Aslan grit her teeth, Lucy's whimpering her was making her feel just as nauseated as the slime she was coated in. It was the kind of noise- like nails on a chalkboard- that left her skin prickling. Where was her wand, she searched her pockets and her hair while Althea threatened the un-shaking Poltergeist, but found the rod nowhere on her person- she scowled, holding back her heavy hair and looking to the slick-slimy ground and there it was, right by her foot and just as soaked with slug goo as his owner.

Clumsy, Aslan kneeled down, taking up her wand and pointing it at Peeve's from just behind.

Skurge, Skurge, Skurge, Skurge

the non-verbal charm shot several vivid green lights from her wand tip towards Peeve's semi-corporal form.

Aslan Evans was over this.