Squib Puppet
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a sequel to "A Squib's Proper Place"
Chapter Three: A Confrontation and A Cloister
"Tonight, you will bring the item to the Forbidden Forest, at
midnight," the smooth voice in my head was saying. "You will come
alone."
I had no strength to fight. I had to obey.
As I had done for the past three days, I moved mechanically
through my cleaning chores, my manner grim and surly. I stayed away from
other people as much as I could and barely took notice of anyone except
to snarl at them.
At least until the argument. It was impossible for me not to
notice that.
After their shared Potions class, their last class before dinner,
Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom and Callandra Moffitt had a
confrontation directly in front of the broom cupboard where I was trying
to put away my supplies.
The door was nearly closed, and none of the children knew that I
was there.
Their argument penetrated even the haze of my distress. I listened
helplessly, unable to summon the strength of will to go out there and
stop the dispute.
"Unbelievable... that we're expected to actually study with the
likes of you!" I heard Pansy Parkinson say venomously to Callandra
Moffitt.
"Gryffindor will accept *anyone* these days. What's next? Muggles?
At least Slytherin has standards!"
"On the other hand, I take back all the things that I said about
your family disowning you because of your little Squib-girl," Pansy
continued, almost sweetly, clearly addressing Neville now.
"Your family will probably be pleased that you found her! It was
actually clever of you, finding someone who would be impressed by even
*your* pitiful attempts at magic!"
"Neville's magic is NOT pitiful!" Callandra said, with
considerable heat.
"Only when compared with yours!" Pansy retorted.
"Compared with anyone's!" Callandra said, with confidence and
finality.
"You're an expert, I suppose?" Pansy said, disdainfully.
"Being able to feel the strength of someone's magic is one of the
things that Squibs do," Callandra replied.
"Callie's good at any number of other things, besides," Neville
added.
"Name one other thing that your little Squib can manage, that a
proper wizard couldn't do much better!" Pansy said, furiously.
"She can ride a hippogriff," Neville pointed out, mildly. "Unlike
some `proper' wizards I could mention, she knows enough to be polite
first!"
"Why, hullo, Malfoy," Neville added, a heartbeat later. "We were
just talking about you."
Though frustrated by my inability to intervene, I was still
pleased that Neville and Callandra were doing well in the verbal
wizard's duel. Hearing the name "Malfoy" sent a tremor of fear through
me.
Terrified, I began rocking back and forth, hidden behind my supply
boxes.
Then I heard a shrill mewing outside in the corridor, where the
children were.
"Mrs. Norris?" Neville said. "Is something wrong?"
My cat was nudging the cupboard door until the opening was wide
enough to admit her. She came inside and began nuzzling against me
anxiously.
Holding her close, I reluctantly raised my eyes to the doorway.
All four children were watching me with varying degrees of concern and
consternation.
"Oh, lovely! He must have heard everything!" I heard Pansy mutter
grimly. "We're going to get detention!"
Neville and Callandra came into the cupboard, moving aside the
boxes.
I suppose that I must not have looked well.
"Come, Mr. Filch. Up you get," Neville said, very gently. "We're
taking you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will find out what's
wrong with you. She'll soon put you right again."
I shook my head, clutching Mrs. Norris against me. My grip must
have been uncomfortably tight, but my poor cat didn't protest.
Poppy couldn't help me. No one could help me. I wasn't allowed to
speak to anyone about what was wrong.
The voice had told me so.
Between them, Neville and Callandra got me to my feet.
Reluctantly, I let go of Mrs. Norris, though she stayed right at my side
as I stood.
Callandra and Neville wouldn't listen to my protests that I was
only tired.
"No, it's more than that," Callandra said. "You've been hurt. I
don't know why you can't feel it."
"The old man was a fool not to insist on having that girl as his
apprentice..." Draco was saying to Pansy. "Anyone can see the job's
become too much for the poor wretch."
My rush of anger at Draco was interrupted by a sudden, painfully
vivid flash of memory. I saw the pale boy surrounded by tall trees,
moving bravely to stand between an angry Dark Wizard and me.
I shivered.
Supporting me, Neville glared at Draco.
"Mr. Filch will be all right soon, and the job isn't too much for
him! You've got a very short memory, haven't you, Malfoy? You're
ungrateful. Mr. Filch can always do whatever needs to be done. Have you
forgotten how he pulled those vines off your arm?"
