At the thought, Filch took a deep breath and continued patrolling the castle.
Meow!
As though sensing Filch's unease, Mrs. Norris gave a comforting cry.
She poked her head out from beside Filch's feet and rubbed her ears against his trouser leg.
Filch stopped and slowly bent down, looking at Mrs. Norris as he shook his head. "It's all right, Mrs. Norris."
Mrs. Norris leaped up nimbly, and he opened his arms, catching her.
He scratched Mrs. Norris under the chin with his fingers. "It's all right! I'm fine now!"
Meow!
Mrs. Norris answered, naturally nestling into the crook of his arm and letting out a purring sound.
He lowered his head, buried his face in Mrs. Norris's fur, and took a deep breath.
Sensing that familiar scent, he felt his mood settle considerably compared to just now.
Though he trusted Vizet very much, he had no confidence in himself.
He worried that all his ailments, or things like having been a Squib for too long, would affect the transformation process.
That worry had even turned into fear—fear of dawn's arrival, fear that when the time came to begin the transformation, Vizet would tell him that he still was not suited for it.
And yet he was also looking forward to it madly, looking forward to the possibility that his long, gray life might be about to welcome its first true ray of dawn.
In truth, it was already the small hours of the morning, and even Fred and George, energetic as they were, would not be causing trouble in the castle.
Even so, after walking all night, his legs hurt so badly that cold sweat broke out on him, yet he still persisted in patrolling.
The reason he did this was very simple.
He could not sleep!
He felt