Squib Guardian
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
A sequel to Squib Summer
Chapter One(of Two): A Caretaker's Work is Never Done
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
(My special thanks to Darklady,
Myrtle's very own bathroom design consultant!)
"Well, that's it then," Hagrid said. He slung the large sack
containing his belongings up onto his shoulder, then he looked down at
me. "I'm off. Yeh'll be all righ', Filch. I'd tell yeh not ter worry
while I'm gone, but it'd be the same as telling yeh not ter breathe."
I sputtered indignantly.
The half-giant grinned, then his expression sobered as he turned
away from me to take leave of his dogs. Fang the massive boarhound and
Fluffy the even more massive Cerberus gathered around their master,
whimpering sadly and licking Hagrid's face and hands.
The big man murmured endearments at the pair of drooling beasts.
They were told "ter be good boys an' look after each other, the Castle
and the 'old git,'" (meaning me).
"I'd tell you not to do anything reckless while you're away," I
said to Hagrid, gruffly, "but you'd need to overcome the habits of a
lifetime first." My voice cracked. Saying good-bye, knowing that it
could very well be for the last time, did not grow any easier with
practice.
Hagrid clapped me on the back. The rough, comforting gesture said
what neither of us could put into words.
Then I felt something else. A surge of powerful magic had reached
out to both of us. The Castle itself was reacting to Hagrid's leaving.
To my surprise, the half-giant was clearly aware of it too. The
groundskeeper watched my eyes grow wide.
"Hagrid? The Castle...y-you...!"
The Keeper of the Keys nodded gravely. "Dumbledore said that yeh'd
already bin Noticed," he murmured.
"When...?"
The half-giant put the bundle down on the ground by his feet. "The
firs'... no, it was the second night that Harry and yeh spent in
hospital. Dumbledore was away with poor Harry o'course, an' I was here
alone. Summat came. I'm not sure what, jus' that it was Dark. It moved
through the Forest, tryin' ter rouse the Wild creatures, bind em ter its
will, an' set 'em against the Castle.
"Aragog an' his family, the centaurs... all of 'em could feel it.
I felt it too. Buildin' a spell, tryin ter tear down walls inside me,
walls that I never knew were there."
The look in Hagrid's dark eyes as he spoke was deep and
fathomless. I was reminded that he belonged to a lineage more ancient
than any Pureblooded wizard could claim.
"Imagine summat trying ter be Master o'the Forest!" Hagrid
growled, shaking his shaggy head. He grimaced. "Stupid! The Forest's
much too old and Wild fer that. The creatures who live there belong ter
themselves. They'd go mad or die afore they'd call anyone or anything
'Master!' I was afraid fer myself an' fer them. The thought of 'em
tearin' themselves ter bloody scraps, breaking themselves against each
other..."
The dogs reacted to Hagrid's anger. Fang pressed up against his
master's knees, whimpering while Fluffy's heads nudged at the half-
giant's shoulders anxiously. The Groundskeeper rested a hand on each
dog's back and continued more softly. "I had ter save 'em. Only, I didn'
know what I could do on my own."
"And you Called to the Castle for help," I murmured, remembering
how it had been for me. Ginny and Neville trapped at my side, death
everywhere around us and all hope lost.
Hagrid nodded. "It was like reaching out ter summat that'd always
bin there, jus' waiting fer me ter turn around an' see," he said,
softly. "It filled me up. So much power, I couldn't bear ter hold it fer
more'n a minute or two at a time. So it came an' went, but it never went
far. I stayed up all night, wandering through the trees. Spoke ter
whoever an' whatever I saw. Dunno what I said. Or even what I did ter
break the spell that the Dark thing was tryin ter build."
He sighed. "I'm sure I don't have ter tell yeh how weak an' hurt
an' broken up I felt when it was over an' the Magic let me go fer the
las' time. I jus' fell down like I was dead. Dumbledore found me the
next morning, with Firenze watching over me. He had ter get me back out
a' the Forest on his own. I couldn' have walked ter save my life. Had
ter stay in bed fer a couple a' days after that. Bin getting my strength
back ever since. Olympe's bin worried, but I'm alrigh' now."
I shook my head in amazement, wonder and sympathy. "You're very
lucky, Hagrid," I told him. A wave of guilt swept over me. I had noticed
that Hagrid was looking a bit tired but, preoccupied with my own recent
hospital stay, I'd had no idea what an ordeal he'd just been through. "I
would have been dead after a night like that. Maybe even the Headmaster
would have..."
"Dumbledore said that bein' Noticed isn't healthy fer most
ordinary witches or wizards," Hagrid murmured. "'But yer not ordinary,
are yeh, Hagrid?' he said ter me, 'an' neither is Filch.' Then he told
me that yeh've got more stamina than he's got when it comes ter havin a
cozy chat with the Castle."
