Chapter Three
Year after year Christmas day continued to be the same routine. Filch would wake up to discover no presents awaited him on the bottom of his bed. He had given up moping now, he knew no person really cared for him, regardless of how often Professor Dumbledore inquired as to his well-being.
Then Mrs. Norris, lamp-like eyes upturned, would jump onto the scratchy sheets and lick him. It was the only day of the year she would show him that much affection. No matter how much he petted her and spoke warmly towards her, she was still a cat, an incredibly aloof cat. That lick let him go on living. Someone loved him.
Without further celebration he would get up and prepare to stalk the corridors. After all, rules were rules, even on Christmas day. It was actually his ongoing present to Mrs. Norris for she, even more so then he, loved to catch children disobeying. It became a pleasurable game to see how many children they could catch. The unwritten rule was that a point was given every time Filch called out, "No magic in the corridors!"
A/N I thought that was happy in a twisted sort of Filch like way :)
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