Squib Apprentice
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a story about Filch's early days at Hogwarts
Chapter Five: A Riddle in the Dark
(Apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien)
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling,
except for Madam Valerian,
who has Alchemine's permission to come over and play.
"Hagrid's right," I thought. "I can't go on like this."
Nine days ago I'd been glad to get Mr. Pringle's permission to
dust and sweep the Castle corridors at night. Not having to face the
students was a relief. Unfortunately, working most of the night and then
getting up early in the morning to go to work again was taking a toll on
me.
It was the middle of the afternoon. I was resting on the floor in
front of the kitchen fireplace. I couldn't remember walking over to the
hearth. The last thing I remembered clearly was sitting down for lunch.
Around me, house-elves murmured in concern.
"Poor boy. He is needing to rest."
"If Apollyon Pringle is finding Argus Filch sleeping, then boy
will be punished!"
"Argus Filch must be hidden!"
There was a rustle of movement. I felt many small hands busily
piling things on top of me. Was that a blanket? No, more likely it was a
tablecloth. The tablecloth was swiftly followed by a heap of warm, soft
dish towels. When I was completely covered up, a small hand gave my
concealed head a gentle pat.
*******
Sleeping in front of the fire, I dreamed.
The Castle corridor was empty, except for the tall, black-haired
girl and me. She looked at me and smiled. I held out my hand to her, and
she took it. Her smile was the only magic I needed to make me want to
dance.
A foolish dream, but a very sweet one, nonetheless.
Abruptly, I was awakened by new voices in the kitchen. They were
too deep to belong to house-elves. Wizards...
I could feel them as well as hear them. Their magic overwhelmed
me, bone-weary as I was. The elder of the two was very old indeed. Age,
time and many cares had dimmed his strength. Now his power was like a
bed of smouldering embers.
In contrast, the other wizard's magic was a white-hot, roaring
furnace.
House elves greeted the pair in squeaky voices. "Good afternoon,
Headmaster Dippet, sir! Master was not at lunch! He is wanting tea?"
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore! Sir is missing lunch too! Is sir
hungry? Is sir wanting some hot chocolate?"
Merlin's Teeth... the Headmaster himself! And the formidable
Transfiguration Professor who had reduced poor Hagrid to tears...!
From the sound of things, they were seated at the table where
Hagrid and I usually took our meals.
I heard the house-elves fetching them tea, hot chocolate and
something to eat. Then the little creatures went about their business,
washing up from the students' lunch. The Professors were left alone to
talk.
If I'd had even the smallest amount of magical talent I would have
used it then, to avoid eavesdropping. Spying on the private
conversations of my betters... well, I knew Mr. Pringle would never
approve. If the old caretaker ever found out about this, he would have
the skin off my back.
The Professors scared me even more than Mr. Pringle. If they
discovered me, I might find myself wishing for the caretaker's relative
mercy. I tried to keep very still under my nest of tablecloth-and-
dishtowels.
Headmaster Dippet had just mentioned Hagrid's name.
"...behaving himself," the old wizard said. "No more trouble since
that last incident? What was it ... a werewolf? Albus, I do understand
that, in spite of everything, he means no harm. But the safety of the
students must always be our first concern."
"I agree, Headmaster. Hagrid feels the same as we do. Young as he
is, he would willingly place himself in harm's way to protect any of the
students, or any of the staff. When I explained the danger to all
concerned, Hagrid was considerably chastened."
Dippet sighed. "Albus," he said, in a quavering voice, "I am
troubled by the notion that the boy needed an explanation in order to
understand that a werewolf is dangerous."
"Hagrid is so much at home in the Forest," Dumbledore said,
quietly. "Realizing that the same is not true of everyone is difficult
for him. His affinity for the wild creatures and places of this world is
a gift. As with any gift, it may take years for him to study and master
it."
"A gift, Albus? Perhaps so, but I fear that it is a Dark one. Oh,
my dear boy, please don't look at me like that. I haven't said that the
child himself is Dark. But, surely, you must admit..."
"Headmaster, you know I have never believed that Hagrid, or any
creature of his, was truly responsible for what happened."
Both wizards were keeping their magic and their emotions carefully
in check. They might disagree, but there was clearly friendship and
respect between them.
Even so, the strength of their feelings was making their powers
flare and surge. Aged and diminished as he was, the Headmaster's power
was still enough to make me flinch. And the incandescence of the
Transfiguration Master's magic was painful. A soft whimper escaped me.
The Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore continued speaking, and I prayed
that neither one of them had heard.
