To Save a Squib
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
Chapter 1: Garden Party
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
I ran to the small grove of birch trees, tumbled down the small hill and landed, gasping, in the
cold water of the stream. The shaggy black animal that ran beside me was as huge as a bear. He was the
largest one-headed dog I'd ever seen.
He was more than a simple dog, I knew. The wand now clutched in my shaking hands belonged
to him. He was a wizard. An Animagus.
Unseen by anyone, Severus had given me the wand. My hands had been bound behind my back.
Snape had slid the wand between the ropes holding my wrists together. None of the other Death Eaters
had seen what their Alchemist had done.
"Take the dog with you, when you go..." Severus had hissed in my ear.
********
Earlier, Professor Snape had given me a potion. I had lain numb and drugged on the stone floor
of the ruined tower's dungeon while he'd knelt beside me, taking precisely what he needed. One tooth
(another molar, from the opposite side of my jaw as the last time.) One nail from my right index finger. A
hank of my hair. And, finally, he'd cut a long, bloody strip of skin from my right shoulder, carefully
catching the blood and collecting it in a small, crystal vial.
I'd felt strangely detached from all of this, no pain, no fear. As if these terrible things were
happening to some other unfortunate Squib. I could even admire Snape's expertise with the knives and
pliers. He did not waste a single motion, nor did he spill one unnecessary drop of my blood.
Around us in the torchlit dungeon, other Death Eaters had stood. Terrifying in their dark robes
and masks.
Nearby, a small cauldron had floated in mid-air over a low fire. Beside the cauldron, also
floating, were a small, silver dipper and a tiny porcelain container, shaped like an inkwell, with a quill
sticking out of it.
I could tell which of the anonymous masked, robed figures was Lucius Malfoy. He was the one
holding the scroll.
"Excellent, Severus. Do remember to take proper care with the temperature this time..." Lucius
Malfoy had drawled slowly.
"We cannot afford any more mistakes this evening. He will be here very soon."
There was fear hidden within the light mockery in Lucius Malfoy's elegant voice. He was trying
to conceal it from everyone. But, with all my own emotions numbed, nothing distracted me from picking
up the nuances evident in the people around me.
Malfoy was afraid for his own sake, yes. But, I thought, he seemed to be even more afraid for
Severus. His stance, as he loomed over the kneeling Potions Master, was protective.
Even detached as I was, I approved.
The Headmaster's subtle work had borne fruit. Dumbledore had reminded Lucius Malfoy that
Slytherin House was far older than the Death Eaters. Malfoy knew that the responsibility for the future of
his House and the safety of his son, rested in Snape's hands.
"There will be no mistakes, Lucius." Severus murmured coolly. "Not this time."
Snape's last comment was spoken very softly. So softly that only I could hear him.
"I know precisely what I am doing."
*******
It was spring, and the icy stream was running fast and high. Weakened by pain and blood loss,
and by a desperate struggle that still continued, I collapsed face down into the water. Snape's potion had
worn off, precisely when he'd predicted it would.
I'd been able to fight, when he'd needed me to fight. And then, I'd been able to run.
My companion, the black dog, had been injured far worse than I. His fur was matted with blood
and he was limping on three legs. Yet, he grabbed my shoulder in his powerful jaws and wrestled my head
up and out of the stream.
Choking and sputtering I clung to him, hiding my face in his shaggy side.
Inside of me a battle raged. Magic roared through me; both my own and that of a far more
powerful wizard. I held a mighty serpent by the tail while his fangs sought my throat.
Lucius Malfoy.
Severus Snape's plan had been desperate and reckless enough to impress even a Gryffindor.
Though, of course, Snape had insisted that all the risks were carefully calculated in advance.
Poor Severus. I hoped I hadn't killed him. I hadn't wanted to kill any of them. Leaving Snape
alive and all the others dead would have looked too suspicious. No one would die tonight, if I could help
it. Snape had been one of the first I'd attacked and rendered unconscious. I'd wanted him put out of the
fight as quickly as possible.
I had not known how difficult this much magic would be to control! Behind us, the tower was a
total ruin. I knew that Malfoy still lived, because he was fighting me for the power I'd stolen from him.
The fate of the other Death Eaters was uncertain.
Surely, Malfoy would have shielded Severus when the tower fell. Blessed Merlin, I hoped so!
"Apparate...!" I choked to the black dog. "L-leave me...!"
Hands trembling, I slid the wand into his open jaws.
I had no idea who this wizard was. He was another one of Dumbledore's agents. Snape had
simply referred to him as "that idiot Gryffindor!"
