Squib Apprentice
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a story about Filch's early days at Hogwarts
Chapter Four: Mosag
Everything in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling
"Hagrid, You OAF!" I said, indignantly, from the kitchen floor.
"Why'd you do that for?"
"It was just a little nudge, yeh git. Didn' mean ter knock yeh
clean off yer chair. I jus' wanted ter wake yeh. Yeh were fallin' asleep
with yer head in yer breakfast. Again."
"No, I wasn't!" I retorted, grumpily. "I was only resting my
eyes."
Picking myself up, I got back in my chair, trying to stay awake
enough to eat my porridge.
"Restin' yer eyes. Tell me another." Hagrid snorted.
I was too busy yawning to reply.
Today was a Delivery day. Hagrid and I had to be up at dawn with
the house-elves. Helping the little creatures put away the Castle's
kitchen supplies was one of our regular jobs.
"Filch," the huge boy said, his tone a bit uncomfortable now. "Yeh
really look terrible. Yeh're not sleepin' much, are yeh?"
"None of your business..." I mumbled, around a mouthful of
porridge.
"S'not good fer yeh, stayin' up an' working most a' the night.
Doesn't Old Pringle..."
"That's `Mr.' Pringle to you!"
Hagrid scowled. "Mr. Pringle then. Doesn't he want yeh in yer bed
at night?"
"That's where he wants the *students* to be," I snapped. "I'm
staff!"
For a moment, Hagrid looked as if he wanted to knock me off my
chair again. Intentionally, this time. Then, his expression gradually
changed to one of sympathy.
"Filch," he said, his young voice gruff, "it's been over a week
since it happened. They've forgotten all about it by now. The students,
I mean. Yeh don' have ter keep doing most a' yer work at night, just ter
avoid seeing 'em. It wasn't all the students who laughed at yeh, anyhow.
It was jus' a few."
I stared into my bowl, feeling the blood rush to my face.
"It was nine days ago," I muttered. "And the story's all over the
Castle and no-one's forgotten. You certainly haven't."
The quiver in my voice shamed me. I wanted to be angry, but even
after nine days, humiliation was all I could feel.
*******
I'd been sweeping the floor along the Charms corridor. Students
had been hurrying by, or lining up for their classes. I'd been doing my
work and minding my own business.
There had been a sudden surge of magic. A young voice had spoken a
spell.
"Tarantallegra!"
The spell had been aimed at me, but I didn't realize it. Not until
it was too late. My legs had begun moving of their own accord. I was
suddenly dancing down the corridor, twirling my broom on my arm as if it
was a pretty witch-lass.
There had no way to break the spell, no way to defend myself. I
was a helpless puppet, a jigging ape, clowning for the students'
amusement.
There'd been a roar of noise all around me. Shrieks of laughter. A
confused impression of a sea of grinning faces and black robes.
I wanted to strike out at the laughing faces, but all I could do
was dance and dance and dance.
"Finite Incantem!"
Another rush of magic. Another confused impression. My rescuer. A
tall girl with long black hair, tied back with a tartan ribbon.
She had the face of an angel. I saw pity in her grey eyes when she
looked at me.
When she released me from the spell that had forced me to dance, I
fled, awkwardly stumbling over my own feet in my haste to get away.
My work, my dustpan, my broom were abandoned. The laughing
students and my rescuer were left behind.
The shame stayed with me. I carried it still.
*******
Ordinarily, leaving my work undone would have earned me a beating.
For the first time I felt no fear at the prospect. I was too numb to
feel anything.
Pringle found me in one of the broom cupboards. (Later, I wondered
if he'd searched every broom cupboard in the Castle for me.)
I was putting away supplies, working as slowly and clumsily as a
zombie. The caretaker didn't beat me or even scold me. He simply picked
up the things I'd dropped. He helped me turn the bottles and jars around
so that their labels faced outwards. Together, we arranged the shelves
neatly, everything in its proper place.
When we'd finished with the supplies, Pringle helped me to break
up the crates that were too battered to be used again. They'd be burned
later, on the rubbish-heap.
