Chapter 338: The Birth of Peeves
"What is it, Kael?" Arwen had noticed the change in him. His brows were drawn tight, and she looked at him with concern.
Seeing the worry in her eyes and the round swell of her belly, Kael's gaze flickered. He smoothed his expression into something gentle.
"It is nothing," he said, shaking his head with a hint of humour. "I just have the feeling some student is sneakily staring at me. Probably one of those little admirers of mine."
Arwen gave a quiet laugh at her vain husband and let her doubts go. She picked up one of the dragon ribs he favoured and set it down on his plate.
"Thank you, my love," Kael said cheerfully, and bent his head to his food.
At the same time, he silently opened his natural gift for Legilimency to its fullest.
In an instant, a clamour of thoughts crashed into his mind. Pain flickered in his eyes.
His hand did not slow, but his mental focus sharpened as he strained to listen through and separate every student's inner voice, searching for anything out of place.
Time ticked past. Yet every thought he touched was merely that of a child: noisy, fleeting, a thousand times louder than their spoken chatter, but nothing dark.
At last, Kael drew back his Legilimency. His expression did not alter, but the gravity in his eyes was close to spilling over.
Because he remained with his head bowed, no one noticed.
When all had eaten and drunk their fill, Kael rose and flicked his wand. A ribbon of light shot forth, hanging in mid‑air with words glittering along its length.
"Now," Kael said happily, "everyone chooses whatever tune you like and sing the school song."
"Ready, 1, 2, 3... sing."
Under the professors' mixed looks, halfway between expectation and exasperation, everyone burst into the anthem to entirely different melodies.
The savvier second‑years led the chaos. The loudest among them strained their throats to out‑shout each other, as if competing to see who could sing the most off‑key and the loudest, drowning out almost everyone else.
Kael watched, very pleased, and did not intervene.
For a while, the air was full of clashing notes. The Great Hall rang with a wild cacophony that made the carved figures on the walls and the portraits clamp their hands over their ears in comic agony.
Several professors had already cast the Muffliato charm on themselves, cutting off the noise.
With every student who joined in, the bond between castle and child deepened, an invisible tether weaving tighter and tighter.
At the same time, their emotional energy and the magic leaking from them were all being drawn towards some point within the castle.
As he waved his wand in time like a conductor, Kael's gaze roamed over the students below.
As master of the castle, he could feel clearly the link that formed between it and each child. The bond helped the castle protect them, but it also watched and constrained them, making sure they could not easily do harm to the place they lived in.
He tested each connection in turn, senses stretched as far as they would go. Until the last note of the song faded, he found nothing wrong.
Seeing that, Kael did not push further.
He was just about to declare the feast ended when a violent surge of magic rippled through the castle.
It was strong enough that not only Kael but even the students could feel it.
The whole structure seemed to hum, as if the stone itself were vibrating.
Outside, the thunderbirds on the mallorn gave piercing cries like thunder. Wreathed in lightning, they burst from their eyries and began circling over the castle.
On the enchanted ceiling, the night sky drew together into heavy storm clouds. Lightning flashed, and a bolt cracked down, bringing with it the sharp tang of ozone.
Even Smaug, the great dragon sleeping beneath the castle, opened his eyes and loosed a roar that rattled bones.
"Is that an earthquake?"
"I heard something under the ground. Was that a dragon?"
The students were shaken by the sudden upheaval, and the professors were not much calmer.
Only Gandalf and Galadriel kept a level composure, though both showed clear surprise.
"Silence," Kael said.
His voice boomed through the hall like thunder. The babble broke off at once. Every face turned to him, waiting.
"Headmaster, has something happened?" Professor Edward asked, worry on his face. He plainly had no idea what had just occurred.
The other professors also looked to Kael for an explanation.
He, too, wore a trace of surprise and, beneath it, genuine delight. Smiling, he said in a soothing tone, "There is no need to be anxious. The castle has had a small… incident, but it is a good one. It seems that a new companion has grown impatient to meet you all."
Companion? The word drew puzzled looks all around.
"Everyone, raise your wands," Kael said the next moment.
Though still confused, the students held up their wands obediently.
The professors did the same.
Kael swept his wand, sending a filament of silver up into the clouds on the ceiling. The clouds flared with the same light and seemed to gain a strange pull.
Silver threads began drifting from the tips of every raised wand in the hall, drawn upwards and towards the glowing vapour.
Gasps went around the hall.
Many of the new first‑years had not even learned their first spell yet. And now, without knowing how, they had been part of magic they did not understand.
Gandalf and Galadriel lifted their hands as well. Upon their fingers, rings only they could see gleamed, pouring out their own great power into the gathering.
The clouds above were flooded with silver, luminous and mysterious.
At last, the cloud thinned. In the heart of the light, something began to take shape.
It was like a ghost, yet more solid than any ghost. Unlike the pearly grey spectres the students knew, this being had colour.
He was short, no taller than a Hobbit, with a wide face, a big mouth, and round, beady eyes. His hair and eyes were black; his skin was a dead pale. He wore bright, mismatched clothes, a tie, a pointed nightcap, and little clown shoes.
The overall effect was absurd but vivid. Most of all, his quick‑darting eyes radiated restless mischief.
He spotted the rows of students below. His gaze gleamed, he let out an unearthly whoop, and plunged down.
He shot low over the children's heads, making them yelp and duck as they covered their hair with their hands.
He snatched up a handful of hats and flung them wildly about, cackling with glee.
The students stared at the capering creature, stunned.
"What is that? Is it a ghost?" someone asked, voice trembling.
Just as the newcomer seemed ready to start another round of torment, Kael's clear voice rang out from the high table.
"That is quite enough, Peeves. No mischief."
The creature froze in mid‑air and turned to float up in front of Kael.
Something in him felt instinctively drawn to the wizard. His round black eyes roved over Kael, and he tilted his head. "Peeves? That is my name?"
He did not wait for an answer. He spun about in mid‑air, bouncing and capering as though the word itself were a song.
"Ha ha! Peeves! I like that name. From now on, I am the great Mr Peeves!"