Squib Apprentice
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a story about Filch's early days at Hogwarts
Chapter Six: Coming of Age in Dangerous Times
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
"Boy," Mr. Pringle said to me gruffly, "I've been too easy with
you."
He took a deep breath. "From now on there'll be no more working at
night. All your jobs *will* be finished at a reasonable hour, no matter
WHO else happens to be about while you're working! Do you understand
me?"
"Yes, sir," I murmured, twisting my hands together nervously.
The caretaker handed me a list of jobs that needed doing. After
reading it, I raised my eyes to look at him in apprehension. The first
item was dusting the portraits along the right hand fifth floor
corridor. There were classrooms all along that corridor.
I saw both sympathy and resolution in the old man's craggy face.
"Filch, if any of those brats make trouble for you," Pringle
growled, "you tell me. I'll make 'em sorry!"
This was some comfort to me, but I was still anxious. Swallowing
hard, I went to start my work.
*******
To my relief, no one bothered me that day, or over the weeks that
followed. For the most part the students behaved as if I truly was as
invisible as I was trying to be. Hagrid had been right. The students
usually had other things on their minds besides tormenting me.
Still, for a while I couldn't help feeling a bit sick whenever I
encountered a group of black-robed young witches and wizards. Their
magic whispered and teased at my senses as I moved through the
corridors. The sensation made me feel both fearful and disapproving.
Unwilling to give the brats any reason to notice me, I kept silent,
rarely looking up to meet their eyes. The memory of jeering faces and
pity glimpsed in an angel's grey eyes continued to be painful.
I became busier than ever. Now, apparently resigned to having a
Squib for an apprentice, Mr. Pringle began teaching me in earnest about
the Castle and everything in it.
He gave me notes to study on some of the various magical
knickknacks located throughout Hogwarts. I read about their histories,
learning which ones were dangerous to touch, ("always dust *around* that
vase, boy, it's not exactly Cursed, but it IS very temperamental,") and
which ones needed to be kept far away from each other. (We had several
feuding suits of armor, a few portraits who didn't get along and a
valuable vanishing cabinet with a tendency to make anything small that
was kept too close to it, vanish.)
Some of the Castle's items weren't what they seemed. There was a
grandfather clock in the staffroom which was really a shortcut up to the
Astronomy tower when you opened it and went inside. There was a stained
glass window in the dungeons which was really a painting. And several of
the mats in the professor's bathroom on the seventh floor seemed to
think that they were really flying carpets. (They had a tendency to
escape and needed to be rounded up with nets and long poles.)
I learned how to assemble suits of armor and restore damaged
portraits and paintings. To accomplish the latter, I used enchanted
paintbrushes and specialized cleaning potions. To Mr. Pringle's surprise
(and my relief) I proved to be not entirely incompetent at it.
The caretaker taught me how to mix simpler cleaning solutions
myself. Different cleansers needed to be used for stone, metal, glass
and cloth. Some could be mixed in a bucket. Many were ordered ready-
made, but others we needed to obtain from the Potions master.
There were always drains to be unclogged and leaky water taps to
be fixed. Mr. Pringle had plenty of opportunities to instruct me on the
intricacies of the Castle's plumbing system.
And then there were the never-ending stacks of detention forms,
which provided me with a chance to learn how to file and organize
paperwork.
Mr. Pringle didn't have to worry about me going to sleep at a
reasonable hour. I fell into bed exhausted at night. I was kept too busy
to worry very much about the students.
*******
In fair weather, Mr. Ogg and Mr. Pringle liked to do their
drinking outside, on a small hill behind the Castle where they burned
the rubbish. But on cold winter nights, they could often be found at the
pub in Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks always had a warm fire and an
interesting crowd.
Sometimes Hagrid and I were invited to accompany the groundskeeper
and the caretaker to the village pub. It was a wonderful treat for
Hagrid. The boy listened eagerly to all the talking. He chattered away
like an overly large magpie to anyone who seemed friendly. Shy around so
many strangers, I stayed quiet and kept as close to Mr. Ogg and Mr.
Pringle as I could.
Mixed in with the amusing stories and the homey gossip about
doings in the village there were mentions of more sinister things. The
Dark wizard, Grindelwald was spoken of in hushed whispers. People told
of deaths and mysterious disappearances. And frightening tales of the
terrible Muggle war were sometimes told as well.
Soft-hearted, indulgent Ogg might have allowed Hagrid to stay up
drinking, chattering and listening to stories all night long. But Mr.
Pringle had firm ideas about the wrongness of young people being
permitted to stay out so late, whether they were staff or not.
Sternly, Pringle kept track of the passing hours. He made sure to
let Hagrid and me know when it was time for us to take our leave and
head back to the Castle.
The caretaker had warmed up to Hagrid. Being allowed to punish the
boy and reassert his authority over him had mollified the old man
considerably. And Hagrid's genuine remorse over the fact that I'd been
injured by his creature hadn't escaped Pringle's notice.
