"Is there really a way?!" Jerry leaned in, eyes locked on Ted. Ron looked just as hopeful.
After all, no one enjoys getting hit by a giant dung bomb.
The other students gathered around quickly, buzzing with excitement and frustration.
"Ted! You've got to come up with something! Peeves has gone too far!"
"Yeah, he blocked me on the stairs last week. I was late to class!"
"He put my hamster on the rafters!"
"He tore up my homework!"
"Didn't you not do it at all?"
"Rubbish, I totally did it—Peeves ripped it up! Honestly! You think Professor McGonagall believes me, though?"
...
The younger students vented their complaints like they'd declare war on Peeves if they could.
Ted raised his hands. "Alright, alright—I get it. I'll give it a shot. But I'll need your help too..."
Word spread quickly. It wasn't long before other students noticed something was going on with the second-years.
They whispered in class, huddled in groups between lessons, and darted around the castle on secret errands.
Everyone had their task. Some went outside Hogwarts' boundaries, while Neville led a team near the Whomping Willow at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Jerry took a group to gather more student support.
Ted had learned a lot about special crafting methods from the knowledge he obtained from the cultivator's journey.
The cultivator that he saw created many magical weapons during his life, and Ted used those knowledge as his inspiration.
He wanted to craft a simple, focused magical tool—something to keep Peeves in check.
In Ted's eyes, Peeves wasn't just a ghost or poltergeist.
He was more like a trickster spirit—born from centuries of mischief and magical chaos, a living echo of Hogwarts' rebellious nature.
He was bound to the castle in a way no expulsion spell could undo.
Even the Headmaster had limited influence.
But that didn't mean he was invincible.
As the saying goes, "Set a thief to catch a thief."
And in this case, maybe the solution lay within the castle itself—and the students.
The teams returned one by one, completing their missions.
Neville brought back a long, flexible branch from the Whomping Willow, over two meters in length and as thick as a thumb.
Its emerald green bark glistened, and the tip still writhed gently on its own.
This was no easy feat.
The Whomping Willow was dangerous, swinging its massive limbs like an angry giant.
Only Neville's deep understanding of green thumb and prodigious talent on herbology could do something like taking a branch from a tree such as the Whomping Willow.
With the main component ready, the rest fell into place.
An old classroom yielded a cracked pointer, long abandoned.
A nearly dried bottle of ink, forgotten by some past student, still sat on a dusty desk.
And from Snape's private potion stash—generously acquired by Harley—they retrieved some essential magical reagents.
Ted raised his wand.
A wave of magical force extended from it, conjuring the transparent hand of a conjurer's spell.
It carefully plucked the smaller twigs and leaves from the Whomping Willow branch.
Next, Ted conjured controlled flame, burning the pointer and other ingredients to ash and mixing them with magical ink.
The concoction began to shimmer—shifting from black to deep blue to green, before suddenly bursting into flame.
"Let's go!" Ted called out, stepping onto a table.
Below, the crowd of young wizards was ready.
Friends had gathered others, and now over fifty students stood in formation.
Further back, curious fifth and sixth years watched in disbelief.
Everyone had been briefed beforehand.
At Ted's shout, they raised their wands in unison, pointing toward the tip of his own.
"Teach Peeves a lesson!"
"Teach Peeves a lesson!"
"Teach Peeves a lesson!"
The chant rose like a storm.
Bluish magic flowed from their wands like the northern lights, streaming toward Ted's wand.
The collective magic surged into Ted's hand, and he felt the crushing pressure of raw power.
It was like holding a boulder with one arm.
His forehead dripped with sweat.
Just a little more...
He moved his wand carefully, guiding the gathered power into the flaming ink.
Then, with a flick of his finger, the willow branch flew into the blaze.
Thirty seconds passed.
The flame died down, and the willow branch rose slowly into the air—glowing with orange fire.
It shimmered with fiery red markings along its surface, each one pulsing with power.
The students gasped in awe.
Ted had just crafted a powerful magical whip, using techniques drawn from the cultivator's magical crafting method—fusing such knowledge with his own understanding of alchemy and artifact forging.
He reached out and took the willow whip in hand.
As his fingers closed around it, the fiery glow faded, the branch appearing ordinary again—like just another piece of wood.
But they all knew it wasn't.
Ted grinned. "Alright—let's see if Peeves still thinks we're a bunch of pushovers. Time to return the favor."
"YEAH!" the students roared, rallying behind him as they charged off to confront their spectral tormentor.
Off to the side, Peggy nudged her best friend Angelina. "Did they actually make something that works? That was insane."
Meanwhile, Malfoy—who had been spying from a distance—stood frozen.
