Argus Filch was tired.
He was tired of his constant sacrifices.
He'd been in two Wizarding wars. He'd sacrificed years of his life for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, cleaning up after generations of students who felt entitled simply because they possessed something he did not.
Magic.
Being a Squib was something he had resigned himself to long ago, he'd taken up as Caretaker for the simple reason of desperately craving even the smallest taste of what he could never have.
But he was tired now.
Tired of the never ending onslaught of disrespect heaved upon him by careless students and, on occasion a handful of Professors. He was ridiculed for his love of Mrs. Norris, his need for cleanliness and order, and worst of all - being without magic.
He had told any Professor who would listen about these snivelling seventh years and their moronic game of Chicken and yet his words went unheard and brushed to the side.
Every year without fail, their little game included terrorizing him in some new and cruel way - this time he wouldn't run to a Professor or the Headmaster, this year he was taking matters into his own hands.
He would protect himself and his homestead by any means possible.
.
Hermione Granger - 250
Draco Malfoy - 245
Blaise Zabini - 220
Ginevra Weasley - 220
Ronald Weasley - 220
Dean Thomas - 220
Daphne Greengrass - 200
"I almost feel bad for the poor bloke." Says Ron over breakfast Saturday morning.
Hermione could barely keep up with the conversation. After the night they'd all had she had been buzzing with adrenaline for most of the night and it was only now wearing off, leaving her feeling tired and spent.
"For Morag?" Asks Ginny, eyeing her brother pointedly, it was rare that Ron showed much interest in empathy outside of his family, Hermione or Harry.
"No, that toss pop got exactly what he deserved, he did." Ron amends. "Terry Boot missed the cut off by seconds. Saw him crying on the third floor this morning."
"Less competition for us." Ginny states proudly leaning into Harry with a yawn.
"I'm just glad you lot hopefully won't have another challenge for at least a few days." Harry says, absentmindedly stirring his tea.
"The faster they throw these challenges at us, the sooner it's over and I can collect my winnings."
Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny's unwavering confidence and then appraises Hermione who has been uncharacteristically quiet during their meal.
"Getting nervous about Malfoy, 'Mione?"
"What, why?" She can feel her cheeks darkening and wonders if maybe he had heard Malfoy goading her while she crouched on the beam - coaxing her across the chasm with crude jokes. Ron would be exactly the type to consider it to be in some moronic subcategory of flirting.
"He's five points shy of your score." He quirks an auburn brow at her.
"Normally, no one would have come close to your score, Hermione." Says Ginny, lowering her voice. "You were the only one barmy enough to jump from the third point at Voldy's Drop, that earned you major points - but Malfoy's stunt up on the beam must have impressed the judges enough to make him your direct competition."
"Malfoy is the least of any of our problems." She responds, straightening her shoulders in her best impression of herself. "Exams are coming up shortly and between that and the game . . . Draco Malfoy is in last place in my mind."
"Is that so Granger?" Draco Malfoy slides into the seat next to her, a startling act. A Slytherin, willingly sitting at the Gryffindor table? He's very close to her, his side pressing against hers and his face angled towards her, eyes drifting lazily over her face. "Mmmm?"
She turns unflinchingly towards him, looking down her nose at the cocky snake.
"Mmmm." She nods, watching his eyes stray to her mouth and stay there for a fraction of second too long.
He grabs her toast from right off of her plate and takes a bite with a feral grin and then presses against her briefly before he leaves without another word.
She can't fight the colour that floods her cheeks as this attention he is determined to show her is so out of character. It makes her nervous that she can't predict his behaviour like she could before the war - jokes at her expense, comments about her blood and unruly hair.
Those were things she knew to expect from him - the little box in her mind labelled with his name had been neatly tucked away in her mind for years, sealed permanently shut. But now, with this new tactic he seemed to be using to get under her skin she'd had to pry that box back open and rummage through its contents.
Hermione Granger did not like things that she didn't understand.
"What was that?" Hermione can almost see the gears in Ginny's mind whirring in her eyes.
"Malfoy is playing to win."
"Yeah," Ginny nods, obviously not convinced. "But what prize?"
.
The next message from the judges is more of a whisper than the bang she's has come to expect. It's a portrait of a witch that Hermione knows she recognizes but with the stress and anxiety that seems to be constantly buzzing around in her head, she can't place exactly who it is.
The portrait is singing a song, a nice little melody that Hermione barely notices until the lyrics make her stop and listen.
Never fear, he's always here
To clear away the debris,
To continue on, you must pass the pond
Find his home hidden away in the trees.
All must gather,
All must come,
When the clock tonight strikes one.
The witch repeats the song, over and over and refuses to acknowledge Hermione or the questions she asks.
