Evan knew very well the general rule of thumb was to try to avoid the Weasley Swamp, probably particularly so when there had been evidence Peeves liked to come here to use the contents for his own personal chaos. Which... kudos for the poltergeist for being resourceful at least. But Evan was not here for anything along those lines. He'd just been sitting and thinking about all the different types of creatures they were, both magical and mundane, and how they all preferred specific climates. And then he got to wondering if the fifth floor swamp had more in it's contents than just awful smelling water. Was there creatures too? And was there any special type of creatures because of it's magical origin?

Was the seventh year expecting to find a swamp monster? Not particularly, no. But... imagine how fun it would be if he did.

Walking closer to the swamp, book bag that had been over his shoulder slowly lowered to the floor a distance away, Evan stepped closer. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the odors wafting his way, and he momentarily wished he'd brought a mask, but he proceeded regardless peering over the rope to see if he could spot anything. Could some of the slugs be up here?

Having made a quick stop by Professor Strum's to ask about some weird engravings on some scrap metal he had come across and make sure that if he melted it down he wasn't going to be cursed or something. Thankfully the pieces were cleared and now occupied his pocket along with a couple other random inhabitants and was now on his way back to the Gryffindor common room when the staircases got him all turned around and now he was wandering down this corridor for attempt number three or four ... or something.

The staircases were being particularly impossible today for whatever reason.

Turning the bed and emerging on the opposite end as a certain older Ravenclaw who was inspecting the swamp rather intensely. Atlas was tempted to just tip toe on by, and he suspected it would be easy for him to slip by unnoticed since this was one of the Nams, but his mouth had other intentions. "Didn't drop something in there...did you?" he found himself asking suddenly while running his thumb along the underside of the strap of his bag around his shoulder area. "You'll need at least some fishing gear to try and get it out...and Accio isn't a reliable method."

...not that he was speaking from experience. Ahem.

Was there such a thing as the 'Seven magical mysteries of Hogwarts'? Because there should have been - and this should have been the top of the list. Or... somewhere on the list, given the endless possibilities with the Room of Requirement still a bit flustered the seventh year whenever he tried to determine it's exact magical properties and how it could do... well.. everything. He supposed the Pit of Slugs could have been up there as well, for no other reason than... why?

Evan continued to peer into the murky swamp before him, before a voice startled him from behind and he tipped forward ever so slightly. Putting a hand out in front of him as he teetered forward, the Ravenclaw was able to save himself from a face full of Swamp water, unlike a majority of his poor Hufflepuff friends, but he did not save his arm from being covered in muck. Frowning, the boy stood up, attempting to shake the excess water from his arm carefully over the swamp before he turned, a frown on his face which was very much just from his now smelly arm and not at all because of the current company. Not that that was ever well known based on Evan's face.. in general. "Ever wonder why it is accio, or most magic really, doesn't work on this?" Maybe part of his list should have been to figure out the answer to that.

As if he would be able to when generations and generations before him never had.

"I take it you've lost things here before?" The question certainly sounded like it came from experience, anyways.

He should maybe feel a little sorry for startling Evan and getting his arm covered in muck, but Atlas was not feeling in a particularly charitable mood and there was a rope around the place for a reason. Not that he was one to totally ignore the big red buttons that said 'do not push'. Plus he was too busy working on not being bitter and petty towards the Nam name. Was he doing a good job of that? Not even remotely, but at least his face did not look like he had just stepped in dragon dung or anything like that. It was easy enough to remain pleasant on the outside while mulling over a thought.

"...I just assumed there was too much magical interference. Maybe if you concentrated a swarm of Chizpurfles on the area then all the interference may be weakened enough that magic could be applied," he said with a shrug. "Oversaturating anything with magic will have some sort of effect. Sponges have a limit for soaking up liquid before you need to wring it out." There was a lot to magical theory and literally every situation was different. He had done a bit of reading about this and that from his dad's private library - especially the books that he said were off limits.

He was, however, starting to suspect it was a bit of reverse psychology being used on him by the man.

"...I...may have..." he said with a noncommittal shrug and then wry chuckle. "There is probably a whole treasure trove down there fit for a dragon at this point, honestly."

Evan was blissfully unaware of whatever the hard feelings were surrounding Atlas and his sister or... sisters, if that was what it was. He knew Lisa had been involved in a lot of drama over the last year, but given the lift in her spirits recently he'd been under the assumption she had settled all that needed to be settled with the people in her life. But then again, he also didn't know the details of with who and for what the reasons for the initial distress was - perhaps with the exception of Serena which was the only name he recalled being spoken.

Listening to the theory, Evan considered for a moment before nodding. There was clearly sense in what the fifth year was saying, especially given the evidence Hogwarts and the other magical schools often displayed with issues arising due to the over saturation. Whether that be from the magic itself, or just the abundance of teenagers and their hormones and feelings. Too much of a good thing (or ... anything) certainly was not always best. "That certainly makes sense. Getting that many chizpurfles sounds far too difficult to test the theory." Too bad, that could have been a fun project as well.

A treasure trove, huh? "Hogwarts own lost and found." Or... lost and lost. Though if he was already wanting to fish for magical creatures, maybe it didn't have to be just lost. "Do you have fishing gear by chance?" The assumption would be the answer was no, considering why would Atlas have given up on whatever had been lost to the murk if so but... worth the ask.

Calm. Calm calm calm....calmcalmcalmcalmcalm. He was calm and cool like a cucumber - which was such a weird expression and he never could understand why people decided cucumbers were cool. Like the sticking tongues out of the mouth as being a gesture of being cool. Those were the greater mysteries of the universe, more so than the magical properties of the Weasley Swamp. Maybe. Sort of. Being in front of said body of water now had him distracted.

