Filch's Nerves Were Made of Paper / A Squib's Journey Was a Hard One

You let me suffer years of abuse at the Dursley family's home for your own purposes, and then exaggerated the dangers of suppressing magic in front of Hermione's foster parents to trick her into coming to Hogwarts. How is that not meddling?!

(This child really has developed a prejudice against me and the Wizarding World...)

Dumbledore perfectly caught the resentment hidden in Harry's eyes, and quickly understood why Harry, who should have been cautious, was acting so recklessly.

The Ministry of Magic's earlier blunder had clearly stirred up Harry's hatred. Add the Royal Family and the government fanning the flames, and it was obvious he had no fondness for Hogwarts—or for him, the headmaster.

All this troublemaking was really an attempt to drop out. Or rather, he had never wanted to attend Hogwarts in the first place!

But for someone's sake, he had no choice but to come.

Thinking of the letter he had received from Ollivander some time ago, Dumbledore began to form a plan.

Harry's convictions had been strong enough to influence the will of the Holly Wand, making it actively choose another master. That said a great deal!

Hermione Granger, a gifted witch born to a Muggle family, was likely the key to mending the bitter relationship between Harry and himself!

"Attention, everyone. I have a few things to say." Having figured out what lay at the heart of the matter, Dumbledore walked past Harry and addressed the entire Great Hall in a solemn voice. "There are a few matters I should have announced after the Sorting Ceremony, once you'd all eaten your fill. But it seems I must bring them up early."

"First, a warning to all first-years: no students are permitted to enter the school's Forbidden Forest! Some of you in the upper years would do well to remember that, too!"

As he spoke, Dumbledore glanced at a certain pair of red-haired twins at the Gryffindor table. They had been the loudest of all when Harry set the Sorting Hat on fire~

"Also, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, asked me to remind you not to perform magic in the corridors between classes."

"Next, something of the utmost importance: if you don't want to meet with an accident, or even die a painful death, do not enter the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor!"

"Lastly... Mr. Harry Granger, you have just committed an unforgivable violation of school rules. I must therefore impose the harshest punishment. Ravenclaw will lose one hundred points for your wanton behavior!"

"Also..." Dumbledore looked around the room, then settled his gaze on the somewhat disheveled caretaker.

"Mr. Filch, Harry Granger cannot remain at the feast. He must be put in detention at once. But since this is his first day at school, please escort him to your office instead. And make absolutely sure... that you keep an eye on him all night!!"

Chapter 34: Filch's Nerves Were Made of Paper

On his first day at school, he had set fire to the Sorting Hat, cost his House a hundred points, and been put in detention...

In the decades Argus Filch had worked as Hogwarts' caretaker, Harry was without a doubt the most malicious troublemaker he had ever encountered!

What made him even angrier was that, since Dumbledore had ordered him to supervise Harry himself, Filch couldn't take him to the dungeons and had to bring him to his own quarters instead.

That meant Filch's feast was ruined.

It was the lavish welcome dinner for the new students... For Filch, food of that quality was something he got to eat only once a year.

He'd even planned to sneak some back to share with his beloved cat, Mrs. Norris. But now... it had all gone to waste!

"Damn little brat, get in there, now!!"

Filch grumbled the whole way, then finally dragged Harry by the clothes back to his caretaker's hut and shoved him inside.

The moment he entered, Harry wrinkled his nose almost imperceptibly. The smell of kerosene mixed with grilled fish inside the hut made him a little uncomfortable.

The oil lamp flickered dimly, its light occasionally spilling across the rows of filing cabinets.

In the scattered light, Harry could make out labels like "Confiscated" and "Misconduct."

It looked like this was Filch's office.

"Meow~"

A skinny, dull-coated tabby appeared in front of Harry. Perhaps because it was so thin, its eyes bulged like light bulbs, and its crimson pupils held nothing but hostility.

Harry didn't judge it by its looks, though. Instead, he gave it a friendly smile.

During the years he'd spent cooped up at the Dursley family's home, Mrs. Figg's cats had been one of the few things that brightened his life. He had never been stingy with his kindness toward cats.

That was why he had always taken good care of Crookshanks, despite its broad, flat face and bowlegs—features that made everyone else dislike it.

He liked cats to begin with, and besides, he loved what Hermione loved.