"That can't be true," I protested.
"The Castle talks ter yeh far more often than it talks ter him,
and fer longer, too," Hagrid said firmly. He looked annoyed with me for
presuming to doubt Dumbledore's word on the subject.
"Well, you've certainly got more stamina then either of us have
got," I said, shuddering. No one else could have done what Hagrid had
done in the Forest. Not even Dumbledore, and certainly not me!
Then I frowned. "Hagrid? Would you have told me any of this if I
hadn't asked you?"
Hagrid had picked up his bundle again. We started walking. "Why do
yeh think the Castle gave both of us a nudge at jus' the right moment?
So yeh *would* ask. I may not have bin doin' this fer as long as yeh and
the Headmaster have done. But I know that we can trust the Castle ter
make Its wishes known whenever It needs us ter do summat."
Slowly we headed towards the front gate, with the two dogs ambling
beside us.
"Something tried to use the Forest against us. What if that Dark
thing comes back?" I said, nervously.
Hagrid looked fierce. "Let it. Aragog an' the centaurs were taken
by surprise once, but they're on their guard now. An' so are a lot o'
other creatures besides. It won' happen again, Filch. Filch...?"
I'd fallen behind him. A horrible thought had just occurred to me.
"Hagrid, according to our original plans, you were supposed to
have left Hogwarts by then. If I hadn't got into that business with
Potter, the Sphinx and the Harpy and ended up in hospital, the Castle
would have been under *my* protection instead of yours. If not for
Potter..."
"Poor Harry," Hagrid said, quietly. "Whatever he does an' whatever
happens ter him always seems ter have a lot more effects than anyone
realizes, or can see at firs' glance. 'Cept fer Dumbledore, o'course."
Without wanting to, I found myself remembering an unsettling
conversation that Dumbledore and I'd had recently. I'd seen the
Headmaster weary and troubled, suffering self-doubt.
I didn't have the heart to mention these things to Hagrid. The
half-giant's boundless faith in the Headmaster's omniscience was
something that helped him to stay strong.
Though I remained quiet, my emotions must have shown in my face.
"Don' worry so, Filch," Hagrid said. He clapped me on the shoulder
again, rather gently, for him. "Enjoy yer summer. I'll see yeh when I
come back."
*******
Together the dogs and I watched the half-giant's carriage until it
was out of sight. Fang and Fluffy broke into a chorus of mournful howls.
I was tempted to join them. Hagrid had been the last one to leave. Now I
was alone, the sole guardian of Hogwarts.
*******
Plumbing chores still remained to be done in various parts of the
Castle, and I'd promised to start painting in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom
later tonight. The ghost-brat had approved the use of a rather nice pale
green shade for her walls. She had also grudgingly agreed to consider a
tasteful lilac hue for the stalls.
That evening, after feeding Fang and Fluffy, and then breaking up
an altercation between Myrtle and Peeves (the wretched Poltergeist had
made off with Myrtle's collection of paint samples and her catalogues of
bathroom fittings) I retired to my office for some peace and quiet.
One of the house-elves had left my dinner for me, resting in a
covered dish on my desk. During the summer it is customary for me to eat
breakfast in the kitchen with the house-elves, and lunch and dinner
wherever I happen to be working. There was fried fish, which Mrs. Norris
was pleased to share with me (though she'd been given a portion of her
own) boiled potatoes and strong, sweet tea. The sort of food that I find
most comforting whenever I am feeling desolate. The house-elves, bless
them, always know.
While I ate I perused the additions, alterations and other
suggestions that Alastor Moody had owled me for the Door forms. Then I
wrote him a note, approving the changes and telling him to proceed with
the printing. The old Auror had taken charge of that end of things.
After working my way through some more paperwork (ordering
supplies for the September term) I relaxed a bit and re-read the two
letters I'd received that morning.
One was from Neville. It seemed that his relatives were insisting
that he learn how to swim. Neville's account of his swimming lessons had
been written with the boy's usual self-depreciating good humor. My young
friend waved at me from the accompanying photograph, looking cheerful
and brown.
The other, longer letter was from Minerva. First she'd assured me
that she, Black and young Potter were well. (The Animagi had been able
to let Potter know about their presence, which had done much to raise
the boy's spirits.) Then she'd described an interesting encounter at
number four Privet Drive.
Minerva, in cat-form, had been curled up in a sunny spot on the
Dursleys' garden bench. She was keeping a close watch on the boy as he
trimmed his aunt's flowerbeds.
Naturally Sirius had also wished to be near his godson. But while
the presence of small tabby cat in their back garden had gone
unremarked, the appearance of a bear-sized black dog had provoked an
armed response from within number four.
