Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; I am clearly not that awesome.

Also, I wrote this for my Extension English class, so its main focus is Gothicism/Romanticism. My later stories will be centred even more on Fred and George, but I already had this written, so I thought I'd put it up. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, since Year 12 doesn't leave that much room for recreational story writing, but I have a few stories in mind, so maybe I can get them written quickly. Anyway, on with the show!

Filch's Demons

The cold metal chains shone in the dappled moonlight. Well-oiled manacles clanked and jingled as the pale, hunchbacked man suspended them from his stone roof and stood back to admire the effect. The manic glint in his eye intensified when he heard the familiar sound of his scrawny cat meowing at him.

'What is it, my sweet?' he asked eagerly. 'Students out of bed?' Picking up a lantern, he followed dutifully as the dust-coloured Mrs. Norris slinked back out of the room. Argus Filch hobbled and wheezed down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing on the ancient stone floor.

A sudden deafening CRASH followed closely by a door slamming shut threw Filch into a thunderous rage. He galloped ungainly toward the source of the cacophony and imagined a multitude of punishments he could inflict on the perpetrator. His mouth watered as he thought longingly of stringing them up by the ankles in his beloved manacles, and oh, how he missed the screaming. The clamor grew louder, and he wrenched open a door, only to narrowly dodge a chunk of gargoyle and half a suit of armour.

'PEEVES!' roared Filch. 'You insufferable fool! I'll have you kicked out this time! I thought you were a filthy first year.'

'Oooooh! Ickle firsties out of bed?!' cackled the poltergeist. 'Mischief making up for taking. Peeves will find them.' Peeves dropped the other half of the suit armour, which clanged loudly, and swooped out laughing.

'It's okay, my pet,' Filch said to Mrs. Norris, but the cat had already started off down the corridor again. Keys jingling in Filch's pocket, the odd couple worked their way through the castle, winding around darkened passageways and moving staircases until they found themselves at the large oak front door.

The caretaker produced a large, rusty key from his pocket and unlocked the door with a click. There was a great rumbling as the doors swung open to reveal a majestic starry night sky above an immense fog.

The two descended down a flight of stone steps and marched out of the castle. The night was still; only Filch's short, rough breaths broke the silence. The thick mist covered the grounds and was suspended, motionless above the vast expanse of the loch. The world was a wash of shadow and darkness that dissipated into the black of the water. The silence engulfed them as he peered around, trying to gain his bearings.

'Lead the way to the dirty troublemakers, my lovely.' He squinted as he shuffled after his precious cat, barely discernable now in the suffocating, dense fog. They struggled over rocky cliff heads and waded through overgrown shrubbery as soft, silent raindrops began to fall, dispelling the mist.

A flash of light split the sky, but now Filch could not see for the cascade of rain plummeting to Earth, drenching him to the bone. A follow-up deafening boom of thunder shook the ground beneath him and he gave chase to Mrs. Norris, shooting towards the forest for shelter. Panting, they retreated further into the cathedral of trees and Filch leant against the rough bark of a sycamore, trying to catch the breath that seemed to escape him. A drip trickled and quivered down his back and he shivered in the thick night air. The quietness suddenly seemed to engulf him again as the bower of trees created a canopy overhead, blocking out the din of the tumultuous storm.

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Mrs. Norris,' whispered Filch. The cat merely hissed in reply and wandered deeper into the verdurous foliage and mossy glooms. The caretaker raised his archaic lantern so that the pathetic light it emanated flickered hopelessly on the worn out path before him, and he struggled after her.

They clambered over roots and fallen leaves, hearing nothing but breaking twigs underfoot, and Mrs. Norris, sniffing for students, guided them off the trail and into an open mob of trees, the storm breaking through the canopy viciously.

'I hope there are filthy students in here,' cried Filch over the tumult of the thunder and rain. 'Those disgusting beasts. One day, I'll be able to give them all the punishment they deserve. They think they own the world, they do, and know more than everybody else. And then they pretend to be innocent when it suits them. Revolting.'

The gaunt cat stopped short and began hissing and spitting furiously. Filch stopped short in his tracks, horrorstruck by what he saw; two sets of identical pale eyes and a blinding orange light. His heart beating furiously in his ears, Filch turned around and around in chaos, whimpering, as the demons circled him, wondering what they would do to him. An enormous clap of thunder resounded from above and he dropped to his knees, begging forgiveness. He blinked and the demons disappeared into the shadows.

Filch had never been a god-fearing man but as the rain washed over his face he began to turn over in his mind the things he would apologise for – especially the way he treated students. He realized he was hunched over and sobbing loudly, admitting the things he regretted out loud.

Great booms of laughter were sent ringing around the alcove. Something was thrown from behind a large tree trunk into the midst and Filch stared, petrified, as it exploded. Fireworks lit up the darkness and formed the shape of three letters – WWW.

The realisation set in. Filch howled with rage. 'WEASLEY!'

This is my first fanfic, so please review =)