"Albus, you must continue to impress upon Hagrid the profound
importance of keeping the Forest's creatures IN the Forest." Headmaster
Dippet was saying.
"Yes, of course I will, sir." Professor Dumbledore replied.
"I know that you're very fond of the boy. But, he's running out of
chances."
*******
For a time after the wizards had left the kitchen, I remained
hidden, too filled with guilt and misery to move.
What had I *done?* I should have kept my mouth shut. Why couldn't
they just beat Hagrid or lock him up in chains? Those punishments would
have been reasonable. But, the Headmaster sounded ready to have Hagrid
dismissed...
The boy had no family. Mr. Ogg had said that Professor Dumbledore
was the closest thing that Hagrid had to a guardian. If Hagrid was
banished from the Castle, would he lose Dumbledore too?
To be cast out, alone, to starve in the snow...! Poor child. He
didn't deserve that.
Exhausted and distressed, my work that afternoon was slipshod at
best. Impatiently, Mr. Pringle boxed my ears. I hardly felt a thing.
Even now, Hagrid had a creature concealed in a cupboard in the
storeroom beneath the kitchen. He'd denied it of course. Still, I knew
what I'd heard.
There was really only one thing I could think of to do.
*******
That night, instead of attending to my dusting and sweeping, I
crept down to the kitchen storeroom. The torch I carried made the
shadows of all the boxes and bags seem threatening.
"H-Hello...?" I called out, my voice shaking. "I know you're in
here! `Mosag,' he called you. If anyone finds out that he's keeping you,
he'll be sent away! You have to leave..."
Silence was my only answer. Nervously, I went deeper into the
storeroom.
"Mosag?" I called. "Answer me!"
Suddenly, a black shadow rose from the floor, directly in front of
me. It was huge, monstrous!
Yelling with fright, my heart beating like a snidget's wings, I
backpedaled frantically. Tripping over a crate of tins, I sat down hard.
A huge hand caught my torch before it could set anything on fire.
"Filch! Shut up, yeh git! D'yeh want ter wake up the whole
Castle?"
"H-Hagrid?"
"Couldn' leave well enough alone, could yeh? I honestly didn'
think yeh'd have the courage ter come snooping down here, but I figured
it was better ter be safe than sorry!"
"Hagrid, you're supposed to be asleep, not lurking in here!" I
hissed.
"An' yer supposed ter be working upstairs, not sneaking abou'!"
Hagrid retorted.
When the boy spoke again, his tone had turned plaintive. "Mosag
never hurt no one, Filch. All she wants is a home an' a family. In a day
or so, when the snow melts a bit more, I'll take her out ter the
Forest!"
"No, you've got to take her outside now! I-I heard them talking...
the Headmaster and your Professor Dumbledore. The Professor defended
you, but Headmaster Dippet told him that you're running out of chances.
If anyone finds out what you're doing...!"
"Are yeh going ter tell on me, Filch? Again?" Hagrid tried to
growl at me but he sounded more scared than angry.
"It'd serve you right if I did! But, no. I'm not going to tell, I
promise. As long as you take that thing out to the Forest, tonight,
right now!"
We stared at each other for a very long moment.
Then Hagrid sighed. "Done," he said, handing back my torch. "Help
me. I need yeh ter find a big empty box, or a nice big sack ter carry
her in."
There was a large box that was mostly empty of food tins on a
lower shelf. Stacking the tins on a nearby wooden pallet, I dragged the
box over to Hagrid.
The boy was crouching in front of a cupboard at the very back of
the storeroom. He was speaking soft, coaxing words.
"C'mon, Mosag. It'll be alrigh.' I won' let anyone hurt yeh. An' I
promise I won' leave yeh, not til yer safe with Aragog..."
I heard a rustling movement. And the same strange clicking sounds
I'd heard this morning.
Curiously I moved my torch closer to Hagrid, meaning to get just a
glimpse of Mosag. A glimpse was all I got. But it was more than enough.
The creature had a large, round, hairy body. And many eyes
gleaming. And legs! Lots and lots of long, hairy legs....
I screamed until I ran out of breath. Then I took a great gulp of
air and screamed some more.
Hagrid put his huge hand over my mouth to shut me up. I sunk my
teeth deep into his thumb.
"YEEE-OW!" Hagrid bellowed. "Filch, yeh stupid GIT!!! NO, MOSAG,
I'm alrigh'... DON' HURT HIM!!!"
It seemed that Hagrid's creature was as protective of the boy as
he was of her. Her razor-sharp pincers gleaming, the beast leaped at me.