The Animagus had already saved one innocent life tonight, and nearly lost his own. Badly hurt
as he was, he was clearly a powerful mage. He might still have the strength to escape if he was willing to
abandon me.
But, the "idiot Gryffindor" did not abandon me.
He stayed still while I clung to him and screamed in agony.
*******
The first time I'd seen this black dog had been a week earlier. He'd been with Harry Potter, at
Hogwarts, for the garden party.
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, had wanted to show the Wizarding world that everything
was "perfectly normal" at the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Europe. And so, the Minister
had strongly suggested to the Headmaster that Dumbledore should open up the Castle and have a party for
the students and their families.
Albus Dumbledore knew that nothing was "perfectly normal" in a world where Voldemort had
risen once more. And he knew that opening up the Castle to the students' families (a mixed group that
included both Death Eaters and Muggles) could be potentially quite dangerous.
But, he'd liked the idea of a party.
"What a splendid idea! We can have it outside!" He'd told the Minister. "The weather is turning
quite nice."
The Headmaster had neatly sidestepped any arguments about refusing to let so many people into
the Castle to wander about unsupervised. Minister Fudge had been expecting another debate about He
Who Must Not Be Named. He was so relieved not to have had one, that he hadn't objected to a garden
party instead.
On the grounds, in front of Hogwarts Castle, four large pavilions had been erected; one for each
of the four Houses. Around each of the pavilions, plants and flowers had been artfully arranged, all
carefully chosen to represent the four Houses' colors.
I remembered actually looking forward to the event. Not because I wished to attend. Quite the
opposite. I meant to spend as little time as I could at the festivities. But the Castle would be quiet during
the party. Better yet, the bulk of the cleaning up would not fall to me, though I would help a great deal, of
course.
For many years I would have been able to get away with hiding in my dungeon office, far from
any noisy, crowded celebration. But now there were children who insisted that I do otherwise.
"But, it's too much excitement for Mrs. Norris!" I'd told Ginny, stubbornly. "You know that she
needs a lot of rest and quiet in her delicate condition!"
"Take Mrs. Norris upstairs and let her have a nap on your bed, Mr. Filch. She won't mind if you
go outside, just for a little bit. Isn't that right, Mrs. Norris? You know that Neville and I won't let
anything happen to him."
My traitorous cat had purred acquiescence at Ginny.
"I'll be outside, waiting for you," my young, red haired friend had said. Her tone had implied that
she would come searching for me if I didn't appear outside within a reasonable amount of time.
Ginny may be small and sweet, but she's a force to be reckoned with. So, a short while later, I
found myself obediently walking out the Castle's front door and down the stone steps to meet her.
Naturally, she did not allow me to hide myself somewhere out of the way. The Castle grounds
were full of people, mingling everywhere. Ginny caught me by the hand and pulled me into the throng.
I could have pointed to the Headmaster and each of the Professors, with my eyes closed. Each of
them, aware of the dangers in such a gathering, were surrounded by a corona of magic. They made
especially sure to watch over the Muggle relations of the students who came from mixed, or Muggle
families.
Professor Snape had an especially difficult task.
"You make sure that you keep those blasted Death Eaters away from the Muggles!" Alastor "Mad
Eye" Moody had snarled at his fellow Slytherin.
The old Auror had thought that Dumbledore was completely mad to have allowed the Minister to
talk him into a party. Snape had voiced a similar opinion when the Headmaster had told the staff about
the upcoming event. But, rather than openly agree with Mad Eye, the Potions Master had just sneered.
"I do not need you to remind me of my responsibilities, Moody."
Now, dressed in a somber black robe a bit more elegant than his everyday ones, Severus moved
easily among the assorted Slytherin families; both those with ties to the Death Eaters and those who were
innocent of such Dark alliances. He alone knew who deserved his special scrutiny.
By the end of the day, I knew that the poor man would have a pounding stress-headache.
Ginny was pulling me towards a knot of mostly Gryffindors. "Don't worry. It will be fine. You
already know my family..." she was saying. "It's just my Mum and Dad and Percy. Bill and Charlie
couldn't come today. You've always liked Percy... you told me so yourself."
"Ginny! Stop... they're having a good time. They don't want to see me." I protested.
"Hush! You're not as awful as you want everyone to think... not by half. You're just shy."
My look of outraged indignation completely failed to intimidate her.