*******
Late one February night, Hagrid and I were making our way back to
the Castle from the village pub. We were accompanied by Belle and
Towser, the two large dogs that Ogg kept as pets. Ogg was well-liked at
the pub and no one objected when he brought the dogs along to see Hagrid
and me home.
Perhaps I had drunk a bit more than I should have done but I was
still able to hold our lantern steady. Hagrid, who had consumed an
impressive amount of fire-whiskey, was lumbering along behind me,
singing a song he'd just heard this evening. To my irritation, he was
getting most of the words wrong.
I was trying to decide if it was worth the bother to correct him
or not, when both dogs stopped and raised their heads. Belle, the bolder
of the two, growled softly and Towser whimpered.
Almost at the same moment I felt ...something. A cold brush of
magic, horribly Dark and foul. Suddenly frightened, I wanted to run up
the road all the way to the Castle, though the pub was much closer.
My body wouldn't move. I halted, shivering. Hagrid bumped into me
from behind and nearly knocked me down.
"What is it?" he asked me curiously. Then he noticed the dogs.
Belle's growl had deepened and Towser had his tail tucked between his
hind legs.
"S-Something's out there! I don't know what it is. Something
horrible. Over that way..." I held up the lantern with a shaky hand.
Belle and Towser were looking in the same direction. There was
nothing to see except for the snow-covered hill on the side of the road.
Then to my horror, Hagrid, with Belle at his side, promptly
stepped off the road and began to crunch uphill through the snow. The
oaf was going to investigate!
My paralysis left me. I felt very sober indeed.
"No, you idiot! Stop!" I hissed, hurrying after him. I grabbed his
arm. "Either we go back to the pub, or we go on to the Castle!
Whatever's out there, it's too much for the likes of us!"
"Yeh don' know that fer certain, Filch. Someone migh' be out
there, hurt bad an' needing our help!"
Shaking me off as if I weighed nothing (compared to him, I did)
the huge boy strode off into the darkness accompanied by the still-
growling Belle.
Caught for a moment in indecision, I clutched nervously at
Towser's collar with one hand and the lantern with the other.
Well, I couldn't seek the safety of the pub or the Castle now, no
matter how badly I wanted to! It would mean abandoning Hagrid.
I considered it my duty to look after the boy. It didn't matter if
Hagrid was bigger and stronger than I was. It didn't matter if he had
magic while I had none. The young fool wasn't supposed to use his magic.
I was the elder of us two, and the only one with any common sense! Maybe
I couldn't do much to protect him, but I had to try. There wasn't anyone
else around.
Trying not to whimper aloud as poor Towser was doing, I stumbled
after Hagrid. Much to his credit, the boy did not mock my obvious fear.
Nor did he tell me to turn back because I was useless. Hagrid is as
good-hearted as he is foolish. He had never teased me for being what I
am. Though I'd never told him so, I appreciated his matter-of-fact
acceptance. It meant more to me than I ever could have said.
I followed Hagrid as he climbed the slippery hillside. The snow
under our feet had hardened to ice in many places and the ground itself
was uneven. When Hagrid stumbled, Belle's collar slipped from his
fingers. The dog bounded off into the darkness, disappearing over the
top of the hill.
Calling Belle's name, Hagrid started to run after her. I sprang
forward and grabbed his coat, shaking my head wildly. The Dark magic was
surging again somewhere very near us, perhaps just on the other side of
the hill. It was thick, almost enough to choke me. We heard the yelping
cry of an animal in pain, and then silence.
"Belle!" Hagrid shouted.
He wrenched himself out of my hands and ran, stumbling over the
crest of the hill. Before he disappeared from view, I saw that he'd
pulled his umbrella from inside his coat. He was holding it in front of
him like a sword.
"Idiot!" I thought, my heart pounding, as Towser and I followed
him.
I heard Hagrid wail in anguish. I had a terrible feeling, even
before I reached the top of the hill, about what I was going to find.
When I got to the top of the hill and looked down, I saw Hagrid on
his knees in the snow, clutching Belle's lifeless body. The boy was
sobbing as if his heart would break.
Nothing else moved nearby. The Dark-magic feeling was fading now,
but the echoes of it still hung heavy in the air all around us. I
swayed, feeling ill and dizzy.
There had been someone very Dark here, just moments earlier.
Someone who had been startled to see a huge, growling dog lunging at
him, and the noise of people approaching from the other side of the
hill. Perhaps the Dark wizard had even seen Hagrid's large, threatening
shape as he'd followed behind poor Belle.
The Dark wizard wouldn't have known that Hagrid was only a boy,
who wasn't even allowed to use his magic.
Towser nosed Hagrid and Belle and then let out a long, mournful
howl. Hagrid cried harder.
