Yes, Violet had already started picking up things, she didn't need this fourth year telling her what to do all the time. Sheesh, at 14, she was probably only about a year younger than her, after all.

Hmmmm, Peeves, she mused as she looked at the slightly bent handle of the trophy she was holding and cautiously bent it back into shape with her hand. It could have been him, she supposed, though for some reason the atmosphere just seemed a little eerier than that usually caused by the school poltergeist.

She sighed a little as she put the trophy--you could really hardly tell it had been bent now unless you really looked--back on the shelf she thought it belonged on. She could probably forget about getting to read that letter now, at least for a while. Why were there always so many people milling around Hogwarts when you wanted to be alone?