Malfoy locked eyes with Neville. "I know what I owe the old man. I
haven't ...forgotten."
Draco's voice trailed off.
He was glaring at Callandra, who had started looking back and
forth from Malfoy to me as soon as the boy and I were standing close
enough together.
"What *is* it Squib-girl?" Draco sneered.
Ignoring his tone, Callandra said, hesitantly, "Malfoy...? A-Are
you all right?"
"Oh, please!" Draco snapped. "Are you going to tell me that I've
been `hurt' too?"
I had another terrible flash of memory. Draco, white with fear,
crouching beside me shuddering, while I wept helpless tears of pain.
Callandra frowned. "No. At least not like poor Mr. Filch has been.
But there's still something... wrong."
Pansy eyed Callandra, looking both troubled and mistrustful.
"Ignore her, Draco. She's only trying to upset you!" The blonde
girl said. But her hand, which rested on Draco's shoulder, tightened in
fear and concern.
I felt afraid too, as I looked at Callandra.
Draco snorted. "Your highly touted Squib-senses must not be
working right, you silly girl. I'm fine. No one has done anything to
hurt me!"
His self-assured manner made Callandra falter.
But Draco's grey eyes were shadowed.
"Callandra's dangerous," I thought, and the anger behind the
thought did not seem to belong to me. "More dangerous than she knows."
Suddenly, weak with fear, I knew that I had to get as far away
from Callandra as I could. Could the voice in my head force me to harm
her?
Black-and-yellow appeared on the corridor wall near me, in answer
to my unspoken wish. I did not use my Door. Neville knew my secret.
Callandra, Draco and Pansy didn't.
"Let me go. Please. I-I need to lie down," I whispered, stepping
back, away from the children.
"There's no need to bother Madam Pomfrey now. If I don't feel a
little better by tomorrow morning, I will go to the hospital wing."
"I promise," I added, looking at Neville and Callandra's worried
faces.
Ignoring their protests, I moved off down the corridor as quickly
as I could, turning the corner out of sight. Mrs. Norris followed me.
*******
As soon as I found a deserted stretch of corridor, I summoned
black-and-yellow, and escaped to my rooms.
Six weeks ago, in a much happier time, Minerva had been my guest
here. The two of us had admired Mrs. Norris's newborn kittens and
talked. I remembered the touch of Minerva's hand, strong and warm in
mine.
How I wished that Minerva was beside me now! I wanted to go to her
and pour out my fears. Even if that meant she'd discover that I was a
coward. And even worse, a traitor.
I knew that I was about to do something terrible. I was not alone
in my mind, somehow... I felt helpless to stop myself.
"You will speak of this to no one." The smooth whispering voice
had filled my head until I could hear nothing else.
Alone, except for Mrs. Norris and the eight kittens, I stared at
the stoppered glass vial clutched tightly in my hand. It contained
several long silvery strands of the Headmaster's hair. I longed to throw
the vial away, or destroy what was in it. Instead, I slipped it
carefully back into my pocket.
More desolate and alone than I'd felt for many years, I broke down
and wept.
Black-and-yellow, which had not left my room since I had used it
to enter, suddenly shifted position to the wall nearest me, as if to
attract my attention.
Weeping, I got up and stumbled through the tapestry without any
clear destination in mind. The kittens followed me, scampering around my
feet like overactive dust-balls. Their mother, clearly worried about me,
padded softly at my heels.
All of us emerged into a chamber that I had not seen for decades.
I stared around me in wonder. In truth, I had forgotten that this
place existed.
Long ago, this sanctuary had been very familiar to me. The passing
years seemed to have left no changes inside this peaceful haven. Gentle
sunlight still filtered down from somewhere far above onto the waters of
a small splashing fountain.
Either the room was really open to the sky, or it was enchanted to
appear that way. The air smelled faintly of freshly blooming flowers.
This hidden workroom was an ideal place to rest, but this was not a
cloister that had been made by someone who could bear to sit idle.
An empty loom still stood, in the center of the room. Nearby was a
familiar spinning wheel. Examples of a talented weaver's crafting were
in evidence along the walls.