"Come along, Mr. Filch. Hermione's parents are there, with my Mum and Dad. And the
Creeveys. And Mr. Finnegan is here with Mrs. Finnegan, and there are the Thomases too. You've said
that you should like to meet real Muggles, someday! Here's your chance..."
The faces and the names were mostly all a blur to me, I felt so nervous. The Muggles were
dressed oddly but they seemed quite kind. They must have thought it especially decent of the Headmaster
to hire a poor, mute Squib as caretaker since I couldn't manage to do more than nod at them.
Mr. Creevey was a surprise. The mousy-haired Muggle milkman who had sired two small
wizards was a giant. (Oh, not compared to Hagrid, of course. But he towered over almost everyone else.)
His dainty little wife was the tiny one. I wondered if Colin and Dennis might someday take after their
father.
Only Harry Potter's mysterious Muggle relations appeared to be nowhere in evidence. But the
boy seemed happy enough.
He was with Ron and Hermione. All three of them were alternately playing with a huge, black
dog, and stuffing the beast with food.
At the time I did not know that anything was unusual about the creature. I just hoped that they
weren't going to overfeed it until it got sick.
*******
A grumpy old misanthrope like me is simply not used to being around so many people at once.
Before long I had a headache every bit as bad as the one that Snape was surely getting.
There were too many people about for me to just call a Door and vanish. So, I made my excuses
to Ginny and headed back towards the Castle.
On the way, I bumped into Neville. Fortunately, Neville did not threaten to drag me off and
introduce me to his family. (He knows what I think of his great Uncle Algernon, who once dangled my
poor young friend out of an attic window.)
Neville was carrying an untouched plate of food. He'd clearly intended to eat it himself, but he
gave it to me, instead.
"Here. You'll feel much better if you eat something. You don't want to upset Mrs. Norris, do
you? She'll hiss at you if you go back in looking so pale. Wait here, and I'll fetch you something to
drink."
Neville darted away before I could thank him for the food and ask him if he could find me
something to drink that was a bit stronger than pumpkin juice.
My young friend bumped into a slender dark skinned girl, her ebony hair done up in many tiny
and elaborate beaded braids. She was his age, and not dressed as a Muggle. But I didn't recognize her.
She wasn't a student at Hogwarts.
"Oh! I'm sorry... terribly clumsy of me!" Neville said, blushing as he helped her up.
"That's all right..." the girl said, shyly.
"Callandra, sweetheart! Are you hurt?"
A slim, dark skinned woman in blue robes came hurrying up to the girl, her manner anxious and
very protective. At first I was puzzled by this. Callandra did not seem frail or sickly.
I recognized her mother. Hyacinth Murray had been the Ravenclaw Seeker during her school
days. She'd married Reuben Moffitt. The Murrays and the Moffitts were both old wizarding families,
primarily sorted into Ravenclaw, for many generations. Daniel, their son, was a Ravenclaw in his second
year.
Callandra should have been at Hogwarts too. Like all the rest of her family. But she wasn't.
The answer to that puzzle should have been obvious to me, of all people! It must have been the
headache.
And, the fact that I'd never really met another Squib before.
Hyacinth Moffitt was looking Neville over, clearly making sure that his collision with Callandra
had just been an accident.
Fortunately for him, Neville is the most harmless-looking person imaginable.
Hyacinth turned her sharp gaze on me next. Most of those who have been students here find out
what I am, eventually. Hyacinth knew that I was a Squib, like her daughter.
Her Seeker's eyes raked me up and down. When our eyes met, hers were full of pain.
"My sweet child is not going to end up anything like *you!*" Hyacinth Moffitt was clearly
thinking.
She clutched her daughter to her, fiercely as if she'd just seen the girl's death-omen.
"Mum!" Callandra protested.
"Neville... I'll see you later. I'm not hungry." I murmured, flinching as if Hyacinth had struck
me.
Without waiting for Neville's reply, I'd fled.
*******
If I'd stayed, could I have changed anything? That is one of many things that I don't know.
Which Death Eater eventually noticed poor Callandra? Was it Lucius Malfoy himself or one of the others?
Does it matter? One of them did, and she was in danger from that moment forward.
Severus had often worried that Lucius Malfoy might discover another Squib scroll. But, Severus
did not know that Lucius had already done so. And Severus had his hands full at the moment, worrying
about protecting the Muggles and the Muggle-borns. He wasn't thinking about Squibs at all.
And so, it began.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
*******
Author's Notes: Thanks to the nice folks who reviewed the last chapter of "The Way of the Squib!"
Alchemine: Thank you!! Some Squibs probably do get abused and abandoned. And there may be
orphanages meant for Squibs. But, many are surely loved very deeply by their families.