I was furious, even as the boy's sobs tore at my heart. I wanted
to shout at Hagrid and shake him until his teeth rattled. If *he'd* been
the first one to come over the top of the hill...
Turning away from the sounds of Hagrid's grief, I was sick in the
snow.
It was a little while before I realized that Hagrid was calling
out to me. He sounded even younger than he really was, and very
frightened. Wiping my mouth with one hand, I stumbled over to him as
quickly as I could.
"Filch...?" he said, in a voice thick with tears. "C-Could yeh
shine yer light over there...?"
For the first time I noticed huddled shapes lying on the snowy
hillside. Towser was sniffing at one of them.
The light of my lantern revealed what they were.
Corpses.
*******
There were three of them. A witch and two wizards. A Dark Curse
had killed them, but they'd also been attacked by some creature that had
torn and mutilated their bodies. I hadn't taken a very good look at
their remains. The glimpses that I'd gotten would haunt my dreams for a
long time to come.
The men from the pub had shaken their heads grimly and muttered
"Grindelwald," in fearful voices when Hagrid and I had stumbled back
into the Three Broomsticks with Towser and tried to describe what we'd
found.
This terrible thing, happening on the outskirts of the village and
so close to the school, horrified everyone who knew of it. The incident
was hushed up as much as possible.
In the days that followed Hagrid and I were questioned several
times by different witches and wizards who were investigating the
murders.
It was eventually determined that the three victims had Apparated
to the hillside from somewhere else, only to be pursued and killed.
Hagrid and I were told very little. Neither of us were
particularly inclined to go nosing about for more answers. Hagrid was
too upset over Belle's death and both of us were numb with shock.
*******
Our questioning took place in the Transfiguration Master's office.
Professor Dumbledore always stayed with us while we were questioned.
This time, we'd been joined by Mr. Ogg and Mr. Pringle as well.
"You boys had no business leaving the road!" Pringle snarled at us
when the questioning was over and the strange wizards had gone. "It's
not your place to meddle with such Dark and terrible things, either one
of you!
"What were you *thinking?*" the old caretaker raged. "One of you
is as helpless as a Muggle and the other one is as brainless as a Troll!
I ought to beat both of you bloody! Don't you know that you brats could
have been KILLED?"
I cringed. I'd never heard Mr. Pringle sound so savage. He'd been
in shock himself over the past couple of days, unusually quiet and
distracted. Now he seemed like himself, only more so.
"Apollyon!" the Transfiguration Master's deep voice was stern.
"Hagrid and Filch have done nothing wrong!
"Quite the opposite," Dumbledore continued, his tone softening as
he looked at us. "Hagrid wanted to aid those in peril and Filch would
not allow any child in his charge to walk alone into danger. It seems to
me that you and Ogg have taught your apprentices their proper
responsibilities most diligently."
Ogg nodded, studying Hagrid with mingled pride and concern, but
Pringle was still scowling at us.
"With respect, Professor, it still falls to us to keep the pair of
them safe," the caretaker said, firmly, getting himself under better
control.
Pringle truly wouldn't feel that he'd done his job unless he
punished us. The old man looked from Hagrid to me and growled, "There'll
be no more visits to the pub for either of you, until further notice!"
I wasn't too distressed on my own account. But the dismay on
Hagrid's already sad face troubled me.
"Filch! Come! We have work to do!" Pringle snarled.
"He'll be along in a moment, Apollyon," Dumbledore promised the
caretaker. "I'd like a brief word with him first."
The Transfiguration Master was standing with his hand on Hagrid's
shoulder.
"Don't fret, lad," Ogg said to Hagrid in a gruff, comforting voice
after Pringle had gone into the corridor. "Apollyon will change his mind
about the pub in a week or two if I keep at him. And I will."
A few moments later, when Hagrid and Ogg had also left, I was
alone with the Transfiguration Master.
All of the Professors at Hogwarts were powerful witches and
wizards, but Dumbledore was in a class by himself. The strength of his
magic burned with such fierce intensity. He had never spoken a harsh
word to me, but he frightened me all the same.
"Please, look at me, Mr. Filch. You've been here at Hogwarts since
September, and I don't think I've ever actually seen your face."
Dumbledore's voice was kind. When I raised my head, he smiled at
me. "Have a seat," he said.
Nervously, I obeyed.
"What did you wish to speak to me about, sir?" I murmured.
"Hagrid," he said, quietly. "The boy means a great deal to me. For
now, he has no thought beyond mourning the loss of poor brave Belle. He
does not realize that you probably saved his life. But I realize it.
Thank you for looking after him. It isn't the first time that you've
done so."
Blushing with embarrassment, I stared down at his desk. It was
terribly cluttered, which made him seem more human and a bit less
terrifying.
"Hagrid's all right," I said, gruffly. "Maybe he'll have more
sense when he's older."