Still wailing, I swung my torch at her. Mosag leaped over me, her
pincers slashing at the arm I'd flung up to protect my head.
Clicking and wailing almost as loudly as I was, Mosag scuttled
rapidly towards the storeroom door.
"Git!" Hagrid snapped at me, clutching his bleeding thumb. After
stomping out the torch that I'd dropped on the floor, he hurried after
his monster.
*******
Hardly aware of what I was doing or where I meant to go, I
stumbled through the Castle corridors. It was very late. I should have
been in bed hours ago. I still had work to do. Dusting and sweeping. Let
Hagrid worry about his awful monster. As long as the creature was safely
out of the Castle, the poor stupid oaf wouldn't be sent away...
Where was my dustmop? My broom?
Shivering even though I was sweating, I leaned against a wall.
There was a soft whisper of magic, like a door opening. I tumbled
through the wall, to land on a soft rug.
Daylight. Sunshine and flowers. The room with the fountain, the
loom and the tapestries. I was always safe here. The monster couldn't
get me...
Oh, Merlin, I was going to be sick. Mustn't make a mess in this
tidy room. Hands pressed over my mouth, I leaned back against the wall
and fell through again.
Retching miserably, I curled up on the corridor floor. Damp. Cool.
The dungeons? How had I gotten here? Was I near the caretaker's office?
I thought maybe I was.
"Mr. Pringle... help me..." I gasped. My voice sounded very faint.
I sensed something then. A whisper of magic. As if another door
had opened.
Strong emotions accompanied the magic. Elation! Recognition!
Then the joy darkened. Anguish. Traveled Through, yes, but no
answering Recognition...
Lonely... so lonely...
Feverish, nearly delirious, I wept broken-hearted tears for
something that couldn't weep for itself.
I wasn't alone in the corridor now. A tall, black-haired boy had
nearly fallen over me. On the wall at his back was an extremely plain
tapestry.
"I know you," he said, quite dispassionately. The powerful
emotions all around us seemed to be leaving him completely untouched.
I sensed that he was overlooking something precious and important.
But the feeling was too difficult for me to put into words, weak and ill
as I was.
"You're Pringle's Squib," the boy said. "What's happened to you?"
Kneeling, he peered into my eyes and felt the pulse in my throat. His
nose wrinkled at the stench of vomit.
He lifted one of my arms, noting the tear in my sleeve, and the
gash left by Mosag's pincer.
"Poison, in a defensive wound," he murmured. "When fresh, the
secretion of an Acromantula has a scent, subtle, but quite distinctive.
My goodness. How many of those creatures does Hagrid have?"
"No..." I whimpered, frightened at how swiftly he'd figured out
the huge boy's involvement. It was hard for me to stay focused and
coherent, but I'd promised Hagrid that I wouldn't tell anyone.
Making promises was something that I rarely did, but I always tried my
best to keep the few promises I made...
"Not Hagrid... he didn't... he had nothing to do with..."
"Oh, no. Of course he didn't," the boy said, in a very dry tone.
Then he laughed softly. "Hagrid may not be nearly as subtle as the scent
of an Acromantula's poison, but his ...effects are certainly just as
distinctive."
"Please..." I whispered. "They'll send him away. And he has no
one..."
"How terribly sad. The world is full of orphans, you know." The
boy's voice was cold.
I curled into a ball as dry heaves shook me, too sick to go on
pleading with him.
"Foolish Squib. If you had any sense you would be less worried
about Hagrid and more worried about yourself," the boy said.
Then he sighed. "Another death in the castle would be most
inconvenient. The memories are still too fresh. And then there's the
fact that a certain sharp-eyed, suspicious individual would be bound to
notice that your symptoms are nothing like those of the first victim.
Perhaps you're right. Amusing as it would be to blacken Hagrid's name
further, it would be best to leave him out of this, entirely."
A surge of power from him made me cry out.
"Mobilicorpus."
Gently, I rose from the floor to float in front of him.
"Well, I shall try to look on the bright side. At least you've
given me another opportunity to play the hero."
*******
"Filch, I'm sorry. I didn' know..." Hagrid said, miserably. His
face was white. He looked very young and frightened. "I didn' know that
she'd scratched yeh. They secrete a poison when they're afraid. Yeh
scared her! She wouldn't have hurt yeh, if yeh hadn't yelled like yeh
did."
"I scared HER? She scared ME. I didn't want to yell. I couldn't
help it."
"I suppose yeh couldn't. Poor, silly git." The boy sighed and
looked at his bandaged thumb, ruefully.
