A/N- Written for JPLE's Place, Time, Object Challenge
Prompts: The caretaker's office, Spring, after dinner, A tattered book
Betaread by the amazing .read
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In the Caretaker's Office
"Sit down," Filch commanded, indicating to the girl the rickety chair in front of his desk.
The fourth-year rolled her heavily-lidded eyes disdainfully and sat reluctantly on the edge of the chair, as if not wanting to dirty herself from it,as if it would transmit some horrible disease.
"Well, well, well," Filch wheezed, seating himself opposite her, behind his desk. "What do we have here then?"
He held up the tattered, leather-bound book he had snatched from the girl as she had sat reading it in a secluded corner of the grounds.
"It's a book," she said slowly, patronisingly, as if talking to a small child who didn't understand. "Is there a rule against reading now?"
"If it's just a book, why did you get so angry when I took it from you then, hmm?" Filch asked, leaning forward into her pale, arrogant face. If he had the ability to raise an eyebrow at her, he would have done so just then. It would teach her to treat her elders with respect.
"Because I don't like filth like you touching my things," spat the girl, obviously not feeling guilty, and making no attempt to conceal her disgust as she recoiled from him.
Filch spluttered angrily. How did she know he was a Squib? She couldn't possibly know; none of the students did. She was probably just one of those stuck up Purebloods who thought everyone was beneath them. That would be it. He forcibly calmed himself down and moved on in his questioning.
"I happen to know that this is a book full of dark magic that can only be found in the restricted section of the library. And why would a little fourth-year like you be sneaking around with a book from the restricted section, whilst everyone else is at dinner?" Filch waited for what was sure to be an obviously false excuse.
"I wasn't sneaking around, dinner has already finished, and," she continued with a satisfied smirk, "that's a blank notebook."
"A likely story," Filch huffed and flipped the book open with a flourish. Anger welled up inside him as he found that every single page had indeed been charmed blank. Incensed that he had been tricked, and very frustrated by the girl's supercilious grin, he shrieked viciously, "Detention!"
"For what?" The girl's calm, haughty demeanour shattered instantly and she shot up from the chair, anger crackling in her eyes and her dark curls bouncing across her face.
Filch tore a detention slip from the pile on his desk and managed to stab a hole straight through it as he violently attempted to poise his quill above the parchment.
"Name?" he barked.
The girl didn't answer, her fingers clawing around the wand in her pocket.
Filch was startled when Mrs. Norris jumped up onto his lap, hissing at the closed door. He was sitting in his empty office and he couldn't quite remember what he had been doing. He assumed he must have drifted off, though dinner had only just finished. Realising Mrs Norris was still hissing, he petted her fondly to try and calm her, before checking what was going on outside the door. Something had to have got her so riled up. Filch never questioned his cat. The door opened however, onto an empty corridor. Slightly disoriented; he thought this must be the effect of his nap, Filch walked back over to his desk.
Then he noticed the detention slip. That was odd, he didn't remember getting one out, but the quill that lay on top of it suggested he had been about to write something. He must have been getting it ready, he thought. There would be plenty of kids outside, running amok and enjoying the lovely spring evening, being noisy and rude and breaking the rules. Yes, he must have been getting ready to haul one of them back to his office. Snickering in anticipation, Filch made his way out into the grounds, Mrs Norris close at his heels.
