Squib Wizard: To Comfort Gehenna
a Harry Potter fan-fic
(an out-take from "Squib Wizard")
by Ozma
Everything really belongs to J.K. Rowling


*******

Author's Note: This ficlet will probably only make sense if you've
already read "Squib Wizard." Or at least the first chapter of "Squib
Wizard", since these events happen between the first and second
chapters.

*******



"Argus, would you talk to Gehenna Morgan for a little while? Try
to cheer the poor child up a bit?"

I gave Poppy Pomfrey an incredulous stare. "W-What? Me...? No! I
can't..."

Folding her arms, the medi-witch looked at me in exasperation.

"Of course you can. Please do try. She's been fretting about
Severus's hands."

"Haven't you told her that he's going to be all right?" I asked.

"Yes," Poppy said. "And, for that matter, so has Severus. He came
in this morning to check on her before he went to the Slytherin-
Ravenclaw match."

Her voice softened. "He spoke to her, but the child barely took
her eyes off his bandages. She's blaming herself for his injuries."

She sighed. "`The Professor needs his hands!' That's what Gehenna
said to me, after he'd left."

*******

Less than a fortnight earlier, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley
and I had discovered a massive magic eating monstrous vine-creature
growing beneath the dirt floor of a dungeon storeroom.

Drawn to consume magical beings and magic users, the vines
actively sought prey, and left painful, slow-healing burns on any witch
or wizard that they touched. The Professors had killed the thing, after
a battle that had lasted several hours and had left most of the Castle's
dungeons in a shambles.

Though the monster's brain had been destroyed pieces of the vine
remained, still twitching, hidden in cracks and crevices throughout the
dungeons.

Last night, little Gehenna had nearly been strangled by a wire-
thin piece of vine-creeper. She had been helping to clean the devastated
corridor outside Professor Snape's classroom.

Choking, unable to scream for help, Gehenna would have died.
Fortunately, Pansy Parkinson and Gehenna's sister Lilith, had seen the
attack. Their screams had brought Severus to Gehenna's rescue.

The Professor had ripped the vine off the child's throat with his
bare hands. Then, ignoring his own burns, he'd carried the barely
conscious little girl to Poppy.

The continuing danger to his beloved Slytherins had Severus more
distraught that I'd ever seen him before.

*******

"Foolish child!" I muttered. "How can she think that Severus's
burns are her fault? She didn't ask the vine to wrap itself around her
neck, did she?"

"That's the spirit, Argus," Poppy said, briskly. "Since you seldom
make an attempt to be comforting, perhaps the shock value alone will be
enough to get Gehenna's attention."

I could see Poppy's point. Slytherins, even ones as small and
quiet as Gehenna, do require careful handling. Sometimes a sneak attack
is the only way to console a troubled serpent.

"All right," I sighed. "I'll do my best."

"No one could expect more of you than that," Poppy smiled. "And it
is an excellent way to get you to stop feeling sorry for yourself," she
added.

I sputtered indignantly.

"I need to mix some more ointment for you," she said. "It will
take me a little while. Go into the front ward and have a nice chat with
Gehenna."

*******

A few moments later, I was standing uncomfortably by Gehenna
Morgan's bed. The small mousy Slytherin first year looked pale and
feverish. Drowsy with pain-killing potions, she blinked up at me with
large, sad eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Filch," Gehenna said, sleepily. Her voice was hoarse.
It hurt her to talk, but pressing a hand to her bandaged throat seemed
to help.

"You're missing the match, too," she observed. "Slytherin against
Ravenclaw. The Professor went to watch. I hope that Draco will catch the
Snitch."

"I hope so too," I said, honestly. The poor, jumpy Slytherins
could certainly do with a victory.

There was a long silence. Scolding some sense into an injured
child takes effort, even for an old curmudgeon like me. Scowling, I was
trying to work out what I wanted to say, when Gehenna asked,

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I replied, gruffly.

Thinking about the last time that Gehenna had seen me, several
hours before she'd been attacked by the vine, made me cringe with
embarrassment.

Severus wanted to ward his office against entry via my Doors. He'd
asked me to test the strength of his spells. I'd been doing that when
several of his Slytherins, Gehenna among them, had discovered me in his
office, behind a door that had been locked.

My Doors were a secret. Very few people could know the real reason
why I was trespassing. Humiliating as it was, I had let it appear as if
I'd been trying to use Severus's cleaning supplies without his
permission.

While Severus was confronting me over my supposed offense, I had
managed to back into a very nasty protective curse near his shelves. A
number of long, sharp porcupine quills had lodged in my back and
shoulders. Most of them had had hit my backside.

Like Gehenna, I had spent the night in the hospital wing. It would
be several days before I'd be able to sit down comfortably or sleep on
my back.

Poppy's remark about me feeling sorry for myself had stung. I knew
that my wounds were nowhere near as serious as the poor child's burned
throat. The physical discomfort bothered me less than the shame of being
considered a thief.