My body moved mechanically. I didn't have to think at all.
Later, when I asked Mr. Pringle if I could possibly sweep and dust
the corridors at night after the students were in bed, he told me that I
could.
*******
"Filch," Hagrid said, even more gruffly than before. "You know
there's things that's worse than bein' laughed at."
"Yes, I suppose there are," I mumbled, staring into my porridge
bowl. It was still mostly full. I was very tired and not especially
hungry.
"What happened ter yeh... well, it's the sort o' thing that we...
I-I m-mean the students, do ter each other all the time. Fer a joke,"
Hagrid said, earnestly. "Sometimes, even the ones who've had the spell
put on 'em... they laugh too."
Lifting my head, I gave him a look filled with misery.
"Surely, yeh must've been laughed at before..."
"Of course I have. It doesn't get any easier with practice."
"Look, Filch, yeh've got ter show yer face again sometime," Hagrid
said. "Yeh can't go on like this. Barely sleeping and doing yer work at
night when no-one can see yeh! Yeh've still got work ter do in the
morning, and yeh have ter be awake ter do it!"
"The house-elves manage to work both day and night easily enough,"
I yawned.
"Yer not a house-elf! They don' need ter sleep as much."
I wanted to tell the young oaf to mind his own business. But I was
too busy putting my head down on the table.
*******
I must have dozed off. Hagrid and the elves had let me sleep. I
woke to the sounds of squeaky elf-voices, and many heavy boxes and
bundles being moved.
"Lally! You is not ordering cinnamon AGAIN! Where is we going to
put all these new bags? We is having no more room!"
"If silly-headed Gillyflower is bothering to look at this weeks'
menu she will plainly see cinnamon rolls on Wednesday, and cinnamon cake
on Sunday morning!"
"Here is pickles. We is not needing any more pickles! Where is the
onions? Why is they not ever bringing our onions?"
"Where is tea leaves? Hurry, we is needing them right away for
Professors' breakfast..."
"Someone is needing to fetch the cheeses..."
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes, then I rose and staggered into the
noisy kitchen to help.
*******
The house elves were busy with breakfast preparations. The
Castle's kitchen was filled with noise and bustle. But the big storeroom
beneath the kitchen was dim, peaceful and quiet.
Now that everything was put away, I'd given in to the temptation
to rest my eyes again, just for a few moments. A sack of dried beans
made a comfortable pillow.
I was half-dozing, when I heard Hagrid's voice nearby.
"Yeh alrigh' there, Mosag? I brought yeh some cheese, an' a piece
of chicken..."
A voice answered Hagrid. A strange, clicking voice. I couldn't
understand what it said. But, the huge boy seemed to understand well
enough, because he answered in a comforting tone.
"I'm sure Aragog is jus' fine. Safe an' snug in his hollow. The
snow's still too deep yet fer me ter take yeh ter him. In a day or two,
maybe. He'll be so glad ter see yeh. He's bin lonely..."
The strange, clicking voice said something else. It seemed a bit
worried.
"Well, o'course he'll like yeh. Yer jus' like him, 'cept yer
prettier! Now, yeh've got ter get yerself back ter the cupboard.
Nobody'll hear us over poor old Filch's snoring, but it's better ter be
safe than sorry..."
"Hagrid?" I called, woozily. "Who in Merlin's name are you talking
to?"
Silence.
"Hagrid...?"
Groggily, I lifted my head off the sack of beans.
Hagrid stumbled into view, dark eyes wide and startled.
"I wasn't talking ter no-one."
"Yes, you were. I heard you."
"Yeh were dreaming, Filch," the boy said, gruffly. "Who could I be
talking ter? No one's down here but us."
To Be Continued.
Author's Notes:
Snapefan51: Thank you!! And thank you for reviewing my older stories
too!!
Saphron: Thank you!! Hagrid and Filch get along, but they seem to have a
rather prickly sort of relationship. Hagrid was annoyed at Filch for
telling on him, but he did get over it.
Jelsemium: Thank you, pardner!! Tom Riddle is going to show up next
chapter. Being rather fuzzy with math, I'm being vague about Hagrid's
exact age and what years Tom and Minerva are in.