I felt brave enough to look at Dumbledore again. His eyes were
twinkling as if I'd said something amusing. The expression on his face
was warm and approving.
I felt a rush of pleasure when I thought about what he'd said.
Everyone had always treated me as a boy, but Dumbledore spoke as if he
truly saw me as someone grown-up and responsible.
"Sir?" I said, feeling braver still, "perhaps Mr. Pringle is
right? Maybe it's not such a good idea to allow Hagrid to visit the
Three Broomsticks? I know the boy enjoys it, but considering what
happened..."
"You have a point, Mr. Filch," Dumbledore said, gravely. My
opinion really did mean something to him! "But, Mr. Ogg and I both feel
that Hagrid needs to find companionship and acceptance somewhere *other*
than in the Forest."
"Oh," I said, pausing to consider this.
I supposed that he had a point too. It was better for Hagrid to be
with people than to spend his time playing with werewolves and large
clicking things that had too many legs.
"A good solution might be if Mr. Pringle and Mr. Ogg would let us
stay at the pub until they're ready to leave," I ventured. "Three of us
might have an easier time keeping Hagrid out of trouble. But Mr. Pringle
would never allow such a thing."
Dumbledore smiled. "No, I agree that would not be likely. Though I
wouldn't be at all surprised if Apollyon lets Ogg convince him that they
ought to leave the pub earlier to see you and Hagrid home. Poor
Apollyon. He's blaming himself for what could have happened, you know."
I did know. "He only sent us home early because he was trying to
look out for us," I said. "It's not his fault."
Frowning, I continued. "I can't tell him so, of course. He'll
think I'm out of bounds and then he'll punish me. I'll just try to tread
lightly until he's feeling better."
Dumbledore continued to look at me as if he approved of what he
saw.
I sat up a bit straighter, pleased that he was interested in my
opinions. In spite of what had happened and the awful things I'd seen, I
felt almost happy. Imagine a wizard with all his power, speaking to me
as if I was someone who mattered!
END OF CHAPTER SIX
(In memory of Richard Harris, who was such a kind, comforting
Dumbledore.)
Author's Notes:
My thanks to Alchemine, whose description of the aftermath of one of
Grindelwald's attacks provided the inspiration for Filch and Hagrid's
brush with Darkness.
My thanks to everyone who reviewed "A Squib Without A Clue!"
aniwda: Thank you!!
Aftertaste of a Razorblade: Thank you!!
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! No, Filch hasn't yet been convinced that
Harry's Cloak exists. When he is convinced, he will keep the promise
that he made to Snape. (This will happen in the forthcoming story "Squib
Summer.")
Saphron: Thank you!!
oO WTH: Thank you!!
Alla: Thank you!!
Snapefan51: But Moody wasn't really himself in this story... he was
Barty Crouch, Junior, who did seem to have too much fun tormenting poor
Severus.
Fetch: Thank you!!
AET: Thank you!! Filch will discuss the matter of Harry's Invisibility
Cloak with Dumbledore in "Squib Summer," which will hopefully be posted
soon.
GeEtErZ: Thank you!!
Shadowycat: Thank you!! I really like your description of Dumbledore as
someone playing a chess game about ten moves ahead of his opponent.
Jelsemium: Thank you, Pardner!!
My thanks to those who have reviewed Chapter Five of "Squib Apprentice"
since the last time I said thanks!:
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! Yes, Tom used a Memory Charm on Filch. It
may not have been necessary, since Argus was already nearly delirious
from the poison.
My take on Hagrid's view of Tom is that Hagrid saw Tom as most people
saw him; the Perfect Prefect and Head Boy who was good at everything.
Hagrid thinks that Tom just wouldn't LISTEN to him when he tried to
explain that poor Aragog was innocent. Hagrid's not bitter, but he's not
too fond of Tommy-boy either.
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, I can see Dumbledore spending years
defending poor Hagrid's innocence. Filch's jumbled memories are due to
the combined effects of a Memory Charm (I should have been more clear
about that 'surge of power') and the fever.
Did the burst blood vessel in your eye hurt? I don't like shoveling snow
either.
RADKA: Thank you!! Dippet wasn't a bad person, but he certainly wasn't
as open-minded as Dumbledore. Yaaaay!!! Filch has his own character
section now!! I was so happy when I saw that!!
Pringle WANTS to be scary. He was probably beaten a lot as a kid himself
and thought that it gave him lots of "character."
oO WTH: Thank you!!
Redone: Thank you!! Tommy-boy definitely does underestimate Squibs,
Muggles, and Muggle-borns, but he used a Memory Charm on Filch so that
Filch doesn't remember what Riddle told him.
Filch's relationship with Snape when the troubled young former Death
Eater first returns to Hogwarts? Oooh, that's an interesting thought!
I'll have to see what ideas come to mind....
Emma: Thank you!! Olive Hornsby was the tormentor of poor Moaning
Myrtle.