Beautiful tapestries were everywhere. Each one was a familiar, old
friend. All the scenes showed various wizarding folk and magical
creatures going about the day to day business of their lives. The one
nearest me showed a pair of courting dragons, and then the mated pair
and their nest, full of eggs.
Rugs, woven in colorful patterns, decorated the floor. The overall
effect was pleasant, busy and cozy. The place had a long-deserted feel
to it. Yet there was no dust anywhere.
Delighted by their new surroundings, with unfamiliar sights and
smells to investigate, the kittens scampered everywhere.
Semyon and Briar chased each other across the floor, and then
began playfully wrestling together. Bastet leaped lightly up onto the
fountain's edge to see if there were fish swimming in the water.
Beatrice, Paladin and Pellinore sniffed curiously, all around the loom,
while Juno batted inquisitively at the spinning wheel. Azoth, slinking
through the shadows like a miniature panther, found his way to an empty
basket near the distaff. He curled up inside, purring contentedly,
claiming it for his own.
Mrs. Norris kept a motherly watch on her kittens. But she followed
me to the fountain's edge. Still weeping silently, I sat on the cool
stone and rested my head in my hands. My cat jumped up beside me,
looking at me with worried, golden eyes.
"I'll be safe here, at least for a little while, my sweet," I told
her, wiping at my eyes. "I have always been safe here."
It was true. Maybe, within this chamber I could find the strength
to ignore the compelling voice, for a time.
*******
As Apollyon Pringle's young, scared apprentice, I had first found
this room, many years ago. I'd been sure that my life could not ever get
any worse. I had just spilled an entire bottle of undiluted Bundimun
secretion while attempting to mix some cleaning solution.
When he discovered what I'd done Pringle would be furious with me.
He already had little use for a clumsy, useless Squib. Now I had wasted
his valuable cleaning supplies! He'd beat me for sure. Maybe with the
cat o' nine tails he was always threatening me with, instead of just his
belt.
I'd fled. The nondescript tapestry I'd stumbled through hardly
registered. All I'd seen was the cool fountain, with water I could use
to get the sticky mess off my hands.
*******
This place had been my refuge many other times. Always when I felt
that I'd had taken more than I could bear. Hogwarts Castle could have
easily swallowed the entire village where I'd been born. Learning how to
find my way around, let alone how to keep this place clean had taken me
years.
The fountain chamber had always been a safe place for me to stop
and think and catch my breath, until I felt able to get back to my work
again, and face whatever I was hiding from.
But gradually, over the years, I had lost this room. Or perhaps I
had just stopped needing to find it.
Well, I needed this sanctuary now, more than ever. I was grateful
to have been brought here again after so many years. I finally knew
whose secret place this was.
"Sweet Lady..." I whispered, softly. "Greatest of the Hogwarts
Four. Though I suppose you would have likely dismissed that notion.
Glory does tend to get in the way of simply getting things done."
I sighed. "I was never one of your chosen, though I suppose I
might have been. Severus said so. I suppose that he must have been
right. I've always felt at home here. Thank you for being so kind to
me."
Miserably, I took the vial out of my pocket and studied it.
I would stay here as long as I could. Hopefully, I would figure
out what to do, before midnight came.
********
END OF CHAPTER THREE
Author's Notes:
ThePet: Thank you!!
Pendragon: Thank you!! Wow, TWO reviews!! Here's the next chapter!!
Callandra doesn't feel confident enough about her powers to go to
Dumbledore, especially since Filch (whom Callandra considers her
superior in the ways of Squib-magic) is vehemently denying that
anything's seriously wrong with him.
Unlike Filch, Callandra has never actually sensed the Cruciatus or the
Imperius on anyone before. She's not sure what she's sensing, she just
knows it's Dark and painful. (She can also sense the Obliviate spell
around both Filch and Draco, which confuses her.)
Ginny and Neville are both worried about Filch, but neither of them
suspect that he's under an Unforgivable Curse. They think that someone
might have "hexed" him. They're also worried about the lingering effects
of the Death Eater's attack on him in December, and the injuries he's
suffered since.
Harry is closest to figuring out what's really wrong, since he observed
Bartemius Crouch, Senior, suffering horribly from the Imperious Curse.
Though Filch's symptoms aren't nearly as severe as Crouch, Senior's
were.