Harry had been happily scratching his godfather behind the ears
when Dudley Dursley had emerged from the house. The Muggle boy had
looked frightened but grim-faced. He'd been clutching something called
(according to what Potter had later told his Animagi guardians) a
'Smelting stick.'
"Potter! Get back!"
"What? Why? He's perfectly friendly. Put down that stick, you're
scaring him!"
"I don't think that's a dog!" Dudley had growled.
"He looks like a dog. What else could he be?" Potter had grabbed
Sirius, who'd started growling back at Dudley.
Dudley had given Harry a look of furious exasperation. "You're the
one that goes to a fr... magic school! It *could* be anything! Now, get
away from that thing before it puts you on its back, drags you off and
drowns you!"
"Drowns me? In what? The birdbath?" Harry had placed himself
between his godfather and his cousin. "Dudley," he said, after looking
bemused for a few seconds, "you're thinking of Kelpies. Kelpies usually
look like HORSES."
"So? It's trying to catch you off-guard! Have you ever seen a dog
that size? Maybe it's like that horrid grey thing that looked like an
old woman and tried to eat you!"
"He's *nothing* like her at all!" Harry had snapped. Then his tone
softened. "Dudley, how'd you know about kelpies in the first place?"
"There's tons of stuff about cr-creatures on the internet!
Dangerous freaky things from *your* sort of places! Oh!" Startled, the
Muggle boy had stared down at the sleek tabby rubbing against his
ankles.
"I suppose you're going to tell me that she's not really a cat?"
Potter had asked his cousin wryly. "Look, Dudley, I appreciate the
research, but they've both got tags. They're here with Mrs. Figg's
cousin, Minerva. She's come for a visit. Now put the stick down before
Snuffles bites you."
*******
"As you can see," Minerva wrote, "Harry has gained an additional
protector. Even Sirius, once he got over his incredulity and annoyance,
approved of Master Dursley's vigilance and the boy's instincts. It is
gratifying to learn that Harry's recent ordeal has awakened a sense of
familial responsibility in his cousin."
"I do hope that Harry will explain to Dudley the correct way to
overcome a kelpie should they actually encounter one," she had added.
Like Minerva and Sirius, I was surprised and pleased by young
Dursley's newly protective attitude towards Harry. Potter needed all the
friends he could get. Dudley, as Potter's blood relative, was a more
powerful ally than most people would suspect.
*******
Comforted by the letters and fortified by dinner, I proceeded up
to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to begin painting. I'd already scraped the
old, dingy paint off the walls, and neatly patched up the cracks. And
drop cloths were in place on the floor.
Despite my careful preparations the work was stressful.
"That's white!" Myrtle wailed as soon as the first roller-full of
paint was on the wall. "We agreed on GREEN!"
"The walls have to be primed first," I said, trying not to snap at
her. "I'll start with the green when the primer is dry."
Watching me skeptically, Myrtle hovered right at my back while I
worked. Being observed in this way is every bit as irritating as it
sounds. Thanks to Myrtle's proximity, my teeth were soon chattering.
"Myrtle, haven't you got anything better to do?" I growled.
"Not for the past fifty years or so." For once her tone was
perfectly dry. "I've been thinking that tiles would look very nice on
the lower half of the walls."
"T-Tiles?"
"It'd mean less painting for you." Her voice had turned almost
brisk.
"Tiles?" I wheezed.
"Don't keep saying that as if you've never even heard of the
things! There's catalogues full of tiles. I was thinking of something in
lilac, to match the stalls. Or maybe something a bit darker. Perhaps a
nice shade of plum."
"Plum?"
"Yes," she murmured thoughtfully. "With the grout tinted to match,
naturally. And of course we'd need new sinks too."
"You want plum sinks?"
"Oh, no. I was thinking of something in a nice shade of rose for
them! To match the new floor! But, we'd have to do the ceiling first.
I've decided that I want rose-pink for the ceiling. Now, about the
stalls..."
Setting the roller carefully into the paint-tray, I leaned wearily
against an unpainted section of wall.
Tiles for the lower half of the wall. New sinks. New floor. New
ceiling. If the ghost-brat had her way I would be kept slaving in this
bathroom all summer long!
This was all Sirius Black's fault. If only young Dursley had given
Black at least one good whack with that stick! It would have served the
Pup right...!
*******
A couple of hours later Myrtle's bathroom walls had a coat of
white primer and I had a headache. I had tried explaining the potential
difficulties involved in attempting to get the school's board of
governors to approve such a costly redecorating scheme, but Mrytle
seemed convinced that I was 'just being difficult.'
"You know perfectly well that they'd approve of anything you
wanted them to approve of!" she wailed.
After a quick stop in the hospital wing for some of the headache
potion that Poppy had left for me, I went to my room, changed into a
clean nightshirt and collapsed into bed.
