The swamp was NOT a place for hanging out. The smell... Merlin. The smell was terrible. And occasionally, the goopy soupy mess made a burping sound as a bubble of gas escaped, where it exploded and send shivers of mud in all directions. No, Katy didn't want to stay here too long.

She did want those cat tails, though, and it was going to be a moment before seh figured out how to get there. She didn't want to get her shoes dirty or track that nasty mud back up the corridor with her, but it wasn't like she could fly.

So far this term, Callum had successfully kept his secret. He had always kept an eye out for someone trailing him and made sure none of his friends were in the defense training room before he would enter to get in a good workout. Puberty was doing odd things to his body - mostly good, like his growing height, but it left him... a bit... scrawny. He was awfully thin, but he had his heart set on beefing up. Muscles, he wanted them. His arms, his chest, his stomach, his legs - he wanted tone everywhere.

Well, at least where a certain Jael Greenwell might notice and appreciate, especially when they went swimming together.

And thus he went every day, avoiding the peak hours of activity within the room, and - as far as he knew - the only one who had ever known he was there was Hirsch, but Callum did not mind that the professor knew. His secret was safe with him, surely; the Gryffindor trusted that the man whose room he was frequenting daily was a good man, one who wanted to see the fourth year in there working as avidly as he was. So everything was fine.

Except today, there was a minor misstep on his part: one of his very best friends (and cousin) was hanging out in the corridor of which he had just turned the corner to get to his destination. There was a brief moment when he considered just backing right on up around the corner and taking an alternate route to approach the room from the other side, but he was already here, and surely Katy could see him in her peripheral vision. No choice but to continue onward, then.

"What are you doing?" Callum laughed lightly as he approached, turning his curious gaze from Katy to the swamp, then back to her. "Did you drop something in it?"

She didn't even question the appearance of Callum, since he was her Callum and would obviously show up just when she needed him. Instead, Katy touched his arm to let him know she saw him, and then set about twisting her hair up. Mud on her shoes would come out but mud in her hair would break her spirit.

"I need cat tails, and they have them here. I think these might even be better than regular ones, because these are already magically enhanced, and that might make any potion that uses them more powerful." Without asking permission, Katy looped her arm through his and leaned waaaaaaay out over the mud. "Oh, Cal. You got muscles!"

Callum actually took a step backward, allowing Katy the room to do whatever she was about to do - he did not know what was happening at first, but he did know when Katy was about to do something either remarkable or potentially disastrous, and this was one of those times. When the hair went up, things were about to get wild.

"Cat tails?" he murmured softly, echoing her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. For potions? It... was certainly logical to him that these might work better for potions, but what was her angle here? Did she want to be the best in potions class when the time came to use these cat tails, or was she using this as an opportunity to experiment on her own time and see if the results differed between these cat tails and their standard ones? What was her purpose?

Whatever the case, Callum was actually quite excited to see how this little adventure was going to go. "I'd offer to levitate you out over it so you can grab 'em, but I'd be too worried--" Oh, he was her rock, then, yes? He braced himself, knees slightly bent and locked into place, and stood as still as a statue as Katy leaned out to try to grab them. She wasn't particularly heavy, but he hadn't been working out that much yet, and he worried that if she lingered out there too long, he wasn't going to be able to pull her back up - or, even worse, she'd take him down with her. Worse things had happened in his life, but that didn't make this a preferable situation.

His muscles? "Shut up," he laughed a little, glad she was focused on retrieving the cat tails so she would not see the pinkish tint of embarrassment that had arisen upon his cheeks. He was not wavering in his stance too much yet; he was gently pulling away from her, not enough to pull her back up, but enough to keep both of them from leaning too far toward the swamp.

"No offense, Cal, because you're bananas at so many things and I would let you dangle me over a pit of ironbellies... no way I'm letting you levitate me over this mess," Katy plucked two cattails from the first island in the swamp and then immediately scrabbled her way back up onto the safe, dry land. She wrapped her arms around Callum and hugged him tight.

Best cousin friend. It was nice to see him, and if he thought she hadn't noticed that he was getting bigger, then he was very foolish. Can't put anything past this Toussaint.

"You shut up. What are you doing down here?"

The Weasley Swamp was an interesting addition to the first floor, but Henry really never had the notion to explore it. For one, it smelled terrible, plus there was no telling what could be found in there. He was sure he'd get sucked right into it if he tried to step in and he wasn't so sure that was how he'd like to spend his afternoon.