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
a story about Filch's early days at Hogwarts
Chapter Six: Coming of Age in Dangerous Times
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
"Boy," Mr. Pringle said to me gruffly, "I've been too easy with
you."
He took a deep breath. "From now on there'll be no more working at
night. All your jobs *will* be finished at a reasonable hour, no matter
WHO else happens to be about while you're working! Do you understand
me?"
"Yes, sir," I murmured, twisting my hands together nervously.
The caretaker handed me a list of jobs that needed doing. After
reading it, I raised my eyes to look at him in apprehension. The first
item was dusting the portraits along the right hand fifth floor
corridor. There were classrooms all along that corridor.
I saw both sympathy and resolution in the old man's craggy face.
"Filch, if any of those brats make trouble for you," Pringle
growled, "you tell me. I'll make 'em sorry!"
This was some comfort to me, but I was still anxious. Swallowing
hard, I went to start my work.
*******
To my relief, no one bothered me that day, or over the weeks that
followed. For the most part the students behaved as if I truly was as
invisible as I was trying to be. Hagrid had been right. The students
usually had other things on their minds besides tormenting me.
Still, for a while I couldn't help feeling a bit sick whenever I
encountered a group of black-robed young witches and wizards. Their
magic whispered and teased at my senses as I moved through the
corridors. The sensation made me feel both fearful and disapproving.
Unwilling to give the brats any reason to notice me, I kept silent,
rarely looking up to meet their eyes. The memory of jeering faces and
pity glimpsed in an angel's grey eyes continued to be painful.
I became busier than ever. Now, apparently resigned to having a
Squib for an apprentice, Mr. Pringle began teaching me in earnest about
the Castle and everything in it.
He gave me notes to study on some of the various magical
knickknacks located throughout Hogwarts. I read about their histories,
learning which ones were dangerous to touch, ("always dust *around* that
vase, boy, it's not exactly Cursed, but it IS very temperamental,") and
which ones needed to be kept far away from each other. (We had several
feuding suits of armor, a few portraits who didn't get along and a
valuable vanishing cabinet with a tendency to make anything small that
was kept too close to it, vanish.)
Some of the Castle's items weren't what they seemed. There was a
grandfather clock in the staffroom which was really a shortcut up to the
Astronomy tower when you opened it and went inside. There was a stained
glass window in the dungeons which was really a painting. And several of
the mats in the professor's bathroom on the seventh floor seemed to
think that they were really flying carpets. (They had a tendency to
escape and needed to be rounded up with nets and long poles.)
I learned how to assemble suits of armor and restore damaged
portraits and paintings. To accomplish the latter, I used enchanted
paintbrushes and specialized cleaning potions. To Mr. Pringle's surprise
(and my relief) I proved to be not entirely incompetent at it.
The caretaker taught me how to mix simpler cleaning solutions
myself. Different cleansers needed to be used for stone, metal, glass
and cloth. Some could be mixed in a bucket. Many were ordered ready-
made, but others we needed to obtain from the Potions master.
There were always drains to be unclogged and leaky water taps to
be fixed. Mr. Pringle had plenty of opportunities to instruct me on the
intricacies of the Castle's plumbing system.
And then there were the never-ending stacks of detention forms,
which provided me with a chance to learn how to file and organize
paperwork.
Mr. Pringle didn't have to worry about me going to sleep at a
reasonable hour. I fell into bed exhausted at night. I was kept too busy
to worry very much about the students.
*******
In fair weather, Mr. Ogg and Mr. Pringle liked to do their
drinking outside, on a small hill behind the Castle where they burned
the rubbish. But on cold winter nights, they could often be found at the
pub in Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks always had a warm fire and an
interesting crowd.
Sometimes Hagrid and I were invited to accompany the groundskeeper
and the caretaker to the village pub. It was a wonderful treat for
Hagrid. The boy listened eagerly to all the talking. He chattered away
like an overly large magpie to anyone who seemed friendly. Shy around so
many strangers, I stayed quiet and kept as close to Mr. Ogg and Mr.
Pringle as I could.
Mixed in with the amusing stories and the homey gossip about
doings in the village there were mentions of more sinister things. The
Dark wizard, Grindelwald was spoken of in hushed whispers. People told
of deaths and mysterious disappearances. And frightening tales of the
terrible Muggle war were sometimes told as well.
Soft-hearted, indulgent Ogg might have allowed Hagrid to stay up
drinking, chattering and listening to stories all night long. But Mr.
Pringle had firm ideas about the wrongness of young people being
permitted to stay out so late, whether they were staff or not.
Sternly, Pringle kept track of the passing hours. He made sure to
let Hagrid and me know when it was time for us to take our leave and
head back to the Castle.
The caretaker had warmed up to Hagrid. Being allowed to punish the
boy and reassert his authority over him had mollified the old man
considerably. And Hagrid's genuine remorse over the fact that I'd been
injured by his creature hadn't escaped Pringle's notice.