The next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulders. I heard
the small voice of Winky, the house-elf.
"Wake up, Argus Filch!"
The headache potion had made me sleep heavily. Winky shook me
again, harder. "You is needed at Castle's front gate! NOW. Professor
Snape is there. If Argus Filch does not come, Fluffy will be tearing
poor Professor Snape to pieces!"
Severus!
Dreadfully groggy, I thanked Winky and stumbled out of bed.
Calling black-and-yellow, I hurried barefoot through the tapestry and
emerged by the Castle's front gate, directly between the Potions Master
and the growling Cerberus.
Snape had other protectors. Small black Azoth was an inky shadow
by his wizard's feet. Mrs. Norris, gold eyes gleaming, had placed
herself in front of the Potions Master. Even Fang, who was glad to see
anyone that he knew, stood at Snape's side happily wagging his tail. But
Fluffy, mindful of his duty, was undaunted by this show of support for
his prisoner. None of the three heads stopped growling at Snape until I
appeared.
"Good boy, Fluffy!" I said, rising on tiptoe to stroke each head
in turn. "It's all right, you can let the Professor go now. I'm going to
walk him up to the Castle."
Having performed his job satisfactorily, the Cerberus obediently
trotted off into the darkness to resume his watch.
Severus had been waiting for me, calm and cool, despite the
growling Cerberus. I was relieved that he hadn't done anything to
provoke Fluffy.
Withdrawing his wand from his sleeve, Severus murmured "Lumos," to
give us some light. Still yawning and bleary-eyed, I looked the Potions
Master over as carefully as I could. To my relief, he appeared much as
usual. I could sense no Dark magic around him. Whatever he'd been up to,
at least he hadn't incurred the Dark Lord's wrath in the recent past.
"You look dreadful, Filch," Severus said dryly as he examined me
in turn. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. Myrtle's bathroom?"
I nodded, miserably. "It's gone far beyond a simple coat of paint,
Professor. Now she wants the entire place redone! And it seems that
there are more shades of pink and purple in this world than I ever
thought possible."
Severus smiled, but said nothing.
(Later, I realized that he'd had an air of suppressed energy and
excitement about him. I should have been on my guard. My weariness was
no excuse.)
After escorting Professor Snape to the Castle, where I knew that
Winky and several other house-elves were busy making his room ready, I
crept back into my warm, soft bed.
Fang had accompanied Mrs. Norris and me. I drew the line at
allowing the boarhound to sleep on my bed, but pity for his loneliness
had compelled me to allow him to sleep by my fire. I missed Hagrid too.
*******
My dream was unusually vivid.
Old Apollyon Pringle stood before me, large as life and twice as
angry. His iron grey hair was a wild halo around his head and his brown
eyes glared at me from beneath bristling grey brows. His gnarled,
knobbly hands were clenched angrily at his sides.
At least I didn't see the whip or belt that I half-expected to see
clutched in his right hand. (The brats who attend Hogwarts these days
think that *I'm* harsh. They have no idea how fortunate they are.)
"Filch!" the old Caretaker snarled at me. "What did I teach you?
Always keep an eye on the brats! Professors and students alike, you
can't turn your back on them for a minute!"
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't be sorry. Just wake up! For good or ill, the thing has been
made. And now, for everyone's sake, it's got to be put away, in its
proper place. It's much too dangerous to be left lying about!"
*******
Awakening with a start, my heart pounding, I sat bolt upright in
bed. The sun had risen, but the day was grey, overcast and gloomy.
Green-and-silver was already waiting for me on the wall of my bedroom.
"Stay here," I told Mrs. Norris, who was curled in front of the
fire beside Fang. Without giving her a chance to accompany me, I shoved
my feet into my slippers and hurried through Salazar's Door.
I emerged into the dungeon corridor outside the Potions Classroom.
The terrible cold all around me was enough to freeze my blood. It was
like stepping into a harsh winter night. The thin nightshirt offered me
scant protection, but I hadn't taken the time to change into anything
warmer. My breath misted in the air. The walls, ceiling and floor of the
dungeon corridor were coated with ice. I sighed, exhaling a puff of
vapor. This was what I'd been afraid I'd find.
My vivid dream had been more than a dream. Hagrid had been right;
the Castle would find a way to make Its wishes known whenever it had
'summat' that needed doing. At least speaking to me in a dream was less
painful than the Castle's prior method of communication had been. If
'the thing had been made' then perhaps the danger to Severus alone had
already passed. But the creation of the Alchemist's Door evidently posed
a threat to the Castle somehow.
I did not know who to feel sorrier for, myself or Severus. The
young wizard had been the first one to create an Alchemist's Door in
over a thousand years. And now, it appeared to be the Castle's will that
I should take the Alchemist's Door away from him.
