Sir Nicholas was floating around the castle aimlessly. Up through floors, out through walls. At the sight of the four hourglasses, he paused. He gave a sigh, his semitransparent chest puffing out and deflating, realising that his precious Lion cubs were coming in last.

First he and Lady Helena could not see eye to eye, and now this.

They had quite the dilemma on their ghostly hands. Sir Nicholas and the Friar believing a betrothal between Peeves and Miffy to be the way to maintain the safety of their students, but the Baron and dear Lady Helena believing a betrothal to be more dangerous. It was a dismal situation.