"Imagine going to Potions reeking of garlic," Jo shuddered when at last, they stepped out of Professor Quirrel's classroom to get to their last lesson of the day. "I bet Professor Snape would dock us points for that. Somethin' like," she paused and flourished her hands as they all turned a corner to the Suspension Bridge, "'Two points off Gryffindor for interfering with the potion-making process.' Butchered that but you understand what I mean, right?"
"He would," Ron muttered under his breath with slight relief.
"They could've given us a tour at least," Jo complained aloud, peering at the Suspension Bridge on her tiptoes to catch a flood of higher year students in the paved courtyard just up ahead. "We'll miss Herbology at this rate."
"We could ask a ghost?" Parvarti suggested.
And that was how they all found out to never ask Peeves.
"—Other way!—"
"—Where even are we?—"
"—Josie, it's Peeves again!—"
Minerva turned around as a flurry of footfalls sounded down the Transfiguration corridor, catching the shadows across the wall burst into a group of harried first years, her Gryffindors, with looks of abject distress on their faces.
"Prof'ssor!" Jo cried out. "We're lost!—"
"—Can't find the greenhouses—"
"—Peeves won't stop chasing us—"
"—and Seamus sprained his ankle on the stairs!" Ended Harry, panting as he shoved his hair out of his eyes.
They all watched the Transfiguration Professor shoot a sharp look at the poltergeist behind and slumped on the floor in relief when he fled, catching their breaths.
"Why can't... someone just... lock him in one of the... suits of armour?"
As Minerva guided her cubs to the greenhouses and levitated Seamus to the hospital wing, she found herself contemplating Jo's question.