"Mrs. Norris, stay away from that little monster!" Filch shouted angrily from the doorway. "He's dangerous. He just ruined the Sorting Ceremony we've been looking forward to all year!"

"Meow~" The tabby, Mrs. Norris, studied Harry curiously for a while. A look of understanding even appeared on its face.

As a clever cat, Mrs. Norris knew that her owner was happiest on this day each year. Not only could he enjoy delicious food, he could also display his authority as the "discipline master" in front of the new students.

But this human child had completely ruined her owner's annual celebration. Her owner would probably be miserable for the rest of the year.

"Hmm, it's a bit small, but it'll do."

Filch glared at him from nearby, but Harry showed no sign that he knew he was in detention. Instead, he surveyed the room and started planning where he'd sleep that night.

A lot of the filing cabinets were detachable. He could put them together to make a bed, which would be better than sleeping on the floor.

"Kid, I'm warning you to behave!" Filch rushed over and grabbed Harry by the collar. "Do you know what kind of situation you're in? Look up and see for yourself. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye on you, which means... I can hang you from the ceiling all night long!!"

"Huh, you've got quite a collection~"

Following Filch's pointing finger, Harry saw several sets of gleaming chains and handcuffs hanging from the ceiling, glittering in the lamplight.

They even had equipment like this?

Harry hadn't expected the real Hogwarts to be so into punishing students physically~

Restraints, shackles, and the like...

But Harry wasn't going to let Filch use any of that junk on him!

"Mr. Filch... I suggest you let go of me. Now."

"Ugh!" Filch suddenly felt a pinprick of pain in his palm and hastily released Harry's collar.

Only then did he notice that a strange patch of blood had appeared on his palm!

"What did you do?!" Filch demanded warily, covering his hand, but he didn't dare go near Harry again.

"Nothing. I was just reminding you not to be so rude." Harry had already formed certain misconceptions about Filch, and had no intention of showing him any respect. "I might as well tell you plainly: I don't want to go to school here at all. If I can get myself expelled, that'd actually be better for me!"

"You... What did you say?!" Filch's eyes widened in alarm. For the first time, he truly sensed something dangerous about Harry!

What Filch didn't know was that the thing he sensed was an Obscurus.

Even without a wand in hand, Harry had spent over a year learning to control his Obscurus. Punishing Filch—a spiteful old man who harbored inexplicable hostility toward him and had even tried to threaten him with restraints—wouldn't be difficult at all!

"If you're upset by what I just said, you can tell Headmaster Dumbledore yourself. Also..."

Seeing that he had successfully cowed Filch, Harry continued in a threatening tone. "For someone who wants to drop out, school rules are just decorations. But for you, if you lose the restraints those rules provide, then the threats you just made could easily become... jokes that put you in danger!!"

"You? You little brat... You, and all you students... Why? Why are you all such little brats?! Little brats!!"

Actually, Harry had only meant to threaten Filch and warn him that he could get hurt if he went too far. He hadn't expected Filch to suddenly fall apart...

"What's going on?"

Watching Filch curse nonstop, throw things around in a rage, and even bang his head against the wall, Harry was completely baffled.

Wait... Had what he'd just said really hit that hard?

"Meow!!" Even Mrs. Norris was baring her teeth at Harry in displeasure now.

"Um... Mr. Filch, if I said something too harsh, you can just tell me. There's no need to upset yourself like this..."

"Get out!!!"

Seeing that the little old man was so touchy, Harry tried to ease the tension, feeling a little guilty. But Filch wouldn't accept his apology.

"Ugh..."

After that roar, Harry even heard a low, muffled sob!

He was crying?

Harry was utterly bewildered. Filch was a member of the staff, after all. How could he have less emotional resilience than an ordinary child?

Chapter 35: A Squib's Journey Was a Hard One

"Mr. Filch, can we stop crying for a minute...?"

Inside the caretaker's hut, Harry spent ages trying to reason with him while dodging Mrs. Norris's outraged claws. But Filch was still at it, crouched in the corner with a hoarse voice, wailing endlessly.

Harry didn't really want to deal with him, but a grown man crying like a scorned wife wasn't just ugly—it was downright grating. If he kept wailing like this, would Harry even get any sleep tonight?

