Outdoors a wild wind blew. Mrs. Norris lay on the ledge of the one and only window in her human's quarters and watched as hapless students tried to keep their robes in place enough for decency. She smirked a feline smirk and licked a soft gray forepaw, using it to smooth her face fur. She was not conceited by nature, or not more than any other cat, but at times like this she could not contain a certain smug satisfaction at not requiring clothing to look perfect.
The door of the room flew open, and then banged into and back out of place behind her human. He was a state of high dudgeon, his voice at its harshest as he pulled words from the height and breadth of his vocabulary to disparage the latest antics of the children who took advantage of every opportunity to make his life miserable. The cat had no idea what some of those words meant, but none of them could be good. Not when uttering them led to the kind of spittle that was spraying from the dear man's mouth. With a sympathetic chirp, she wove between and around his ankles, rubbing against him for comfort.
"They're plotting something. I can smell it," Filch muttered, dropping into the shabby overstuffed chair that was their favorite place to sit together. Mrs. Norris jumped into his lap and, ignoring his squeaks as she dug her claws in for traction, turned a tight circle several times before settling down. To demonstrate her understanding, she sniffed the air and then sneezed. He stroked her head, roughly at first and then more gently as he grew calmer. "I know they are. If I could just figure out what it is… If I could find it, I could turn it on them. I could turn the tables, make them the butt of their own joke."
With a bright prrrrp!, Mrs. Norris bounced to her paws, head-butted her human's chin and leaped from his lap. He might not be able to explore freely but she, the intrepid feline sleuth, could do the job for him. Why some of these children insisted on turning Halloween, already one of the liveliest, rowdiest holidays, into an occasion for pranking was beyond her.
Hardly was she out in the hall when a couple of the larger students lunged at her, swiping at her tail. She returned the favor by swiping at their hands. With claws. She left them bleeding and continued about her quest.
The cat thought she had attained her goal when she heard giggling coming from an empty classroom. Silly humans, leaving the door open! But no. All she found in the room were a pair of girls in very fancy robes, preparing for the evening's Halloween Ball, no doubt. One was dressed in sensible, respectable fashion, though the layers of gauze that drifted around her arms and legs presented an almost-irresistible temptation to flexing claws. The other girl was the cause of the giggling. The top of her gown had nothing holding it up, not sleeves nor straps. It appeared to be suspended by a spell, which failed while the uninvited spectator watched, exposing far more human anatomy than she ever needed to see.
Shaking her head and blinking quickly to rid her eyes of the spectacle, Mrs. Norris turned and continued down the hall. As she trotted along the corridor, an unpleasant aroma greeted her nose. She looked up, barely in time to get the traction she needed to initiate a mad dash to avoid two falling dungbombs. She squawked the dirtiest feline words she could muster, and pelted down the hall toward the safety of home. Sorry, dear human, but you are on your own.