But he still had the attitude of try everything once in the back of his mind and, when his kneazle went exploring down the first floor corridor, Henry decided to follow. He wasn't sure why the feline stopped by the swamp or what caught his attention, but the kneazle was soon gingerly stepping through the more solid parts of the swamp.

"Chewbacca!" Henry called to his kneazle. "You need to come back here." That's all he needed was for his pet to be swallowed up by the swamp. Maybe he should go after him or maybe he should use magic to pull him back. Or maybe he should just let him be while he watched him just in case he needed help. Chewbacca was smart and always going off on his own. And he did always make it back safely so maybe he'd be okay.

The hem of his school robes were drenched in whatever garbage swamps were made of. Levi knew that at some point down the line, possibly once the swamp was out of sight, he'd be able to consider this experience research for the future; one of those moments he liked to file somewhere in his brain as in the 'for future reference' archives. But right now he was mostly concerned with the fact that it reeked, badly, and he had a strong urge to set his robes on fire if that meant the smell could go away.

It's possible that he would have done it had a familiar face not shown up, following after what looked like a kneazle. He'd never been able to tell them apart from regular cats, in truth, which was a reason maybe to have taken care of magical creatures back when he was starting his third year. Levi hadn't, of course. Animals didn't really interest him and the feeling was always mutual.

"Chewbacca, if you find a tarantula about this size--" he lifted his hand and waggled it at the feline, "--be sure to let me know. She decided to go for a walk without my permission." Or rather, he'd let her out. Levi didn't feel like being specific, though. He looked at the cat's (kneazle???) presumable owner. "Hey, Henry."

Keeping his eyes on Chewbacca as he made his way further into the swamp, Henry was still debating on what exactly to do. Though maybe he had made his decision as he was still just watching, waiting to see if his pet needed his assistance. He was so focused on the kneazle that he hadn't noticed anyone else with him until he heard his voice.

Slightly startled by his sudden appearance, Henry snapped his eyes to the other boy. Had he come out of the swamp? The dampened bottom of his robes would suggest so. "Did you lose your pet tarantula?" More importantly, did it go into the swamp? Henry wouldn't be surprised if there were all kinds of spiders living in that swamp, though he didn't know how well they'd fare in the wetter parts of it.

"Hi Levi," he grinned as the other boy acknowledged him. "Were you in the swamp? I've never been.." He didn't exactly have any reason to, not till now, and he turned his eyes towards the kneazle again.

Lose was one way to put it.

Levi smiled, blandly, as he shook off his swamp stained robes. It really was quite smelly. What kind of historic monument was this? Why had anyone thought this would be a good idea? "It's not mine. She, I mean. Charlotte." He felt it important to clarify. Both the ownership and the fact that it had a name. She. That he knew she had a name. Levi had already been judged in the past plenty and openly, by his peers, for not being enamored with magical creatures and animals in general. If he didn't care about puppies or cruppies or kittens beyond passingly thinking they looked cute and showed no inclinations of wanting to pet them, hold them, or coo at them then SURELY there was something deeply wrong with him. Psycho in training or something of the like. "She is an escape artist, that Charlotte." So funny, that Charlotte. "I think she might be pregnant, again. She's been looking a little uh, wide." Levi knew he was probably supposed to sound concerned and so the corners of his mouth dropped down, a little bit.

His nose wrinkled, and he dropped the robes on the floor on a pile next to him. "Chewbacca is," He paused, venturing a glance at Henry's feline companion, "--cute and adventurous."

Henry was somewhat confused by Levi's attempted explanation. If the tarantula was not his, why was he so concerned and why was he looking for it. Her. He supposed that she must belong to a friend and was being helpful. That would make the most sense to him. "Nice name," he chuckled. He did have a good friend who went by the same. Not that he thought this spider was named after her.

"So, uh, was she in your care?" He still wasn't sure he completely understood the situation here, the more Levi spoke about it. Chewbacca could probably be considered an escape artist too, though maybe not in the same way. Kneazles and tarantulas were very different creatures. "Pregnant, huh?" Henry took a moment to consider this. He thought spiders birthed their young quite differently than other types of animals, such as dogs or cats, though he supposed he had never seen one so he wasn't completely sure. "Don't they lay eggs? How many babies can she have?" He envisioned spiders having many eggs and therefore babies at a time. And he wondered what Levi, or whoever the owner was, would do with all of them.

