Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, as it is the property of the very talented JKR
Author's Note: This is set quite a bit before Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - before Filch gets his cat.
Mrs Norris' Namesake
Argus Filch was known as a bitter, twisted old man who hated his life, and was liked only by his pet cat, Mrs Norris.
But he hadn't always been that person. Something had happened to turn him bitter and cynical, and there had been a woman who was the love of his life.
They were both in their mid 20s - young, hopeful, and full of life.
He was working in Diagon Alley at the time, in Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. She'd come in often, whilst he was working. She lived above Flourish and Blotts, and worked there too. When she wasn't working, she came into the ice cream parlour, and settled down in the corner with a good book.
He'd watch her as she sat there. Her skin was sheer and pale, her cheeks tinged with rosy pink spots. She had fiery red hair that fell into her hazel eyes as she leaned over the book, and she licked her lips whilst she lapped at her knicker bocker glory.
They often got talking, and they got on. Very well.
The only problem was, she was already married. Sure, she didn't love him, she said. They were married only because their families wanted them to, she said. But the fact still stood that she was married to him, and the husband stood in the way of anything happening between them.
One day, something did happen.
Rosalie smiled at Argus as they stood in Diagon Alley together, after all of the shops had closed.
' I suppose you're going home now? ' she asked, tilting her head to one side as she spoke.
When he nodded, she reached out and took his hand,' How about you come in for a drink, or something? ' she asked.
' What about Mr Norris? ' Argus asked, eyebrows knitting together in a frown.
' Jonathan won't be home for another hour,' Rosalie insisted,' he's gone to Knockturn Alley to pick up something or other for his mother's brithday present. '
' Knockturn Alley? ' echoed Argus.
Rosalie shrugged, tugging on his hand and leading him into her home,' What can I say? My mother in law is a curious woman - well, if you replace curious with dark and forbidding. '
When they were in the living room, he placed a hand behind her neck, fingers knotting into her hair, and kissed her.
She giggled, and kissed him again when he let go.
This time when they seperated, he grinned at her,' I think I might be in love with you, Rosalie.'
Rosalie smirked,' This is so wrong,' she whispered,' but the feeling's entirely mutual, my love.'
Lips met again, hands touched, skin on skin, and soon they were pressed together, locked in passionate embrace.
Only to be broken apart by a loud voice,' You stupid woman! ' a man bellowed.
Rosalie pushed Argus from her and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, loking at her husband with wide eyes,' Jonathan. I - '
He glared at her. He glared at Argus.
His fury was a terrible, terrible thing.
He beat Argus badly and threw him out of the house.
The next day, Argus didn't see Rosalie in the shop - Flourish and Blotts wasn't open, either. The Alley was full of gossip.
The owner of the bookshop had murdered his wife in a rage. No-one knew why, but screams were heard in the early hours of the morning. Jonathan Norris was taken away to Azkaban to await trial, whilst Rosalie was taken away by the medi-wizards for a post-mortem.
Argus felt terribly guilty, and spent the rest of his years hating himself for what had happened. He felt bitter and cynical about love form then on - love was unfair. It didn't work out.
And his cat was later named after the woman he'd lost. Not Rosalie, but Mrs Norris. To remind him that certain things in life were unattainable.