Your image of Dumbledore in his bathing suit was priceless! And PERFECT!
Wow! The Crookshanks plush is labeled "Mrs. Norris??" I was unable to find a Crookshanks for my
younger son, who had every possible Harry Potter item on his Christmas list this year. I wish I'd found
one...
Laundry!!! EEK... It's piling up all around me. I'm going to have to do a load or three, just as soon as I
finish typing.
RADKA: Thank you!! All my cats have always been fixed, so I've never known about cats eating their
young. Do you mean stillborn kittens? Hopefully not living, healthy kittens...
Triskelion: Thank you!! At the moment, Crookshanks is "Mr. Norris."
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Filch and Ian may meet again someday.
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! Moody knows about what Filch can do... he noticed because he's worked
with Squibs who have had the same talent.
Yes, I think of Squibs as the Wizarding world's equivalent of physically disabled people too. My heart
ached for Filch as soon as I found out what he was in "Chamber of Secrets."
I honestly didn't realize this when I started writing these stories, but a lot of how I see Filch comes from
my own experiences. My dad was blind. He coped magnificently in a world that sometimes seemed set up
especially to make life hard for him. And dealing with his blindness gave him talents and strength that
inspired me.
(Hey, Dad! These stories are dedicated to you, even though I never realized it, till now.)
Thank you... Your insightful comments made me see where a lot of my inspiration comes from. I am
looking forward very much to reading more of "Giving Notice!"
Jelsemium: Thank you!! I've been thinking about Harry and the Doors. If he is Gryffindor's Heir (and I
think he is) then Harry should be able to use Godric's Door. I don't have story plans for this yet, but if
Filch were to take him through red-and-gold, it would be obvious. There would be none of the usual
"resistance" that Filch gets when he brings a passenger through. And Harry wouldn't get sick afterwards.
One trip with Filch would be enough for the Door to "notice" Harry and recognize him as another
authorized user.
Harry would be able to use Godric's Door as a convenient shortcut through the Castle, but if he tried to
take Ron and Hermione with him, they would get violently sick. And he would have to hang onto them
tightly, or he'd lose them and not be able to go back for them easily. The consequences of being "lost"
inside the Doors are very serious; madness and death. When Harry goes through alone he would
experience no resistance. Filch would warn Harry not to take passengers, unless it was to save them from
certain death.
Harry would not be able to "call" Godric's Door without a great deal of practice. Maybe years. Filch can
do it easily now, but he used the Doors for many years first without being able to summon them. Though
Godric's Door would probably be fond of Harry and follow him around, hoping to be Useful. (All four
Doors followed Filch around for years before he even realized what they were doing.)
Dumble-Door!! Oh Lordy!!! Did that make me laugh!!! I am not boo-ing. I am groveling humbly at your
feet, O Queen of Puns! I am not worthy....
Yes, Dumbledore does have more than enough power to make a Door of his own. He might do it, just so
he can dive into deep bathtubs. He will, of course, clean up all the water on the floor when he's done.
Poor Harry has to deal with lots of rumors and gossip. You're right... people will talk, even if they don't
know what they're talking about. (The Wizarding world is no better than the Muggle one in that respect.
Look at all the crap poor Hermione had to deal with after Rita Skeeter wrote that nasty article about her.)
I don't have any plans yet, for Filch to find out the awful details of Harry's life with the Dursleys. But
anything is possible.
(Ozmaniacs? )
Lataradk: Thank you!! I loved your idea of what Hermione does to catch her new subjects!
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!!
Elspeth: Thank you!! Yes, house-elves like kittens. They'll be delighted to help take care of the little fluff
balls.
I think of Squib-ness as being the result of a birth defect. Filch's ability to "sense" magic is similar to a
blind person's sensitive ears, nose and fingers.
Moody may ask for Filch's help someday. It's another half-formed idea in the back of my head.
RioRaptor & Shadow: Thank you!! Yes, Harry, as Gryffindor's Heir, would be able to use red-and-gold as
a convenient shortcut through the Castle. Though he wouldn't be able to Call the Door, without a lot of
practice and he should consider the consequences carefully before taking passengers with him.
Gramaryre: Thank you!!
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Here's the start of the story with Severus and Sirius...
Rabbit: Thank you!! Filch does know how to swim now. But the thought of swimming in the lake scares
him.
Right now, Sirius and Severus are reluctant allies, working towards the same goal. Poor Filch doesn't
know who Sirius is, just yet. He's in for a shock.
