Chapter 339: The Infiltrator
Everyone, students and professors alike, stared in amazement at the creature cavorting in mid‑air whom the headmaster had just called Peeves.
"Headmaster, what exactly is that?" Deputy Headmaster Edward could not keep the bewilderment from his voice. "He looks like a ghost, but somehow… not quite."
The other professors and the students all turned curiously to Kael, waiting for him to explain.
Kael did not answer at once. Instead, he turned with a smile to Gandalf and Galadriel. "Gandalf, Lady Galadriel, your knowledge is broad and your wisdom deep. You have surely discerned what Peeves truly is. Would you tell everyone?"
"My lady?" Gandalf said, inviting Galadriel to speak first.
Galadriel did not refuse. Her eyes shone with a light of understanding as she examined Peeves with interest. "All things in this world," she said, "when carved and nourished by time, may give birth to a spirit. Ancient forests, rivers, and mountains can all awaken and bring forth such beings. This 'Peeves' is one of that kind, a spirit born of this castle."
There were murmurs of realisation, followed at once by deeper confusion.
"But my lady," Professor Edward pressed on behalf of the rest, "this castle has stood for barely more than ten years. How could a spirit already have formed?"
Galadriel smiled and turned slightly towards Kael. "That is your headmaster's doing. Normally, it takes thousands upon thousands of years for such a spirit to awaken. But this is a castle of magic. Every stone here is steeped in power. That transcends the bounds of time, so it is no surprise a spirit has been born from it."
Gandalf nodded in agreement and added, "If the castle is the cradle, then the children's laughter and their boundless energy are the food that nurtures the spirit. In that sense, Peeves is a sort of 'sprite' born from the bond between the castle and the children."
Now everyone understood. They looked at Peeves with a new kind of awe.
So that was the story behind his birth.
He was, in a way, the spirit of Hogwarts itself.
And as the castle's spirit, there was likely no one who could command its power more fully than him, save only Kael, its master.
Yet when they watched Peeves leaping and zooming about, sending floating candles scattering, flicking hot wax at the students, and grinning wickedly all the while, the professors could not help the twitch at the corners of their eyes.
This castle spirit did not look particularly reliable. He was far too lively and fond of mischief.
No wonder the headmaster had named him Peeves. Everyone, especially Edward, who was responsible for the day‑to‑day running of the school, had a rather ominous feeling.
In Edward's eyes, Peeves was no different from the naughtiest child he had ever seen. In fact, he had never yet met anyone quite so incorrigible.
He had a strong premonition that this being had not appeared to help them at all, but rather to add trouble.
From this day on, the future would likely be far less peaceful.
Kael himself was a little at a loss as he watched.
Because the image of Peeves loomed so vividly in his mind when he had helped coax the castle's spirit into being, his thoughts had unconsciously followed that pattern.
The result was that, once born, the new spirit's appearance and temperament had both taken their cue from that memory of Peeves.
He could not help regretting it. If he had only reined in his wild imagination when he cast the spell, they might now have had a calm, steady "ghostly steward" instead.
But the deed was done and could not be undone.
As the spirit of the castle, Peeves would not disappear so long as Hogwarts was neither razed to the ground nor left utterly ruined and empty.
On the contrary, as more and more students came to study here, their roiling emotions and stray magic would constantly feed him, making him grow stronger with the turning years.
Within the bounds of the castle, this was Peeves's domain. Aside from Kael, no one had any true power to curb him.
Like a ghost, he was immune to physical force, passing effortlessly through walls and hurtling about wherever he pleased.
Ordinary magic could not truly affect him, either. Even the darkest curses could at most restrict his movements, never destroy him.
Yet he was not quite the same as a ghost. Ghosts could not touch the solid world at all. Peeves could.
His only constraint was that, as the spirit of the castle, he could not leave its grounds.
Leaving the topic of Peeves for the moment, Kael noticed the hour was late. He declared the feast over and told the students to return to their dormitories.
The four Heads of House had no time to dwell on the castle sprite. They gathered their new first‑years and led them away to their respective common rooms.
As they filed out, the students buzzed with excited talk of Peeves.
Kael watched the poltergeist zip out of the Great Hall and off into the depths of the castle to explore. He did not intervene.
Instead, supporting Arwen, he walked back towards the Tower of Amon Sûl with Gandalf and Galadriel.
After Galadriel had escorted Arwen to the bedchamber to rest, Gandalf sat in an armchair by the hearth in the sitting room, teasing the fire‑lizards in the flames with the poker. He puffed on his pipe and glanced sideways at Kael, who sat with his brows drawn tight in thought.
"Kael, you are troubled," Gandalf said quietly.
Kael nodded. His expression was grave, his eyes deep.
"During the feast just now, I felt a hostile gaze," he said. "It came from the direction of the students."
"A hostile gaze?" Gandalf stopped smoking and looked up. "You are certain it came from among the students, Kael?"
"I am," Kael replied. "It was very well hidden, and it withdrew quickly, but it definitely came from there.
"And you know as well as I do, Gandalf, that I possess the gift of Legilimency." His voice grew heavier. He met Gandalf's eyes. "I reached out to read the students' thoughts.
"And found nothing. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary."
Gandalf's face grew as serious as his.
He did not doubt Kael's senses. He also knew all too well the reach of Kael's Legilimency, such that even he had to keep his mind firmly guarded if he wished to avoid discovery.
There was no way a first‑ or second‑year student could withstand such probing.
For Legilimency to show nothing amiss—that, in itself, was what was most unnatural.
The only explanation was that whoever had been hiding among the students could evade Kael's gift.
Such a feat was entirely beyond the power of any ordinary child.
"You suspect someone has taken on a student's guise and slipped into the school?" Gandalf asked, voice low.
Kael inclined his head. "It is the only theory that fits. I do not believe any child that age would harbour such malice towards me, let alone hide from my Legilimency."
"What do you intend to do?" Gandalf asked.
"There is no need to rush," Kael said. "First, I will look at the names in the Book of Admittance and see if anything stands out."
He took a pinch of Floo Powder from the pot, tossed it into the fireplace, and stepped straight into the green flames.
A minute or two later, the fire flared emerald again, and Kael stepped back out, holding a thick dragonhide‑bound book in his arms.