"Fine, looks like I'll have to use this trick~"

With a helpless shrug, Harry ran a hand over his Space Ring and pulled out his... suitcase.

That's right, Harry had brought two suitcases.

The one he'd put on the train held nothing but his school uniform, bedding, and textbooks he had already memorized so thoroughly he wouldn't need to use them.

All his truly important "treasures" were in the other suitcase, which he had kept hidden in his Space Ring.

That alone showed that Harry had been ready to run away at any moment~

"Meow?! Meow!"

Filch was crouched in the corner, crying to himself, and hadn't noticed what Harry was doing. Mrs. Norris, however, had kept her eyes on Harry the whole time, so the sudden appearance of the suitcase startled her.

But then she sniffed curiously, and her eyes lit up!

Mrs. Norris caught a wonderfully tempting smell coming from Harry's suitcase!

"Meow... Meow!"

She began pawing restlessly at the floor. It was the most delicious smell she had ever encountered in her life. The aroma kept wafting into her nose, making her brain feel like it was about to short-circuit!

If Harry had been her owner, Mrs. Norris might have rolled around on the spot and rubbed up against him, begging for a treat~

"Hey, you've got a sharp nose. Could you have Kneazle blood, like Crookshanks?"

Harry grinned at Mrs. Norris, who was swallowing eagerly. He pulled a small jar from his suitcase, opened it, and pushed it in front of her.

"Try this. I think it tastes pretty good..."

"Mrs. Norris, stay away from him! You little bastard, don't you dare feed my Mrs. Norris some strange food!!"

Hearing that Harry meant to feed his beloved cat something of dubious origin, Filch stopped crying and hurried over with a furious expression.

"It's just a cat treat. Do you have to react so strongly?" Harry shot Filch an annoyed look. "Just look at how skinny she is! Honestly, you can't even feed her properly, but you won't let anyone else do it~"

Mrs. Norris was a Maine Coon, a breed known as the gentle giant. They were gentle and understanding, and grew large and beautiful. They were beloved by cat lovers everywhere.

Yet Filch had let her become scrawny and gaunt. She hadn't grown to her proper size, and even her beautiful fur was greasy and matted. It was obvious she'd suffered from long-term malnutrition and a lack of baths.

"Meow!" She seemed unable to resist the smell any longer. Mrs. Norris ignored Filch's protests and buried her face in the jar, eating with gusto.

"What... exactly are you feeding Mrs. Norris?"

Filch sniffed involuntarily. He could smell the delicious aroma from the jar now, and saw the generous chunks of meat inside. A twinge of envy rose in his heart.

Oh my, that was fresh meat! Even he didn't get food that good!

"I made the cat food myself, using only quality ingredients~" Harry explained with a smile. "Hermione's Crookshanks treasures this stuff. If it knew I'd fed it to another cat, it'd bare its teeth at me for sure."

Seeing how happily she was eating, Harry cautiously stroked the back of Mrs. Norris's neck. Her body trembled slightly, but she didn't react strongly.

"Ha, watching her eat is making me hungry. I really should get something to eat, too."

As he spoke, Harry began taking ingredients out of his suitcase. Before long, he had covered Filch's desk with them.

Most of the ingredients had already been washed and prepared, ready to use as soon as he opened the packaging. There was meat, vegetables, and tofu in every variety. Filch's eyes nearly popped out of his head!

After that, Harry even took out a spirit burner, a pot, and, most importantly, an assortment of seasonings~

"Mr. Filch, could you do me a favor and light the stove? I don't have a wand with me right now." After setting up the fuel canister, Harry turned to ask Filch.

He could have used a lighter, but wanted to give Filch a chance to take part. After all, the two of them were alone in the room. It wouldn't feel right for him to eat while Filch watched.

But as soon as he asked, Filch's temper flared again!

"Oh, damn it! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?! You hateful little brat, I... I can't do magic, and I don't have a wand either!! Are you happy now?!!"

"So that's how it is?"

Harry furrowed his brow in surprise. He hadn't realized Filch was a Squib!

He had heard Scamander talk about Squibs before. They were people born into wizarding families who couldn't use magic. Mrs. Figg, whom Dumbledore had once sent to watch over him, was a Squib.

He hadn't expected to run into another one, and at Hogwarts, no less!