April 10th, 1895 - A Winding Staircase, Free/Study Period

That horrible cackling was the only warning Cori had – but it honestly should have been enough (perhaps she was dictating too much of her time to studying for her OWLs and not, say, sleeping)…

Sadly, it wasn’t.

Peeves came sliding down the stair rails, swinging his arms and kicking his legs about as he chanted a nonsense rhyme about how his fun was greater; considering he was noncorporeal, it felt very initial when he knocked a flaying limb into the small stack of tomes resting in her hands as he flew by.

She struggled for a half a second to keep everything in hand, but ultimately failed. The momentum of the thick library tomes careening out of her arms and onto the stairs made her stumble mid-step, immediately off-balance. The flat of her heel caught along the nearest stair edge, sliding instead of catching and tipping her backwards—

Right into whoever had been climbing up the staircase behind her.

Thankfully, neither of them had gotten far from the landing, so there were less than a few steps to tumble down before coming to a stop; still, the pair landed in a loud mess of limbs and robes within a few seconds.

All the while, Peeves didn’t even stop, either: no, the blasted poltergeist simply whooped obnoxiously as he swan-dived through the floor and out of sight (hopefully he'd stay gone, too, as the nuisance had a tendency to circle back when he caused havoc).

“Bloody spook,” she hissed under her breathe - perhaps letting her temper flare just a touch too visibly - before sitting up and untangling her legs from those of the somewhat familiar Ravenclaw she’d fallen on; “Are you alright, Mr. Glynn?”

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Cadogan Glynn

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   Cadogan Glynn

He really hadn’t been paying that close attention, if he was being honest. Cadogan had his nose in a notebook, scribbling down a half-formed theory for his Transfiguration homework – it was one of the few classes he actually excelled at, and he hoped that Professor Foxwood would find his essay interesting to read. He’d been taking the stairs like he always did, carefully, quietly, with one hand resting lightly on the banister because one never knew when they were going to turn.

He heard the cackle the second before it happened.

Peeves.

Cad flinched instinctively, already ducking his head, although he quickly found that it wasn’t going to do him any good as he saw the flash of motion above him: books and flailing limbs. The Peeves had picked a victim and it certainly wasn’t him. (Yet. Cadogan hoped it stayed that way.) She fell backward into him before he could even bring a hand up to catch her, and they tumbled backward onto the landing. His robes were all twisted, one of his sleeves somehow flipped halfway inside out, not that he noticed.

An elbow was digging into his side and the sharp corner of a staircase step was pressing uncomfortably against his shoulder blade, but not really hurt enough to complain about it. She shifted first, untangling himself. It wasn’t until she spoke that her name clicked into place: Miss Dursley, a Hufflepuff.

“I – yes. Fine.” He said, sitting up slowly as he rubbed the back of his neck, already feeling some warmth crawling up his skin. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?” She sounded angry enough that might have, although Cad found the question safe. It was better than pointing out the obvious that she had taken a tumble. Cad glanced around. “I bloody hate Peeves.”

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Corinne Dursley

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"No," she barely kept from scoffing at the question, because it was a kind and sensible thing to ask – she was just so annoyed at getting caught off guard by Peeves of all things—

Taking a deep breath, she took a quiet moment or two required to roll onto her knees to attempt to collect her temper (and reign in her sharp tongue) before continuing: "You, apparently, broke my fall."

Dusting off the parts of her robes and skirts she could reach, she gave a brief glance at her scattered books on the stairs. The battered texts could wait a moment; while she wasn’t not the warmest Hufflepuff about, it would be beyond Cori to just leave a possibly injured classmate – injured especially because of her – in a state. She carefully shuffled closer along the floor, before pressing her palms to the floor and leaning towards the other fifth year with an appraising look.

"I believe it would be more appropriate to ask: are you alright?"

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Cadogan Glynn

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