To Be Continued...
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
A sequel to Squib Summer
Chapter One(of Two): A Caretaker's Work is Never Done
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
(My special thanks to Darklady,
Myrtle's very own bathroom design consultant!)
"Well, that's it then," Hagrid said. He slung the large sack
containing his belongings up onto his shoulder, then he looked down at
me. "I'm off. Yeh'll be all righ', Filch. I'd tell yeh not ter worry
while I'm gone, but it'd be the same as telling yeh not ter breathe."
I sputtered indignantly.
The half-giant grinned, then his expression sobered as he turned
away from me to take leave of his dogs. Fang the massive boarhound and
Fluffy the even more massive Cerberus gathered around their master,
whimpering sadly and licking Hagrid's face and hands.
The big man murmured endearments at the pair of drooling beasts.
They were told "ter be good boys an' look after each other, the Castle
and the 'old git,'" (meaning me).
"I'd tell you not to do anything reckless while you're away," I
said to Hagrid, gruffly, "but you'd need to overcome the habits of a
lifetime first." My voice cracked. Saying good-bye, knowing that it
could very well be for the last time, did not grow any easier with
practice.
Hagrid clapped me on the back. The rough, comforting gesture said
what neither of us could put into words.
Then I felt something else. A surge of powerful magic had reached
out to both of us. The Castle itself was reacting to Hagrid's leaving.
To my surprise, the half-giant was clearly aware of it too. The
groundskeeper watched my eyes grow wide.
"Hagrid? The Castle...y-you...!"
The Keeper of the Keys nodded gravely. "Dumbledore said that yeh'd
already bin Noticed," he murmured.
"When...?"
The half-giant put the bundle down on the ground by his feet. "The
firs'... no, it was the second night that Harry and yeh spent in
hospital. Dumbledore was away with poor Harry o'course, an' I was here
alone. Summat came. I'm not sure what, jus' that it was Dark. It moved
through the Forest, tryin' ter rouse the Wild creatures, bind em ter its
will, an' set 'em against the Castle.
"Aragog an' his family, the centaurs... all of 'em could feel it.
I felt it too. Buildin' a spell, tryin ter tear down walls inside me,
walls that I never knew were there."
The look in Hagrid's dark eyes as he spoke was deep and
fathomless. I was reminded that he belonged to a lineage more ancient
than any Pureblooded wizard could claim.
"Imagine summat trying ter be Master o'the Forest!" Hagrid
growled, shaking his shaggy head. He grimaced. "Stupid! The Forest's
much too old and Wild fer that. The creatures who live there belong ter
themselves. They'd go mad or die afore they'd call anyone or anything
'Master!' I was afraid fer myself an' fer them. The thought of 'em
tearin' themselves ter bloody scraps, breaking themselves against each
other..."
The dogs reacted to Hagrid's anger. Fang pressed up against his
master's knees, whimpering while Fluffy's heads nudged at the half-
giant's shoulders anxiously. The Groundskeeper rested a hand on each
dog's back and continued more softly. "I had ter save 'em. Only, I didn'
know what I could do on my own."
"And you Called to the Castle for help," I murmured, remembering
how it had been for me. Ginny and Neville trapped at my side, death
everywhere around us and all hope lost.
Hagrid nodded. "It was like reaching out ter summat that'd always
bin there, jus' waiting fer me ter turn around an' see," he said,
softly. "It filled me up. So much power, I couldn't bear ter hold it fer
more'n a minute or two at a time. So it came an' went, but it never went
far. I stayed up all night, wandering through the trees. Spoke ter
whoever an' whatever I saw. Dunno what I said. Or even what I did ter
break the spell that the Dark thing was tryin ter build."
He sighed. "I'm sure I don't have ter tell yeh how weak an' hurt
an' broken up I felt when it was over an' the Magic let me go fer the
las' time. I jus' fell down like I was dead. Dumbledore found me the
next morning, with Firenze watching over me. He had ter get me back out
a' the Forest on his own. I couldn' have walked ter save my life. Had
ter stay in bed fer a couple a' days after that. Bin getting my strength
back ever since. Olympe's bin worried, but I'm alrigh' now."
I shook my head in amazement, wonder and sympathy. "You're very
lucky, Hagrid," I told him. A wave of guilt swept over me. I had noticed
that Hagrid was looking a bit tired but, preoccupied with my own recent
hospital stay, I'd had no idea what an ordeal he'd just been through. "I
would have been dead after a night like that. Maybe even the Headmaster
would have..."
"Dumbledore said that bein' Noticed isn't healthy fer most
ordinary witches or wizards," Hagrid murmured. "'But yer not ordinary,
are yeh, Hagrid?' he said ter me, 'an' neither is Filch.' Then he told
me that yeh've got more stamina than he's got when it comes ter havin a
cozy chat with the Castle."
