Disclaimer: All JK's. I don't think anyone but her would want to own Filch.

A/NThis story is for a challenge in FictionNet, which is a forum for aspiring writers and Harry Potter fans. If you are interested in joining the url is sycotic dot org / fnet (without the spaces). Say Sierra or kissofcuteness sent you.

These were the conditions:

Write a multi-chaptered fanfiction set over Christmas at Hogwarts.

It can be any generation, focusing on any characters you like, but to avoid making this too easy, here are some criteria.

1. The fic must be three chapters long or more,
2. The fic cannot be a tragedy or angsty - romance, humour, maybe slight action and adventure, but no more. Make it a nice, easy Christmas fic. (For those of you who want to do a tragic one, a challenge catering to you is in the works.)
3. Include the giving of at least one Christmas present - metaphorical or literal, up to you.

In my mind I covered them all. I would also like to extend a thank you to the lovely, kind, generous, hopefully bribable, moderators who, although the closing date for the challenge was the twenty-fifth, gave me until the fifth ( I did have wonderful excuses: believed closing date was 31st, was drunk, still dizzy the day after, stayed at computer-less grandparent's place, and was roped into spending eight hours installing and watching a movie on our big screen TV)

Without any further ado:

Chapter One

A young boy sat on his rooftop; eagerly scanning the skies. He was looking for an owl, one in particular; the Hogwart's owl. Argus Filch had just turned eleven and he knew that this was his last summer at home before going to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He didn't mind that he would be away from home for so long, his parents didn't pay all that much attention to him. His mother always talked about her days at Hogwarts; maybe they'd finally have something to talk about. Argus loved to watch his mother; she was beautiful.

She would sit in front of her vanity table every evening. First she would comb her hair, it was long, down to her waist, and black as the deepest night. The silver brush would go through it once, twice, sixty, one hundred times. Then it was silk. Argus knew his place. He would take the brush from her, holding the delicate ornament with care, and then he would give her the powder brush, while holding the powder box high enough for her to reach easily. When she had finished her ablutions she was attractive. Not pretty like a young girl, or ripe as a mature woman. Her features were not symmetrical yet they fit, strangely, into a compelling face; that was what entranced him.

There it was! A tawny owl flew towards him, looking noble as it beat its wide wings. Argus could feel the thick parchment under his fingers, knew the grain of it by heart, and could visualize the contrast between the yellow paper and the acid green ink. His friend, Perpetua Fancourt, had let him see hers.

The owl reached Argus and opened its beak to deliver the letter into Argus' outstretched hands. His heart sank as he picked up a creamy envelope, addressed with calligraphy. Another party invitation, he thought glumly, at least mother will be pleased.

"Don't worry about it darling," his mother spoke absentmindedly, rumpling his hair as if he were a small lap dog. "I've already borrowed Perpetua's letter and bought your materials from Diagon Alley. We will have to go to Ollivander's though, I suppose."

"But what about my letter?" Argus demanded. "Shouldn't I have received one?"

"Lost in the mail, it happens all the time! I nearly missed the Prewett's ball last week. Mind you, that could have been an excuse, after all I wouldn't have heard of it if Mrs. Monroe hadn't told me." She shook her long mane in annoyance. "It has been lost, don't trouble your pretty little head about it."

The trip to Diagon Alley was far from successful. Not one wand in Ollivander's store had been meant, destined, for him. Ollivander had become more and more gleeful as the pile of discarded wands grew larger. Unfortunately, the pile grew slightly too large, Argus had tried all the wands in the store, and none of them had given off so much as a spark.

His mother had tossed her head and promised that the Filch's would take their business elsewhere. She had however made a concession, unable to reach Gregorovich's before the school semester started; she had purchased a Common wand. Cheaper than a Wizard's wand, the Common wand worked for all wizards but was finely tuned to none. It was a temporary substitute she had assured Argus.

"Well, off you go then," his mother patted his shoulder with some affection. "If I were you I might run a little, it helps if you're nervous."

Argus was nervous. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants before taking the handles of the trolley firmly in his grasp. He ran. People cleared out of his way as he sprinted towards the brick wall separating platforms nine and ten. Mrs. Filch groaned. There would be a massive scene when her sun disappeared. Then, the inconceivable happened, he didn't disappear!

Argus smacked into the barrier. His body flipped over the cart and he landed hard on his back. The wind was knocked out of him and he found himself struggling with asphyxiation before he was able to sit up.

"Oh my darling!" His mother ran in her heels towards him. "What did you do? She hissed when she reached him. "Are you alright?" she called in louder tones.

"I don't know," he mumbled, "I just hit the stone."

People had begun to lose interest in the fallen boy and turned back to their previous pursuits.

"Look!" Mrs. Filch pointed towards the barrier. A golden haired girl walked blithely through it. "Oh," she frowned in annoyance. "I'll just have to take you through." Grabbing his hand she yanked him through the wall.

A/N I believe I should make reviews mandatory. Hint Hint! As a special present for me :)