"Hagrid, dear, hold still..." Madam Valerian said, gently. The
medi-witch was standing behind Hagrid, who was sitting, cross-legged on
the floor next to my bed.
The school nurse had helped the boy take off his shirt. Now she
was holding a bowl of water and a soft, clean cloth. She was carefully
bathing the welts on Hagrid's broad back.
"Hagrid... you told Mr. Pringle what you did... Why...? I lied to
him for you. I told him that I didn't know where the creature had come
from! You oaf. They'll send you away..."
Madam Valerian frowned. It was clear that she didn't approve of
Mr. Pringle's methods of discipline. "No one is being sent away," she
reassured us briskly. "Professor Dumbledore told the Headmaster that he
wouldn't hear of Hagrid being sent away, and Mr. Ogg spoke up in
Hagrid's defense and then Mr. Pringle said that he'd already punished
the boy quite severely, and it would be a shame to deprive Mr. Ogg of
his apprentice."
My eyes widened. "Hagrid? Mr. Pringle defended you?"
Hagrid sighed, wincing. "Well, he was in a good mood an' feeling
pleased with himself, I guess. Bin wanting ter teach me a lesson fer a
while, hasn't he? The old man finally got his chance."
I didn't mind at all when Pringle thrashed the students. And I
thought that Hagrid's punishment was well-deserved. Still, the thought
of Hagrid being beaten was unexpectedly troubling.
"It's alrigh' Filch," the boy said, gruffly, when he saw my
expression. "It doesn't hurt so much, really. Other things that happened
las' night bother me more. Of all the people in the castle that yeh
coulda' picked ter collapse in front of. I wish that yeh'd puked yer
guts all over him! Though he'd still have found some way ter come out
smelling like a rose..."
I frowned, thinking of the young wizard who'd found me and brought
me to the hospital wing. My recollections of the encounter were confused
and disjointed. I remembered wanting to tell him something important,
but the memory was gone.
Madam Valerian had finished tending Hagrid's back. Patting his
dark tangled curls in a motherly way, she stood up to put away the bowl
and the cloth.
When she went out of earshot, Hagrid leaned closer and whispered,
"Mosag is safe in the Forest, with Aragog and they're happy. Love at
firs' sight it was. An' that's what makes everything alrigh' s'far as
I'm concerned."
I shuddered. "Hagrid... the whole Forest will be full of those...
things."
"Yep. That's the point, isn't it? They wanted a family. No one
*wants* ter be lonely, Filch. No matter who, or what they are."
"They're monsters... not people," I mumbled, frowning again. I
knew that he was right. People weren't the only ones who could be
lonely...
Madam Valerian was giving Hagrid a pointed look. The boy picked up
his shirt and stood.
"At least yeh can have a proper rest now, Filch, instead of
nodding off into yer breakfast tomorrow," Hagrid said, comfortingly, and
left me alone to sleep.
End of Chapter Five
Author's Notes:
Unrepentent Reader: Thank you!!
Jelsemium: Thank you!! Hagrid's ability to feel strongly, and yet get
over things is one of the most admirable aspects of his personality. He
is a sweetie! Unlike poor Argus who has a very difficult time getting
over anything.
Yes, the infamous Olive Hornsby would still be at Hogwarts too, wouldn't
she? An intriguing thought...
Bob says "Hi!"
Re, the house-elves... yes, that scene was taken from my job. (Tomorrow
is another Delivery day. I can't wait to see what gets mixed up this
time...)
Andrea13: Thank you!! Yes, young Filch has little experience with good
natured teasing. He isn't even aware of the concept.
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Poor Mosag must have been as nervous as any
other mail-order bride. And Aragog was pretty nervous too. I can picture
the big spider scuttling nervously around his snowy Forest-hollow,
wondering what his new bride will think of their home, wanting
everything to be perfect for her.
Poor Filch... his first encounter with Minerva was terribly humiliating
for him. Yes, Hagrid is still adjusting to his new position in life.
Alchemine: Thank you!! And thank you for letting Madam Valerian come
over!
Poor house-elves... I hope that the food-orders at Hogwarts don't get
messed up as often or as badly as the ones delivered to the school where
I work. I couldn't resist writing that bit about the deliveries.
Yes, Minerva felt sympathy for Filch rather than pity. Filch has trouble
distinguishing the two.
Mysterious Unsigned Reviewer: Thank you!!
Darklady: Thank you!! Yes, exactly... Filch felt terribly embarrassed to
have been rescued by a pretty girl. It will be a while before he'll be
able to look at Minerva without blushing.
