Besides, important traits tend to skip a generation.
Okay, this is oneshot so there isn't much point in reviewing. All the same, I'd like some kind of feedback.