Henry picked up another student's essay. The worst part about this job is the grading, he mused. Throwing the clock another glance, he mentally sighed and read through the essay. I really should have thought about this before taking this job. At a glance, it was mostly wrong, but Henry saw through the terrible essay-writing skills of this particular student, and noticed that she did, at least, understand some of the theory. That much, at least, is better than some of my other students.

After that display in the Great Hall, word-of-mouth spread ridiculously fast in the halls of the castle, and Henry gained a solid chunk of new students. Unfortunately, most of them considered it a "cool" class and failed to take into account that the course was actually really intense. Their classwork was abysmal at best, and they rarely, if ever, actually paid attention in class.

Henry chose to emulate his own teachers, so Henry had stringent rules in place. Many, many of the students chose to disregard them, and were likewise surprised that Henry chose to give out point deductions and detentions like candy.

Henry didn't like doing detentions because that meant he had less free time to study. What people tended to ignore was that runes were very personally important to Henry, as they were his only grasp of magic in a magic-less world.

Wait a minute, he jumped up after finishing grading his papers. Isn't there a Squib in the castle? He knew, more than most, the pain of being the only person in any given room without the free use of magic. A man who, for most of his life, has been surrounded by magic, yet unable to grasp it. Someone who has to listen to the constant whining of wizards and witches that take their magic for granted, and had wallowed in jealousy and envy for decades.

That sounds like what I could've been.

With that comforting thought, he put his blazer on and strode out of his room, intent on finding one Argus Filch.

He found one Argus Filch lurking in the corridors, muttering to himself. What a pleasant demeanor, he idly noted.

"What? Who's there?" Filch seemed irritated. Henry tried to make himself known in as peaceful a manner as he could, but Filch's cat jumped out of his hands and hissed at Henry, who jumped.

"GAH!" Henry shouted in fear. "WHY? CAT! WHY, HOW, WHAT!" Henry realized that it was probably a horrible time for his ailurophobia to kick in as he sprinted away.

I suppose I'll have to try again some other time, Henry thought idly after he regained his breath.

"Hello, Argus," he finally managed to greet Filch as he looked anywhere but the cat in his arms.

"You, you're that new professor, aren't you?" Filch looked suspicious. "The new Squib one, what's his name..."

"Henry. Professor Henry Greengrass," Henry introduced himself. "I'd offer to shake your hand but you're holding a cat."

"Ah, what? Hold on a sec, I'll just put her down."

"Wait, no, it's really not necessary..."

"Here ya go, dearie, you can get down now." Filch let his cat out of his arms.

"WHAT NO PLEASE OH GOD GET IT AWAY FROM ME!" Henry screamed as he ran off again. Mrs. Norris turned away from the screaming professor to stare at her owner, cocking her head in apparent confusion.

Filch scratched his head. "Well, some people just ain't cat people," he shrugged.

Third time's the charm, Henry thought angrily. Third time had better be the charm.

"Hello again, Argus," he greeted Filch once again, who eyed him warily.

"You're not a cat person, are you?"

Henry laughed. "Very much not so! I'm terrified of cats."

"Really?" Filch looked dubious. "How? Cats are adorable. Why, just look at Mrs. Norris," he pet the cat in his arms.

"I can't explain it," Henry admitted honestly. "It's really the thought of touching a cat that gets me, but I just, eurgh, can't stand cats," he finished with a shiver.

After a pause, Filch snorted. "You're weird."

Henry grinned. "Very much so."

"You know you're wearing gloves, right?" Filch pointed out.

Henry looked at his hands. "So I am. It does actually help." He chuckled. "My reactions are usually much worse."

Filch sighed. "What do you want from me, boy?"

Henry reached into his pocket for a stick covered in runes. "I wanted to test something. Give this a wave, please."

Filch grabbed the stick. "It looks like a wand. You know I'm a Squib, right?"

Henry grinned. "So am I. Give it a wave, please."

Filch shook it a bit and threw it on the ground with a yelp. Mrs. Norris jumped out of his hands again.

"What just happened?"

"The ruddy thing burned me!" Filch scowled. "Was it supposed to do that? Because - wait, where did you...?"

Filch looked to his left and saw that Henry was no longer there. So he turned to his right.

Henry was perched precariously on a suit of armor, holding on for dear life.

"That's it? Just hot? Well, that's good. Probably great, even," Henry said while staring terrified at Mrs. Norris. She lifted her paw and Henry flinched.