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a story about Filch's early days at Hogwarts
Chapter Five: A Riddle in the Dark
(Apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien)
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling,
except for Madam Valerian,
who has Alchemine's permission to come over and play.
"Hagrid's right," I thought. "I can't go on like this."
Nine days ago I'd been glad to get Mr. Pringle's permission to
dust and sweep the Castle corridors at night. Not having to face the
students was a relief. Unfortunately, working most of the night and then
getting up early in the morning to go to work again was taking a toll on
me.
It was the middle of the afternoon. I was resting on the floor in
front of the kitchen fireplace. I couldn't remember walking over to the
hearth. The last thing I remembered clearly was sitting down for lunch.
Around me, house-elves murmured in concern.
"Poor boy. He is needing to rest."
"If Apollyon Pringle is finding Argus Filch sleeping, then boy
will be punished!"
"Argus Filch must be hidden!"
There was a rustle of movement. I felt many small hands busily
piling things on top of me. Was that a blanket? No, more likely it was a
tablecloth. The tablecloth was swiftly followed by a heap of warm, soft
dish towels. When I was completely covered up, a small hand gave my
concealed head a gentle pat.
*******
Sleeping in front of the fire, I dreamed.
The Castle corridor was empty, except for the tall, black-haired
girl and me. She looked at me and smiled. I held out my hand to her, and
she took it. Her smile was the only magic I needed to make me want to
dance.
A foolish dream, but a very sweet one, nonetheless.
Abruptly, I was awakened by new voices in the kitchen. They were
too deep to belong to house-elves. Wizards...
I could feel them as well as hear them. Their magic overwhelmed
me, bone-weary as I was. The elder of the two was very old indeed. Age,
time and many cares had dimmed his strength. Now his power was like a
bed of smouldering embers.
In contrast, the other wizard's magic was a white-hot, roaring
furnace.
House elves greeted the pair in squeaky voices. "Good afternoon,
Headmaster Dippet, sir! Master was not at lunch! He is wanting tea?"
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore! Sir is missing lunch too! Is sir
hungry? Is sir wanting some hot chocolate?"
Merlin's Teeth... the Headmaster himself! And the formidable
Transfiguration Professor who had reduced poor Hagrid to tears...!
From the sound of things, they were seated at the table where
Hagrid and I usually took our meals.
I heard the house-elves fetching them tea, hot chocolate and
something to eat. Then the little creatures went about their business,
washing up from the students' lunch. The Professors were left alone to
talk.
If I'd had even the smallest amount of magical talent I would have
used it then, to avoid eavesdropping. Spying on the private
conversations of my betters... well, I knew Mr. Pringle would never
approve. If the old caretaker ever found out about this, he would have
the skin off my back.
The Professors scared me even more than Mr. Pringle. If they
discovered me, I might find myself wishing for the caretaker's relative
mercy. I tried to keep very still under my nest of tablecloth-and-
dishtowels.
Headmaster Dippet had just mentioned Hagrid's name.
"...behaving himself," the old wizard said. "No more trouble since
that last incident? What was it ... a werewolf? Albus, I do understand
that, in spite of everything, he means no harm. But the safety of the
students must always be our first concern."
"I agree, Headmaster. Hagrid feels the same as we do. Young as he
is, he would willingly place himself in harm's way to protect any of the
students, or any of the staff. When I explained the danger to all
concerned, Hagrid was considerably chastened."
Dippet sighed. "Albus," he said, in a quavering voice, "I am
troubled by the notion that the boy needed an explanation in order to
understand that a werewolf is dangerous."
"Hagrid is so much at home in the Forest," Dumbledore said,
quietly. "Realizing that the same is not true of everyone is difficult
for him. His affinity for the wild creatures and places of this world is
a gift. As with any gift, it may take years for him to study and master
it."
"A gift, Albus? Perhaps so, but I fear that it is a Dark one. Oh,
my dear boy, please don't look at me like that. I haven't said that the
child himself is Dark. But, surely, you must admit..."
"Headmaster, you know I have never believed that Hagrid, or any
creature of his, was truly responsible for what happened."
Both wizards were keeping their magic and their emotions carefully
in check. They might disagree, but there was clearly friendship and
respect between them.
Even so, the strength of their feelings was making their powers
flare and surge. Aged and diminished as he was, the Headmaster's power
was still enough to make me flinch. And the incandescence of the
Transfiguration Master's magic was painful. A soft whimper escaped me.
The Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore continued speaking, and I prayed
that neither one of them had heard.