When she finds Ginny and Ron, at the Quidditch Pitch she tells them her findings and they both turn their brooms in unison and race off, leaving Hermione behind with tousled hair from the wind they had created due to their abrupt departure.
Harry swoops down from one of the goal posts and calls down to Hermione.
"Where are they off to?"
"Another challenge, tonight."
"So soon?"
"I suppose it didn't take the judges as long as the last time to come up with a new horrifying way to kill the off the graduating class." Hermione says bitterly. Harry supplies her with a consoling half smile and she heads to the library to get some studying in for her fast approaching exams.
.
The Forbidden Forest has always been eerie. She remembers her first Sorting Ceremony and the late Professor Dumbledore's warning speech about the dangers lurking within it's depth. It had a left an impact on all the new first years, but apparently not a long lasting one because Hermione had been a guest of the forest many times over.
Including tonight.
The players had gathered in front of Lee Jordan who already had their wands in his possession and listened closely as he explained the newest challenge.
"Filch lives in a small cabin in the thickest part of the forest. Your goal tonight is to sneak into his humble abode and steal something - nothing flashy or big, just a small item that proves you went in and came out unharmed."
The gaggle of seventh years who had only come to watch murmured conspiratorially amongst themselves. It was no secret that Filch had gone barmy a long time ago but after the events of the last few years his mental state had only deteriorated further. Hermione knew there had been talks among the Headmistress and Professors about retiring him but somehow the conversation had never proved fruitful.
Hermione couldn't recall the last time she had actually seen the caretaker performing any of his duties around the castle - he mostly lurked around in corridors, stroking his cat and terrorizing the students. He had become the newest Hogwarts Ghost.
"Once you have your item, return here where I'll be waiting to collect what you've taken and mark your time."
Hermione spotted Malfoy leaning casually against a gnarled tree trunk passing a flask around with Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini. Those four were always together, smirking and leering at other students, smoking and drinking to their hearts content. Malfoy caught her eye across the forest and held up his flask in a mocking cheers.
She smirked back, a perfect imitation of him and his friends and then turned back to her own.
"Should we go together?" Ron asks, zipping up his jumper and pulling his hood over his head.
"More chance of getting caught." Ginny says, deep in thought. "We should head to Filch's together, then I'll keep watch while you two go in - be a distraction if Filch senses anything off. The only thing is that you'll have to grab an extra item for me."
"I'll grab two things, but Gin, this distraction needs to be good if you want it to work. Filch has gone mad and everyone knows it. There's no telling what that git might do if he catches any of us."
"I got it, Ron." Ginny says. "Hermione, sound good? All you have to do is get in and out."
"Let's just get this over with."
.
The house is dimly lit, and there is faint murmuring that they can hear by their hiding spot in the shadows.
Filch is either talking to himself or Mrs. Norris and neither option speaks positively about his metal health.
The main house is surrounded by a few other structures, a large shed sits a few feet from the house and there is a fenced in area where an ominous scuffling sound echoes and then is punctuated by a low growling.
Hermione is creeping through the tall grass, crawling on her hands and knees towards the back of the house. She can hear that Filch is in the front room. Scuffling from the pen she's crawling by unnerves her and she crawls away from it as fast as she can, finding cover in the shadow of the shed. She peers around the corner and draws back quickly when she sees a shadow dart from the forest, disappearing behind the main house.
The time constraint spurs her into action because if it's Malfoy and he beats her time this round he'll effectively knock her out of first place.
She takes a hesitant step forward and her foot lands on something solid that echoes with the unmistakable sound of being hollow. Upon closer inspection she realizes that it's some kind of cellar. Light glows dimly from below and she wonders if perhaps the cellar connects with the main house - it's not unusual for homes in Scotland to have such structural attributes.
It would save her both time and the prospect of being seen so she feels around for a handle and finds a padlock attached to it that is, thankfully, unlatched. She pulls it open and slips inside soundlessly.
It leads to a makeshift staircase carved into a mound of dirt and leads into a long hallway. She pulls the door closed and steps carefully down the stairs, her eye trained on the narrow space in front of her. She can't see the end of the hallway and is rethinking her decision to come this way when she hears a dull thudding above her.
It stops at the wooden door.
Then, the unmistakable click of the padlock.
Someone has locked her in.
.
Ginny Weasley wanted to win Panic. It was her brothers legacy and as far as she was concerned, her money to win. She came from a poor family, always wanting more but earning less and she was sick of it.
Hermione Granger was the Golden Girl. A war heroine and The Brightest Witch of Her Age. Hermione didn't need this money. Hermione would graduate Hogwarts and go on to be the saviour of the downtrodden at the Ministry - they'd probably beg her to take any job she wanted.
She could be Minister for Magic if she really wanted.
Hermione Granger's options for her future were limitless.