Yes, Argus is lucky that he arrived after the Chamber of Secrets affair.
He would have been vulnerable. (I contradicted myself here, since I've
already had Myrtle mention that Argus was at Hogwarts when she was
alive. I'm going to have to go back and fix that line in "Squib
Caretaker.")
Your comment on what four legged werewolves do during a full moon made
me laugh! I needed a "friendly-Hagrid-thought-this-up" name for a
werewolf, and the answer was sitting right in front me!
I'd like to have Filch meet Dumbledore in some embarrassing way too.
Poor Filch is already afraid of him.
E: Thank you!! I have some ideas on how Filch and Mrs. Norris met, but
none have turned into a complete story as of yet.
Alchemine: Thank you!! And thank you for the loan of Madam Valerian!!
She'll be showing up next chapter.
Pringle is quite incapable of seeing any similarities between his
reputation and Hagrid's. Pringle sees himself as a punisher of wrong-
doers, not as a wrong-doer himself.
Filch will encounter Tom in the next chapter.
You're absolutely right about what Dumbledore said to Hagrid. Albus told
the boy that he was disappointed in him. The reprimand hit poor Hagrid
like a rain of stones.
Filch saw Hagrid's tears and assumed the worst. He can't imagine what
dreadful thing the Professor must have done to make someone as big and
strong as Hagrid cry all night. (Filch doesn't know yet what a soft
heart Hagrid has.)
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Dumbledore was very grave and serious when
he spoke to Hagrid. He talked about the safety of the other people at
the school, and reminded Hagrid that many people were still frightened
over the Chamber.
When Dumbledore mentioned that, if Bob-the-werewolf had been caught by
anyone else out of the Forest, then Ogg would have been forced to hunt
Bob down with silver, Hagrid was heart-broken. When Dumbledore finished
up by saying that he was disappointed in Hagrid, the poor boy felt lower
than dirt.
aniwda: thank you!!
Spark-Chick: Thank you!!
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a story about Filch's early days at Hogwarts
Chapter Four: Mosag
Everything in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling
"Hagrid, You OAF!" I said, indignantly, from the kitchen floor.
"Why'd you do that for?"
"It was just a little nudge, yeh git. Didn' mean ter knock yeh
clean off yer chair. I jus' wanted ter wake yeh. Yeh were fallin' asleep
with yer head in yer breakfast. Again."
"No, I wasn't!" I retorted, grumpily. "I was only resting my
eyes."
Picking myself up, I got back in my chair, trying to stay awake
enough to eat my porridge.
"Restin' yer eyes. Tell me another." Hagrid snorted.
I was too busy yawning to reply.
Today was a Delivery day. Hagrid and I had to be up at dawn with
the house-elves. Helping the little creatures put away the Castle's
kitchen supplies was one of our regular jobs.
"Filch," the huge boy said, his tone a bit uncomfortable now. "Yeh
really look terrible. Yeh're not sleepin' much, are yeh?"
"None of your business..." I mumbled, around a mouthful of
porridge.
"S'not good fer yeh, stayin' up an' working most a' the night.
Doesn't Old Pringle..."
"That's `Mr.' Pringle to you!"
Hagrid scowled. "Mr. Pringle then. Doesn't he want yeh in yer bed
at night?"
"That's where he wants the *students* to be," I snapped. "I'm
staff!"
For a moment, Hagrid looked as if he wanted to knock me off my
chair again. Intentionally, this time. Then, his expression gradually
changed to one of sympathy.
"Filch," he said, his young voice gruff, "it's been over a week
since it happened. They've forgotten all about it by now. The students,
I mean. Yeh don' have ter keep doing most a' yer work at night, just ter
avoid seeing 'em. It wasn't all the students who laughed at yeh, anyhow.
It was jus' a few."
I stared into my bowl, feeling the blood rush to my face.
"It was nine days ago," I muttered. "And the story's all over the
Castle and no-one's forgotten. You certainly haven't."