He glanced out into the swamp at his kneazle again at the mention, making sure he was still okay and on steady footing. "Very," he nodded, agreeing with him on both points. "He does like to explore and so far he's not gotten into any trouble because of it." Here's hoping today wasn't the first.

Though he had shaken off his robes, Levi still felt like there was swamp still on him. He felt swamp inside his shoes and he was tempted to take them off because few things were worse than the feeling of wet socks covering your feet. "Is it?" He said, trying to remember a charm that'd help him get clean. "I'd never thought about it before." He'd have given her a MUCH a better name if she was his. Raptor. Devourer. Ticking Bomb. Or maybe Rosita. Something cool, was his point. "I suppose it's nice but it also makes me think of old people." To be clear, Levi thought old people were nice. He just didn't necessarily want to be one anytime soon or possibly ever.

He'd yet to figure out the logistics of avoiding old age without having to die young, but. "You know, I'm not sure." Levi frowned, pushing up his glasses. "But you might be right. Last time she was pregnant and then she wasn't." Levi had not actually bothered to ask for details. "She belongs to my brother, Declan, but he, uh--misplaced her." A constant thing. "I found her and took her with me and then here we are."

Indeed. Levi got down on one knee and began to roll the the hem of his swamp stained pants up to his calves and it was possible he repeated gross many times over as he did so. "How do you keep your guy over there from getting you in trouble? I think I read once somewhere that cats just see humans as big, useless cats." He looked over his shoulder at the cat and stood up and pretended he couldn't feel how dirty his hands were. Then he looked back st Henry, grinning. "And, hypothetically speaking, if I wrote a petition to the headmistress to get rid off this death trap, would you sign it?"

There were other things to worry about aside from a lost tarantula. That tarantula was Charlotte though and he really couldn't sit still through his Divination homework if he couldn't at least know she was safe and not breeding little Charlottes in corners she wasn't supposed to. A whisper had told him Levi was close to finding her. Declan reluctantly left his favorite spot on the floor of his common room to find him and followed the wispy voice to a very smelly spot in the castle.

It was something close to instant regret.

He decided to pretend he didn't feel that.

"I'll sign it too once we find Charlotte."

Henry shrugged a little at Levi's question. In fact, yes, he did think it was quite a lovely name very suitable for the pretty girl he knew. He wasn't as sure how well it fit a tarantula, but he was not one to judge. "Old people?" That was not what came to mind to him at all. "Oh.. well, the Charlotte I know is our age. Do you know an old Charlotte?" He figured sometimes names could have connotations based on the people they were attached to. But that was probably why he liked the name then.

Henry was somewhat curious about spider babies, but not really enough to keep wondering about it. Not when Levi didn't really know either. The thought would probably soon be gone from his mind anyway. "No big deal, I was just sort of wondering. I don't really know anyone else that has a tarantula." Or well, he didn't really know anyone. Charlotte didn't belong to Levi and he wasn't familiar with his brother. "Ah, I see.. are you sure she's in the swamp?" He figured Levi wouldn't have wandered in there without being at least reasonably certain, but he wasn't so sure that the swamp was a good place for a pet. And that was why he was somewhat concerned about Chewbacca.

He watched the other boy vaguely as he tended to his trousers before glancing at his kneazle again. "Kneazles are pretty smart though." Usually. "He doesn't cause too much trouble, even if he probably is too curious for his own good." He couldn't fault him for that though. Henry could sometimes relate. "I don't know about useless, but I did read that cats see us as on their level, so like other cats, while dogs see us as above them." Just a piece of useless trivia, he supposed.

A petition? Henry glanced out at the swamp again, but before he could answer, he heard another voice causing him to turn his head. ".....is Charlotte yours?" It seemed like a likely assumption. Maybe this was Levi's brother then.

Levi couldn't say knew how Declan had tracked him down. But it wasn't uncommon and he didn't need specifics. "I thought she was in the garbage pond," he pointed accusingly at the swamp. To be fair, he'd barely scratched the surface. Thankfully. Perhaps Charlotte had drowned. "Do the thing. The cleaning charm thing, I mean." He turned a little sideways to look at Declan, offered him his swamp-water stained hands, palms up. "Please." Surely that's what older brothers were for.

