It's ABSTRACT Art

Peeves had no boundaries. He saw something like the art room and did not think about how that might, for whatever reason, be off limits. In fact, he thought he had the most right to attend the classes. He was born in a different century, had been denied magical training and educating, and yet had been stuck in a school for over a thousand years… He was allowed to learn a thing or two.

So, he was not sure why the occupants had cried out in surprise when he had zoomed through the open door and seized tubes of paint. And for a group that was so pro-expression and of the belief that ‘art is art’ they were really uptight when someone started squeezing paint all over the walls and the students working.

Peeves cackled. “Colors! Look at the colors! Peeves is artsy fartsy!”

"PEEVES." The shout was not an exclamation. It was a stern voice, filled with ambivalence and a calm, perhaps burning distaste for the prospect of dealing with the overtly expressive ghoul himself. James Wake was generally a patient young man, but this prankster was not high on James' list of acceptable farces. He approached the hallway, wand already in hand, and spell on the tip of his tongue. There were a list of options on the spells he could perform upon the poltergeist, but his job was to ensure the safety of the students. The Head Boy badge, however, was nowhere to be found. He had learned to avoid identification of that manner, due to the pilfering wiles of a few young folk.

"You've made your point. Now how about it do it on a more... permanent canvas?"

Peeves turned around at the sound of a familiar voice. The tubes he had in his hands were upside down a trickle to orange and purple were dripping to thr ground, meeting and swirling together. His surprised and almost stupid expression hung on his face for a second- eyebrows up, jaws slack. He allowed his eyes to slide until they had crossed before he brigtened.

He bobbed upwards, his face cracking into a grin. "Mister Wake has found us out!" he said. With a small pop, he faded from view and he zipped around until he was behind James. He blew loudly in his ear. "I make music too! Ear that? GET IT! EAR!"

Cackling, he zoomed up to the ceiling, fading back into visibility. He turned around, smirking at James. "Make art with me, James!" And he squirted the paint out at him.

James Wake stood still, accepting the jester's loud outburst with nothing more than a twinge of dissatisfaction. However, when the poltergeist invisible once again, James drew his wand, his eyes cautiously gauging his position from the sound of the shrewd creature's voice. It was not as hard as some made it out to be, nor was it simple, but the poltergeist's ego and lunacy made the job all the more easier. The paint was easily counter-acted with a twitch of his wand.

"Peeves, these better be Water-based, or I will make some poor first-year prankster clean it up with a toothbrush. A little lesson in why pranking is not a grand career choice."