Filch decided to give him a bit of mercy and picked up his cat. "Well, what does it mean?"

"It means," Henry decided, jumping off of the suit of armor. "It means I can probably give you some of my stuff." He picked up the stick and examined it. "Might end up making some sort of cleaning equipment for you." He flicked the stick and some of the runes started to glow. "That's weird. I'll have to examine this more."

Filch looked startled but pleased. "So I can do those magic tricks you do?"

"Eventually, yes," Henry acquiesced. "But it takes a long time to learn how to do them yourself, and they're only tricks, in the end." He sighed and frowned. "For people like you and me, that's probably the best we can get."

"You can make me magic things? So I can do spells and such?" Filch stared at him hopefully. "I've been here for roughly two decades. Tricks are more than enough."

Henry stared at him blankly, then broke out into a genuine smile. "I suppose you're right." He turned thoughtful and walked towards his room. "Expect something for Christmas, Argus."

As soon as he got comfortable at his desk, Henry pulled out the stick Filch waved days before. He stared at the rune-covered stick in contemplation. Frowning in consternation, he scribbled some equations down on paper.

Argus Filch, according to the runes, was more than capable of performing the magic tricks that Henry could do. Filch had an unusually high amount of magical residue on his body, causing him to be more attuned to the feel of magic than many other magicians that Henry had ever met. Given enough time, he could even be better than me.

Because of his constant presence in a highly-magical area, Filch had adapted his body subconsciously to feel out the magic in certain areas; a phenomenon so incredibly rare, that the only other person Henry knew of that had that ability was his partner and best friend. Henry realized that he had to teach the man how to utilize that ability consciously. He prepared a note to his friend.

Heading over to the Owlery, Henry paused and listened to the wall. What is that noise?

"...we can't get caught by anyone! Especially not Filch, he'll get us into so much trouble!"

"Hello, children!" Henry smiled. "Might I inquire politely as to what sort of eccentricity you are performing here?" He tilted his head. "Perhaps some sort of odyssey into Nyx's domain?"

The (what he assumed to be) third-year kids looked at each other. "What?"

Henry's smile dropped. "What are you doing, so late at night?"

"Well, um, we..."

"You know the rules, kids. Fifty points from each of you."

"You can't do that to us!" one of the three kids shouted, offended for some reason. Henry idly realized that fifty points was kind of a lot, but then got over it.

"Sure I can," Henry said, slightly dumbfounded. "I'm a professor."

"No you're not!" he shouted. "You're a Squib! You probably lied your way to your post! You're not even a good Professor!"

"Wow." Henry stared at the kid, mildly hurt. "You haven't even taken my class and you have such a low opinion of me."

"I'm not going to take a class from some stupid Squib," the kid ranted, and Henry stared at him in complete amusement. He stared at one of the other kids, a girl, and quirked an eyebrow. Is he serious? His message seemed to have gotten through to her, as she shook her head despondently. Or, at least, Henry assumed she was despondent. It was rather hard to tell, this late at night. The kid continued ranting, so Henry cut him off.

"I'm neither confirming nor denying those statements," Henry said, before leaning towards the kid. "But I'm also a Greengrass, and the heir incumbent, to boot. What are you going to do about it?"

The kids recoiled, but the idiot boy bravely pushed on. "You're lying! The ancient and noble house of Greengrass wouldn't lower themselves to-"

"Really?" The girl's eyes were sparkling. "So you really are related to Astoria?"

"Um, yes." Henry blinked at the non-sequitir. "I'm her older brother."

"Prove it!" that idiot boy shouted. Henry heard a movement in the corner of the hallway, but chose to ignore it. "Astoria is our friend and..." He fell silent.

"If she's your friend, why isn't she here with you?"

"She's under suspicion for being related to a Squib," another boy replied coolly. "The House is merely ignoring her for the moment, but it may eventually turn into hostilities." The boy was remarkably eloquent, Henry idly thought.

"That's stupid," Henry said bluntly, ignoring the surprise of the children. "You can't choose your family, much like you can't choose the House you're Sorted to. And so what if Astoria is related to me? I'm the heir, chosen by the current head himself. She doesn't really have a choice."

"You obviously tricked the head, then," the insufferable boy continued, but Henry noticed that his anger was waning.

"Um, no." Henry blinked again. "How would I do that? You just said I was a Squib." He raised an eyebrow. "Or am I suddenly somehow capable of tricking a wizard with my Squib powers? Because, I mean, it's one or the other."

