Chapter 113: The Untouchable Hand
Saturday night at Hogwarts was always chaotic. The students returning from Hogsmeade brought their high spirits—and contraband—back with them.
Mr. Filch was, predictably, swamped. He was always on high alert for troublemakers, especially those two red-headed menaces. His encounters with the Weasley twins had fostered in him a deep-seated animosity for all red-haired wizards.
As Filch finished his exhausting patrol and trudged back towards his dim office, Sean was just leaving the dungeon, having successfully brewed another 'Adept' level Swelling Solution.
His notebook was rapidly filling. His Silencing Charm was now 'Adept', and his General Counter-Spell (Finite Incantatem) had reached 'Expert'. He could now, without a word, neutralize Justin's Levitation Charms. Professor Flitwick had even begun "testing" him with minor jinxes, all of which Sean had successfully dispelled. He could even, with difficulty, block some weaker hexes. He was confident no first-year could breach his defenses now. Combined with his Transfiguration and spell-combination techniques, he could probably handle most of the lower years with ease.
He still had no desire to stop. The Disillusionment Charm was next.
The corridors were cold and empty. Sean hadn't seen Mrs. Norris tonight. Bruce had arranged to deliver the Hogsmeade goods two hours after the main student body returned, calling it a "two-hour window of opportunity."
"What does that even mean?" Leon had groaned, looking ready to abandon the mission entirely, convinced Bruce was planning to drop Itching Powder on the Zonko's shopkeeper. But Bruce had just dragged him off.
Sean still had time before their rendezvous. He heard a gleeful cackle from Filch's office and sighed. Some students will always hate Filch, just as some students will always prank him.
He cleaned the caretaker's vandalized office, his Scouring Charm now at an 'Adept' level. He could almost clean a whole room with a single wave. He eyed a large wooden cabinet that had been knocked over, its contents spilled.
"Reparo!" he cast.
The splintered wood fused back together, the cracks vanishing as if time were reversing. A smile touched Sean's lips. Magic would always be thrilling.
He left the office, closing the door silently, just as a loud, happy meow sounded from the shadows. He crouched down, and Mrs. Norris bounded into his arms.
Perhaps it was because he always cleaned Filch's office, easing her master's burden. Perhaps it was Justin's nutrient-rich dried fish. Whatever the reason, Mrs. Norris was definitely heavier. He could feel her weight as she padded across his shoulders.
[You have gained the affection of the Kneazle-part Magical Beast (Mrs. Norris) to the Adept standard. Proficiency +10]
[Magical Beast Affinity: Kneazle (Mrs. Norris): Befriended (80/90)]
[Apprentice-level Magical Creature Affinity will unlock the Apprentice-level Title in the field of Magical Creatures.]
Almost there. Sean produced another of Justin's creations from his bag. Apple-flavored… only magic could make that possible.
As Mrs. Norris purred contentedly, Filch stood in the doorway of his office, his usually sour face softened by the dim lamplight. He watched the boy and his cat in the corridor, unable to move. He clutched a thick, new scarf he'd been saving.
He was a Squib. Rare, scorned, and trapped on the fringes of a world he longed to join. His very name was a slur for a dud firecracker, a thing of no consequence. Most Squibs lived impoverished, overlooked lives. Their anger was the anger of the unheard.
Only Dumbledore had offered him a place, a purpose. Filch cherished his role, which was why he so despised the rule-breaking students. They flaunted the very power he craved, using it for chaos, ignorant of how precious it was.
Except… Green.
Sean gently placed Mrs. Norris on the ground. It was getting close to the meeting time. He turned to go.
Filch watched him walk away, his hand still clutching the scarf. He has new jumpers… That's enough. The hidden yearning in his eyes faded. Some things were better left buried.
The world was full of lonely people, too afraid to take the first step.
Which is why Sean returned a moment later, holding a Biting Doorknob. Filch stared as if he'd seen a troll.
"Mr. Filch," Sean said, "I asked one of the Hufflepuff prefects to get this from Hogsmeade."
He expertly installed the knob on the office door, cast a Disillusionment Charm on the original, and handed Filch a pair of dragon-hide gloves. The enchanted knob wouldn't seriously harm anyone, but it would give any student trying to force the lock a nasty nip. A simple, elegant solution.
Filch stared, dumbfounded, as the young wizard finished his work, gave a polite nod, and walked away. He hadn't fully processed what had happened. It was a small, practical kindness. But in the biting, howling wind of the corridor, Argus Filch stood holding the new scarf, his outstretched hand closing on empty air, long after the boy was gone.
(End of Chapter)
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