Title"Filch Files"
Author: Adhara1
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights associated with Harry Potter. I am not in any way profiting from posting Harry Potter fanfiction, save for morale boosters from friendly reviewers every now and again!
Rating: PG-13/Warning: This fic contains some very mild elements of suggested slash. If you have a problem with slash and it is not to your liking, simply do not read the story. Any flames will be used to amuse myself and other fellow pyros.
Author's Note: This is just a little fanfic I wrote just to spite my boredom. I decided to focus the story on Argus Filch, an interesting, yet seldom explored character of the Harry Potter series. Because even the smallest characters deserve their own fanfic.
Dedications: This one is for my iPod mini, Tchaikovsky, the best MP3 player a girl could have: You're the only one that appreciates a good mix of hard rock and classic instrumental masterpieces.
Filch Files:
There was trouble roaming the dark hallways of Hogwarts at one o'clock in the morning. There was trouble, alright, and Argus Filch could smell it from a mile (or rather, half a castle) away.
Argus scuttled hastily to his corner office. Not even the old war wound could slow him as the thrill of the hunt rushed through his veins.
"Oh, there'll be sorry! Never should have messed with Filch, they shouldn't." His swift jogging slowed as he approached his office. "Mrs. Norris, come on, now. There's some troublemakers about in our castle, there are"
Mrs. Norris appeared next to Filch from out of the shadows at the call of her name. The slanted feline eyes peered suspiciously out at the crazed janitor.
"There you are, my love" he cooed, bending down and gingerly scooping the cat into his arms. "Yes, precious, a treat for us, hmm" he said, his voice hoarse.
Just then a muffled cry echoed throughout the deserted hallway. Startled, Filch flung a screeching cat out of his scaly arms.
"Going to wake up the whole castle if we don't hurry! We must get going, Mrs. Norris" he winked at his agile companion. "Our prize lies in the west hall, by the sounds of it."
Filch's office door opened to reveal a dark chamber that smelled faintly of mildew and sweat. Filch stumbled forward into the inky abyss, groping for the light switch.
"Owwww" he howled as his foot connected with something hard and metal and sent the object crashing into a stack of books nearby. He reached the light switch at last and clasped his hands in anticipation. A large flashlight was lifted from the desk and attached to Filch's belt. As he made his way out of the room, his eye caught on something hanging on the far wall. A large assortment of chains and whips glittered back at him. His hand strayed from his side and outstretched in front of him longingly.
"If only we were back to the good old days. You strayed the halls past curfew back then, you were sporting a red bum or bloodied wrist by morning. Might now be too late to convince Dumbledore that all that these troublemakers need is a good whippin'. Ah, just the feel that leather strap in my hands again..."
Filch snapped back suddenly and found himself poised and ready for battle.
Argus Filch made his way down the west hall, flashlight in his unsteady hand and Mrs. Norris trailing steadily behind.
"Come out, come out, you scheming little ingrates. You can't fool me" he whispered into the darkness. There was another cry, this one louder, followed by the scuffing of shoes on Filch's freshly polished floors.
"Out past curfew is one thing, but destroying my sparkling floors... that is quite another. Strike two, little mischief makers" he rasped in a voice under his breath, more to himself than anyone in particular. "Maybe two offenses are enough to get my torture policy reinstated, hmm? We'll see, we'll see."
The culprits were just around the corner, Argus decided. Yes, and here comes the fun part, he thought to himself, smirking.
He whirled around the corner and flicked the flashlight on.
"I got ya" his voice rang throughout the nearly empty hallway.
And it was then that the image clicked in his brain: the young Black kid and his werewolf friend...together in a rather suggestive embrace.
The couple immediately leapt apart upon hearing Filch's war cry. Black wiped his hand across his mouth and Filch couldn't help but notice that the Lupin child was missing a good many buttons on his shirt.
"Mr. Filch..." began the raven-haired one"why, uh, hello. We were just..."
"Yes, we didn't mean to...uh..."
"You see, what Remus is trying to say is that..."
Filch felt his cheeks burning as the situation's awkwardness kept climbing higher and higher. "Right, well, hmm... yes, that's... okay. I was just...I thought...So you two are...never mind. Just...just go back to bed, hmm"
At that point all three males donned a flush similar to the boy's scarlet Gryffindor robes.
"Oh, sure" Lupin nodded fervently.
"Yah, of course. So we'll just... we'll just go then."
"Please" Filch said sincerely.
Smirking, Sirius grabbed Remus' hand. "Come on."
Filch retreated back to his quarters minutes later, his face still burning in his hands.
"You know, Mrs. Norris... somehow hunting the halls for wandering students has just lost its appeal."
Author's Note: Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated, especially constructive ones. So please; review, review, review!