*******
Late one February night, Hagrid and I were making our way back to
the Castle from the village pub. We were accompanied by Belle and
Towser, the two large dogs that Ogg kept as pets. Ogg was well-liked at
the pub and no one objected when he brought the dogs along to see Hagrid
and me home.
Perhaps I had drunk a bit more than I should have done but I was
still able to hold our lantern steady. Hagrid, who had consumed an
impressive amount of fire-whiskey, was lumbering along behind me,
singing a song he'd just heard this evening. To my irritation, he was
getting most of the words wrong.
I was trying to decide if it was worth the bother to correct him
or not, when both dogs stopped and raised their heads. Belle, the bolder
of the two, growled softly and Towser whimpered.
Almost at the same moment I felt ...something. A cold brush of
magic, horribly Dark and foul. Suddenly frightened, I wanted to run up
the road all the way to the Castle, though the pub was much closer.
My body wouldn't move. I halted, shivering. Hagrid bumped into me
from behind and nearly knocked me down.
"What is it?" he asked me curiously. Then he noticed the dogs.
Belle's growl had deepened and Towser had his tail tucked between his
hind legs.
"S-Something's out there! I don't know what it is. Something
horrible. Over that way..." I held up the lantern with a shaky hand.
Belle and Towser were looking in the same direction. There was
nothing to see except for the snow-covered hill on the side of the road.
Then to my horror, Hagrid, with Belle at his side, promptly
stepped off the road and began to crunch uphill through the snow. The
oaf was going to investigate!
My paralysis left me. I felt very sober indeed.
"No, you idiot! Stop!" I hissed, hurrying after him. I grabbed his
arm. "Either we go back to the pub, or we go on to the Castle!
Whatever's out there, it's too much for the likes of us!"
"Yeh don' know that fer certain, Filch. Someone migh' be out
there, hurt bad an' needing our help!"
Shaking me off as if I weighed nothing (compared to him, I did)
the huge boy strode off into the darkness accompanied by the still-
growling Belle.
Caught for a moment in indecision, I clutched nervously at
Towser's collar with one hand and the lantern with the other.
Well, I couldn't seek the safety of the pub or the Castle now, no
matter how badly I wanted to! It would mean abandoning Hagrid.
I considered it my duty to look after the boy. It didn't matter if
Hagrid was bigger and stronger than I was. It didn't matter if he had
magic while I had none. The young fool wasn't supposed to use his magic.
I was the elder of us two, and the only one with any common sense! Maybe
I couldn't do much to protect him, but I had to try. There wasn't anyone
else around.
Trying not to whimper aloud as poor Towser was doing, I stumbled
after Hagrid. Much to his credit, the boy did not mock my obvious fear.
Nor did he tell me to turn back because I was useless. Hagrid is as
good-hearted as he is foolish. He had never teased me for being what I
am. Though I'd never told him so, I appreciated his matter-of-fact
acceptance. It meant more to me than I ever could have said.
I followed Hagrid as he climbed the slippery hillside. The snow
under our feet had hardened to ice in many places and the ground itself
was uneven. When Hagrid stumbled, Belle's collar slipped from his
fingers. The dog bounded off into the darkness, disappearing over the
top of the hill.
Calling Belle's name, Hagrid started to run after her. I sprang
forward and grabbed his coat, shaking my head wildly. The Dark magic was
surging again somewhere very near us, perhaps just on the other side of
the hill. It was thick, almost enough to choke me. We heard the yelping
cry of an animal in pain, and then silence.
"Belle!" Hagrid shouted.
He wrenched himself out of my hands and ran, stumbling over the
crest of the hill. Before he disappeared from view, I saw that he'd
pulled his umbrella from inside his coat. He was holding it in front of
him like a sword.
"Idiot!" I thought, my heart pounding, as Towser and I followed
him.
I heard Hagrid wail in anguish. I had a terrible feeling, even
before I reached the top of the hill, about what I was going to find.
When I got to the top of the hill and looked down, I saw Hagrid on
his knees in the snow, clutching Belle's lifeless body. The boy was
sobbing as if his heart would break.
Nothing else moved nearby. The Dark-magic feeling was fading now,
but the echoes of it still hung heavy in the air all around us. I
swayed, feeling ill and dizzy.
There had been someone very Dark here, just moments earlier.
Someone who had been startled to see a huge, growling dog lunging at
him, and the noise of people approaching from the other side of the
hill. Perhaps the Dark wizard had even seen Hagrid's large, threatening
shape as he'd followed behind poor Belle.
The Dark wizard wouldn't have known that Hagrid was only a boy,
who wasn't even allowed to use his magic.
Towser nosed Hagrid and Belle and then let out a long, mournful
howl. Hagrid cried harder.
