The Tale of Argus and His Dancing Mop

By EffingClouds

Argus Filch was undoubtedly the world's grumpiest man. Neville Longbottom did not know why he was. He once overheard Harry Potter and his friends say that he was a Squib. He often wandered the halls of Hogwarts listening to Filch muttering under his breath.

"Pucking students… think they can eat my cat… cannibal… chicken… frisbee… your face is sir…" Usually Filch was so incoherent when he spoke; nobody was sure what he had said. Neville wasn't even sure that Filch even said that recently mentioned example.

He watched students laugh at his run, his cat and when the Weasley twins bewitched his mop to smack him in the head whenever he touched it. Neville began to feel sorry for Filch.

Although Filch was never nice to Neville, he defended Filch nonetheless. He began doing small things to make his life better. Yelling at people who entered the castle with muddy feet and who then refused to lick it up. Leaving him small gifts of sweets, which the Weasley twins never knew he had swiped from their stores. He also campaigned for Peeves to be expelled from Hogwarts, gaining only three signatures: his own, Filch and Filch's cat, Mrs Norris.

Neville also confused many of his peers by referring to him as Argus. When ever they asked who that was Neville replied with Mr Filch.

"Who?" Seamus accidentally lit Dean's hair on fire with a misaimed spell.

"Mr Filch," Neville replied

"Yeah I know that. But who is he?" Seamus asked, putting Dean's hair out.

"He's the… caretaker,"

"Oh right. The bloke with the mop," Dean said with an inflection of comprehension his tone.

"Why does everyone call him that? He is an actual person! With feelings!"

"Well usually he always has a mop in his hand," Ron shoved a cake into his mouth, "And well, Neville mate, his feelings don't seem to match everyone else's"

"Neither does his appearance," added Seamus. They all sniggered.

"Although," Harry chipped in "Slytherin could give him a run for his money," they all laughed harder.

"I don't believe any of you!" Neville stomped up to the dormitory.

"Do you think he's been taking lessons from Hermione? It's like 'spew' all over again,"

"It's S.P.E.W Ron!" Hermione said hotly.

-----

This routine conversation continued for a few more weeks. Neville was at an end. Most people kept telling him that Filch wasn't worth it. He was a grumpy git and he was going to stay that way. He was not in the slightest bit interesting. Neville was going to have one last ditch effort to make Filch… I mean, Argus more appealing to the student body. Neville decided just before dropping off to sleep one night.

Tomorrow is my last day to try. After then… oh well. Filch'll live.

-----

Neville woke earlier than the rest of the boys in his dormitory. Even Harry was fast asleep, rather than gallivanting about the castle on a mission. He dressed himself, grabbed his bag and left the Tower. Walking down to the floor where Filch's office was, he was confronted by Professor Snape.

Squeaking in fright Neville turned back around and hid behind the corner, peeking around to see if Snape had gone yet. Looking on he saw that Snape had not noticed him, and had continued to… what was he doing? He appeared to be shuffling back and fourth. Also he was humming a tune, scatting in some bars and dipping back and fourth.

"Da-da-da-da! Front, back, side, front! Da da! And finish!" Snape jumped down to a full split on the ground with a flourish in his arms. He got back up, checked the corridor, and then swept into the room to his right.

Neville shook his head in hope that the event he had just witnessed did not take place. He walked around the corner staring the door that Snape had just disappeared behind. He hurried past and continued onto Filch's office.

The rest of the day, Neville followed Filch around when he had a spare minute, jotting notes down in a small notepad and muttering to himself. Filch did nothing particularly exciting. He cleaned, grumbled a bit, some paperwork, more grumbling and he fed Mrs. Norris.

Neville wasn't going to give up that easily. He vowed to follow Mr Filch until the clock struck twelve. Of course, he had to do that unnoticed. So it was time to ask Harry a favour of sorts.

"Harry? Are you busy?" Harry looked up from his book; Neville had found him sitting in the library.

"Not really, no," he frowned.

"I need to ask a favour of you," Neville sat down.

"Go ahead," he closed the book.

"I need to borrow your Invisibility Cloak. Just for tonight,"

"How did you know about it?" Harry lowered his voice, looking panicked.

