People, Year 2, Part 1
Disclaimer: None of the characters or settings mentioned are mine.
…
Filch
During his first year at Hogwarts, Link learned several things: don't eat Hagrid's rock cakes, never go in against a Slytherin when detention is on the line, and Filch holds all of the real power in the castle.
The man is gristled and grumpy, and Link had never seen the man cast a spell – but. Filch knew more about the inner secrets of the castle than anyone, except possibly the Weasley twins, and Link was in the business of knowing things. Everything. He was nosy like that.
His previous attempts to ingratiate himself with the man were unsuccessful – the man scoffed at his attempts to mop the halls, and yelled at Link for dusting the portraits. But this was a new year, and Link had a new strategy.
If he couldn't convince the man to like him, he would convince the cat.
It was a truth universally acknowledged (and proven, after last year's petrification debacle) that if Filch truly cared for one thing in this whole world, it was Mrs. Norris, his cat.
It was a simple equation in Link's mind: Filch likes Mrs. Norris, Mrs. Norris likes Link, Filch likes Link.
Unfortunately, this plan was not so easy to put into action. Mrs. Norris was a hellion of a cat, and did not for care for Link one jot. For the most part Link got on very well with animals – he could go up to any dog, and it would be happy to be pet or carried around, no matter how little time they had spent together. Sometimes, if he fed the dog, they would lead him to a small pile of treasure.
Cats were the same – Link spent quite a few evenings in the Gryffindor Common Room, collecting other student's cats and petting them until they purred gratefully. Owls practically flocked to him. He was even on speaking terms with the giant squid.
Link was great with animals. (Link very carefully did not think about pigs, which ran away from him and squealed when he caught them, or the fish he remembered shooting with arrows, or the cuccos. Dear Hylia, the cuccos.)
So, Link was positively flummoxed when he went up to scratch Mrs. Norris behind the ears she hissed and scratched him, unlike every other cat in memory. Stunned, Link regrouped. He tried bribing Mrs. Norris with first bacon, then milk, then fish. None were deemed acceptable. He planted catnip in the hall. Mrs. Norris hissed at it.
In a desperate bid, Link sat the cat down and explained to her that he was the person that slayed the Basilisk that had turned her into a statue last year.
Mrs. Norris was unimpressed.
Link kept trying – it might take him seven years, but Mr. Filch would be his ally yet.
…
Talo
It was his third night back at Hogwarts, when Link stopped and walked up to one of his not-Colin roommates, and points a finger.
"I know you," he announced, his face a mixture of confusion and triumph.
"I should hope so," the boy quirked a brow. He was wearing pajamas and a red bandana, placed at a jaunty angle. He was convinced that it was a cool look, and nobody had the heart to dissuade him of this misconception.
"No, I mean, I know you," Link continued emphatically. "Your name is Talo."
"Yes, yes it is," Talo sidestepped Link. He was eager to go to sleep. "We've lived in the same room for a year, of course you know me."
"You've really been here this whole time?" Link looked at Colin for confirmation.
Colin nodded. "You two had a whole feud about cockroach clusters in April, it was terrible."
"Oh," Link felt a little sheepish. "Well, then. Hi, Talo."
"Good night, Link," Talo threw himself into bed.
"Link, are you sure you're all right? Maybe you should visit the hospital wing…"
"No, I'm fine, Colin," Link argued. "I just got a little mixed up, is all."
"You forgot Talo," Colin frowned.
"No, I remembered him."
…
Strich
Link really didn't expect company, here, in a small corner of the dungeons, which he had only reached by crawling through a small series of tunnels populated only by bugs and spiders.
But there he was, a blond boy with long limbs and an equally long face. Link recognized him – his name was Strich – though he didn't know from where, or why.
"Hello," Link greeted Strich, still emerging from the tunnel.
"Hello," Strich said. He had a millipede in his hands. He smiled at the millipede. He didn't smile at Link.
"What brings you to this corner of the dungeon?" Link asked, brushing some of the dirt from his trousers.
"What are you doing here?" Strich countered, not answering Link's question.
"Exploring," Link settled down next to Strich, careful to avoid stepping on any bugs.
"Why," Strich stated.
"It's what I do," Link shrugged. The answer felt correct.
Strich continued to play with millipede. It crawled over and around his hands, curling and twisting. Link thought it was pretty cute, and he said so to Strich. Within a few minutes, Strich was sharing his life story. Link has that sort of face.
"I love bugs," Strich said, with the sort of reverence usually reserved for parents doting on their children. " I LOVE bugs. My one ambition is to collect every bug in the entire world."
"Cool," Link said. He had his own millipede now.
"I know, right?" Strich was grinning. "That's why I'm a Slytherin, you know. Or at least, that's what the hat told me. I have this huge, overwhelming ambition. It's all consuming. It dominates my thoughts – every bug in the world," Strich's eyes were wide and glassy. "But that's the problem, you see? Collecting bugs is my only ambition. Fame, power, good grades? I don't care about any of that. And that makes it hard for me to relate to the other Slytherins."
"Why would that be?" Link asked.
"Because they do care about all of those things. They yearn for better social statues, and academic status, and to be the most powerful wizard of all time. They don't care about the bugs," Strich gently scratched the millipede's midsection, as if to reassure the creature that he, at least, cared. "Link, they think I'm no better than a Hufflepuff."
"The very thought," Link said. Strich didn't notice Link's sarcasm.
"I know," Strich looked positively agonized. "What am I going to do, Link? I can't just pretend to care about grades or social status, I wouldn't have any time for my bugs. But I still want to have human friends. Or, well, my mom says I need to make human friends here, or she won't give me a bug net for Christmas."
"Strich, has it occurred to you that you could make friends outside of your House?" Link asked. "Friends who don't care about social status, or power, and would like you, bugs and all?"
Strich stared at Link, wide-eyed. "You can do that?"
"Sure can," Link said. "And I have just the fellow in mind, too…"
…
AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Sorry for the short chapter, I had some writers block and figured a shorter chapter a little late was better than nothing. Thanks for being patient with me!