The insufferable boy stopped looking angry, and the girl spoke again. "You really are Astoria's brother," she looked at him in awe. "Astoria talks exactly like you."

Henry laughed. "Oh, man, I am so rubbing that in her face next time I talk to her." Then he frowned. "Wait. You're her friends?"

"Um...yes?"

"Why are you not over there consoling her?" Henry asked, completely blasé. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't exactly like being alone like Daphne does. If anything, you should be spending your time being friends with her instead of whatever you're doing here."

"We're here because we're trying to help her!" the girl insisted. "We're going to convince Professor Snape to help her."

Henry winced. "Ouch. Seems like you don't really like her." The kids looked at each other, confused and angry, and Henry explained. "You're over here plotting something that may or may not get you in more trouble, and meanwhile, my sister is probably feeling the acute pangs of loneliness. You should be supporting her directly, but instead you're over here not...really doing anything productive."

"But-" the girl started to interject, but Henry continued.

"To make matters worse, other people are tormenting her, and you're over here leaving her to fend for herself." Henry frowned.

"It's not like we can openly support her," the angry boy said, oddly subdued. Henry raised an eyebrow.

"Then don't." The kids looked at each other again. Henry merely tilted his head back. "You're Slytherins. Do something cunning, not this...ridiculously brash behavior that would merely make the other snakes dislike you even more. Do something else, like..." He tilted his head in another direction. "Support her from the shadows. That's what Slytherins should do, after all." Henry grinned suddenly. "And this whole 'being harassed by other Slytherins' is entirely silly. I'm going to talk to Severus later, anyway, to discuss my sisters. So there was really no reason for you to be out here."

The kids looked more excited, and as they were discussing their new plans in plain sight, Henry coughed, causing them to look at him. "Um. You should plan in more hidden spots, and always be on the lookout, I guess? I mean, you'll never know who's listening to you." He pointed to the direction of the corner of the hallway. "For instance, someone could be over there, listening to you, getting information on whatever you're trying to do, and then could make counter-plans to make sure they all backfire. Not...not really a good idea here." He scratched the back of his head, then relaxed. "Ah, well, anyway, fifty points each for helping a friend." The kids all beamed, and Henry groaned. "I still hate you all," he muttered, but the kids simply smiled more at him. "Bah, get out of here, you brats." They scampered away excitedly.

As soon as they were out of sight, Henry called out, "Hello, Argus."

Filch rounded the corner, Mrs. Norris in hand, as he gazed skeptically upon the smiling, but still nervous, visage of the only other Squib in Hogwarts. "Who were you talking to?"

"You know who I was talking to," Henry retorted. "I'm not stupid, I heard you over there." Filch looked sheepish.

"Ah, you got me." Filch then shot an accusing glare at him. "That was some advice you gave them. 'Plan in hidden spots'? Are you trying to make my job harder for me?" d "What? No!" Henry looked offended. "I'm not trying to do anything like that! Besides, you guys know everything there is to know about the castle."

Filch merely hummed. "You know, Dolores came up to me the other day and said something similar to that." Henry's face blanked. "I thought so. You don't like her, do you?"

"To be fair, she started it," Henry retorted, but he was entirely expressionless. Filch wondered how deeply his hatred ran. "There is the small little problem that she almost certainly detests me, through no fault of my own, but besides that, the laws she passes as the Senior Undersecretary are geared towards the suppression of other magical beings. Anyone who willingly supports the slavery of any other sentient creature, whether it be Being or not, is someone who should be treated with disgust, not worship." Then the life came back to his eyes, and Henry sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Um, sorry about that. I don't really like her."

"Yes, I gathered that," Filch replied blandly.

"Not going to go after them?" Henry asked.

"Bah, I couldn't catch them, anyway. I'm far too old," Filch said, grinning. Or at least Henry assumed it was a grin.

Henry blinked. "Did you just make a joke?"

Filch cackled. "You'll never know, boy!"

As Filch walked away, Henry shook off his shock and chased after him. "Wait, Argus! Was that a joke? I swear you just made a joke! You never joke!"

After hearing Filch's parting call ("You just haven't seen me joke before!") Henry shook his head. Filch seemed a lot more happy whenever he was around, Henry thought, and he made a mental note to try to keep in contact with him.

Later that night, before going to bed, Henry looked into his coat pocket and found the letter he forgot to send. He groaned. "Fine, I'll do it tomorrow."