"That can't be true," I protested.
"The Castle talks ter yeh far more often than it talks ter him,
and fer longer, too," Hagrid said firmly. He looked annoyed with me for
presuming to doubt Dumbledore's word on the subject.
"Well, you've certainly got more stamina then either of us have
got," I said, shuddering. No one else could have done what Hagrid had
done in the Forest. Not even Dumbledore, and certainly not me!
Then I frowned. "Hagrid? Would you have told me any of this if I
hadn't asked you?"
Hagrid had picked up his bundle again. We started walking. "Why do
yeh think the Castle gave both of us a nudge at jus' the right moment?
So yeh *would* ask. I may not have bin doin' this fer as long as yeh and
the Headmaster have done. But I know that we can trust the Castle ter
make Its wishes known whenever It needs us ter do summat."
Slowly we headed towards the front gate, with the two dogs ambling
beside us.
"Something tried to use the Forest against us. What if that Dark
thing comes back?" I said, nervously.
Hagrid looked fierce. "Let it. Aragog an' the centaurs were taken
by surprise once, but they're on their guard now. An' so are a lot o'
other creatures besides. It won' happen again, Filch. Filch...?"
I'd fallen behind him. A horrible thought had just occurred to me.
"Hagrid, according to our original plans, you were supposed to
have left Hogwarts by then. If I hadn't got into that business with
Potter, the Sphinx and the Harpy and ended up in hospital, the Castle
would have been under *my* protection instead of yours. If not for
Potter..."
"Poor Harry," Hagrid said, quietly. "Whatever he does an' whatever
happens ter him always seems ter have a lot more effects than anyone
realizes, or can see at firs' glance. 'Cept fer Dumbledore, o'course."
Without wanting to, I found myself remembering an unsettling
conversation that Dumbledore and I'd had recently. I'd seen the
Headmaster weary and troubled, suffering self-doubt.
I didn't have the heart to mention these things to Hagrid. The
half-giant's boundless faith in the Headmaster's omniscience was
something that helped him to stay strong.
Though I remained quiet, my emotions must have shown in my face.
"Don' worry so, Filch," Hagrid said. He clapped me on the shoulder
again, rather gently, for him. "Enjoy yer summer. I'll see yeh when I
come back."
*******
Together the dogs and I watched the half-giant's carriage until it
was out of sight. Fang and Fluffy broke into a chorus of mournful howls.
I was tempted to join them. Hagrid had been the last one to leave. Now I
was alone, the sole guardian of Hogwarts.
*******
Plumbing chores still remained to be done in various parts of the
Castle, and I'd promised to start painting in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom
later tonight. The ghost-brat had approved the use of a rather nice pale
green shade for her walls. She had also grudgingly agreed to consider a
tasteful lilac hue for the stalls.
That evening, after feeding Fang and Fluffy, and then breaking up
an altercation between Myrtle and Peeves (the wretched Poltergeist had
made off with Myrtle's collection of paint samples and her catalogues of
bathroom fittings) I retired to my office for some peace and quiet.
One of the house-elves had left my dinner for me, resting in a
covered dish on my desk. During the summer it is customary for me to eat
breakfast in the kitchen with the house-elves, and lunch and dinner
wherever I happen to be working. There was fried fish, which Mrs. Norris
was pleased to share with me (though she'd been given a portion of her
own) boiled potatoes and strong, sweet tea. The sort of food that I find
most comforting whenever I am feeling desolate. The house-elves, bless
them, always know.
While I ate I perused the additions, alterations and other
suggestions that Alastor Moody had owled me for the Door forms. Then I
wrote him a note, approving the changes and telling him to proceed with
the printing. The old Auror had taken charge of that end of things.
After working my way through some more paperwork (ordering
supplies for the September term) I relaxed a bit and re-read the two
letters I'd received that morning.
One was from Neville. It seemed that his relatives were insisting
that he learn how to swim. Neville's account of his swimming lessons had
been written with the boy's usual self-depreciating good humor. My young
friend waved at me from the accompanying photograph, looking cheerful
and brown.
The other, longer letter was from Minerva. First she'd assured me
that she, Black and young Potter were well. (The Animagi had been able
to let Potter know about their presence, which had done much to raise
the boy's spirits.) Then she'd described an interesting encounter at
number four Privet Drive.
Minerva, in cat-form, had been curled up in a sunny spot on the
Dursleys' garden bench. She was keeping a close watch on the boy as he
trimmed his aunt's flowerbeds.
Naturally Sirius had also wished to be near his godson. But while
the presence of small tabby cat in their back garden had gone
unremarked, the appearance of a bear-sized black dog had provoked an
armed response from within number four.
