Before Peter had a chance to retaliate, the dungbomb exploded, covering them both in stench and smoke. Al tried Silencing the poltergeist, but he just spun away cackling again.
"Dammit Peeves," Peter called out, nose wrinkled in disgust at the small emanating from their robes. "Stuptefy!" He didn't know what Peeves thought he knew, but it was nothing good.
Unfortunately, the ghost was too fast, and still cackling threw more dungbombs in their direction, followed by a waterfall of spit and this time Peter didn't have time to get a shield up in time. It washed over them, warm and sticky, and Peeves cackled some more.
"Poor precious Petey and his Potter replacement," Peeves shouted, zooming up and down the hallway.