"Not to mention a full blown infestation could render Hogwarts incapacitated and them consume all the ancient magic here. Could single handedly bring the United Kingdom's wizarding education to its knees and then be carted off to Azkaban." Just as some additional food for thought. He was pretty sure he remembered hearing or reading about some time when that sort of thing had happened to the Ministry and it was a whole mess. Long long time ago though. Practically ancient history at this point, right?

Atlas chuckled lightly and tried to come up with something else other than lost and found (lost and sunk, maybe) while he stared at the ropes around the swamp. His focus, a proper zoning out really, almost had him missing the way in which those same ropes had begun to shake. Subtle at first, it was amped up soon enough and the ropes began to shake so violently that they appeared to be more of a blur than physical rope. His eyes refocused, pupils dilated, and head titled to the side in a sort of confused fascination...when suddenly the ropes FLEW off from where it stood as a barrier and hurtled itself right for the Gryffindor. Effectively clotheslining him square in the stomach, Atlas was thrown backwards by the flying rope and pinned against the wall by it as it tangled itself around him like a boa constrictor.

So...no, Evan. He did not have a fishing rod...JUST A VERY REAL PROBLEM HERE.

... Huh. He had a point there as well, though truthfully for terms previous bringing the wizarding education to it's knees didn't seem like such a poor idea. Imagine having been able to round up an infestation back when Rosier was around. Wouldn't that have been quite the sight. "Isn't it always strange to think something so small can be so influential in mass destruction?" It was something he thought about Lisa often. She was a force, a tiny force, but still one none the less. "But you're probably also right that such an experiment would not be worth a iife time in Azkaban." There were plenty of people there he would rather never set eyes upon again.

After having asked about the fishing gear, Evan had shifted his body to have his back towards the Swamp, focusing on Atlas while waiting for a response - despite feeling like he already knew the answer. He noticed the change in the Gryffindor's expression, but an eyebrow simply rose as he did so. He was in the process of turning his head to see what was beyond him causing such a look when rope came whizzing by him and headed directly towards Atlas. His mouth opened in an O as he watched the rope drag him backwards to the wall, as Ev whipped his own wand from his holster and glanced behind him. "What in the world?" That... hadn't seemed purposeful. Was this a weird new magic from the Swamp?

Standing, Evan jumped back from the edge, both out of protection and to try to get closer towards Atlas who seemed... very much uncomfortable. "Are you alright!?"

Dumb question.

Did someone call for a very real problem?

At your SERVICE!

Except, once again, Peeves was careful not to be noticed - as careful as he was ever willing to be, at least. Invisible once more, he peered around the corner at the situation here with these two little swamp rats. Wheezy giggly snickering, he brandished his book in the direction of the boy (Evan) not being set upon by a bunch of ropes.

Before he could cackle too loudly and give himself away, Peeves - very pleased with himself - turned about and flew away again. Give it a few minutes, and his very generous gift would make itself known. Let it never be said that Peeves was not a fair and benevolent poltergeist. Gifts for all!

"Even the smallest creature can change the course of the future," he replied with a somewhat resigned tone to paraphrase a quote not from the book of a certain series he was very fond of and was a call back to a conversation with Evan's sister before...well...before everything turned sideways. It was weird, ironic maybe, how applicable the quote was to his own petty bruised ego and incessant need to subtly take it out on the Ravenclaw.

Anyway. He still felt as though he was doing a good job of not being too obvious and reigning it all in still.

But, before he could really delve into a tangent thought about hos some experiments were probably worth imprisonment and historically proven to be such, another small thing had taken center stage and it was a whole situation. The conscious desire to remain amicable and calm went right out the window thanks to the ropes and not knowing what in Jupiter's thunderbolt was going on here. So, unfortunately for Evan, the question was indeed received as a dumb on and Atlas a less-than-moderately rabid thrashing lion caught in a net.

"Do I look alright?" he snipped back while trying to pull wiggle an arm loose so he could try and yank the ropes away from himself. The more he thrashed, however, the more twisted up he got...and the rope even seemed to taunt him with its ends flicking against his cheek and nose. "Get OFF me you useless bit of twisted up hemp!"

"What a prime reason to not judge a book by it's cover. Or... the size of it." Something he was all too guilty of. Between two books in the library, Evan was always far more likely to grab the book with more pages than the alternative. More information that way. But who was to say that the small book wasn't just denser in it's content? Less frivolous in the authors writing.

But there was not much time to think on that now. Nor was there time to have noted Peeves entrance even if he hadn't been invisible. The ropes around Atlas were quite... concerning. And given the fact his question WAS dumb, Evan didn't take offense to the snap back from the younger male. There wasn't much room to be offended anyways, considering the primary concern probably should have been attempt to get the ropes off of the Gryffindor. Ev considered trying Finite Incantatem but considering the ropes came from the Swamp which didn't react to magic in general, it seemed a waste of effort. So instead he just tried to grab a wriggly end of it as well to help pull it off Atlas.

Except before he could get any type of a grip, he felt weird and then hunched himself over until suddenly the pose felt very natural - as if he'd shifted into something four legged. A quick glance down, confirmed the absence of hands and feet and the presence of... hooves. Evan stamped one of those hooves against the floor in agitation, a loud hum escaping the back of his throat. He was briefly aware of the fact this was NOT right, but his eyes were once again drawn to the ropes wrapped around Atlas.

... Maybe ropes would be tasty.

Another step forward, and Alpaca!Evan was in his own way still attempting to offer assistance with the removal of ropes. Except... this time it was also for sake of a mid day snack as he attempted to chew at them.