I was furious, even as the boy's sobs tore at my heart. I wanted
to shout at Hagrid and shake him until his teeth rattled. If *he'd* been
the first one to come over the top of the hill...
Turning away from the sounds of Hagrid's grief, I was sick in the
snow.
It was a little while before I realized that Hagrid was calling
out to me. He sounded even younger than he really was, and very
frightened. Wiping my mouth with one hand, I stumbled over to him as
quickly as I could.
"Filch...?" he said, in a voice thick with tears. "C-Could yeh
shine yer light over there...?"
For the first time I noticed huddled shapes lying on the snowy
hillside. Towser was sniffing at one of them.
The light of my lantern revealed what they were.
Corpses.
*******
There were three of them. A witch and two wizards. A Dark Curse
had killed them, but they'd also been attacked by some creature that had
torn and mutilated their bodies. I hadn't taken a very good look at
their remains. The glimpses that I'd gotten would haunt my dreams for a
long time to come.
The men from the pub had shaken their heads grimly and muttered
"Grindelwald," in fearful voices when Hagrid and I had stumbled back
into the Three Broomsticks with Towser and tried to describe what we'd
found.
This terrible thing, happening on the outskirts of the village and
so close to the school, horrified everyone who knew of it. The incident
was hushed up as much as possible.
In the days that followed Hagrid and I were questioned several
times by different witches and wizards who were investigating the
murders.
It was eventually determined that the three victims had Apparated
to the hillside from somewhere else, only to be pursued and killed.
Hagrid and I were told very little. Neither of us were
particularly inclined to go nosing about for more answers. Hagrid was
too upset over Belle's death and both of us were numb with shock.
*******
Our questioning took place in the Transfiguration Master's office.
Professor Dumbledore always stayed with us while we were questioned.
This time, we'd been joined by Mr. Ogg and Mr. Pringle as well.
"You boys had no business leaving the road!" Pringle snarled at us
when the questioning was over and the strange wizards had gone. "It's
not your place to meddle with such Dark and terrible things, either one
of you!
"What were you *thinking?*" the old caretaker raged. "One of you
is as helpless as a Muggle and the other one is as brainless as a Troll!
I ought to beat both of you bloody! Don't you know that you brats could
have been KILLED?"
I cringed. I'd never heard Mr. Pringle sound so savage. He'd been
in shock himself over the past couple of days, unusually quiet and
distracted. Now he seemed like himself, only more so.
"Apollyon!" the Transfiguration Master's deep voice was stern.
"Hagrid and Filch have done nothing wrong!
"Quite the opposite," Dumbledore continued, his tone softening as
he looked at us. "Hagrid wanted to aid those in peril and Filch would
not allow any child in his charge to walk alone into danger. It seems to
me that you and Ogg have taught your apprentices their proper
responsibilities most diligently."
Ogg nodded, studying Hagrid with mingled pride and concern, but
Pringle was still scowling at us.
"With respect, Professor, it still falls to us to keep the pair of
them safe," the caretaker said, firmly, getting himself under better
control.
Pringle truly wouldn't feel that he'd done his job unless he
punished us. The old man looked from Hagrid to me and growled, "There'll
be no more visits to the pub for either of you, until further notice!"
I wasn't too distressed on my own account. But the dismay on
Hagrid's already sad face troubled me.
"Filch! Come! We have work to do!" Pringle snarled.
"He'll be along in a moment, Apollyon," Dumbledore promised the
caretaker. "I'd like a brief word with him first."
The Transfiguration Master was standing with his hand on Hagrid's
shoulder.
"Don't fret, lad," Ogg said to Hagrid in a gruff, comforting voice
after Pringle had gone into the corridor. "Apollyon will change his mind
about the pub in a week or two if I keep at him. And I will."
A few moments later, when Hagrid and Ogg had also left, I was
alone with the Transfiguration Master.
All of the Professors at Hogwarts were powerful witches and
wizards, but Dumbledore was in a class by himself. The strength of his
magic burned with such fierce intensity. He had never spoken a harsh
word to me, but he frightened me all the same.
"Please, look at me, Mr. Filch. You've been here at Hogwarts since
September, and I don't think I've ever actually seen your face."
Dumbledore's voice was kind. When I raised my head, he smiled at
me. "Have a seat," he said.
Nervously, I obeyed.
"What did you wish to speak to me about, sir?" I murmured.
"Hagrid," he said, quietly. "The boy means a great deal to me. For
now, he has no thought beyond mourning the loss of poor brave Belle. He
does not realize that you probably saved his life. But I realize it.
Thank you for looking after him. It isn't the first time that you've
done so."
Blushing with embarrassment, I stared down at his desk. It was
terribly cluttered, which made him seem more human and a bit less
terrifying.
"Hagrid's all right," I said, gruffly. "Maybe he'll have more
sense when he's older."
