Harry had assumed that was some kind of counter-invisibility spell, but instead of showing himself, Peeves stuck his rear end out in front of Percy and let rip a series of loud, squealing farts, like a balloon deflating.
Peeves' backside was pressed right up against Percy's face, but because Peeves was a ghost, there was no real physical contact.
Even so, the sight was so ridiculous that Harry, who had seen the whole thing, couldn't help bursting out laughing.
Hearing the laughter, Peeves floated over with his bundle of walking sticks, hovering in front of Harry as he studied him curiously. When he saw Harry's gaze tracking his every movement, he exclaimed in disbelief:
"You can see what Peeves looks like!"
The transparent little goblinish ghost drifted closer, peering at Harry.
He was small and skinny, almost like a goblin in build. His face was wide with a huge mouth, his beady black eyes gleamed with mischief, and a sly, wicked grin seemed permanently fixed there.
His hair, like Malfoy's, was blond, but it stuck up in a wild, uncombed mess. Even his tall hat and the bright green tailcoat he wore looked grubby and stained.
He was a very, very unkempt ghost.
"Yes, I can see you," Harry said, taking his own measure of the spectre. Ghosts lingered in Hogwarts for a very long time, and since they could pass through walls, they knew the castle's secret passageways inside and out.
He wondered whether a ghost could become a borrower. If that was possible, recruiting a few ghosts would let him map out nearly all of Hogwarts' hidden routes in no time at all.
Peeves was still reeling. "No, how can you possibly see me? If you can spot me, how am I supposed to play my pranks? What's your name?"
"Harry Potter."
"Oh, my goodness, you're Harry Potter—that explains it. Of course the saviour can see me, that's only natural.
Most esteemed Mr Harry, could we make a little arrangement? When I'm playing my pranks, could you maybe not give me away?"
Now that he knew Harry's name, Peeves looked completely enlightened.
To wizards, the Boy Who Lived could do anything—so being able to see Peeves was only to be expected.
That, in turn, made Harry think about his lending. Lending did sound a bit like a devil's bargain… but what if he could blame it all on the saviour's "special powers"?
If so, he wouldn't have to develop borrowers in secret anymore.
Peeves, terrified that Harry would interfere with his mischief from now on, kept drifting right up into Harry's face, his big head almost touching Harry's.
Harry couldn't help pushing him away—at which even Peeves was struck dumb with shock, and the other students were no less stunned.
Peeves gaped. "You can actually touch me! Even most spells can't hit me!"
The older Gryffindors started whispering among themselves:
"Is that some kind of magic? Or is it a power only the saviour has?"
"If we could all grab hold of Peeves, we could finally give him what he deserves."
"Exactly. That rotten Peeves has amazing resistance to magic— even seventh-years can barely hit him with their spells!"
Peeves, of course, heard every word. The thought terrified him. If this really was some teachable spell, then with all the trouble he'd caused over the years, every student in the school would be lining up to take a swing at him.
Imagining that future, Peeves immediately began to plead with Harry:
"No, my dear Harry, please don't teach that spell to anyone else, or poor little Peeves will be done for!
I'll go now—right now! From this moment on, Peeves won't ever play tricks in front of Harry again!"
When Peeves vanished after showing himself, the Gryffindors burst into cheers, celebrating what felt like a House victory.
"We've got Potter—Potter can do anything!"
"Hahaha, Peeves is always dropping things on my head. It's about time someone scared him silly. You should've seen his face!"
Several students who had suffered most from Peeves' antics shouldered their way through the crowd to Harry's side, excitedly asking:
"Harry, how could you touch Peeves? Is it a spell? Can we learn it too?"
It was indeed a type of magic, but not from the wizarding world—it was Kamar-Taj's astral projection magic.
Astral projection allowed the soul to leave the body and roam the infinite multiverse in spirit form. It could knock other people's souls out of their bodies, and of course it could also touch souls directly.
Thanks to his chaos magic, Harry had mastered this spell—one that didn't depend on the usual stability of magical power—very quickly. That was how he'd been able to shove Peeves aside.
But there was no way to teach astral projection to these students. Not only was it a difficult art even by Kamar-Taj standards, they also lacked any borrowing target.
Maybe Harry could stand in for the dimensional demon gods himself and become the one his schoolmates borrowed power from—and he already planned to use his "saviour" status as the explanation.
So he flashed them a brilliant smile and said, "It feels like something I was just born able to do. I don't really know how to teach it to anyone."
The students were visibly disappointed, so Harry added:
"But even if I can't teach it, I might be able to 'lend' it to other people. I'm just not very familiar with how to, ah, lend it yet, so you'll have to give me some time."
The first-years lit up again, chanting Harry Potter's name and praising the arrival of their saviour.
Even Percy, their prefect, was quite worked up.
"Up till now, only the Bloody Baron could keep Peeves in line, but now we have Harry as well!
Looks like our common room will be a lot quieter from now on—Peeves won't dare play pranks in front of Harry.
All right, here we are."
The line had stopped at the end of a corridor on the seventh floor, where a large portrait hung on the wall.
It showed a very fat woman in a pink court dress. When she saw the Gryffindor group approach, she asked,
"Password?"
"Caput Draconis," Percy answered.
Hearing the correct password, the portrait swung forward on its hinges, revealing a round hole in the wall, just big enough for one person at a time to clamber through.
Percy turned back to the first-years.
"The password for the common room is 'Caput Draconis'. You'll need to remember it; otherwise, you'll be stuck waiting for someone else to open the way for you."
The students crawled through into Gryffindor Tower's common room—a comfortable, spacious, round room filled with squashy armchairs.
The overall style was old-fashioned and classical, a little like Kamar-Taj, and Harry took an immediate liking to it.
Percy was a very competent prefect. He directed the girls through one doorway; Hermione glanced back at Harry, and under his encouraging smile they parted for the moment.
Once the girls had gone, Percy led the boys through the opposite door, the one on the left.
They climbed a spiral staircase higher and higher. When they reached one of the tower rooms, Harry suddenly felt a strange stirring deep in his chest.
That sensation told him that before long, he would be returning to the other world once again.