That was the coolest thing he'd ever seen.
A real rally.
Unified spellcasting. Magical crafting. A squad of wizards on a mission.
He couldn't help but imagine himself at the center of it.
How amazing would that be...?
...
A little wizard had already tracked Peeves' movements.
To lure him out and keep him from slipping away, the student even shouted insults at Peeves—earning a barrage of flying objects in return.
Suddenly, just as a piece of chalk was about to hit, an invisible magical shield blocked it in midair.
Peeves turned his head. "Oh ho! Look who's here—quite the crowd!"
He hovered in the air, dressed in his usual ridiculous mishmash of clothes—five or six clashing colors, odd patterns, and a crooked top hat perched on his head.
He floated on his back, arms folded behind his head, legs crossed like he was lounging in midair.
"Aww, all my favorite little troublemakers! Reminds me of the good old days—you lot sprinting for cover with your robes over your heads!" Peeves cackled, rolling lazily in the air.
Jerry pointed at him, both indignant and determined. "Peeves, we're here to teach you a lesson today!"
"That's right!"
"You're done for!"
"Hope you like detention, because you're getting a magical one-way trip!"
The other students joined in, shouting and waving their wands.
Peeves let out a piercing giggle. "Hahaha! You lot have no idea what you're up against!"
With a flourish, he raised his hands. Between his fingers appeared five or six dung bombs the size of ping-pong balls—vile, stinking things that would cling to your robes and your pride for days.
The crowd of students instinctively stepped back, wincing.
But Ted stepped forward, calm and focused. In his hand was the willow whip they had crafted together.
"Peeves," Ted called, voice steady. "You've had your fun. But you've crossed the line far too many times. Today, it ends."
Before the words were even finished, Ted flicked his arm. The willow whip lashed out like a striking serpent.
With a loud crack, it connected.
A flash of red fire flared the moment the whip hit Peeves, and with a yelp, the poltergeist was sent flying into the wall.
He howled, rubbing his glowing arm. "Ahhh—what was that?!"
Ted gave the whip a casual flick, sending a ripple of magic through it.
Peeves, wide-eyed, floated backward in alarm.
"What is it? It's a willow whip. And if you keep messing with students, you'll be getting it a lot. Got that?"
Peeves hissed, not backing down so easily.
He darted forward, hands outstretched, aiming to lift Ted into the air and toss him like a toy.
But Ted was ready.
With a sharp motion, he struck again—crack, crack, crack, crack, crack! Five fast lashes in a blur of light.
Peeves screamed like a banshee, curling into a floating ball, tears almost springing to his eyes.
Jerry shouted with glee, "I know that one! Five Flash Strikes!" He swung his wand in imitation.
The other students stared in awe. "That was amazing! Well done, Ted!"
Ted raised his voice so Peeves could hear clearly. "We don't want to hurt you, but you have to stop messing with everyone. Remember this whip—if you go back to your tricks, someone will pick it up again."
They placed the enchanted willow whip in the trophy room, as a reminder.
Ted made sure everyone understood: if Peeves started causing chaos again, the whip would return.
Intimidated and sore, Peeves vanished and wasn't seen for two full weeks.
...
A few days later at breakfast, Ron and Jerry were late again.
Neville sighed. "They've been skipping the morning runs lately. Ron hasn't really been himself."
Hermione gave a reassuring smile. "He just needs some time. Once he gets his new wand over the holidays, things will look up."
This year had been rough for Ron—one setback after another.
But he had finally scraped together enough money for a new wand.
Ted nodded. "He'll bounce back. Everyone goes through rough patches. What matters is we support him until he does."
Just then, Ron and Jerry were standing at the door.
Ron, having overheard, looked genuinely touched.
He stepped in quickly, voice full of feeling. "Ted, I…"
But before he could finish, George and Fred Weasley popped up and flanked Ted on either side.
"Ted, mate! Thanks for believing in our Ronniekins!"
Ron's face darkened instantly.
"So…what do you think of us?" Fred grinned.
Ted raised an eyebrow at the two of them. "You? You're full of energy, creative chaos, and you never settle for ordinary. The two of you are destined for greatness."
The twins lit up.
"Ted, you're a legend!"
"Our best mate! We've got an idea—and we need your help!"
Before Ted could reply, they were already dragging him toward the door.
"Borrowing Ted for a bit!" they called back to the group.
Hermione just shook her head and laughed. "Here we go again."
_______________________________
Word count: 1689
Comment below on what you think so far.
Also, if you're interested in reading some advanced chapters, you can support me on my patreon.
patreon.com/Rai_jin
Thanks for reading guys.