Part 1 A Wish For Your Trouble
By Admiral Albia

This is just something I dreamed up while watching `The Queen's Nose` after reading fanfics all morning =P Hope you like it!

Disclaimer; I don't own Peeves, Harry, Moaning Myrtle or anyone else. They all belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One; Save the Poltergeist!
Harry Potter sighed and looked at his watch. It was midnight.
"Great," he muttered, "Not only do I have a nightmare, I get to wake up at some unearthly hour and not be able to get back to sleep." He rolled over and tried again, but it was no use; Harry was wide awake now and there was nothing he could do about it. He considered possible alternatives to tire himself out, and finally decided on going for a walk.

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"PEEVES!" Filch's familiar battle-cry screeched out over the school as twelve loud bangs occurred consecutively. Despite being invisible, Harry shrank into the shadows as the school caretake came running by, his face covered in purple boils. Mrs Norris was following him, tie-died and sneezing; Harry guessed that she'd had an allergic reaction to whatever had hit her. He waited until Filch was out of sight, then stepped back into the middle of the corridor; just in time to have Moaning Myrtle, glasses skew-iff and hair all over the place, float right through him, presumeably running away from Peeves, who was holding - Harry did a double-take - a wand? He stared at the poltergeist, then realised suddenly that Filch had stopped yelling and his voice was coming back towards them, together with - Harry's heart sank - Dumbledore.
"- somehow got hold of a wand, Headmaster, casting all kinds of spells... probably found a book in the library... have to send him away now..."
"Let me see the damage first, Argus. Mumblemumble... be necessary. Expelliarmus." The wand that Peeves had somehow acquired zoomed out of his hand, and Dumbledore caught it.
"Good evening, Headmaster," the little man said oilily, "Nice night for a walk, isn't it?"
"Attacking members of staff," Filch hissed, fingering a particularly large boil on his nose, "and carrying a wand. You're out this time, Peeves."
"I'm afraid I have to agree," Dumbledore said, looking very solemn. Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he thought furiously. It wasn't as if Peeves didn't deserve it, or even that Harry particularly liked the poltergeist... but Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without him, somehow, he was like the furniture... and besides, Harry dreaded to think what would happen to Peeves. He could easily just hang around in Hogsmeade and attack the students at weekends.
On the other hand, though, Harry was breaking school rules... but what was house point loss and possible detention compared to losing... Harry wasn't entirely sure what Peeves was to him, but he certainly didn't want the little man to go. It was strange, really, he was such a pest... steeling himself, Harry removed the Cloak and cleared his throat. The two men snapped round.
"Potter!" Filch snapped. "Out of bed! What are you doing?"
"I was looking for my wand," Harry said, thinking fast. "I left it in the library when I'd finished doing my homework there, and I was going to get it when I ran into Peeves. He said he'd get it for me. I'm sorry, it's my fault really... I should've known not to trust him." He crossed his fingers behind his back and prayed that Peeves would get the idea.
"Is this true, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked gravely.
"Yes, Headmaster. Harry wants his wand back." Dumbledore tossed the wand to Harry, who caught it, then turned to Filch. "It seems you have no case for removing Peeves after all, Argus. Perhaps you'd like to go to bed? I can't recall the last time you slept." Filch stared at them all, and particularly Harry, incredibly nastily for a second before turning and marching off round the corner, Mrs Norris at his heels. Once he'd gone, Dumbledore chuckled.
"Whose wand is it really, Peeves?"
"Harry's, Headmaster."
"I doubt it, somehow. It's just lucky Argus didn't notice Harry's wand sticking out of his pocket..." Harry looked down and nearly swore, before he caught himself. "Why are you out of bed, Harry, if not to look for any vital equipment?"
"I couldn't sleep, Professor."
"So you decided to take a walk?" Harry nodded. "Perfectly reasonable." Dumbledore took the wand back and swept off, leaving Harry alone with Peeves, who looked uncharacteristically serious.
"What did you do that for?" the poltergeist demanded once the headmaster was out of earshot, "What've I ever done for you?" Harry shrugged.
"I dunno, it's just... well, I don't know what made me do it."
"Oh." Peeves stared at Harry for a moment as though trying to work something out, then said, "Well, whatever made you do it, you saved my life. If I left this place I'd die."
"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Kid, I'm a ghost, whatever those stuck-up see-throughs say. I haunt where I haunt and only where I haunt. Same for all poltergeists. So..." Peeves sighed and looked hard at Harry again before murmuring, `wishes` and turning away. When he turned back, he was holding a tiny black box. "There you go. This thing'll grant ten wishes, either for you or for anyone you give permission to. Anyone who doesn't get permission..." Peeves grinned nastily, "well, let's just say they won't try to steal a poltergeist wish again. And if they do try to nick one you'll still have it afterwards." Harry stared at the box, then at Peeves, looking for some sign that it was a joke. Reading his expression, the poltergeist said, "No joke. You saved my life, it's traditional, yadda yadda yadda. All you have to do is touch it and wish."
"I - can't -" Harry began. Peeves tutted impatiently.
"This is the problem with you, kid. A Slytherin'd take it if they ever did anything to deserve it, a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff'd ask questions, but Gryffindors? You lot are so unselfish it's unbelievable. Take it. You deserve it." Harry gave up and took it.
"So... it can grant any wish?" He asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"Any wish except those ones that involve changing history. You wanna wish that someone never existed..." the little man shook his head. "Tough cookies. BUT you can bring people back to life, long as they're not actually buried at the time. If they're buried, you need to dig `em up first. Otherwise they'll come back to life and suffocate. Clear?" Harry nodded. "Good. Now go back to bed."
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On his way back to the Fat Lady, Harry ran into Dumbledore, who was standing waiting for him.
"What did he give you?" he asked, falling into step with Harry, who gaped, then remembered that it was the headmaster's job to know these things and produced the box. "Ah. Wishes. Harry, there is something I have to tell you."
"Yes, Professor?" Harry said, guessing what it was going to be.
"Be careful what you wish for. What you think you want isn't always what you really want. And make sure other people remember that, too." Harry nodded; it was exactly what he'd expected; and turned to the portrait hole. "Always think before you wish," Dumbledore said softly, "Always. And Harry?"
"Yes, Professor?"
"Remember to dig your parents up before you bring them back to life, if that's what you really want." Harry stared after Dumbledore's retreating back, feeling vaguely annoyed. Of course it was what he really wanted! Well, actually what he really wanted was for Voldemort to never have existed, but he couldn't wish for that... he stifled a huge yawn and decided to think about it in the morning.
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If you like it, review it! Simple as that. I'll give you a clue, though; this story may not be as predictable as you think =)