Filch has been making it hard for anyone to help him. He's been hiding,
whenever possible. Knowing the Castle better than anyone makes it easy
for him to do this. He's also being generally grumpy and unpleasant.
Demeter: Thank you!! Yes, I think Obliviate is pretty unforgivable too.
And it's used so casually against Muggles, even by "good" wizards.
Draco knew what he was doing when he tried to stand between his father
and Filch. He feels that he owes Filch a debt. Filch ripped the vines
off Draco's arm, back in "Squib Wizard." Then, shortly afterwards,
Lucius threw Filch down the Castle steps, which isn't wasn't exactly a
fair repayment, from Draco's point of view.
Blue Moon: Thank you!! *Does CPR again*
Gramarye: Thank you!! Suspense? Hmm. I'll think about it...
Lataradk: Thank you!! I tried to take a rest, but writing is too much
fun. (I'll probably take a rest after this story.)
The image of Draco standing between him and Lucius is one that haunts
Filch repeatedly. It echoes the very vivid memory of Sirius getting
between him and Voldemort. Harry echoed this memory yet again, when he
got between Snape and Filch.
Mrs. Norris is very concerned about her pet Squib. She doesn't think
that he ought to be allowed to wander about on his own.
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! More kittens in this chapter.
Andolyn: Thank you!! Lucius was protecting Draco. In case he's caught,
he doesn't want Draco to be implicated as well.
Melodie: Thank you!! I can't wait to get the tape!! (It doesn't go on
sale for two more days here (sob!))
Jelsemium: Thank you!! Yes, Harry does know that something's wrong, but
he's not quite sure enough to go to Dumbledore. He has, however, told
Sirius about what he saw.
Alchemine: Thank you!! Dumbledore hasn't noticed Filch's odd behavior,
because Filch has been trying to avoid him. Subliminally, he knows that
Dumbledore is in some sort of danger from him.
Rabbit: Thank you!! Ordinarily, the house elves would have cleaned up
the stray strands of hair before anyone could get their hands on them.
Filch just happened to get there before the elves cleaned the Great
Hall.
Those who have noticed Filch's odd behavior don't know that he's Cursed.
Harry has told Sirius, though.
Saint Fool: Thank you!!
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a sequel to "A Squib's Proper Place"
Chapter Three: A Confrontation and A Cloister
"Tonight, you will bring the item to the Forbidden Forest, at
midnight," the smooth voice in my head was saying. "You will come
alone."
I had no strength to fight. I had to obey.
As I had done for the past three days, I moved mechanically
through my cleaning chores, my manner grim and surly. I stayed away from
other people as much as I could and barely took notice of anyone except
to snarl at them.
At least until the argument. It was impossible for me not to
notice that.
After their shared Potions class, their last class before dinner,
Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom and Callandra Moffitt had a
confrontation directly in front of the broom cupboard where I was trying
to put away my supplies.
The door was nearly closed, and none of the children knew that I
was there.
Their argument penetrated even the haze of my distress. I listened
helplessly, unable to summon the strength of will to go out there and
stop the dispute.
"Unbelievable... that we're expected to actually study with the
likes of you!" I heard Pansy Parkinson say venomously to Callandra
Moffitt.
"Gryffindor will accept *anyone* these days. What's next? Muggles?
At least Slytherin has standards!"
"On the other hand, I take back all the things that I said about
your family disowning you because of your little Squib-girl," Pansy
continued, almost sweetly, clearly addressing Neville now.
"Your family will probably be pleased that you found her! It was
actually clever of you, finding someone who would be impressed by even
*your* pitiful attempts at magic!"
"Neville's magic is NOT pitiful!" Callandra said, with
considerable heat.
"Only when compared with yours!" Pansy retorted.
"Compared with anyone's!" Callandra said, with confidence and
finality.
"You're an expert, I suppose?" Pansy said, disdainfully.
"Being able to feel the strength of someone's magic is one of the
things that Squibs do," Callandra replied.
"Callie's good at any number of other things, besides," Neville
added.
"Name one other thing that your little Squib can manage, that a
proper wizard couldn't do much better!" Pansy said, furiously.
"She can ride a hippogriff," Neville pointed out, mildly. "Unlike
some `proper' wizards I could mention, she knows enough to be polite
first!"
"Why, hullo, Malfoy," Neville added, a heartbeat later. "We were
just talking about you."
