Argus's trunk was packed. He smiled at it. It was neat and clean. He liked things clean. When they weren't orderly, it made him anxious, and when he was anxious, things got out of hand. So, he made sure everything he owned was well kept, and, to his mother's joy, made sure everything else in the house was too. Oddly enough, he never cleaned his prize possession. In fact, she could barely be called a possession at all. She was a bright cat and, really, who could own a cat anyway. Mrs. Noris seemed to have the same opinion of cleanliness as Argus. She too cleaned obsessively, though she tended to clean herself. There was something soothing about the way she would lick her fur slowly, following a pattern as if trimming a lawn. Argus tried to repeat such actions when dusting-- that is, he moved the duster slowly in a pattern. Mopping too. It was a very nice way to relieve stress.
"Ready, Mrs. Noris?" he whispered, smiling softly. Perhaps by coincidence, she meowed affectionately, and rubbed against his leg. Then, holding her head high, she climbed into her carrier. Some cats thought it was degrading to ride in a kitty-carrier. Mrs. Noris, however, thought it a luxury; Argus going out of his way to make sure she was safe, and then carrying her so she wouldn't have to walk. It represented her equality with him. Argus liked equality. Having things even was soothing.
He opened the door, and just like that, trunk in arm, he left. He didn't look back, he just held gently onto the kitty-carrier. Mrs. Noris, meanwhile, kept trying to catch a last glimpse of the house that Argus had seen enough of. She was being bumped up and down, though, so her vision was a blur, and she eventually gave up.
It was not long before they arrived at his fathers house. A week was not a long time at all. He'd used his vast knowledge of the muggle world to transport him there, and as if by a different sort of magic, he was knocking at the door. It wasn't a grand house, but it wasn't feeble either. It stood proudly but was rather small in size. It was a particular shade of blue that reminded Argus of something. A light gray blue he had seen somewhere before. Almost the ocean, but not green enough.
Filch saw a doorbell and pressed, but instead of hearing the ringing of bells he heard the ringing of a voice. It was, indeed, musical. "Coming!" It was clearly a witch's voice, and a happy one at that. A moment later the door opened, and Argus was greeted by the owner of the voice.
"Oh, hello!" she said, sounded surprised but not exactly displeased. Laughing to herself, she said, "Why, for a moment there I thought you were Pa. He's not due 'till six, of course, but you looked sort of like him, well look sort of like him, when I saw you just barely." She stumbled over her words, and was thankful when Argus changed the subject.
"Pa?" he asked. It was the name they had given back at, well, his old house, to the grumpy old gnome who lived in the garden. He was always muttering things, and was under the illusion that he owned the house.
"Oh, yes, why," the witch, just barely old enough to be his mother, a pretty ginger, said, pink rising in her cheeks, "Alphycus, I mean. Are-are you..." she tried to think through her words before she said them, now glowing with embarrassment, "Who are you?" she decided finally.
"My name is Argus Filch," he told her calmly. He wished she wouldn't keep acting to embarrassed, it was making him anxious.
"Oh! Oh, I thought, well, you do look like," she said, suddenly grinning broadly. "I'm your step-mother!" she announced excitedly, "Ellega! Oh, I've heard so much about you! Your father is so proud! You've just graduated Hogwarts, right?" Before he could lie she nodded, "Yes, yes, oh we've been meaning to call but-" she grinned broader, hiding what she was about to say, "Anyway, that's beside the point. Do come in! Alphycus will be in at six! Only about a half an hour, I should think."
It was more marvelous than he could have imagined, which was exactly why he hesitated to walk through the door frame. He didn't want to brace himself to be let down again.
Author's Note: Thanks to all those who've been reading. I know the chapters are rather short, for that I apologize, you see I don't think Filch is the sort who remembers things while lavishing with great detail. Anyway, to those who've already reviewed, golly, I'm flattered, and glad you're enjoying it so far. I hope you continue to be pleased as I continue to write! :)