Harry had been happily scratching his godfather behind the ears
when Dudley Dursley had emerged from the house. The Muggle boy had
looked frightened but grim-faced. He'd been clutching something called
(according to what Potter had later told his Animagi guardians) a
'Smelting stick.'
"Potter! Get back!"
"What? Why? He's perfectly friendly. Put down that stick, you're
scaring him!"
"I don't think that's a dog!" Dudley had growled.
"He looks like a dog. What else could he be?" Potter had grabbed
Sirius, who'd started growling back at Dudley.
Dudley had given Harry a look of furious exasperation. "You're the
one that goes to a fr... magic school! It *could* be anything! Now, get
away from that thing before it puts you on its back, drags you off and
drowns you!"
"Drowns me? In what? The birdbath?" Harry had placed himself
between his godfather and his cousin. "Dudley," he said, after looking
bemused for a few seconds, "you're thinking of Kelpies. Kelpies usually
look like HORSES."
"So? It's trying to catch you off-guard! Have you ever seen a dog
that size? Maybe it's like that horrid grey thing that looked like an
old woman and tried to eat you!"
"He's *nothing* like her at all!" Harry had snapped. Then his tone
softened. "Dudley, how'd you know about kelpies in the first place?"
"There's tons of stuff about cr-creatures on the internet!
Dangerous freaky things from *your* sort of places! Oh!" Startled, the
Muggle boy had stared down at the sleek tabby rubbing against his
ankles.
"I suppose you're going to tell me that she's not really a cat?"
Potter had asked his cousin wryly. "Look, Dudley, I appreciate the
research, but they've both got tags. They're here with Mrs. Figg's
cousin, Minerva. She's come for a visit. Now put the stick down before
Snuffles bites you."
*******
"As you can see," Minerva wrote, "Harry has gained an additional
protector. Even Sirius, once he got over his incredulity and annoyance,
approved of Master Dursley's vigilance and the boy's instincts. It is
gratifying to learn that Harry's recent ordeal has awakened a sense of
familial responsibility in his cousin."
"I do hope that Harry will explain to Dudley the correct way to
overcome a kelpie should they actually encounter one," she had added.
Like Minerva and Sirius, I was surprised and pleased by young
Dursley's newly protective attitude towards Harry. Potter needed all the
friends he could get. Dudley, as Potter's blood relative, was a more
powerful ally than most people would suspect.
*******
Comforted by the letters and fortified by dinner, I proceeded up
to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to begin painting. I'd already scraped the
old, dingy paint off the walls, and neatly patched up the cracks. And
drop cloths were in place on the floor.
Despite my careful preparations the work was stressful.
"That's white!" Myrtle wailed as soon as the first roller-full of
paint was on the wall. "We agreed on GREEN!"
"The walls have to be primed first," I said, trying not to snap at
her. "I'll start with the green when the primer is dry."
Watching me skeptically, Myrtle hovered right at my back while I
worked. Being observed in this way is every bit as irritating as it
sounds. Thanks to Myrtle's proximity, my teeth were soon chattering.
"Myrtle, haven't you got anything better to do?" I growled.
"Not for the past fifty years or so." For once her tone was
perfectly dry. "I've been thinking that tiles would look very nice on
the lower half of the walls."
"T-Tiles?"
"It'd mean less painting for you." Her voice had turned almost
brisk.
"Tiles?" I wheezed.
"Don't keep saying that as if you've never even heard of the
things! There's catalogues full of tiles. I was thinking of something in
lilac, to match the stalls. Or maybe something a bit darker. Perhaps a
nice shade of plum."
"Plum?"
"Yes," she murmured thoughtfully. "With the grout tinted to match,
naturally. And of course we'd need new sinks too."
"You want plum sinks?"
"Oh, no. I was thinking of something in a nice shade of rose for
them! To match the new floor! But, we'd have to do the ceiling first.
I've decided that I want rose-pink for the ceiling. Now, about the
stalls..."
Setting the roller carefully into the paint-tray, I leaned wearily
against an unpainted section of wall.
Tiles for the lower half of the wall. New sinks. New floor. New
ceiling. If the ghost-brat had her way I would be kept slaving in this
bathroom all summer long!
This was all Sirius Black's fault. If only young Dursley had given
Black at least one good whack with that stick! It would have served the
Pup right...!
*******
A couple of hours later Myrtle's bathroom walls had a coat of
white primer and I had a headache. I had tried explaining the potential
difficulties involved in attempting to get the school's board of
governors to approve such a costly redecorating scheme, but Mrytle
seemed convinced that I was 'just being difficult.'
"You know perfectly well that they'd approve of anything you
wanted them to approve of!" she wailed.
After a quick stop in the hospital wing for some of the headache
potion that Poppy had left for me, I went to my room, changed into a
clean nightshirt and collapsed into bed.