Faces flashed through Levi's mind as Henry's words registered. "Yeah, that's Kettleburn." A blonde, of which there were many at school so Levi sometimes had a hard time telling them apart. But same year, same house and all that. Levi couldn't say he knew the girl well--he did not know ninety nine point nine percent of the female population of Hogwarts well or at all. He was about to point out that he'd chosen the swamp because Charlotte had been there before, but then lost his train of thought as he became interested in feline dynamics. "Does that mean that if you own a cat--or in your case, Henry, a kneazle--it's even more important to assert your authority to make sure the pet knows you're the leader of their...uh, pack?" Did cats have packs???

"This is Fat Charlotte's negligent father, Declan. My brother." He used his shoulder to try to push Declan forward. Perhaps he'd want to shake Henry's hand. People did that, sometimes. "Declan, this is Henry."

In Althea's absolutely and most genuinely humble opinion: she was perfect. Or, as perfect as perfect can get. Waving off one of her friends (some Gryffindor ginger with cat-like eyes (eyes that reminded Althea of shiny gemstones)), she made her way down the first floor corridor admiring her manicure. Her friend had insisted she give Althea a dazzling surprise and the result was a soothing spa-like experience. Amazing. It was a shame Althea had forgotten her name a while back, or else she'd hang out with her more often. But that was that and this was this as Althea had found herself walking into what she would later say was a trap.

The fourth year collided into the back of some older boy who she didn't know and didn't care to know
"Helga Help me," she shrieked, not because the Collison hurt but because one of her nails on her left hand had smudged. What a disaster. Heads will spin, she thought bitterly and took a step back to survey the situation in front of her.

What followed was the longest eye roll of her life. Her brothers were something akin to that muggle plague she'd read about last summer, the one that wiped out most of their population centuries ago. "Of course" she said loudly. "Of course, of course, of course!!!" She continued, as if it were Declan and Levi's fault that she'd collided into the other boy, who, if Althea cared to remember her housemates looked vaguely familiar (Harold or something?) And then she shot her brothers an accusatory stare. Because when were her brothers not the cause of her endless migraines. "Why am I not surprised?"

It took a while for Declan to turn his head. He was used to disembodied voices and ignoring them. Sometimes that made it difficult to understand that, on occasion, people did speak to him directly. Actual full bodied people with physical forms.

"Uh," he stalled, remembering to speak his thoughts out loud. "Yes...would be the correct answer." He blinked and nodded just in case his mouth had said something different than what he had meant to say.

Garbage pond was a fitting name but Declan was not going to praise his brother, at least not yet. He scrutinized what was on his brother's hands and pulled out his wand, praising himself instead for being so good at cleaning charms, and such a good brother, and yet...he was very very color blind and could not tell what exactly what was on his brother's hands to begin with. It was all just different shades of unsanitary grayness.

"Scourgify," Declan muttered sweeping his wand over Declan's upturned palms. "Be gone, whatever...you muck." While he cleaned there was a name brought up. Instinctively he asked: "Who?" but didn't really care for an answer. He also didn't care for kneazles. Declan pocketed his hands and stood there watching his brother and the other talk. He found the lint at the bottom of one pocket a bit more interesting so he fiddled with it between his thumb and index finger.

His weight shifted. Declan looked back at his brother, the pushy, with a disapproving glare. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Yo," he greeted, hands still in his pocket. "Charlotte is my girl and I need to find her. Nice to meet you." "But I'm not gonna touch you," he wanted to say but found that people got really offended when they were told that. It was hard to explain that he much rather not touch people he wasn't close to...it made his mind flash with images he wasn't keen on seeing. It was much easier just to let people assume he was the rude one of the three siblings.

At least Declan didn't have to worry about being the rude one for long. Atlhea had somehow followed them. Declan thought she heard voices too but she would never say. Just as he was sure she'd never say she was sorry for running into...whatever his name was...Levi's friend. Declan cringed with each of Thea's cries and nodded patiently as he dug one finger into his right ear. "Is that a rhetorical question or am I supposed to answer?"

Miffy was NOT HAPPY. Her Stormie had pulled a great prank, which made Mommy!Miffy SO PROUD of her baby! And what did her husband do?

PUT A BIG STINK IN THE PRANK, THAT'S WHAT.

