May 2, 1998

It was quiet. Too quiet.

It had been loud before. Explosions, scattered footsteps, yelling, the clamor could be heard all the way even from the corner Filch had hid himself. A narrow, dead-end passageway, whose entrance lay behind the suit of armor just a few halls from the Potions classroom. Deep in the dungeon, Filch was sure nobody knew of it, and if they did, they certainly had no reason to come there. Filch had scurried there as soon as the fighting had broken out.

And now it sounded like it was over. He sat there waiting, just to be sure—after all, he couldn't risk getting into the fight, with no way to defend himself—but after an hour with not a peep to be heard, he felt it was time to brave it.

He quietly crept up to the ground floor. He passed a few corpses on the way there. It was a shock to see a dead body, but also not a shock, given what had gone on, that a handful of people would die. It was a displeasure, of course, but also not. Filch had passed the dead body of one of the Weasley twins, who had always caused him trouble, and the bodies of some cloaked figures, who were probably Death Eaters.

Filch pushed open the tall door leading into the Great Hall. Then the true shock came.

The floor was littered with corpses, and there wasn't a living person to be seen.

In the center of the room, a very tall man, with scaly skin and a bald head, who could only be him, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, lie on the ground. Across from him, The Boy Who Lived, or The Chosen One, another trouble-maker of a student, lied down too. And more and more around the room, more red-heads, including the other twin, with a gaping hole in his head where his ear should be, Draco Malfoy, and two who looked like his parents. And professors as well, McGonagall, Flitwick, even the oaf Hagrid.

All dead.

Well, no wonder it was so quiet.

Filch dragged himself around the rest of the castle. The dead were not as dense, outside the Great Hall, but they were scattered. He peaked his head out of a window, and saw the grounds were strewn with corpses as well. In the library, Madam Pince was dead at her desk, apparently having thought that she would simply work through the battle.

Filch felt a pang of relief when he the first living thing to be found was Mrs. Norris, his cat, holed up in his office. He poured her some more food and then sat down at his desk.

"Can't let a few accidents get in the way of our job, can we?" he wheezed at Mrs. Norris, his voice hollower than usual.

On his desk was scattered an assortment of papers. A stack of detention reports, which was now useless, a record of confiscated items, and an accounting of cleaning supplies. He grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote a brief letter.

To whom it may concern,

A war broke out in Hogwarts. I have not identified any survivors besides myself. Teachers are dead. Students are dead. Many Death Eaters are dead. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is probably dead.

— Filch, Hogwarts Caretaker

e walked up to the owlery and sent an owl to the ministry. As soon as they heard, someone would surely show up immediately. Given travel time for the owl, that meant someone from the ministry would be here in a few hours at most.

Then he went about cleaning up Hogwarts, as he had always done.

Filch had never had to clean up corpses before. Dead animals sometimes, but with the bodies he knew he would have to be careful and preserve the bodies for a funeral. He moved people into the Great Hall and lined them up in rows, which took several hours to do on his own, and then he went about cleaning. Lots of furnishings had fallen over or broken. Some walls had chunks taken out of them. Blood was all over the walls.

He didn't have body bags, unfortunately, as so many dead bodies created quite a stench. The Great Hall started to attract lots of flies. Filch decided to keep out until some officials could come and deal with them.

But no official came the entire day. Filch was starting to worry that something else was amiss. Possibly an enchantment keeping others out?

It was almost nightfall when he heard a loud tapping on the window. Finally, the owl he had sent off had returned! Filch let him in, and reached out expecting the owl to stick out his leg for Filch to untie a message. But the owl started yelping and flying around the room, clearly agitated. He chased it until it calmed down, and then Filch saw that it wasn't even carrying a reply. Only the unopened letter that Filch had sent was attached to the owl's leg.

Worried now, he decided to take the letter down to Hogsmeade. He had rarely been to the village himself, as it was quite a walk, but he knew there was a post office there. They could make sure the letter was delivered.

But Filch felt a growing dread as he approached the village. It, too, was too quiet. No, of course it is quiet, Filch told himself. I'm still too far away. But Filch's rationalizations held less water the closer and closer he got. And when he passed the town's entrance, without yet having heard a single voice or footstep, he knew exactly what he would find.

Bodies on the ground. Bodies sitting on benches, hunched lifelessly over their papers. Bodies could be seen through the window fronts of stores.

He reached the post-office. A postal officer sat at the counter inside, dead, while owls flew around him in chaos.

Whatever happened at the castle, it must have reacher here, too, Filch thought. Then he remembered the letter that didn't come back. Could it possibly have killed everybody in the country? Or in the world?

Filch ran into the post office and spotted a fireplace on the side, with a bowl of Floo powder nearby. He would be able to get to civilization, find someone alive. But where to?

Someone he knew, someone who might be alive…

He grabbed a pinch of powder and threw it in the fire. It roared, tall and green, and Filch stepped in.

"Arabella Figg!"