Though frustrated by my inability to intervene, I was still
pleased that Neville and Callandra were doing well in the verbal
wizard's duel. Hearing the name "Malfoy" sent a tremor of fear through
me.
Terrified, I began rocking back and forth, hidden behind my supply
boxes.
Then I heard a shrill mewing outside in the corridor, where the
children were.
"Mrs. Norris?" Neville said. "Is something wrong?"
My cat was nudging the cupboard door until the opening was wide
enough to admit her. She came inside and began nuzzling against me
anxiously.
Holding her close, I reluctantly raised my eyes to the doorway.
All four children were watching me with varying degrees of concern and
consternation.
"Oh, lovely! He must have heard everything!" I heard Pansy mutter
grimly. "We're going to get detention!"
Neville and Callandra came into the cupboard, moving aside the
boxes.
I suppose that I must not have looked well.
"Come, Mr. Filch. Up you get," Neville said, very gently. "We're
taking you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will find out what's
wrong with you. She'll soon put you right again."
I shook my head, clutching Mrs. Norris against me. My grip must
have been uncomfortably tight, but my poor cat didn't protest.
Poppy couldn't help me. No one could help me. I wasn't allowed to
speak to anyone about what was wrong.
The voice had told me so.
Between them, Neville and Callandra got me to my feet.
Reluctantly, I let go of Mrs. Norris, though she stayed right at my side
as I stood.
Callandra and Neville wouldn't listen to my protests that I was
only tired.
"No, it's more than that," Callandra said. "You've been hurt. I
don't know why you can't feel it."
"The old man was a fool not to insist on having that girl as his
apprentice..." Draco was saying to Pansy. "Anyone can see the job's
become too much for the poor wretch."
My rush of anger at Draco was interrupted by a sudden, painfully
vivid flash of memory. I saw the pale boy surrounded by tall trees,
moving bravely to stand between an angry Dark Wizard and me.
I shivered.
Supporting me, Neville glared at Draco.
"Mr. Filch will be all right soon, and the job isn't too much for
him! You've got a very short memory, haven't you, Malfoy? You're
ungrateful. Mr. Filch can always do whatever needs to be done. Have you
forgotten how he pulled those vines off your arm?"
Malfoy locked eyes with Neville. "I know what I owe the old man. I
haven't ...forgotten."
Draco's voice trailed off.
He was glaring at Callandra, who had started looking back and
forth from Malfoy to me as soon as the boy and I were standing close
enough together.
"What *is* it Squib-girl?" Draco sneered.
Ignoring his tone, Callandra said, hesitantly, "Malfoy...? A-Are
you all right?"
"Oh, please!" Draco snapped. "Are you going to tell me that I've
been `hurt' too?"
I had another terrible flash of memory. Draco, white with fear,
crouching beside me shuddering, while I wept helpless tears of pain.
Callandra frowned. "No. At least not like poor Mr. Filch has been.
But there's still something... wrong."
Pansy eyed Callandra, looking both troubled and mistrustful.
"Ignore her, Draco. She's only trying to upset you!" The blonde
girl said. But her hand, which rested on Draco's shoulder, tightened in
fear and concern.
I felt afraid too, as I looked at Callandra.
Draco snorted. "Your highly touted Squib-senses must not be
working right, you silly girl. I'm fine. No one has done anything to
hurt me!"
His self-assured manner made Callandra falter.
But Draco's grey eyes were shadowed.
"Callandra's dangerous," I thought, and the anger behind the
thought did not seem to belong to me. "More dangerous than she knows."
Suddenly, weak with fear, I knew that I had to get as far away
from Callandra as I could. Could the voice in my head force me to harm
her?
Black-and-yellow appeared on the corridor wall near me, in answer
to my unspoken wish. I did not use my Door. Neville knew my secret.
Callandra, Draco and Pansy didn't.
"Let me go. Please. I-I need to lie down," I whispered, stepping
back, away from the children.
"There's no need to bother Madam Pomfrey now. If I don't feel a
little better by tomorrow morning, I will go to the hospital wing."
"I promise," I added, looking at Neville and Callandra's worried
faces.
Ignoring their protests, I moved off down the corridor as quickly
as I could, turning the corner out of sight. Mrs. Norris followed me.