"Albus, you must continue to impress upon Hagrid the profound
importance of keeping the Forest's creatures IN the Forest." Headmaster
Dippet was saying.
"Yes, of course I will, sir." Professor Dumbledore replied.
"I know that you're very fond of the boy. But, he's running out of
chances."
*******
For a time after the wizards had left the kitchen, I remained
hidden, too filled with guilt and misery to move.
What had I *done?* I should have kept my mouth shut. Why couldn't
they just beat Hagrid or lock him up in chains? Those punishments would
have been reasonable. But, the Headmaster sounded ready to have Hagrid
dismissed...
The boy had no family. Mr. Ogg had said that Professor Dumbledore
was the closest thing that Hagrid had to a guardian. If Hagrid was
banished from the Castle, would he lose Dumbledore too?
To be cast out, alone, to starve in the snow...! Poor child. He
didn't deserve that.
Exhausted and distressed, my work that afternoon was slipshod at
best. Impatiently, Mr. Pringle boxed my ears. I hardly felt a thing.
Even now, Hagrid had a creature concealed in a cupboard in the
storeroom beneath the kitchen. He'd denied it of course. Still, I knew
what I'd heard.
There was really only one thing I could think of to do.
*******
That night, instead of attending to my dusting and sweeping, I
crept down to the kitchen storeroom. The torch I carried made the
shadows of all the boxes and bags seem threatening.
"H-Hello...?" I called out, my voice shaking. "I know you're in
here! `Mosag,' he called you. If anyone finds out that he's keeping you,
he'll be sent away! You have to leave..."
Silence was my only answer. Nervously, I went deeper into the
storeroom.
"Mosag?" I called. "Answer me!"
Suddenly, a black shadow rose from the floor, directly in front of
me. It was huge, monstrous!
Yelling with fright, my heart beating like a snidget's wings, I
backpedaled frantically. Tripping over a crate of tins, I sat down hard.
A huge hand caught my torch before it could set anything on fire.
"Filch! Shut up, yeh git! D'yeh want ter wake up the whole
Castle?"
"H-Hagrid?"
"Couldn' leave well enough alone, could yeh? I honestly didn'
think yeh'd have the courage ter come snooping down here, but I figured
it was better ter be safe than sorry!"
"Hagrid, you're supposed to be asleep, not lurking in here!" I
hissed.
"An' yer supposed ter be working upstairs, not sneaking abou'!"
Hagrid retorted.
When the boy spoke again, his tone had turned plaintive. "Mosag
never hurt no one, Filch. All she wants is a home an' a family. In a day
or so, when the snow melts a bit more, I'll take her out ter the
Forest!"
"No, you've got to take her outside now! I-I heard them talking...
the Headmaster and your Professor Dumbledore. The Professor defended
you, but Headmaster Dippet told him that you're running out of chances.
If anyone finds out what you're doing...!"
"Are yeh going ter tell on me, Filch? Again?" Hagrid tried to
growl at me but he sounded more scared than angry.
"It'd serve you right if I did! But, no. I'm not going to tell, I
promise. As long as you take that thing out to the Forest, tonight,
right now!"
We stared at each other for a very long moment.
Then Hagrid sighed. "Done," he said, handing back my torch. "Help
me. I need yeh ter find a big empty box, or a nice big sack ter carry
her in."
There was a large box that was mostly empty of food tins on a
lower shelf. Stacking the tins on a nearby wooden pallet, I dragged the
box over to Hagrid.
The boy was crouching in front of a cupboard at the very back of
the storeroom. He was speaking soft, coaxing words.
"C'mon, Mosag. It'll be alrigh.' I won' let anyone hurt yeh. An' I
promise I won' leave yeh, not til yer safe with Aragog..."
I heard a rustling movement. And the same strange clicking sounds
I'd heard this morning.
Curiously I moved my torch closer to Hagrid, meaning to get just a
glimpse of Mosag. A glimpse was all I got. But it was more than enough.
The creature had a large, round, hairy body. And many eyes
gleaming. And legs! Lots and lots of long, hairy legs....
I screamed until I ran out of breath. Then I took a great gulp of
air and screamed some more.
Hagrid put his huge hand over my mouth to shut me up. I sunk my
teeth deep into his thumb.
"YEEE-OW!" Hagrid bellowed. "Filch, yeh stupid GIT!!! NO, MOSAG,
I'm alrigh'... DON' HURT HIM!!!"
It seemed that Hagrid's creature was as protective of the boy as
he was of her. Her razor-sharp pincers gleaming, the beast leaped at me.