I felt brave enough to look at Dumbledore again. His eyes were
twinkling as if I'd said something amusing. The expression on his face
was warm and approving.
I felt a rush of pleasure when I thought about what he'd said.
Everyone had always treated me as a boy, but Dumbledore spoke as if he
truly saw me as someone grown-up and responsible.
"Sir?" I said, feeling braver still, "perhaps Mr. Pringle is
right? Maybe it's not such a good idea to allow Hagrid to visit the
Three Broomsticks? I know the boy enjoys it, but considering what
happened..."
"You have a point, Mr. Filch," Dumbledore said, gravely. My
opinion really did mean something to him! "But, Mr. Ogg and I both feel
that Hagrid needs to find companionship and acceptance somewhere *other*
than in the Forest."
"Oh," I said, pausing to consider this.
I supposed that he had a point too. It was better for Hagrid to be
with people than to spend his time playing with werewolves and large
clicking things that had too many legs.
"A good solution might be if Mr. Pringle and Mr. Ogg would let us
stay at the pub until they're ready to leave," I ventured. "Three of us
might have an easier time keeping Hagrid out of trouble. But Mr. Pringle
would never allow such a thing."
Dumbledore smiled. "No, I agree that would not be likely. Though I
wouldn't be at all surprised if Apollyon lets Ogg convince him that they
ought to leave the pub earlier to see you and Hagrid home. Poor
Apollyon. He's blaming himself for what could have happened, you know."
I did know. "He only sent us home early because he was trying to
look out for us," I said. "It's not his fault."
Frowning, I continued. "I can't tell him so, of course. He'll
think I'm out of bounds and then he'll punish me. I'll just try to tread
lightly until he's feeling better."
Dumbledore continued to look at me as if he approved of what he
saw.
I sat up a bit straighter, pleased that he was interested in my
opinions. In spite of what had happened and the awful things I'd seen, I
felt almost happy. Imagine a wizard with all his power, speaking to me
as if I was someone who mattered!
END OF CHAPTER SIX
(In memory of Richard Harris, who was such a kind, comforting
Dumbledore.)
Author's Notes:
My thanks to Alchemine, whose description of the aftermath of one of
Grindelwald's attacks provided the inspiration for Filch and Hagrid's
brush with Darkness.
My thanks to everyone who reviewed "A Squib Without A Clue!"
aniwda: Thank you!!
Aftertaste of a Razorblade: Thank you!!
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! No, Filch hasn't yet been convinced that
Harry's Cloak exists. When he is convinced, he will keep the promise
that he made to Snape. (This will happen in the forthcoming story "Squib
Summer.")
Saphron: Thank you!!
oO WTH: Thank you!!
Alla: Thank you!!
Snapefan51: But Moody wasn't really himself in this story... he was
Barty Crouch, Junior, who did seem to have too much fun tormenting poor
Severus.
Fetch: Thank you!!
AET: Thank you!! Filch will discuss the matter of Harry's Invisibility
Cloak with Dumbledore in "Squib Summer," which will hopefully be posted
soon.
GeEtErZ: Thank you!!
Shadowycat: Thank you!! I really like your description of Dumbledore as
someone playing a chess game about ten moves ahead of his opponent.
Jelsemium: Thank you, Pardner!!
My thanks to those who have reviewed Chapter Five of "Squib Apprentice"
since the last time I said thanks!:
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! Yes, Tom used a Memory Charm on Filch. It
may not have been necessary, since Argus was already nearly delirious
from the poison.
My take on Hagrid's view of Tom is that Hagrid saw Tom as most people
saw him; the Perfect Prefect and Head Boy who was good at everything.
Hagrid thinks that Tom just wouldn't LISTEN to him when he tried to
explain that poor Aragog was innocent. Hagrid's not bitter, but he's not
too fond of Tommy-boy either.
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, I can see Dumbledore spending years
defending poor Hagrid's innocence. Filch's jumbled memories are due to
the combined effects of a Memory Charm (I should have been more clear
about that 'surge of power') and the fever.
Did the burst blood vessel in your eye hurt? I don't like shoveling snow
either.
RADKA: Thank you!! Dippet wasn't a bad person, but he certainly wasn't
as open-minded as Dumbledore. Yaaaay!!! Filch has his own character
section now!! I was so happy when I saw that!!
Pringle WANTS to be scary. He was probably beaten a lot as a kid himself
and thought that it gave him lots of "character."
oO WTH: Thank you!!
Redone: Thank you!! Tommy-boy definitely does underestimate Squibs,
Muggles, and Muggle-borns, but he used a Memory Charm on Filch so that
Filch doesn't remember what Riddle told him.
Filch's relationship with Snape when the troubled young former Death
Eater first returns to Hogwarts? Oooh, that's an interesting thought!
I'll have to see what ideas come to mind....
Emma: Thank you!! Olive Hornsby was the tormentor of poor Moaning
Myrtle.