*******
As soon as I found a deserted stretch of corridor, I summoned
black-and-yellow, and escaped to my rooms.
Six weeks ago, in a much happier time, Minerva had been my guest
here. The two of us had admired Mrs. Norris's newborn kittens and
talked. I remembered the touch of Minerva's hand, strong and warm in
mine.
How I wished that Minerva was beside me now! I wanted to go to her
and pour out my fears. Even if that meant she'd discover that I was a
coward. And even worse, a traitor.
I knew that I was about to do something terrible. I was not alone
in my mind, somehow... I felt helpless to stop myself.
"You will speak of this to no one." The smooth whispering voice
had filled my head until I could hear nothing else.
Alone, except for Mrs. Norris and the eight kittens, I stared at
the stoppered glass vial clutched tightly in my hand. It contained
several long silvery strands of the Headmaster's hair. I longed to throw
the vial away, or destroy what was in it. Instead, I slipped it
carefully back into my pocket.
More desolate and alone than I'd felt for many years, I broke down
and wept.
Black-and-yellow, which had not left my room since I had used it
to enter, suddenly shifted position to the wall nearest me, as if to
attract my attention.
Weeping, I got up and stumbled through the tapestry without any
clear destination in mind. The kittens followed me, scampering around my
feet like overactive dust-balls. Their mother, clearly worried about me,
padded softly at my heels.
All of us emerged into a chamber that I had not seen for decades.
I stared around me in wonder. In truth, I had forgotten that this
place existed.
Long ago, this sanctuary had been very familiar to me. The passing
years seemed to have left no changes inside this peaceful haven. Gentle
sunlight still filtered down from somewhere far above onto the waters of
a small splashing fountain.
Either the room was really open to the sky, or it was enchanted to
appear that way. The air smelled faintly of freshly blooming flowers.
This hidden workroom was an ideal place to rest, but this was not a
cloister that had been made by someone who could bear to sit idle.
An empty loom still stood, in the center of the room. Nearby was a
familiar spinning wheel. Examples of a talented weaver's crafting were
in evidence along the walls.
Beautiful tapestries were everywhere. Each one was a familiar, old
friend. All the scenes showed various wizarding folk and magical
creatures going about the day to day business of their lives. The one
nearest me showed a pair of courting dragons, and then the mated pair
and their nest, full of eggs.
Rugs, woven in colorful patterns, decorated the floor. The overall
effect was pleasant, busy and cozy. The place had a long-deserted feel
to it. Yet there was no dust anywhere.
Delighted by their new surroundings, with unfamiliar sights and
smells to investigate, the kittens scampered everywhere.
Semyon and Briar chased each other across the floor, and then
began playfully wrestling together. Bastet leaped lightly up onto the
fountain's edge to see if there were fish swimming in the water.
Beatrice, Paladin and Pellinore sniffed curiously, all around the loom,
while Juno batted inquisitively at the spinning wheel. Azoth, slinking
through the shadows like a miniature panther, found his way to an empty
basket near the distaff. He curled up inside, purring contentedly,
claiming it for his own.
Mrs. Norris kept a motherly watch on her kittens. But she followed
me to the fountain's edge. Still weeping silently, I sat on the cool
stone and rested my head in my hands. My cat jumped up beside me,
looking at me with worried, golden eyes.
"I'll be safe here, at least for a little while, my sweet," I told
her, wiping at my eyes. "I have always been safe here."
It was true. Maybe, within this chamber I could find the strength
to ignore the compelling voice, for a time.
*******
As Apollyon Pringle's young, scared apprentice, I had first found
this room, many years ago. I'd been sure that my life could not ever get
any worse. I had just spilled an entire bottle of undiluted Bundimun
secretion while attempting to mix some cleaning solution.
When he discovered what I'd done Pringle would be furious with me.
He already had little use for a clumsy, useless Squib. Now I had wasted
his valuable cleaning supplies! He'd beat me for sure. Maybe with the
cat o' nine tails he was always threatening me with, instead of just his
belt.
I'd fled. The nondescript tapestry I'd stumbled through hardly
registered. All I'd seen was the cool fountain, with water I could use
to get the sticky mess off my hands.
*******
This place had been my refuge many other times. Always when I felt
that I'd had taken more than I could bear. Hogwarts Castle could have
easily swallowed the entire village where I'd been born. Learning how to
find my way around, let alone how to keep this place clean had taken me
years.