Still wailing, I swung my torch at her. Mosag leaped over me, her
pincers slashing at the arm I'd flung up to protect my head.
Clicking and wailing almost as loudly as I was, Mosag scuttled
rapidly towards the storeroom door.
"Git!" Hagrid snapped at me, clutching his bleeding thumb. After
stomping out the torch that I'd dropped on the floor, he hurried after
his monster.
*******
Hardly aware of what I was doing or where I meant to go, I
stumbled through the Castle corridors. It was very late. I should have
been in bed hours ago. I still had work to do. Dusting and sweeping. Let
Hagrid worry about his awful monster. As long as the creature was safely
out of the Castle, the poor stupid oaf wouldn't be sent away...
Where was my dustmop? My broom?
Shivering even though I was sweating, I leaned against a wall.
There was a soft whisper of magic, like a door opening. I tumbled
through the wall, to land on a soft rug.
Daylight. Sunshine and flowers. The room with the fountain, the
loom and the tapestries. I was always safe here. The monster couldn't
get me...
Oh, Merlin, I was going to be sick. Mustn't make a mess in this
tidy room. Hands pressed over my mouth, I leaned back against the wall
and fell through again.
Retching miserably, I curled up on the corridor floor. Damp. Cool.
The dungeons? How had I gotten here? Was I near the caretaker's office?
I thought maybe I was.
"Mr. Pringle... help me..." I gasped. My voice sounded very faint.
I sensed something then. A whisper of magic. As if another door
had opened.
Strong emotions accompanied the magic. Elation! Recognition!
Then the joy darkened. Anguish. Traveled Through, yes, but no
answering Recognition...
Lonely... so lonely...
Feverish, nearly delirious, I wept broken-hearted tears for
something that couldn't weep for itself.
I wasn't alone in the corridor now. A tall, black-haired boy had
nearly fallen over me. On the wall at his back was an extremely plain
tapestry.
"I know you," he said, quite dispassionately. The powerful
emotions all around us seemed to be leaving him completely untouched.
I sensed that he was overlooking something precious and important.
But the feeling was too difficult for me to put into words, weak and ill
as I was.
"You're Pringle's Squib," the boy said. "What's happened to you?"
Kneeling, he peered into my eyes and felt the pulse in my throat. His
nose wrinkled at the stench of vomit.
He lifted one of my arms, noting the tear in my sleeve, and the
gash left by Mosag's pincer.
"Poison, in a defensive wound," he murmured. "When fresh, the
secretion of an Acromantula has a scent, subtle, but quite distinctive.
My goodness. How many of those creatures does Hagrid have?"
"No..." I whimpered, frightened at how swiftly he'd figured out
the huge boy's involvement. It was hard for me to stay focused and
coherent, but I'd promised Hagrid that I wouldn't tell anyone.
Making promises was something that I rarely did, but I always tried my
best to keep the few promises I made...
"Not Hagrid... he didn't... he had nothing to do with..."
"Oh, no. Of course he didn't," the boy said, in a very dry tone.
Then he laughed softly. "Hagrid may not be nearly as subtle as the scent
of an Acromantula's poison, but his ...effects are certainly just as
distinctive."
"Please..." I whispered. "They'll send him away. And he has no
one..."
"How terribly sad. The world is full of orphans, you know." The
boy's voice was cold.
I curled into a ball as dry heaves shook me, too sick to go on
pleading with him.
"Foolish Squib. If you had any sense you would be less worried
about Hagrid and more worried about yourself," the boy said.
Then he sighed. "Another death in the castle would be most
inconvenient. The memories are still too fresh. And then there's the
fact that a certain sharp-eyed, suspicious individual would be bound to
notice that your symptoms are nothing like those of the first victim.
Perhaps you're right. Amusing as it would be to blacken Hagrid's name
further, it would be best to leave him out of this, entirely."
A surge of power from him made me cry out.
"Mobilicorpus."
Gently, I rose from the floor to float in front of him.
"Well, I shall try to look on the bright side. At least you've
given me another opportunity to play the hero."
*******
"Filch, I'm sorry. I didn' know..." Hagrid said, miserably. His
face was white. He looked very young and frightened. "I didn' know that
she'd scratched yeh. They secrete a poison when they're afraid. Yeh
scared her! She wouldn't have hurt yeh, if yeh hadn't yelled like yeh
did."
"I scared HER? She scared ME. I didn't want to yell. I couldn't
help it."
"I suppose yeh couldn't. Poor, silly git." The boy sighed and
looked at his bandaged thumb, ruefully.