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
Chapter 1: Garden Party
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
I ran to the small grove of birch trees, tumbled down the small hill and landed, gasping, in the
cold water of the stream. The shaggy black animal that ran beside me was as huge as a bear. He was the
largest one-headed dog I'd ever seen.
He was more than a simple dog, I knew. The wand now clutched in my shaking hands belonged
to him. He was a wizard. An Animagus.
Unseen by anyone, Severus had given me the wand. My hands had been bound behind my back.
Snape had slid the wand between the ropes holding my wrists together. None of the other Death Eaters
had seen what their Alchemist had done.
"Take the dog with you, when you go..." Severus had hissed in my ear.
********
Earlier, Professor Snape had given me a potion. I had lain numb and drugged on the stone floor
of the ruined tower's dungeon while he'd knelt beside me, taking precisely what he needed. One tooth
(another molar, from the opposite side of my jaw as the last time.) One nail from my right index finger. A
hank of my hair. And, finally, he'd cut a long, bloody strip of skin from my right shoulder, carefully
catching the blood and collecting it in a small, crystal vial.
I'd felt strangely detached from all of this, no pain, no fear. As if these terrible things were
happening to some other unfortunate Squib. I could even admire Snape's expertise with the knives and
pliers. He did not waste a single motion, nor did he spill one unnecessary drop of my blood.
Around us in the torchlit dungeon, other Death Eaters had stood. Terrifying in their dark robes
and masks.
Nearby, a small cauldron had floated in mid-air over a low fire. Beside the cauldron, also
floating, were a small, silver dipper and a tiny porcelain container, shaped like an inkwell, with a quill
sticking out of it.
I could tell which of the anonymous masked, robed figures was Lucius Malfoy. He was the one
holding the scroll.
"Excellent, Severus. Do remember to take proper care with the temperature this time..." Lucius
Malfoy had drawled slowly.
"We cannot afford any more mistakes this evening. He will be here very soon."
There was fear hidden within the light mockery in Lucius Malfoy's elegant voice. He was trying
to conceal it from everyone. But, with all my own emotions numbed, nothing distracted me from picking
up the nuances evident in the people around me.
Malfoy was afraid for his own sake, yes. But, I thought, he seemed to be even more afraid for
Severus. His stance, as he loomed over the kneeling Potions Master, was protective.
Even detached as I was, I approved.
The Headmaster's subtle work had borne fruit. Dumbledore had reminded Lucius Malfoy that
Slytherin House was far older than the Death Eaters. Malfoy knew that the responsibility for the future of
his House and the safety of his son, rested in Snape's hands.
"There will be no mistakes, Lucius." Severus murmured coolly. "Not this time."
Snape's last comment was spoken very softly. So softly that only I could hear him.
"I know precisely what I am doing."
*******
It was spring, and the icy stream was running fast and high. Weakened by pain and blood loss,
and by a desperate struggle that still continued, I collapsed face down into the water. Snape's potion had
worn off, precisely when he'd predicted it would.
I'd been able to fight, when he'd needed me to fight. And then, I'd been able to run.
My companion, the black dog, had been injured far worse than I. His fur was matted with blood
and he was limping on three legs. Yet, he grabbed my shoulder in his powerful jaws and wrestled my head
up and out of the stream.
Choking and sputtering I clung to him, hiding my face in his shaggy side.
Inside of me a battle raged. Magic roared through me; both my own and that of a far more
powerful wizard. I held a mighty serpent by the tail while his fangs sought my throat.
Lucius Malfoy.
Severus Snape's plan had been desperate and reckless enough to impress even a Gryffindor.
Though, of course, Snape had insisted that all the risks were carefully calculated in advance.
Poor Severus. I hoped I hadn't killed him. I hadn't wanted to kill any of them. Leaving Snape
alive and all the others dead would have looked too suspicious. No one would die tonight, if I could help
it. Snape had been one of the first I'd attacked and rendered unconscious. I'd wanted him put out of the
fight as quickly as possible.
I had not known how difficult this much magic would be to control! Behind us, the tower was a
total ruin. I knew that Malfoy still lived, because he was fighting me for the power I'd stolen from him.
The fate of the other Death Eaters was uncertain.
Surely, Malfoy would have shielded Severus when the tower fell. Blessed Merlin, I hoped so!
"Apparate...!" I choked to the black dog. "L-leave me...!"
Hands trembling, I slid the wand into his open jaws.
I had no idea who this wizard was. He was another one of Dumbledore's agents. Snape had
simply referred to him as "that idiot Gryffindor!"
