Dinner Disaster

Peeves was ecstatic. He had himself the Deflagration Deluxe Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs pack, acquired from an anonymous source, and he was going to use it. Pieces of brown paper wrapping were still trailing from the package as Peeves soared through the air above the dining students. He had been too eager once he had opened this surprise to bother with unwrapping it appropriately.

Peeves settled himself on the chandelier. Seems the students were very busy eating and talking, so he suspected that few would notice him. If things went well, no one would be forewarned that good 'ol Peevsy was around. With a quick scan of the Dining Hall to see if the Bloody Baron was around, Peeves lit the punk that had come with the package. It had the ability to be lit merely by a bit of friction against the rough paper of the box, which made things much easier for the Poltergeist to wreak havoc. Peeves dropped the punk inside the box and threw it up into the air. The box seemed to hang for a few moments, Peeves watching it in avid anticipation. With an earsplitting KABOOM! the box blew apart, and the fireworks started.

Peeves cackled insanely as he drifted about the ceiling to watch the after-effects of his newest prank. The shape of a huge, fire-breathing dragon emerged from the smoke cloud and swooped towards the Slytherin table...flames were erupting from its mouth. No less than five rockets rocketed out of the cloud next, shooting at the Hufflepuffs, trailing a long tail of red-hot sparks. The Catherine wheels spun at the Ravenclaws, and another dragon was flaming towards the Gryffindors. Peeves was riding the second dragon, laughing fit to burst, swinging his hat in the air as if in some sort of 'Fireworks-dragon-riding' rodeo. As he rode the dragon in a big circle around the Great Hall, more Catherine wheels, rockets, and various other sparkly and explosive things flew from within the dense smoke cloud that was now beginning to spread throughout the entire area.

"Wheeee!" he cried, barely able to be heard over the din, "Run, you little squirts! Run! Don't want to get your little tootsies and footsies burned by a big bad dragon!"

((And in case it was not clear...no, they are not real dragons. They are fireworks shaped like dragon that spit flames, but not flames quite as large as a real dragon would produce.))

Derry was wolfing down his breakfast at record speed, looking forward to rushing outside and flying on his broom. None of his Hufflepuff friends - not that he had that many - were around and so breakfast was rather boring and uneventful. Derry would skip his meals if he could; that's how much it annoyed him to have to sit still and eat three times a day.

In the middle of nearly swallowing a muffin whole, he heard a loud explosion and the ecstatic yelling of Peeves as the most magnificent dragon fireworks ever exploded into the Great Hall. Derry grinned radiantly at the sight! He stood up on the table, clapping enthusiastically and yelling hoorahs and wooos to congratulate his ghost idol, Peeves.

That was until one of the dragons headed in his direction, breathing fire straight into his startled face. His red hair burst into his flame and his face was blackened and searing with pain. Half his clothes were burned off as well, his shirt dangling to the ground in tatters. And his pants: well, let's say he was more or less in his underwear at this point.

"Ouch," he whispered between chuckles. If it weren't for the soot on his face, Peeves would have been able to see that he was blushing in embarassment. Despite it, Derry found the situation side-splitting and had trouble holding his stomach in laughter. Every chuckle hurt, however, as his whole body was singed. Derry was almost nearly bald as well, although little clusters of red hair stood up here and there.