The child was studying me with sympathy. Yesterday, she and the
other Slytherins had thought I'd deserved what I'd gotten. To a fair
number of Slytherins, getting caught is the worst crime of all. But now,
I must have looked as sore and ashamed as I felt, and Gehenna wasn't the
sort to gloat.

"I'm glad that you're feeling better," she murmured. "Yesterday,
you yelled so loudly that the Gryffindors thought you were being
murdered. Lil and I were afraid too. But Pansy and Millicent told us not
to worry. Professor Snape would never do anything permanent to you."

"You would yell pretty loudly too, Missy, if the same thing ever
happened to you..." I grumbled.

"I'd never go into the Professor's office without his permission.
And I know the countercurses, in case he ever sends me in there," the
child pointed out.

Then Gehenna remembered that knowing Snape's countercurses
wouldn't have done me any good whatsoever. She looked chagrined.

I didn't mind what she'd said. She'd given me the opening I
needed.

"Professor Snape makes sure that you Slytherins know his
countercurses. Why do you think he does that?" I asked her.

"He trusts us," Gehenna murmured.

"Yes," I agreed, "and he wants to keep you safe. I've known
Professor Snape since he was your age. He's always taken his obligations
and responsibilities as seriously as the best of you serpents tend to
do. He'd risk his life to protect any student at this school. You know
that don't you?"

She nodded. Of course I did not have to explain the proud and
subtle intricacies of Slytherin honor to one of Salazar's chosen.

"Well, it goes even deeper than honor for him where the children
of his House are concerned," I said. "Seeing any of you hurt tears him
up inside."

"As completely UnSlytherin as it would be for him to admit it..."
I couldn't help adding.

Gehenna studied me, looking grave. She didn't dispute the truth of
what I'd said. She didn't say anything.

I sighed, wondering if I was getting through to her at all.

Gehenna isn't one of the children that I know well. She's a rule-
abiding child who has never had a single detention. What little I do
know about her I've learned from her sister.

Lilith Morgan's overwhelming ambition is to write plays. She and
her closest friend, Mallory Crippen, also a Slytherin second year,
receive frequent detentions because they often talk and pass notes in
class.

Ambition, that most famous of Slytherin traits, comes in many
forms. From a stream of Lilith-and-Mallory chatter, I had plucked the
tidbit that Gehenna wanted, more than anything, to be an expert brewer
of potions. So I understood what Gehenna meant when she held her small,
pale hands out in front of her.

"But, his poor hands...!" she said sadly. "It was too much of a
risk."

"The Professor would tell you that it was a calculated risk. Using
`Incendio' on a vine wrapped around your throat... that would have been
too much of a risk. The slightest miscalculation would have killed you.
He had less than a second to decide what to do," I said.

"Professor Snape trusted that Madam Pomfrey would be able to heal
his hands. But not even Madam Pomfrey can raise the dead. If you had
died, then he never would have forgiven himself. Ever. Do you
understand, Gehenna?"

To my relief the girl nodded. Her hands were relaxed, resting on
her coverlet.

"Good," I said, gruffly. "It's all right, then."

Gehenna was studying me again.

"Mr. Filch?" She asked wistfully, around a sleepy yawn, "if you
had gone to the Quidditch match today, would you have sat with the
Gryffindors?"

"I would have had trouble sitting with anyone," I said ruefully.

"No," I added, after a moment, when I finally realized what the
child was really asking me. "The Gryffindors never seem to lack for
supporters, do they? I would have stayed with you Slytherins."

Gehenna smiled.

"Some of the others wonder why you always like to cheer for us at
Quidditch. I've heard a few theories. One guess is that you used to be a
Slytherin," she told me, drowsily.

"Hmm. I'd imagine that's enough to utterly horrify a number of
you," I said in a very dry voice.

"There are those who say that you must do it out of loyalty to
Professor Snape. Or because you lost a bet with someone years and years
ago. Or because you'd rather support us than any team with Fred and
George Weasley on it," Gehenna said.

"Of course, that doesn't explain why you didn't choose to support
Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff..." she added.

"Why do you suppose that I cheer for Slytherin?" I asked, a little
distractedly. My feet ached from standing. Borrowing a pillow from an
empty bed to use as a cushion, I lowered myself gingerly into a chair.

"I think that you probably just like to keep all of us wondering,"
she murmured, closing her eyes.

"It's really almost Slytherin of you."

"Coming from you, child, I'll consider that a compliment," I said.
"As long as you promise that you'll never say such a thing about me in
front of your Professor. He wouldn't be amused."

"I won't," Gehenna promised.

She fell asleep, with a smile on her face.

I stayed beside her until Poppy returned.



THE END





Another Author's Note:


The next chapter of "Squib Caretaker" is still being worked on. While
going through some old computer files, I found this scene that was
originally supposed to be part of "Squib Wizard." I expanded it a bit...
hopefully it stands up okay as a ficlet.

Some of this was inspired by the Quidditch scene in the movie, where
Filch is shown enthusiastically cheering for the Slytherins. I began to
wonder why he would do that. Filch never did really answer Gehenna's
question. I think maybe Gehenna is right; he just wants to make 'em
wonder.