"Peeves! I swear, I'll drive you out of Hogwarts! Professor Holmes will definitely—ugh..."
As Douglas stepped onto the staircase, he was greeted by Filch's hoarse, furious bellow. He couldn't help but roll his eyes—why did Filch always seem to retch the moment his name was mentioned?
A familiar, pungent odor hit him next, and his face darkened instantly.
"Peeves, this time, I don't care who tries to stop me!
I, Douglas Holmes, say so!!"
He cast a Disillusionment Charm over himself and crept quietly toward his office.
Passing by Professor McGonagall's office, Douglas gave it a curious glance. With all this racket, it was odd she hadn't come out; she must not be in.
Rounding the corner, he was met with a bizarre scene: the Weasley twins, huddled under a makeshift tent fashioned from a pilfered bedsheet, right outside his office door. They were muttering about something, and water dripped steadily from above.
Filch stood nearby, drenched from head to toe, but the twins stubbornly refused to share their shelter with him. All three occasionally gagged, fighting the urge to vomit.
Mrs. Norris was nowhere near—she'd wisely retreated to a far-off corner.
Peeves stood triumphantly, hands on hips and brandishing a bucket, gleefully flinging ladlefuls of foul-smelling liquid at the trio. Whether by accident or design, his aim was consistently off—most of the stinking water splattered against Douglas's office door.
Seeing this, Douglas felt his blood pressure spike. He barely had time to draw his wand for a surprise attack before—
A piercing shriek rang out as Qian, the house-elf, appeared nearby:
"Ah! Merlin's beard, Peeves, what have you done?!
That's something Professor Holmes made especially—how could you—stop it right now!"
Peeves blinked innocently. "Hehehe... What are you on about? Why would I ever touch the Devil Lord's stuff? We have an agreement—no deliberate attacks, no provocations... Don't slander me... hehehe...
I heard you all say this stuff was rotten. Rotten means it's gone bad and moldy! And according to my agreement with old Professor Moore, I get first dibs on moldy things!"
Under the bedsheet, the Weasley twins whispered:
"Did you hear that? The Professor made this!"
"Blimey, this reeks worse than a Dungbomb. What was he trying to cook in the kitchens?"
"Bet he wanted to feed it to the whole school... ha!"
"George, you reckon 'the whole school' includes us?"
"Fred, I'm afraid so... Wonder what this water tastes like?"
"George, I'll wager Filch knows all about it... hehehe!"
Filch's face was thunderous. If not for the current crisis, he'd have dragged the twins out himself.
He rasped, voice rough from retching, "I can hear you, you little miscreants! I'll tell Mr. Holmes—ugh—he'll never let you off for turning his corridor into this... this mess!"
The twins paled. Something was off tonight. After years of run-ins, they knew Peeves's aim was never this bad. He'd come claiming revenge, but most of the stench ended up on the Professor's door...
They'd decided early on to lay low and avoid more lost House points—no sense making things worse. Most of the stink had been blocked by their Engorged bedsheet shield.
Surely the Professor wouldn't blame them for not guarding the door—they weren't exactly the castle's bouncers!
Qian was nearly in tears, voice shrill and desperate:
"Damn you, Peeves, you don't understand! This is something Mr. Holmes specially—"
Before he could finish, a furious roar echoed through the castle:
"Immortal-Binding Rope—Peach Binding!"
At the sound of those words, Peeves flinched like he'd been hexed.
The twins stared, stunned, at his sudden panic.
Filch, meanwhile, looked positively gleeful, waving for Mrs. Norris to come over—she pointedly refused.
Peeves hurled his half-bucket of stinking water aside and tried to phase through the wall to escape.
But they were all seasoned adversaries by now—everyone knew everyone's tricks.
Before Peeves could get away, a silvery, semi-transparent rope—crackling with tiny bolts of lightning—materialized out of thin air. It wrapped around him from head to toe, binding him up tight in a "peach-shaped" bundle, the rope cinching tighter with every squirm.
With each struggle, the rope only constricted further, and Peeves howled in genuine pain.
