Muggle Studies, task 4: Write about someone who just wants to be loved.
Balloon: Argus Filch
Buttons: ArgusIrma
Word Count: 529
Irma scowls when she hears the soft footsteps between the shelves. Her dark eyes flicker to the slowly ticking clock, confirming that it's nearly curfew. Any late stragglers should at least be in the process of checking their books out, not perusing the shelves.
She clears her throat loudly and pointedly. The footsteps come to a stop, and she waits. No sheepish teenagers step out from between the shelves with books in their hands and apologetic smiles on their faces. With a groan, the librarian taps her long, arthritic fingers against the countertop. "Library is closing soon," she calls.
Still no answer, no acknowledgment at all. Irma tucks her short, greying hair behind her ears and stalks off. One day, she hopes to be able to enjoy her time in the library without students being an absolute pain. Unfortunately, she only tends to find peace during the summer, and those glorious moments are often interrupted by members of the staff.
"I said the library is about to close," she says again, her tone sharper now.
She doesn't find a student wandering the aisles and browsing for books. Instead, Argus Filch stands before her, his cheeks glowing a soft crimson. He hastily tries to shove the book back onto the shelf, but it falls to the floor. "Don't worry yourself with that, Irma," he says as she starts to reach for the book. "I've got it."
Their hands touch, and she feels a strange flutter within her stomach. Blushing, she glances down and frowns. "Why are you looking into love magic, Argus? You're a… You…" She clears her throat and offers him a small, apologetic smile.
The caretaker snatches the book from the floor and stands up straight again; Irma follows his lead. His thumb brushes over the hot pink spine of the book, tracing over the weathered silver letters. "I hoped to find something that wasn't magic. Something a Squib could do."
Their eyes meet, and she understands. She can't imagine how lonely he must be. They've worked with each other for what feels like an eternity, and she has never really seen him in the company of anyone other than that insufferable cat who is always at his side. Argus has never fit in; being a Squib must have made him feel so isolated from the rest of the castle.
"I just want to be loved," he whispers, and his voice is so soft that Irma isn't sure that he's spoken at all.
"You don't need a book for that, Argus." She rests her hand lightly against his cheek. "I…"
Before she convince herself that it's a bad idea, she leans in closer, pressing a kiss to his thin, scowling lips. He relaxes against her, his hands cupping her face. After a few moments, they pull apart, and his brown eyes glisten.
"You…?"
Irma nods. "I was always afraid to tell you. Now, I wish I would have done it sooner."
He pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her slim frame. Their lips meet again, and she smiles into it. He doesn't have to be alone anymore; she can finally show him the love he has craved.