The fountain chamber had always been a safe place for me to stop
and think and catch my breath, until I felt able to get back to my work
again, and face whatever I was hiding from.
But gradually, over the years, I had lost this room. Or perhaps I
had just stopped needing to find it.
Well, I needed this sanctuary now, more than ever. I was grateful
to have been brought here again after so many years. I finally knew
whose secret place this was.
"Sweet Lady..." I whispered, softly. "Greatest of the Hogwarts
Four. Though I suppose you would have likely dismissed that notion.
Glory does tend to get in the way of simply getting things done."
I sighed. "I was never one of your chosen, though I suppose I
might have been. Severus said so. I suppose that he must have been
right. I've always felt at home here. Thank you for being so kind to
me."
Miserably, I took the vial out of my pocket and studied it.
I would stay here as long as I could. Hopefully, I would figure
out what to do, before midnight came.
********
END OF CHAPTER THREE
Author's Notes:
ThePet: Thank you!!
Pendragon: Thank you!! Wow, TWO reviews!! Here's the next chapter!!
Callandra doesn't feel confident enough about her powers to go to
Dumbledore, especially since Filch (whom Callandra considers her
superior in the ways of Squib-magic) is vehemently denying that
anything's seriously wrong with him.
Unlike Filch, Callandra has never actually sensed the Cruciatus or the
Imperius on anyone before. She's not sure what she's sensing, she just
knows it's Dark and painful. (She can also sense the Obliviate spell
around both Filch and Draco, which confuses her.)
Ginny and Neville are both worried about Filch, but neither of them
suspect that he's under an Unforgivable Curse. They think that someone
might have "hexed" him. They're also worried about the lingering effects
of the Death Eater's attack on him in December, and the injuries he's
suffered since.
Harry is closest to figuring out what's really wrong, since he observed
Bartemius Crouch, Senior, suffering horribly from the Imperious Curse.
Though Filch's symptoms aren't nearly as severe as Crouch, Senior's
were.
Filch has been making it hard for anyone to help him. He's been hiding,
whenever possible. Knowing the Castle better than anyone makes it easy
for him to do this. He's also being generally grumpy and unpleasant.
Demeter: Thank you!! Yes, I think Obliviate is pretty unforgivable too.
And it's used so casually against Muggles, even by "good" wizards.
Draco knew what he was doing when he tried to stand between his father
and Filch. He feels that he owes Filch a debt. Filch ripped the vines
off Draco's arm, back in "Squib Wizard." Then, shortly afterwards,
Lucius threw Filch down the Castle steps, which isn't wasn't exactly a
fair repayment, from Draco's point of view.
Blue Moon: Thank you!! *Does CPR again*
Gramarye: Thank you!! Suspense? Hmm. I'll think about it...
Lataradk: Thank you!! I tried to take a rest, but writing is too much
fun. (I'll probably take a rest after this story.)
The image of Draco standing between him and Lucius is one that haunts
Filch repeatedly. It echoes the very vivid memory of Sirius getting
between him and Voldemort. Harry echoed this memory yet again, when he
got between Snape and Filch.
Mrs. Norris is very concerned about her pet Squib. She doesn't think
that he ought to be allowed to wander about on his own.
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! More kittens in this chapter.
Andolyn: Thank you!! Lucius was protecting Draco. In case he's caught,
he doesn't want Draco to be implicated as well.
Melodie: Thank you!! I can't wait to get the tape!! (It doesn't go on
sale for two more days here (sob!))
Jelsemium: Thank you!! Yes, Harry does know that something's wrong, but
he's not quite sure enough to go to Dumbledore. He has, however, told
Sirius about what he saw.
Alchemine: Thank you!! Dumbledore hasn't noticed Filch's odd behavior,
because Filch has been trying to avoid him. Subliminally, he knows that
Dumbledore is in some sort of danger from him.
Rabbit: Thank you!! Ordinarily, the house elves would have cleaned up
the stray strands of hair before anyone could get their hands on them.
Filch just happened to get there before the elves cleaned the Great
Hall.
Those who have noticed Filch's odd behavior don't know that he's Cursed.
Harry has told Sirius, though.
Saint Fool: Thank you!!
