"Okay, erm, you seem to know your plants," Vindictus said and scratched his chin.

"Sounds like a plan," Vindictus grinned and remembered one little detail. "Just make sure none of them randomly explode, okay?"

"Oh, I've dealt with former students who love making things explode, that's all. Perhaps they loved watching the reaction on people's faces," Vindictus said and shrugged his shoulders. "So plants for this office by next week - I'm looking forward to seeing them."

"I can't think of anything else, Cale," Vindictus grinned. "Enjoy your lunch and good luck with your studies."

The letters had been sent that morning and Vindictus paced about his office nervously. Would the words of students work? He hoped so since he carefully selected the letters that the Minister would read.

But after endless cups of coffee and platters of cookies brought in by worried House Elves, the Flying Instructor was jittery.

It was late afternoon when the moment of truth arruved the form of a simple, yet elegant letter stamped with the Ministry seal. A shaking hand ripped open the letter.

"YES! My baby is back. IT'S MINE, ALL MINE!" he shouted and a goofy grin was transfixed on his face. "Need to go find Fabian and the others." He was talking to no one in particular - just himself as he hurried out of his office. "So much needs to be done...."

A voice came from a storage closet and Professor Vindictus emerged carrying an old beat up trunk. "Hello, there Cale," he greeted and noticed that his prefect's hands were full of . . . plants. "Oh, yes. Plants. Practically forgot. I guess I leave you here to do whatever you do with plants - need to get this old relic out to the Broomshed. Just close the door when you're finished."

With a grin, he headed out of his office reciting a poem in a sing-song voice and the word 'Bluldger' could be heard.

James stopped at Professor Vindictus's door and knocked. He had some things that needed to be discussed.

Barry couldn`t evade it much longer he needed his wand back so he knocked on the door

Cale, still holding the little metal creature hostage, knocked on the door and waited patiently for Vindictus to answer. He figured he would check here first, since Vindictus was this prankster's Head of House. Best let him deal with whoever was releasing this madness on the corridors. Hmmm, there was no reply...perhaps the professor had left his office? If he didn't come back within a few minutes, then Cale would just have to try another professor. Who knew what this muggle contraptions would do if they were let lose for a while longer?

James decided he come back in a few minutes. He turned to leave for the Kitchens, unaware that trouble would find him there as well.

Vindictus rounded the corner to his office and stopped. There were several students gathered in front of his locked door. So much for making a dart board in my office, he thought wistfully and without a sound, he tiptoed out of sight.

Vindictus had been busy with Quidditch-related matters and had been spending more time at the Ministry than he liked. But now he was back and the Consolation Game had ended. Now he had to the time to do some long-overdue painting in his 'office' and find out who was messing with his grass.

Climbing into the window, he knocked over a few of the ceramic collies that Cooper sent to them. Max shrugged his shoulders as the small statues shattered on the wood floor and set a small can of red paint on his desk. "Yes, Cale. I'm here - come on in," he said and pulled a paint brush out of his robe pocket.

"Go on - I'm listening," Vindictus said and pried the top off of the small can of red paint. He walked over to the portrait of Minister Cooper and stood on a stool he placed on the floor. Dipping the brush into the paint, the professor smilled and painted a large red dot on the Minister's face.

Vindictus shook his head as he continued making a huge bulls eye on the portrait. "No, no, no! This is my new dart board," he grinned and stepped off his stool to look at his handiwork. "Painting the common room. Right. So what colors do the troops want?"