The quiver in my voice shamed me. I wanted to be angry, but even
after nine days, humiliation was all I could feel.
*******
I'd been sweeping the floor along the Charms corridor. Students
had been hurrying by, or lining up for their classes. I'd been doing my
work and minding my own business.
There had been a sudden surge of magic. A young voice had spoken a
spell.
"Tarantallegra!"
The spell had been aimed at me, but I didn't realize it. Not until
it was too late. My legs had begun moving of their own accord. I was
suddenly dancing down the corridor, twirling my broom on my arm as if it
was a pretty witch-lass.
There had no way to break the spell, no way to defend myself. I
was a helpless puppet, a jigging ape, clowning for the students'
amusement.
There'd been a roar of noise all around me. Shrieks of laughter. A
confused impression of a sea of grinning faces and black robes.
I wanted to strike out at the laughing faces, but all I could do
was dance and dance and dance.
"Finite Incantem!"
Another rush of magic. Another confused impression. My rescuer. A
tall girl with long black hair, tied back with a tartan ribbon.
She had the face of an angel. I saw pity in her grey eyes when she
looked at me.
When she released me from the spell that had forced me to dance, I
fled, awkwardly stumbling over my own feet in my haste to get away.
My work, my dustpan, my broom were abandoned. The laughing
students and my rescuer were left behind.
The shame stayed with me. I carried it still.
*******
Ordinarily, leaving my work undone would have earned me a beating.
For the first time I felt no fear at the prospect. I was too numb to
feel anything.
Pringle found me in one of the broom cupboards. (Later, I wondered
if he'd searched every broom cupboard in the Castle for me.)
I was putting away supplies, working as slowly and clumsily as a
zombie. The caretaker didn't beat me or even scold me. He simply picked
up the things I'd dropped. He helped me turn the bottles and jars around
so that their labels faced outwards. Together, we arranged the shelves
neatly, everything in its proper place.
When we'd finished with the supplies, Pringle helped me to break
up the crates that were too battered to be used again. They'd be burned
later, on the rubbish-heap.
My body moved mechanically. I didn't have to think at all.
Later, when I asked Mr. Pringle if I could possibly sweep and dust
the corridors at night after the students were in bed, he told me that I
could.
*******
"Filch," Hagrid said, even more gruffly than before. "You know
there's things that's worse than bein' laughed at."
"Yes, I suppose there are," I mumbled, staring into my porridge
bowl. It was still mostly full. I was very tired and not especially
hungry.
"What happened ter yeh... well, it's the sort o' thing that we...
I-I m-mean the students, do ter each other all the time. Fer a joke,"
Hagrid said, earnestly. "Sometimes, even the ones who've had the spell
put on 'em... they laugh too."
Lifting my head, I gave him a look filled with misery.
"Surely, yeh must've been laughed at before..."
"Of course I have. It doesn't get any easier with practice."
"Look, Filch, yeh've got ter show yer face again sometime," Hagrid
said. "Yeh can't go on like this. Barely sleeping and doing yer work at
night when no-one can see yeh! Yeh've still got work ter do in the
morning, and yeh have ter be awake ter do it!"
"The house-elves manage to work both day and night easily enough,"
I yawned.
"Yer not a house-elf! They don' need ter sleep as much."
I wanted to tell the young oaf to mind his own business. But I was
too busy putting my head down on the table.
*******
I must have dozed off. Hagrid and the elves had let me sleep. I
woke to the sounds of squeaky elf-voices, and many heavy boxes and
bundles being moved.
"Lally! You is not ordering cinnamon AGAIN! Where is we going to
put all these new bags? We is having no more room!"
"If silly-headed Gillyflower is bothering to look at this weeks'
menu she will plainly see cinnamon rolls on Wednesday, and cinnamon cake
on Sunday morning!"
"Here is pickles. We is not needing any more pickles! Where is the
onions? Why is they not ever bringing our onions?"
"Where is tea leaves? Hurry, we is needing them right away for
Professors' breakfast..."
"Someone is needing to fetch the cheeses..."
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes, then I rose and staggered into the
noisy kitchen to help.