The Animagus had already saved one innocent life tonight, and nearly lost his own. Badly hurt
as he was, he was clearly a powerful mage. He might still have the strength to escape if he was willing to
abandon me.
But, the "idiot Gryffindor" did not abandon me.
He stayed still while I clung to him and screamed in agony.
*******
The first time I'd seen this black dog had been a week earlier. He'd been with Harry Potter, at
Hogwarts, for the garden party.
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, had wanted to show the Wizarding world that everything
was "perfectly normal" at the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Europe. And so, the Minister
had strongly suggested to the Headmaster that Dumbledore should open up the Castle and have a party for
the students and their families.
Albus Dumbledore knew that nothing was "perfectly normal" in a world where Voldemort had
risen once more. And he knew that opening up the Castle to the students' families (a mixed group that
included both Death Eaters and Muggles) could be potentially quite dangerous.
But, he'd liked the idea of a party.
"What a splendid idea! We can have it outside!" He'd told the Minister. "The weather is turning
quite nice."
The Headmaster had neatly sidestepped any arguments about refusing to let so many people into
the Castle to wander about unsupervised. Minister Fudge had been expecting another debate about He
Who Must Not Be Named. He was so relieved not to have had one, that he hadn't objected to a garden
party instead.
On the grounds, in front of Hogwarts Castle, four large pavilions had been erected; one for each
of the four Houses. Around each of the pavilions, plants and flowers had been artfully arranged, all
carefully chosen to represent the four Houses' colors.
I remembered actually looking forward to the event. Not because I wished to attend. Quite the
opposite. I meant to spend as little time as I could at the festivities. But the Castle would be quiet during
the party. Better yet, the bulk of the cleaning up would not fall to me, though I would help a great deal, of
course.
For many years I would have been able to get away with hiding in my dungeon office, far from
any noisy, crowded celebration. But now there were children who insisted that I do otherwise.
"But, it's too much excitement for Mrs. Norris!" I'd told Ginny, stubbornly. "You know that she
needs a lot of rest and quiet in her delicate condition!"
"Take Mrs. Norris upstairs and let her have a nap on your bed, Mr. Filch. She won't mind if you
go outside, just for a little bit. Isn't that right, Mrs. Norris? You know that Neville and I won't let
anything happen to him."
My traitorous cat had purred acquiescence at Ginny.
"I'll be outside, waiting for you," my young, red haired friend had said. Her tone had implied that
she would come searching for me if I didn't appear outside within a reasonable amount of time.
Ginny may be small and sweet, but she's a force to be reckoned with. So, a short while later, I
found myself obediently walking out the Castle's front door and down the stone steps to meet her.
Naturally, she did not allow me to hide myself somewhere out of the way. The Castle grounds
were full of people, mingling everywhere. Ginny caught me by the hand and pulled me into the throng.
I could have pointed to the Headmaster and each of the Professors, with my eyes closed. Each of
them, aware of the dangers in such a gathering, were surrounded by a corona of magic. They made
especially sure to watch over the Muggle relations of the students who came from mixed, or Muggle
families.
Professor Snape had an especially difficult task.
"You make sure that you keep those blasted Death Eaters away from the Muggles!" Alastor "Mad
Eye" Moody had snarled at his fellow Slytherin.
The old Auror had thought that Dumbledore was completely mad to have allowed the Minister to
talk him into a party. Snape had voiced a similar opinion when the Headmaster had told the staff about
the upcoming event. But, rather than openly agree with Mad Eye, the Potions Master had just sneered.
"I do not need you to remind me of my responsibilities, Moody."
Now, dressed in a somber black robe a bit more elegant than his everyday ones, Severus moved
easily among the assorted Slytherin families; both those with ties to the Death Eaters and those who were
innocent of such Dark alliances. He alone knew who deserved his special scrutiny.
By the end of the day, I knew that the poor man would have a pounding stress-headache.
Ginny was pulling me towards a knot of mostly Gryffindors. "Don't worry. It will be fine. You
already know my family..." she was saying. "It's just my Mum and Dad and Percy. Bill and Charlie
couldn't come today. You've always liked Percy... you told me so yourself."
"Ginny! Stop... they're having a good time. They don't want to see me." I protested.
"Hush! You're not as awful as you want everyone to think... not by half. You're just shy."
My look of outraged indignation completely failed to intimidate her.
"Come along, Mr. Filch. Hermione's parents are there, with my Mum and Dad. And the
Creeveys. And Mr. Finnegan is here with Mrs. Finnegan, and there are the Thomases too. You've said
that you should like to meet real Muggles, someday! Here's your chance..."