"Well, you're not exactly sneaky about removing it from your trunk. So, can I please borrow it?" Neville looked pleading. He got down on his knees.

"Yeah, yeah alright! Just get off your knees. You're attracting some attention!" Harry grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him to his feet.

"Thankyou Harry! Thankyou!" Neville hugged him with gratitude. He stiffened beneath Neville's hold. Neville drew back, to see Harry glaring at him.

"Too far Longbottom. Too far," Harry shook his head and reached for his wand.

-----

Neville crouched in the shadows outside Gryffindor Tower as the last few students trickled back inside through the Fat Lady's portrait. He slid the cloak over himself then walked quietly down to Filch's office. Of course, being Neville, he was not as quiet as any normal Hogwart's student and he ended up crashing into two suits of armour.

He arrived at Filch's office to see Filch closing the door. He had with him a gramophone, his mop and was wearing a coat with tails that smelt strongly of moth balls. He followed him at safe distance so that he wasn't caught by Mrs Norris. He had a strong feeling that she could see through everything, including an Invisibility Cloak.

Filch ambled along the corridors humming to himself going further down into the dungeons, until he came to a door that he stopped in front of. He appeared to be waiting for something. He stood there, swaying on his feet. A sudden scuffling in the corner made Filch stop suddenly.

"Who's there?" Filch stood rigid in fright.

"It is I," a voice spoke, sounding very greasy.

"If you are a student step forward so I can see your face you little maggot," Filch suddenly became quite cross.

"I shall then," then Severus Snape stepped forward into the light from a nearby torch bracket.

"Severus! You-you…" Filch began to laugh. Snape did also. They walked toward each other and clapped the other on the back. "You scallywag!"

"I try, I do try,' Snape brushed his greasy hair back from his face. "Shall we?" he gestured to the door.

"We shall," Filch picked the gramophone up off the floor.

"Alohomora!" Snape pointed his wand at the door and turned the handle. They both walked into the room. Neville watching aghast at what was happening, followed also. Snape was now sweeping his wand around the room lighting up the torches and candles, making the room aglow.

Filch set the gramophone up on a nearby desk. The room was quite empty apart from that desk and a few chairs and bookshelves. Neville was puzzled because almost every room at Hogwarts was a classroom; this one appeared to be the exception. What on earth could they be doing?

The door swung open behind him and Neville scuttled to a corner. Some more teachers had entered the room. Professor Sinistra, Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. A few students also entered the room. Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbot, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Roger Davies, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Cho Chang and a little Gryffindor girl whom Neville did not know the name of.

Many of the teachers greeted Filch like an old friend. Draco Malfoy had taken off his winter cloak to reveal a shiny silver shirt and tight pants that were rolled to the knee so that Neville could see bright green leg warmers. The rest of the students were also casting off their cloaks to reveal many clothing styles of the same type. Neville could see ruffles, ribbons and flowers (not just on the girls).

Roger Davies had a white shirt with high pants and had put on a Spanish looking jacket over the top. Justin had only pants and a head band pushing his hair off his face. They both walked over to Cho who had on a very risqué dress.

Neville's gaze had shifted to the teachers, who thankfully had left on their original attire. Filch placed Mrs Norris on the gramophone on top of the record, who was wearing little socks on each of her feet. He then clapped his hands above the noise.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. I realise that we are running a tight schedule but we need to relax a bit. Let the music control us. Before we begin… Mr Davies?" Roger had his hand up and was gesturing to the Cho, Justin and himself. "Oh yes. Almost forgot. The three young students over there have kindly allowed us to view the Latin routine which they have been working on for the past month. The competition is next week,"

Filch invited them to come forward into the space. Neville's jaw had now dropped and he watched in amazement at the events taking place in front of him. Filch had changed the record and placed Mrs Norris on top of it. He cooed to her quietly and she began to walk, spinning the record. The music also began to play.

The three people in the centre were performing a dance of some kind. Cho being flung between the two men. A sort of three way tango. It became more complicated. As the song went on until Justin punched Roger in the face then it became a brawl.

"Is this part of the routine?" Professor McGonagall asked Cho.

