Argus Filch wasn't known as a nice guy. For that matter, he wasn't really known, nor did anybody think twice about him. That's probably why he was here, in Muggle London, getting ready to shop for something that would end his miserable life. He glared at the shops, not finding anything that was what he was looking for. He sighed deeply, in an almost defeated way, and began the search anew.
A little boy was walking around in the square of town, hoping that Dudley and his friends wouldn't catch up to him again. But, as he was wondering around, he felt a tugging inside of him. The small green-eyed boy frowned. 'It's okay' a voice hissed from his shirt. He bit his lip, but followed the advice and found himself moving through the crowds.
After a few bruises and muttered curses (by others of course) he found the tugging had stopped. He looked around and internally let his magic flow out to find the person he was searching for. Bingo. After his magic had locked on, he moved until he stood before the man.
Before him stood a tall man, with long hair, though he was slightly balding. He had a nose that made him think of the stories Dudley told him, the Witches and their Cats that would get him eventually. His eyes were a mixture of colours, blue, brown, and a hazel.
The green-eyed boy gathered all of his courage, and tugged on the mans' sleeve. Said man was brought out of his brooding, and turned a heavy glare to the small child.
"What do you want, brat?" The man snapped.
The child said nothing, but moved his hand to the mans chest.
"Keep 'yer filthy hands off of me you spoi-" but before the man could finish the sentence, he was whisked away.
No longer was he in London, but an endless space that was a brilliant white colour.
"Wha?" The man couldn't find it in himself to form a coherent sentence. A small giggle brought him out of his thoughts, and he quickly found his gaze stuck to a child. Said child looked to be around four or five-ish, with black hair that looked like something lived in, and sparkling green eyes. The boy held up a box that looked suspiciously like a wand box, but Argus knew that couldn't be so. He glared at the child once more, and was about to say something when he felt a tug inside of him.
He frowned, but walked to the child. The little boy smiled, holding up the box to the man.
The little boy didn't know why he was here, he just new that he had to help the man, and so he did his very best. 'He will be one of us soon, my small master' a voice once again hissed. The boy nodded slightly, letting his pet know he heard him. He watched as the man snatched the box out of his hands with a sneer, but soon the sneer disappeared. Instead, a look of fear passed onto the mans face. The boy's brows furrowed as he tried to reassure the man silently.
Almost as if the man had heard him, he began to open the box. What happened next was shocking for Argus Filch.
As soon as he had opened the box, an assault of memories attacked him.
There he was, a small boy helping his mother cook, the sound of her singing making the task fun.
There he was, helping a girl pick up her books after some jerks smacked them out of her hands.
There he was, in so many different ways, sometimes with a girl, sometimes on his own, but in some cases, using magic.
Then he heard it.
A voice that called to him, and before him stood, no, floated a presence that was so heartwarming he could feel tears fill his eyes.
"Argus," the angelic voice began, "you are one of many who have been wronged. However, we shall solve this. Before you is a small boy, one who is so pure that even the brightest light holds nothing to him. He had heard your soul crying out, and found your magic. Yes, your magic. Now, Filch, I will unleash it. Do be careful, for there are those who will wish you ill will. Go Filch, and be happy. Protect your beloveds, and live as you wish. For one at a time, we will eradicate the word Squibs!" and just like that, everything went black.
When he awoke, he was standing as though nothing had happened, but the little boy's hand that was still on his chest was shaking, and deep within himself, he could feel all of the power. The little boy looked up at him, and he heard a whisper in his mind. Before he could react, a woman came over.
"Harry Potter! Where have you been? What did I tell you about running off you little brat? No food for tonight, and you will be sent directly to your room when we arrive home! How...freakish...happen?" but as the woman took off with the little boys arm gripped tightly in her grasp, her words began to fade.
Argus Filch stood there, and the only thing he could think of is the words the little boy had said to him...
"Seeing isn't believe, believing is seeing. Be well, Mr. Filch."
Without a second thought, he went to the Leaky Cauldron, thinking about what he would tell Albus..
The sun began to set, and all was well in Muggle London once again...
Okay, so it might be kinda confusing, sorry. But I had to type it.
Harry Potter isn't mine.