The faces and the names were mostly all a blur to me, I felt so nervous. The Muggles were
dressed oddly but they seemed quite kind. They must have thought it especially decent of the Headmaster
to hire a poor, mute Squib as caretaker since I couldn't manage to do more than nod at them.
Mr. Creevey was a surprise. The mousy-haired Muggle milkman who had sired two small
wizards was a giant. (Oh, not compared to Hagrid, of course. But he towered over almost everyone else.)
His dainty little wife was the tiny one. I wondered if Colin and Dennis might someday take after their
father.
Only Harry Potter's mysterious Muggle relations appeared to be nowhere in evidence. But the
boy seemed happy enough.
He was with Ron and Hermione. All three of them were alternately playing with a huge, black
dog, and stuffing the beast with food.
At the time I did not know that anything was unusual about the creature. I just hoped that they
weren't going to overfeed it until it got sick.
*******
A grumpy old misanthrope like me is simply not used to being around so many people at once.
Before long I had a headache every bit as bad as the one that Snape was surely getting.
There were too many people about for me to just call a Door and vanish. So, I made my excuses
to Ginny and headed back towards the Castle.
On the way, I bumped into Neville. Fortunately, Neville did not threaten to drag me off and
introduce me to his family. (He knows what I think of his great Uncle Algernon, who once dangled my
poor young friend out of an attic window.)
Neville was carrying an untouched plate of food. He'd clearly intended to eat it himself, but he
gave it to me, instead.
"Here. You'll feel much better if you eat something. You don't want to upset Mrs. Norris, do
you? She'll hiss at you if you go back in looking so pale. Wait here, and I'll fetch you something to
drink."
Neville darted away before I could thank him for the food and ask him if he could find me
something to drink that was a bit stronger than pumpkin juice.
My young friend bumped into a slender dark skinned girl, her ebony hair done up in many tiny
and elaborate beaded braids. She was his age, and not dressed as a Muggle. But I didn't recognize her.
She wasn't a student at Hogwarts.
"Oh! I'm sorry... terribly clumsy of me!" Neville said, blushing as he helped her up.
"That's all right..." the girl said, shyly.
"Callandra, sweetheart! Are you hurt?"
A slim, dark skinned woman in blue robes came hurrying up to the girl, her manner anxious and
very protective. At first I was puzzled by this. Callandra did not seem frail or sickly.
I recognized her mother. Hyacinth Murray had been the Ravenclaw Seeker during her school
days. She'd married Reuben Moffitt. The Murrays and the Moffitts were both old wizarding families,
primarily sorted into Ravenclaw, for many generations. Daniel, their son, was a Ravenclaw in his second
year.
Callandra should have been at Hogwarts too. Like all the rest of her family. But she wasn't.
The answer to that puzzle should have been obvious to me, of all people! It must have been the
headache.
And, the fact that I'd never really met another Squib before.
Hyacinth Moffitt was looking Neville over, clearly making sure that his collision with Callandra
had just been an accident.
Fortunately for him, Neville is the most harmless-looking person imaginable.
Hyacinth turned her sharp gaze on me next. Most of those who have been students here find out
what I am, eventually. Hyacinth knew that I was a Squib, like her daughter.
Her Seeker's eyes raked me up and down. When our eyes met, hers were full of pain.
"My sweet child is not going to end up anything like *you!*" Hyacinth Moffitt was clearly
thinking.
She clutched her daughter to her, fiercely as if she'd just seen the girl's death-omen.
"Mum!" Callandra protested.
"Neville... I'll see you later. I'm not hungry." I murmured, flinching as if Hyacinth had struck
me.
Without waiting for Neville's reply, I'd fled.
*******
If I'd stayed, could I have changed anything? That is one of many things that I don't know.
Which Death Eater eventually noticed poor Callandra? Was it Lucius Malfoy himself or one of the others?
Does it matter? One of them did, and she was in danger from that moment forward.
Severus had often worried that Lucius Malfoy might discover another Squib scroll. But, Severus
did not know that Lucius had already done so. And Severus had his hands full at the moment, worrying
about protecting the Muggles and the Muggle-borns. He wasn't thinking about Squibs at all.
And so, it began.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
*******
Author's Notes: Thanks to the nice folks who reviewed the last chapter of "The Way of the Squib!"
Alchemine: Thank you!! Some Squibs probably do get abused and abandoned. And there may be
orphanages meant for Squibs. But, many are surely loved very deeply by their families.