"Hagrid, dear, hold still..." Madam Valerian said, gently. The
medi-witch was standing behind Hagrid, who was sitting, cross-legged on
the floor next to my bed.
The school nurse had helped the boy take off his shirt. Now she
was holding a bowl of water and a soft, clean cloth. She was carefully
bathing the welts on Hagrid's broad back.
"Hagrid... you told Mr. Pringle what you did... Why...? I lied to
him for you. I told him that I didn't know where the creature had come
from! You oaf. They'll send you away..."
Madam Valerian frowned. It was clear that she didn't approve of
Mr. Pringle's methods of discipline. "No one is being sent away," she
reassured us briskly. "Professor Dumbledore told the Headmaster that he
wouldn't hear of Hagrid being sent away, and Mr. Ogg spoke up in
Hagrid's defense and then Mr. Pringle said that he'd already punished
the boy quite severely, and it would be a shame to deprive Mr. Ogg of
his apprentice."
My eyes widened. "Hagrid? Mr. Pringle defended you?"
Hagrid sighed, wincing. "Well, he was in a good mood an' feeling
pleased with himself, I guess. Bin wanting ter teach me a lesson fer a
while, hasn't he? The old man finally got his chance."
I didn't mind at all when Pringle thrashed the students. And I
thought that Hagrid's punishment was well-deserved. Still, the thought
of Hagrid being beaten was unexpectedly troubling.
"It's alrigh' Filch," the boy said, gruffly, when he saw my
expression. "It doesn't hurt so much, really. Other things that happened
las' night bother me more. Of all the people in the castle that yeh
coulda' picked ter collapse in front of. I wish that yeh'd puked yer
guts all over him! Though he'd still have found some way ter come out
smelling like a rose..."
I frowned, thinking of the young wizard who'd found me and brought
me to the hospital wing. My recollections of the encounter were confused
and disjointed. I remembered wanting to tell him something important,
but the memory was gone.
Madam Valerian had finished tending Hagrid's back. Patting his
dark tangled curls in a motherly way, she stood up to put away the bowl
and the cloth.
When she went out of earshot, Hagrid leaned closer and whispered,
"Mosag is safe in the Forest, with Aragog and they're happy. Love at
firs' sight it was. An' that's what makes everything alrigh' s'far as
I'm concerned."
I shuddered. "Hagrid... the whole Forest will be full of those...
things."
"Yep. That's the point, isn't it? They wanted a family. No one
*wants* ter be lonely, Filch. No matter who, or what they are."
"They're monsters... not people," I mumbled, frowning again. I
knew that he was right. People weren't the only ones who could be
lonely...
Madam Valerian was giving Hagrid a pointed look. The boy picked up
his shirt and stood.
"At least yeh can have a proper rest now, Filch, instead of
nodding off into yer breakfast tomorrow," Hagrid said, comfortingly, and
left me alone to sleep.
End of Chapter Five
Author's Notes:
Unrepentent Reader: Thank you!!
Jelsemium: Thank you!! Hagrid's ability to feel strongly, and yet get
over things is one of the most admirable aspects of his personality. He
is a sweetie! Unlike poor Argus who has a very difficult time getting
over anything.
Yes, the infamous Olive Hornsby would still be at Hogwarts too, wouldn't
she? An intriguing thought...
Bob says "Hi!"
Re, the house-elves... yes, that scene was taken from my job. (Tomorrow
is another Delivery day. I can't wait to see what gets mixed up this
time...)
Andrea13: Thank you!! Yes, young Filch has little experience with good
natured teasing. He isn't even aware of the concept.
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Poor Mosag must have been as nervous as any
other mail-order bride. And Aragog was pretty nervous too. I can picture
the big spider scuttling nervously around his snowy Forest-hollow,
wondering what his new bride will think of their home, wanting
everything to be perfect for her.
Poor Filch... his first encounter with Minerva was terribly humiliating
for him. Yes, Hagrid is still adjusting to his new position in life.
Alchemine: Thank you!! And thank you for letting Madam Valerian come
over!
Poor house-elves... I hope that the food-orders at Hogwarts don't get
messed up as often or as badly as the ones delivered to the school where
I work. I couldn't resist writing that bit about the deliveries.
Yes, Minerva felt sympathy for Filch rather than pity. Filch has trouble
distinguishing the two.
Mysterious Unsigned Reviewer: Thank you!!
Darklady: Thank you!! Yes, exactly... Filch felt terribly embarrassed to
have been rescued by a pretty girl. It will be a while before he'll be
able to look at Minerva without blushing.