With a HUFF, Miffy flew straight into the Weasley Swamp area and looked around. There were some BOYS here - cooooooo-wheeeeee - but not her polterman. Not the one she was LOOKING for.

"Oh Peeeeeeeeeeeeevesiepoo? Where aaaaaaare you?"

She needed to have a few WORDS with you.

Right here, woman!

Increasingly grumpy, increasingly angry at his present situation, Peeves had been avoiding Miffy and Storm both. They could fall off the face of the Earth, and this poltergeist would throw a huge party filled with exploding poop baggies and falling chandeliers. He actually fund himself daydreaming about it.

Until he heard her annoyingly nagging voice calling for him.

"What. DO YOU. WANT?" he swooped in close to her, their noses almost touching, his eyes squinted.

THERE he was!

Miffy HUFFED at him and flew straight towards him. How DARE he address her like that! His own WIFE!

"YOU!" she huffed, stopping STRAIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. "Our daaaaaaaaaahling son pulled a great prank, on the HEAD GIRL HERSELF. And what do you do? BE A BIG GRUMPY POLTERDAD, THAT'S WHAT. What do you have to say for yourself?!"

And it had better be GOOD, Peevesie.

-___________________________________________-

Ugh

"I have to say that he is NO SON OF MINE and you BOTH are irritating me! To NOOOOO EEENDDDDDDD!"

Did the whole corridor here him? Because he wanted them to! 'He ruined MY prank! I was there FIRST AND ALMOST GOT TO PELT THE HEADGIRL WITH SLUGS."

He crossed his arms and pouted. "YOU ALWAYS TAKE HIS SIDE!"

*gaaaaaasp*

That was a BAD response, Peevesie. Bad bad BAD!

"We ADOPTED him, remember?! So he's OUR SON, which means that you should be PROUD of him when he does something like this!" HUFFFFF. "You LOOOOOOOVE us, Peevesie!"

Pelt the Head Girl with SLUGS?! Miffy SCOFFED at him, arms crossed across her chest. "Well his prank was BETTER! You should be HAPPY that he's making you look so GOOD! You shouldn't be SHOUTING at him."

"Maybe because he has more SENSE than you do and isn't acting like a BIG BABY! GROW UP, PEEVESIE!" She let out another loud HUFF and flipped her hair dramatically.

Levi could not recall ever seeing his own parents have an argument so a marital spat was the last thing he ever thought he'd be witness to. Especially when the lovers in questions were, well, poltergeists.

Amazing. Hogwarts was truly an education experience.

Gryffindor as he was, however, and a relatively proud one at that, Levi did not think it wise to get involved or even acknowledge it. But the argument was, he supposed, heated, and some confessions of presumable criminal activity against the Head Girl were being thrown around. But if the culprits in question were poltergeists, COULD it even be considered criminal activity?

He looked around at Henry and his siblings. Maybe it was time to get an adult.

But Levi cleared his throat, put on his most brilliant smile. "Master Peeves, Lady Miffy--Do you need us to give you some privacy?"

Declan liked adventure. The more adventures the better! It was weird, since he supposed that kind of thing was better left for his Gryffindor brother but if it meant not thinking about anything he was down for it; however, there were priorities.

Charlotte, his best girl, was top priority.

Arguing poltergeists that had all the infinite time in the world to argue about who knew what was not top priority.

His usual neutral expression faltered, and one corner of his mouth drooped into an awkward half smile.

"I'm sorry about your..." Declan's brown eyes fluttered from semi-solid sentient being to semi-solid sentient being. "Family crisis and I could offer some insight. I had a dream sort of like this about two weeks ago but first, could you point me in the direction of Fat Charlotte?" His plea was genuine and he used his hands to form the roundness of her body. "She's about this size, dark, shiny and a real beauty."

STORM HAD A BETTER BLOODY PRANK????????????

THAT.

WAS.

IT.

Peeves swooped over and dived into the swamp, splattering the brown, murky sludge everywhere nearby. He then POPPED OUT like a woman from a cake. Only less pleasing a sight and more menacing than ever. And also........humming sludge cakes at Miffy.

TAKE THAT, WIFE.

And the brats spoke, and Peeves CACKLED. FAT CHARLOTTE? "Sludgeyyyy PUDGEY CHARRLOTTTEEEE! WHERE ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU?" and he dropped much of the sludge atop their heads.