AN: Post-war. The more you read, the more you find out.
Epilogue: Argus Filch- Just Like His Father
Someone has to clean up all the messes.
Mud in the foyer, tracked by rowdy Quidditch players. A snot-nosed kid in round spectacles, grinning as he dripped mud on the stone.
Selfish, just like his father.
My most embarrassing secret, inked in black and white for all to see. Inches from where I left it.
Nosy, just like his father.
Mrs. Norris, whiskers stiff and still; body stiff and still. Tail wrapped grotesquely around the torch. Red oozing into words I cannot decipher in my rage on the wall.
Cruel, just like his father.
A parchment erupting from the flames; his name appearing; a hero once again. He looks shocked, but I can tell it's all an act. He thinks he's invincible.
Cocky, just like his father.
Eyes open and glassy, spectacles cracked and splattered from tears from his little friend.
No one can say he doesn't take after his father.
And guess who had to clean up this mess?