"Um… I think so," she now stood awkwardly in the space, wondering where this was going. Justin threw one last punch at Roger's face who, collapsed on the floor. Justin went over to Cho, who was worried about Roger. Justin was trying to stop her. Cho seemed to pick up on something, and they were dancing again. Justin threw her in his arms into a dip then finished on the last note by kissing Cho.

The rest began to clap uncertainly. Until Roger sat up, apparently unscarred. They all stood up and took a bow to great applause. Filch was making little excited noises.

"That was wonderful!" Filch walked toward them. "Now the only thing I have as a criticism is…"

Neville could hardly believe his ears, or his eyes for that matter. A group of people were getting ready for a dance competition, late at night at Hogwarts! That explained why Snape was prancing around in the corridor this morning.

"Alright everyone! We're going to pair up, and practise that quickstep that has been tripping you up!" Filch changed the record. Mrs Norris began to walk again. The tune this time was more upbeat and happy, than the previous music.

All the dancers found their partners, and Filch grabbed his mop, which then sprouted a pair of arms and legs.

"Let's go!" They began to dance. And dance. And dance. Neville was extremely confused. Things like this just did not happen at Hogwarts! Neville had had about enough of this nonsense. He reached up to take the cloak off and it slid to the floor.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Neville stood up from his hiding place. The room gave a sharp intake of breath. Draco squeaked and quickly put his cloak back on. The record came to a scratching stop. As did the dancers.

"We were just uh… uh," Pansy was at a loss for words.

"And how dare you use my catch phrase!" Justin stood forward proudly.

"Sorry. What are you doing?" Neville stamped his foot for extra emphasis then looked to Justin for approval.

"Better," Justin nodded and stepped back.

"We were just um," Pansy picked up where she left off.

"Dancing," Filch spoke.

"Why?"

"Because no one else in this school cares,"

"But why? I mean, sure nobody wants to dance, but why dancing? It's just not normal!"

"Who says we were normal?" Ernie stood fourth. "I know what you all think of me! There goes Ernie the pompous, ostentatious buffoon!"

"Well… I uh… can't argue that…" Neville stood there now uncomfortably.

Snape began to walk toward Neville. "This is the only time and place where we can be ourselves. Without ridicule or persecution,"

"Severus is very right Mr Longbottom," another voice had joined the conversation. Professor Dumbledore walked out of the shadows. They all gasped.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Neville could only say that.

"Yes. Mr Filch felt that there needs to be a place of harmony in this school, where it didn't matter what house you were in, or what subject you taught," He looked around the room "I agreed and Mr Filch set up these lessons. Being a young ballroom champion myself and having seen Argus across the… competition field, so to speak, I also joined in."

"So this is all just so no one can feel alone?" asked Neville slowly.

"It is. I went about asking people who looked as if they needed anything. I asked them if they would like to attend. A few were… reluctant at first," he shared a smile with Draco. "But I persevered and we managed to build up quite a large number,"

Neville looked around the room. Everyone did seem to be at ease, except Draco. Who was trying to pull his cloak tighter around himself.

"Neville?" Professor Dumbledore stood closer.

"Yes Professor?"

"Would you like to join Mr Filch's dancing class?"

Neville looked at Mr Filch. "You, my boy, have been unusually kind to me. Not many people have gone out of their way to make this place better for me. If you joined I would be delighted!"

"Well I can't see why I won't,"

"Well that's that!" Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Music please Argus!"

-----

During classes the next day Neville saw Mr Filch mopping up some vomit in the corridor. The Weasley twins dropped something into his bucket that made it froth over and spill over the sides and begin to burn the floor with a sizzling sound. The rest of the students began to laugh as Filch danced around trying to avoid getting his feet burnt. The bell rang and they all hurried off to their classes.

Except Neville.

"Need any help?" He stood there.

"No. Now clear off and get to class you little Flobberworm!" he frowned at Neville.

"Suit yourself," he smiled at Mr Filch, who returned the gesture, then went on his way. Neville arrived at his next class. Harry Potter came up to his desk.

"Neville, about my Cloak. Do you have it?" Neville didn't answer for a moment. He had left in the dancing room. He then smiled then looked at Harry.

"Harry, do you like to dance?"

The End.