The next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulders. I heard
the small voice of Winky, the house-elf.
"Wake up, Argus Filch!"
The headache potion had made me sleep heavily. Winky shook me
again, harder. "You is needed at Castle's front gate! NOW. Professor
Snape is there. If Argus Filch does not come, Fluffy will be tearing
poor Professor Snape to pieces!"
Severus!
Dreadfully groggy, I thanked Winky and stumbled out of bed.
Calling black-and-yellow, I hurried barefoot through the tapestry and
emerged by the Castle's front gate, directly between the Potions Master
and the growling Cerberus.
Snape had other protectors. Small black Azoth was an inky shadow
by his wizard's feet. Mrs. Norris, gold eyes gleaming, had placed
herself in front of the Potions Master. Even Fang, who was glad to see
anyone that he knew, stood at Snape's side happily wagging his tail. But
Fluffy, mindful of his duty, was undaunted by this show of support for
his prisoner. None of the three heads stopped growling at Snape until I
appeared.
"Good boy, Fluffy!" I said, rising on tiptoe to stroke each head
in turn. "It's all right, you can let the Professor go now. I'm going to
walk him up to the Castle."
Having performed his job satisfactorily, the Cerberus obediently
trotted off into the darkness to resume his watch.
Severus had been waiting for me, calm and cool, despite the
growling Cerberus. I was relieved that he hadn't done anything to
provoke Fluffy.
Withdrawing his wand from his sleeve, Severus murmured "Lumos," to
give us some light. Still yawning and bleary-eyed, I looked the Potions
Master over as carefully as I could. To my relief, he appeared much as
usual. I could sense no Dark magic around him. Whatever he'd been up to,
at least he hadn't incurred the Dark Lord's wrath in the recent past.
"You look dreadful, Filch," Severus said dryly as he examined me
in turn. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. Myrtle's bathroom?"
I nodded, miserably. "It's gone far beyond a simple coat of paint,
Professor. Now she wants the entire place redone! And it seems that
there are more shades of pink and purple in this world than I ever
thought possible."
Severus smiled, but said nothing.
(Later, I realized that he'd had an air of suppressed energy and
excitement about him. I should have been on my guard. My weariness was
no excuse.)
After escorting Professor Snape to the Castle, where I knew that
Winky and several other house-elves were busy making his room ready, I
crept back into my warm, soft bed.
Fang had accompanied Mrs. Norris and me. I drew the line at
allowing the boarhound to sleep on my bed, but pity for his loneliness
had compelled me to allow him to sleep by my fire. I missed Hagrid too.
*******
My dream was unusually vivid.
Old Apollyon Pringle stood before me, large as life and twice as
angry. His iron grey hair was a wild halo around his head and his brown
eyes glared at me from beneath bristling grey brows. His gnarled,
knobbly hands were clenched angrily at his sides.
At least I didn't see the whip or belt that I half-expected to see
clutched in his right hand. (The brats who attend Hogwarts these days
think that *I'm* harsh. They have no idea how fortunate they are.)
"Filch!" the old Caretaker snarled at me. "What did I teach you?
Always keep an eye on the brats! Professors and students alike, you
can't turn your back on them for a minute!"
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't be sorry. Just wake up! For good or ill, the thing has been
made. And now, for everyone's sake, it's got to be put away, in its
proper place. It's much too dangerous to be left lying about!"
*******
Awakening with a start, my heart pounding, I sat bolt upright in
bed. The sun had risen, but the day was grey, overcast and gloomy.
Green-and-silver was already waiting for me on the wall of my bedroom.
"Stay here," I told Mrs. Norris, who was curled in front of the
fire beside Fang. Without giving her a chance to accompany me, I shoved
my feet into my slippers and hurried through Salazar's Door.
I emerged into the dungeon corridor outside the Potions Classroom.
The terrible cold all around me was enough to freeze my blood. It was
like stepping into a harsh winter night. The thin nightshirt offered me
scant protection, but I hadn't taken the time to change into anything
warmer. My breath misted in the air. The walls, ceiling and floor of the
dungeon corridor were coated with ice. I sighed, exhaling a puff of
vapor. This was what I'd been afraid I'd find.
My vivid dream had been more than a dream. Hagrid had been right;
the Castle would find a way to make Its wishes known whenever it had
'summat' that needed doing. At least speaking to me in a dream was less
painful than the Castle's prior method of communication had been. If
'the thing had been made' then perhaps the danger to Severus alone had
already passed. But the creation of the Alchemist's Door evidently posed
a threat to the Castle somehow.
I did not know who to feel sorrier for, myself or Severus. The
young wizard had been the first one to create an Alchemist's Door in
over a thousand years. And now, it appeared to be the Castle's will that
I should take the Alchemist's Door away from him.
To Be Continued...