His battered top hat—won from then-Headmistress Eupraxia Moore in 1876 and crafted by Madame Bonhabille—tumbled from his head. Qian deftly caught both the hat and the discarded bucket, tucking them away for safekeeping.
Peeves wailed,
"Ahhh... ghost-murder! The ghost killer's back... Professor Boss, save me!
You devilish cheat... you're breaking the agreement... let me go or the contract magic will punish you..."
As his shrieks echoed, ghosts began drifting over, most wearing expressions of distinct disapproval.
The Bloody Baron rattled his chains menacingly, glaring at Douglas.
The Grey Lady hovered above, looking coldly down at both Peeves and Douglas, her disdain plain for all to see.
Sir Nicholas and the Fat Friar floated over to the still-screaming Peeves. Sir Nicholas shot Douglas a brief look of sympathy, then straightened his nearly-detached head and scolded Peeves:
"Peeves, don't forget your non-provocation pact. You've forced him to use that thing again... and that helps no one."
Even the kindly Fat Friar, who often spoke up for Peeves, looked displeased:
"Peeves, I can't help you this time. Remember, the contract applies to you too..."
Peeves finally stopped struggling; experience had taught him that fighting the rope only made it worse. But this time, something was different—the rope felt hot, and it actually hurt.
He blinked his wicked, crafty eyes and put on his best wounded expression:
"I didn't break the agreement—I was going after those two brats and Filch. It's not my fault they were in the way!
Owww, come on, help me out, will you? If he can tie me up today, what's to stop him from tying up all the ghosts in Hogwarts tomorrow?
I can feel it—this rope's changed! It actually hurts me... I'm dying here, ghosts can't take this..."
The Fat Friar glanced at the other ghosts, then at Sir Nicholas, then drifted over to Douglas, offering a sheepish smile:
"Douglas, long time no see! Congratulations on becoming a Professor!
When Pomona told me, I was genuinely happy for you—and for Hufflepuff!"
Douglas took Peeves's hat from Qian and instructed the elf to pour out the rest of the brine.
When the Fat Friar floated over, Douglas offered a warm, genuine smile. After all, back when that "incident" happened, the Friar—also a victim—had tirelessly explained to the other ghosts that Douglas wasn't to blame, sparing him from their collective wrath. Even so, the ghosts still kept their distance.
Ever since Douglas's return to Hogwarts, the ghosts had maintained an unspoken agreement: wherever he went, they avoided. Even the Friar, ever loyal, could only offer a sheepish smile from afar.
Douglas had long suspected they'd held a meeting about it.
Not wanting to make things harder for the Friar, he'd never sought him out on purpose.
"Friar, it's been ages. How have you been at Hogwarts these past few years?"
As he spoke, Douglas deliberately swept his gaze over the nearly hundred ghosts now gathered.
The Fat Friar replied quickly,
"Of course, of course I've been well.
Well, I mean, I'm a ghost—so it's always the same...
But you'd best release Peeves now. You know, even though everyone dislikes him, when it comes to you, they're even more afraid... Especially seeing you use that power again.
Heh... A bunch of people afraid of dying... Even after death, they're still scared of dying..."
At that, a flicker of melancholy and confusion passed through the Friar's eyes.
P.S.: The Immortal-Binding Rope Curse:
A spell invented by Professor Holmes during his student days, originally inspired by the legendary Eastern artifact, the Immortal-Binding Rope. His first attempt to create a magical item failed, but later, drawing on the Patronus Charm and an advanced version of Lumos known as the Righteous Light Charm, he merged positive emotions with high-level Transfiguration and Summoning magic. The result: a conjured rope capable of binding spiritual entities.
During school, this spell proved effective—again and again—on Peeves, though it only worked for a day and only on him.
Some ghosts speculated the rope could even harm true ghosts (though Peeves himself is a poltergeist, not a spirit).
After graduation, armed with a lightning-struck Elder Wand, Professor Holmes upgraded the spell. Now, in addition to positive energy, it also channels lightning.
He once used the enhanced curse abroad against a powerful evil spirit—with remarkable results. The upgraded spell could wound certain spectral entities, and its effects lasted far longer.
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