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And right after that, the Door opened again to admit a tired but relieved at being done with work Ghostbuster. He also had sore fingers. Maria was teething. And he was wondering if there was beaver in the family tree somewhere. A kid should not be able to *eat* a playpen.

He blinked and shielded his eyes at another arrival.

"Yo buddy, lay off the high beams will ya?" He yelled.

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"Yeah, though some days the wisdom of robes eludes me."

Trousers are practical.

"So do all your pens have lights?"

"Got to get stuck everywhere, and gotta be hell to clean," Peter nodded.

He shook his head, "Nope. Some just have ink, only it ends up more on your clothes then on paper."

"Just like inkwells. Scourgify takes care of the mess, but not the embarrassment."

Yes, it's happened to him before.

"Guess even that's an universal, huh?"

"Wherever there is ink and nervy teenagers there will be moments of embarrassment," he says, laughing.

It's so strange to find oneself sharing universal truths with Muggles, but he doesn't mind, not now.

"Not just ink either. Especially not when it comes to nervy teens," he said knowingly.

He's had some understandings of universals, especially since coming here.

"No. Definitely no. I've had my share of embarrassments."

Like interesting scars he got from potions accidents, or that time when he went to St. Mungo's with an elephant's trunk for a tail.

"Teenagers will always find ways to embarrass themselves or others; you don't always need an inkpot."

"Don't need magic either. Hormones are enough to guarnetee embarassment."

He flushes over that.

Every teenage boy knows all about hormones.

It had to be the reason why men and women both wore robes.

Peter's smirk is bigger now, and waggling of the eyebrows.

"I rest my case."

"Yes, you do," he says in a small voice.

How'd they go from balls of light to, well...

"I'm Rabastan Lestrange," he says.

When in doubt, go with name exchanges.

Because it's a convo with Peter Venkman? Former ladies' man of the Ghostbusters.

"Dr. Peter Venkman." As in yes, somehow this man got doctorates. Two of them. FEAR.

And just what sorts of pick-up lines did he use to win the girls over?

"'Doctor'. Does that mean you work in a Muggle hospital sewing up other Muggles?"

The mun feels its better not to ask while the pup just smirks knowingly.

Peter replied, "Nope. Not that kind of doctor. My degrees are in psychology and parapsychology."

>>

So much for Rabastan learning pointers...

"Oh? What does a psychologyist and a parapsychologyist do?"

"Well, I know about how minds work, and about ghosts. And this one in particular busts ghosts for a living."

"You mean like Ray? I met Ray. He was very enthusiatic about his job as ghost ... disposal ... man..."

He pauses.

"You clean out the city of ghosts too? And other magical creatures?"

"Yeah, Ray's one of my best friends. We work together."

"So you both deal with ghosts and other creatures? Like ... goblins or dragons?

Or chimeras? Those are nasty, or so I read."

"Mostly ghosts. Occasional god, or demons. Not so much on some of the other, or don't run into them as much."

"Ghosts then. No werewolves or imps or basilisks; just ghosts. Sounds simple enough."

Except not quite.

"I said, mostly. Not always. And it's not so simple."

"I guess you're right. I don't know how a ghost can fight back, but corporial beings like chimeras and werewolves can and do."

He imagines what the Bloody Baron would do if someone tried to oust him out of Hogwarts.

"If there's a lot of them then you would be busy."

Peter nodded, "Hundreds. Even thousands at times. It can get pretty ugly on the supernatural end around the Tri-State area."

"That's ... a lot ... of ghosts..."

More than what he was sure the wizarding world had at any one time.

"What do you do with them all? How do you catch a ghost?"