*******
The house elves were busy with breakfast preparations. The
Castle's kitchen was filled with noise and bustle. But the big storeroom
beneath the kitchen was dim, peaceful and quiet.
Now that everything was put away, I'd given in to the temptation
to rest my eyes again, just for a few moments. A sack of dried beans
made a comfortable pillow.
I was half-dozing, when I heard Hagrid's voice nearby.
"Yeh alrigh' there, Mosag? I brought yeh some cheese, an' a piece
of chicken..."
A voice answered Hagrid. A strange, clicking voice. I couldn't
understand what it said. But, the huge boy seemed to understand well
enough, because he answered in a comforting tone.
"I'm sure Aragog is jus' fine. Safe an' snug in his hollow. The
snow's still too deep yet fer me ter take yeh ter him. In a day or two,
maybe. He'll be so glad ter see yeh. He's bin lonely..."
The strange, clicking voice said something else. It seemed a bit
worried.
"Well, o'course he'll like yeh. Yer jus' like him, 'cept yer
prettier! Now, yeh've got ter get yerself back ter the cupboard.
Nobody'll hear us over poor old Filch's snoring, but it's better ter be
safe than sorry..."
"Hagrid?" I called, woozily. "Who in Merlin's name are you talking
to?"
Silence.
"Hagrid...?"
Groggily, I lifted my head off the sack of beans.
Hagrid stumbled into view, dark eyes wide and startled.
"I wasn't talking ter no-one."
"Yes, you were. I heard you."
"Yeh were dreaming, Filch," the boy said, gruffly. "Who could I be
talking ter? No one's down here but us."
To Be Continued.
Author's Notes:
Snapefan51: Thank you!! And thank you for reviewing my older stories
too!!
Saphron: Thank you!! Hagrid and Filch get along, but they seem to have a
rather prickly sort of relationship. Hagrid was annoyed at Filch for
telling on him, but he did get over it.
Jelsemium: Thank you, pardner!! Tom Riddle is going to show up next
chapter. Being rather fuzzy with math, I'm being vague about Hagrid's
exact age and what years Tom and Minerva are in.
Yes, Argus is lucky that he arrived after the Chamber of Secrets affair.
He would have been vulnerable. (I contradicted myself here, since I've
already had Myrtle mention that Argus was at Hogwarts when she was
alive. I'm going to have to go back and fix that line in "Squib
Caretaker.")
Your comment on what four legged werewolves do during a full moon made
me laugh! I needed a "friendly-Hagrid-thought-this-up" name for a
werewolf, and the answer was sitting right in front me!
I'd like to have Filch meet Dumbledore in some embarrassing way too.
Poor Filch is already afraid of him.
E: Thank you!! I have some ideas on how Filch and Mrs. Norris met, but
none have turned into a complete story as of yet.
Alchemine: Thank you!! And thank you for the loan of Madam Valerian!!
She'll be showing up next chapter.
Pringle is quite incapable of seeing any similarities between his
reputation and Hagrid's. Pringle sees himself as a punisher of wrong-
doers, not as a wrong-doer himself.
Filch will encounter Tom in the next chapter.
You're absolutely right about what Dumbledore said to Hagrid. Albus told
the boy that he was disappointed in him. The reprimand hit poor Hagrid
like a rain of stones.
Filch saw Hagrid's tears and assumed the worst. He can't imagine what
dreadful thing the Professor must have done to make someone as big and
strong as Hagrid cry all night. (Filch doesn't know yet what a soft
heart Hagrid has.)
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Dumbledore was very grave and serious when
he spoke to Hagrid. He talked about the safety of the other people at
the school, and reminded Hagrid that many people were still frightened
over the Chamber.
When Dumbledore mentioned that, if Bob-the-werewolf had been caught by
anyone else out of the Forest, then Ogg would have been forced to hunt
Bob down with silver, Hagrid was heart-broken. When Dumbledore finished
up by saying that he was disappointed in Hagrid, the poor boy felt lower
than dirt.
aniwda: thank you!!
Spark-Chick: Thank you!!