So Ginny Weasley clicked the padlock shut and slunk into the shadows without a backwards glance.
.
There was no way out but to move forward and so Hermione did.
The hallway lead to a storage room filled with stores of potions ingredients, canned goods and jars of stuff that Hermione did not want to inspect too closely.
It was some kind of underground bunker, filled with all the essential things one would need to survive down here for a very long time.
At least if this cellar didn't connect to the main house she'd be able to survive until Filch found her, though he'd probably do away with her once he did so that idea didn't hold much appeal.
She eyed a collection of wands, probably confiscated or scavenged after the Battle of Hogwarts, and found herself tempted to use one. How would the judges know? She could go unlock the padlock and get herself out of here - she would lose a substantial amount of time but she was beginning to care less and less about points and time limits and more about finding a way out.
In the end, she turns away from the illegal wands because Hermione Granger does not cheat, under any circumstance.
The hallway, which seems endless finally comes to another dirt set of stairs and she breaths a sigh of relief, approaching the door quietly and pressing her ear against it to check for any footsteps or signs that someone might be on the other side of it. When she is sure it's safe she slowly pushes it open and emerges into the dingy excuse for a foyer.
A floorboard creaks to her left and she whips her head around to find Blaise Zabini watching her with a fading sense of shock. Then he smirks and taps his wrist to indicate that time is running out. He wordlessly slips by her and out the backdoor, taking off into the night.
She breathes out and gets to work finding something small to shove into her pocket.
Her eyes flick down a narrow and crookedly built hall to where the front door is clearly visible and organized by size and length, leaning against the wall are four intimidating hunting rifles.
Muggle guns.
Hermione pales.
Behind her something mewls loudly.
Mrs. Norris and her unnerving red eyes are staring right at her, and she begins to yowl.
Thundering footsteps sound in the next room, and then another set and then another.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Filch screams. "STUDENTS IN MY HOUSE!"
Hermione can hear him scurrying to the front room and above her and another set of footsteps - another player fumbling for something to grab and looking to make a hasty exit.
Hermione sees Filch's silhouette by the front door reaching for one of his rifles so she turns on her heel, grabs the first thing she sees, shoves it under her jumper and throws open the back door.
It smacks loudly into the wall as she leaps down the stairs and takes off at a sprint, aiming for the cover of trees. She can hear Filch screaming obscenities - things that would make even Ron blush and the she hears the gun shots.
The Hogwarts caretaker is firing a gun at her!
"NOT THIS YEAR YOU SMARMY LITTLE SHITES!"
Hermione makes it past the shed, the saving grace of the shadowy forest only a few feet ahead, if she can just make it a few more steps he won't be able to see her, she'll be safe.
A bullet wizzes past her head, embedding itself in a thick tree just ahead and showering her in splinters.
A few more steps and then she's tearing through the forest, a canopy of leaves overhead but before she can breath a sigh of relief - a gun shot.
A searing pain in her left thigh.
She stumbles, catching herself on a tree and using it to propel herself further into the dense growth of trees and underbrush. She's crying with the pain but unwilling to stop or turn around to see if Filch is following her. She hears another gunshot, farther away - perhaps on the other side of the property.
She keeps running. She runs through the pain, she runs even though she can barely see where she is going through the stinging combination of both tears and sweat in her eyes.
It feels like a lifetime before she makes it to clearing - limping and crying silently.
It looks like everyone has made it back before her and they all stand up when she emerges from the shadows, holding tight to her stolen object tucked under her jumper with her foot dragging uselessly behind her.
Everyone, players and otherwise stand statue still with eyes stuck on the bullet wound in her thigh, her bare leg is drenched in blood and the dirt and leaves in the forest that stuck to it. There is a gaping hole surrounded by pink flesh that jiggles like pudding as she pulls herself forward.
Malfoy, who she had seen leaning casually against a tree, straightens when she appears. His eyes are laser focused on her wound and even though she can barely see him through the darkening at the edges of her vision she watches him take two giant steps forward as though he is trying to get to her.
Then, as if he has suddenly remembered who he is and who she is, he jerks to an abrupt stop.
"Merlin's saggy - Hermione, are you alright!"
"I think," She begins, her eyesight starting to blur and blacken at the edges, "You might want to notify future judges that Filch has muggle weapons and quite enjoys using them."
"I understand if you didn't manage to grab anything." Lee says, offering her a helping arm. "I'm sure the judges would be open to reviewing -"
Hermione doesn't take his offered arm, but instead lifts the hem of her jumper and a lumpy mess of fur and fangs drops to all fours on the mossy ground beneath them.
Mrs. Norris fixes her red eyes on the occupants in the small clearing. She blinks judgementally at all of them, yowls fiercely and leaps away into the trees, disappearing in the direction that Hermione had just come from.
And then, Hermione faints.