Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow-tie and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face. ‘Nibbles?’ he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus. ‘No thanks,’ said Hermione. ‘Heard you talking about poor Myrtle,’ said Peeves, his eyes dancing. ‘Rude you was about poor Myrtle.’ He took a deep breath and bellowed, ‘OY! MYRTLE!’ ‘Oh, no, Peeves, don’t tell her what I said, she’ll be really upset,’ Hermione whispered frantically. ‘I didn’t mean it, I don’t mind her – er, hello, Myrtle.’ The squat ghost of a girl had glided over. She had the glummest face Harry had ever seen, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles. ‘What?’ she said sulkily.‘How are you, Myrtle?’ said Hermione, in a falsely bright voice. ‘It’s nice to see you out of the toilet.’ Myrtle sniffed. ‘Miss Granger was just talking about you –’ said Peeves slyly in Myrtle’s ear. ‘Just saying – saying – how nice you look tonight,’ said Hermione, glaring at Peeves. Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously. ‘You’re making fun of me,’ she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes. ‘No – honestly – didn’t I just say how nice Myrtle’s looking?’ said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron painfully in the ribs. ‘Oh, yeah ...’ ‘She did ...’ ‘Don’t lie to me,’ Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder. ‘D’you think I don’t know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!’ ‘You’ve missed out “spotty”,’ Peeves hissed in her ear. Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with mouldy peanuts, yelling, ‘Spotty! Spotty!’ ‘Oh, dear,’ said Hermione sadly.
