Disclaimer: (Also known as "Forest") I do not own the setting of the fic or the characters. Only the plot.
Chap. #1
Is it true?
Peeves floated upside down in front of Nearly Headless Nick, chanting "Oh Nick, you're sick, your head comes off with a flick," Along with some other chanting, more inappropriate words the rhyme with "Nick."
"Just leave me alone, don't make the fetch the Baron." Every ghost knew (and most live-folk, for that matter) Peeves would listen to the Bloody Baron, for he had the power to banish him forever. Peeves raced down the hallway, singing his last verses of "Oh Sick Nick," wondering who to bother, or what to destroy next.
"Hmm . . . there's always Groaning Moaning Myrtle. . ." he thought to himself.
"But then again, she'll just go and sulk in her toilet like always." He continued to race, still upside down, along the corridors, for no reason at all, towards Myrtle's bathroom.
"Oh Myrtle?" called Peeves in an I'm-Here-To-Make-Fun-Of-You voice. "Are ya' gonna come out and see your pal Peeves?" A gurgling sound came from Myrtle's favorite stall, sounding like she was trying to drown herself in a toilet once again.
"Go away," came Myrtles slightly waterish, gurgling voice from the stall.
"Oh Myrtle, you turtle, cannot catch me. I'd love to, just love to, watch you and see." Said Peeves in a sing-song voice. Peeves floated nearer towards the stall Myrtle usually confined herself in.
"Why d'you do that?" Asked Myrtle, coming out of her stall in a flourish.
"Do what, my sweet turtle?" Said Peeves, sarcasm dripping when he said "sweet."
"Make fun of people who don't deserve it. Like, with all the humans, and the ghosts, just not the Bloody Baron." She replied, in an airy voice.
Peeves shrugged. He'd never really thought about WHY he was a nuisance, he just was. No one had ever questioned him about it, so he'd never given any time away from his pranks to thing about it.
"Well, why don't you give it a rest, then?" Said Myrtle, obviously trying to get him to leave her alone.
"But. . . but . . . don't you enjoy being with your ol' pal Peevious?" came the reply, in a pretend hurt voice.
"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that, I love spending time with you, "Peevious". But not when you're making fun of other people." Peeves pretended to look downcast. He was ALWAYS making fun of people.
"Ah. Well. I see how it is. I better go then." Said Peeves, slowly floating backwards, finally flipping upright, then flying out of the girls bathroom, faking to sob loudly.
Peeves flew up through several floors to the fifth floor, scaring some first years accidentally on the fourth. Peeves wondered what to go terrorize next. He heard word from a very reliable source (himself) that some first years would be coming from a Care Of Magical Creatures lesson soon. He could go dive-bomb them with balloons filled with Stink-Sap when they came back into the castle. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, Myrtle's voice filled his head. "Well, why don't you give it a rest, then?"
Peeves sank slowly through the air, wondering what he should do. He could go and be mean to some people, or take Myrtle's advice, and try to be nice. He decided to do neither, and just, not be mean to people, but not be nice either.
He raced through the corridors, thinking. Why? Why was he listening to what Myrtle said about not being mean? His heart (that doesn't beat) felt like it did a back-flip at the thought of Myrtle. Woah, he was PEEVES! The poltergeist! He can't LIKE another ghost! I mean, can a ghost even like another ghost? It didn't seem possible, for his normal air. But the flopping in his chest area must mean something. . . didn't it? He decided to ignore it for the time being, and go plot what to do next, good or bad.
