Librarian Plus Janitor Equals WHAT?

by The Lime-Wielding Ninja

Harry Potter was right all along. There IS something between Madam Pince and Filch. What it is, even they aren't quite sure. This proves to bring chaos. Not slash, although it might be hinted at in the future. I don't own the characters.

4. Chapter 4

Librarian Plus Janitor Equals WHAT?

Chapter 4

Argus Filch would have been dancing down the halls the next day, had it not been for the severe arthritis in his knees. He went about his usual duties, whistling a happy tune, and barely even took notice of the young couple snogging in his supply cupboard. He merely tipped his hat to them (Argus usually didn't wear the silly thing, but he'd been listening to an old '50s record with love songs on it last night, and deemed the boater appropriate for his mood) and returned to the hallway on the third floor where Peeves had thrown several dung bombs. The day was glorious and sunny, the trouble-makers remained relatively dormant, and he'd set himself up a date with Irma for the Thanksgiving weekend.

Irma Pince turned the page of her romantic novel, barely paying attention to the plot. She and Gus were going to Hogsmead together for the Thanksgiving weekend, and she thought about it all the time. She'd have to discuss it at the girl's night (it was formally called the Ladies' Tea, but Irma always thought of it as more of a girl's night) that happened each month or so, all of the female staff at Hogwarts invited. They always gossiped and chatted about which students they though were dating, which ones they'd caught doing inappropriate things. The conversations usually kept Irma going through the month, because she'd mostly listen; this time, she'd be the one talking.
"Excuse me, Madam Pince," whispered a fourth year Hufflepuff, "could you tell me where to find the section about plants and herbs?"
Ordinarily, this question would have been answered briskly and directly. Today, Irma said "It's five shelves down that way, and about halfway down the aisle, dear." The student was stunned at Irma's sweeter-than-ususal tone of voice for a moment, expecting the sharper answer. The fourth year shook her head and went along her way.

A/N: I was reading a book today by one Gideon Defoe (I think that's his name). I've copied his style a bit here. I didn't mean to.

This is a piece of insanity I've been saving up for a while, just letting it build until I can let it explode, full force.