Your image of Dumbledore in his bathing suit was priceless! And PERFECT!
Wow! The Crookshanks plush is labeled "Mrs. Norris??" I was unable to find a Crookshanks for my
younger son, who had every possible Harry Potter item on his Christmas list this year. I wish I'd found
one...
Laundry!!! EEK... It's piling up all around me. I'm going to have to do a load or three, just as soon as I
finish typing.
RADKA: Thank you!! All my cats have always been fixed, so I've never known about cats eating their
young. Do you mean stillborn kittens? Hopefully not living, healthy kittens...
Triskelion: Thank you!! At the moment, Crookshanks is "Mr. Norris."
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Filch and Ian may meet again someday.
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! Moody knows about what Filch can do... he noticed because he's worked
with Squibs who have had the same talent.
Yes, I think of Squibs as the Wizarding world's equivalent of physically disabled people too. My heart
ached for Filch as soon as I found out what he was in "Chamber of Secrets."
I honestly didn't realize this when I started writing these stories, but a lot of how I see Filch comes from
my own experiences. My dad was blind. He coped magnificently in a world that sometimes seemed set up
especially to make life hard for him. And dealing with his blindness gave him talents and strength that
inspired me.
(Hey, Dad! These stories are dedicated to you, even though I never realized it, till now.)
Thank you... Your insightful comments made me see where a lot of my inspiration comes from. I am
looking forward very much to reading more of "Giving Notice!"
Jelsemium: Thank you!! I've been thinking about Harry and the Doors. If he is Gryffindor's Heir (and I
think he is) then Harry should be able to use Godric's Door. I don't have story plans for this yet, but if
Filch were to take him through red-and-gold, it would be obvious. There would be none of the usual
"resistance" that Filch gets when he brings a passenger through. And Harry wouldn't get sick afterwards.
One trip with Filch would be enough for the Door to "notice" Harry and recognize him as another
authorized user.
Harry would be able to use Godric's Door as a convenient shortcut through the Castle, but if he tried to
take Ron and Hermione with him, they would get violently sick. And he would have to hang onto them
tightly, or he'd lose them and not be able to go back for them easily. The consequences of being "lost"
inside the Doors are very serious; madness and death. When Harry goes through alone he would
experience no resistance. Filch would warn Harry not to take passengers, unless it was to save them from
certain death.
Harry would not be able to "call" Godric's Door without a great deal of practice. Maybe years. Filch can
do it easily now, but he used the Doors for many years first without being able to summon them. Though
Godric's Door would probably be fond of Harry and follow him around, hoping to be Useful. (All four
Doors followed Filch around for years before he even realized what they were doing.)
Dumble-Door!! Oh Lordy!!! Did that make me laugh!!! I am not boo-ing. I am groveling humbly at your
feet, O Queen of Puns! I am not worthy....
Yes, Dumbledore does have more than enough power to make a Door of his own. He might do it, just so
he can dive into deep bathtubs. He will, of course, clean up all the water on the floor when he's done.
Poor Harry has to deal with lots of rumors and gossip. You're right... people will talk, even if they don't
know what they're talking about. (The Wizarding world is no better than the Muggle one in that respect.
Look at all the crap poor Hermione had to deal with after Rita Skeeter wrote that nasty article about her.)
I don't have any plans yet, for Filch to find out the awful details of Harry's life with the Dursleys. But
anything is possible.
(Ozmaniacs? )
Lataradk: Thank you!! I loved your idea of what Hermione does to catch her new subjects!
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!!
Elspeth: Thank you!! Yes, house-elves like kittens. They'll be delighted to help take care of the little fluff
balls.
I think of Squib-ness as being the result of a birth defect. Filch's ability to "sense" magic is similar to a
blind person's sensitive ears, nose and fingers.
Moody may ask for Filch's help someday. It's another half-formed idea in the back of my head.
RioRaptor & Shadow: Thank you!! Yes, Harry, as Gryffindor's Heir, would be able to use red-and-gold as
a convenient shortcut through the Castle. Though he wouldn't be able to Call the Door, without a lot of
practice and he should consider the consequences carefully before taking passengers with him.
Gramaryre: Thank you!!
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Here's the start of the story with Severus and Sirius...
Rabbit: Thank you!! Filch does know how to swim now. But the thought of swimming in the lake scares
him.
Right now, Sirius and Severus are reluctant allies, working towards the same goal. Poor Filch doesn't
know who Sirius is, just yet. He's in for a shock.
