A Certain Scientific Harry Potter 20

For your own ends, you let me suffer years of abuse at the Dursley house, and to trick Hermione into attending Hogwarts, you exaggerated the dangers of suppressed magic to her foster parents. Does this kind of behavior not count as reckless?!

(This child, he has truly already developed a prejudice against both me and the wizarding world...)

Dumbledore perfectly captured the resentment hidden in Harry's eyes, and he quickly understood the reason why Harry, who should have been cautious and careful, was acting so erratically.

The Ministry of Magic's previous blunder had truly ignited Harry's hatred, and with the added incitement from the Muggle royal family and government, it was clear that he held no affection for Hogwarts or for him, the headmaster.

His outburst was actually an attempt to drop out, or rather, he had never intended to attend Hogwarts in the first place!

But for the sake of someone, he had no choice but to come.

Thinking of the letter he had received from Ollivander some time ago, Dumbledore gradually formed a plan in his mind.

Harry's conviction was so strong that it could influence the will of the Holly Wand, causing it to actively choose a different master; this spoke volumes!

Hermione Granger, this Muggle-born but incredibly gifted witch, should be the key to easing the hostile relationship between himself and Harry!

"Attention, all students, I have a few words to say." Having figured out the crux of the matter, Dumbledore stepped past Harry and spoke in a deep, resonant voice to everyone in the Great Hall. "There are some notices I should have announced after the Sorting Ceremony was completed and everyone had eaten their fill, but it seems they must be brought forward."

"First, first-year students, take note: the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to all students! Some of the older students should also keep this firmly in mind!"

As he spoke, Dumbledore swept his gaze toward a pair of red-headed twins at the Gryffindor table; they had been the loudest when Harry burned the Sorting Hat earlier.

"Additionally, the caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you not to cast magic in the corridors between classes."

"Next, a point of utmost importance: if you do not wish to meet with an accident, or even a painful death, please do not enter the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor!"

"Finally... Mr. Harry Granger, you have committed an unforgivable violation of school rules. Therefore, I must impose the most severe punishment: Ravenclaw will be docked one hundred points for your reckless behavior!"

"Furthermore..." Dumbledore scanned the room, finally letting his gaze fall upon the somewhat slovenly caretaker.

"Mr. Filch, Harry Granger cannot remain at the feast. He must be placed in detention immediately. However, considering today is the first day of school, please escort him to your office. At the same time, please ensure... that you watch him all night long!!"

Chapter 34: Filch's Fragile State of Mind

Burning the Sorting Hat on the first day of school, causing his own house to lose one hundred points, and being placed in detention...

In the decades of his career as the caretaker of Hogwarts, Argus Filch considered Harry the most heinous and wicked student he had ever seen!

What made him even more furious was that because Dumbledore had ordered him to personally watch over Harry, Filch could not send him to the dungeons and had to take him to his own quarters instead.

As a result, Filch's feast was effectively ruined.

That was the lavish welcome feast for the new students... For Filch, this was the only time all year he could eat food of such quality.

He had intended to secretly pack some away to enjoy with his beloved cat, Mrs. Norris, but now... it had all gone to waste!

"You wretched troublemaker, get in there at once!!"

Filch had been cursing and grumbling the entire way, finally dragging Harry by his clothes back to his caretaker's cabin and shoving him inside.

As soon as he entered, Harry wrinkled his nose almost imperceptibly; the smell of kerosene mixed with roasted fish in the cabin made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

The oil lamp in the room flickered with a dim, yellow light, occasionally casting rays onto the rows of filing cabinets.

By the light of those scattered flames, Harry could occasionally see labels like "Confiscated" and "Disciplinary."

It seemed this place was indeed Filch's office.

"Meow~"

A scrawny, dull-colored tabby cat appeared before Harry. Perhaps because it was too thin, its cat eyes bulged like light bulbs, and its scarlet pupils were filled with unfriendly glares.

However, Harry did not judge the cat by its appearance at all; instead, he offered it a kind smile.

During the years he spent huddled in the Dursley house, the cat Mrs. Figg kept had been a rare comfort in his life, so Harry never spared his kindness toward such creatures.

This was also why, even though Crookshanks had a face everyone disliked and bowed legs, Harry still took good care of it.

He liked the animal himself, and he loved the owner by extension.

"Mrs. Norris, stay away from that bastard freshman!" Filch shouted angrily from the doorway. "He's a dangerous element; he even destroyed the Sorting Ceremony we've been looking forward to!"

"Woo~" The cat named Mrs. Norris studied Harry curiously for a moment, and a look of human-like understanding actually appeared on its face.

As a clever cat, Mrs. Norris knew very well that her master was only at his happiest on this day each year, because not only could he eat delicious food, but he could also assert his authority as the 'Dean of Discipline' in front of the new students.

Yet, this human child before them had completely ruined her master's annual joy; it was easy to imagine that her master would likely be miserable for the entire year to come.

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

Filch was glaring at him from the side, but Harry had no sense of being in detention at all; instead, he looked around the layout of the room, starting to design his sleeping arrangements for the night.

Many of the filing cabinets here were detachable; piecing them together into a bed would be a good choice, at least it would save him from sleeping on the floor.

"Boy, I warn you to behave yourself!" Filch, who had rushed over, grabbed Harry by the collar. "Do you know what your current situation is? Look up and see for yourself! Dumbledore wants me to watch you personally, which means... I could hang you from the ceiling for the entire night!!"

"Hmph, you certainly have a complete set of gear~"

Following the direction Filch pointed, Harry saw sets of gleaming chains and handcuffs, all hanging from the ceiling, shimmering in the dim light of the oil lamp.

He actually had these kinds of special tools?

Harry hadn't expected that the real Hogwarts would have such heavy-handed methods for punishing students.

Bondage, restraints, and the like...

However, Harry would not let Filch use these pieces of junk on him!

"Mr. Filch... I suggest you let go right now."

"Ugh!" Filch suddenly felt a needle-like prick in his palm, and he scrambled to release his grip on Harry's collar in a panic.

Only then did he notice that his palm had been inexplicably slashed, leaving behind a trail of blood!

"What exactly did you do?!" Filch demanded, clutching his hand warily, though he dared not approach Harry again.

"Nothing, just a reminder not to be so rude." Having already formed certain misconceptions, Harry had no intention of showing Filch any respect. "I might as well tell you plainly: I don't want to be at this school at all. If I could get myself expelled, that would be even better for me!"

"You... what did you say?!" Filch's eyes widened in alarm. In that moment, he truly felt a dangerous aura radiating from Harry!

What Filch didn't know was that this aura was called an Obscurus.

Even without a wand in hand, given Harry's control over the Obscurus for over a year now, punishing this old man who held inexplicable hostility toward him—and even harbored thoughts of using torture devices—was no difficult task at all!

"If you can't swallow what I just said, you are welcome to report it directly to Headmaster Dumbledore. Furthermore..."

Seeing that he had successfully cowed Filch, Harry continued with a threatening tone: "For someone like me who wants to be expelled, school rules are nothing but window dressing. But for you, once you lose the constraint of those rules, the threats you just made could easily become... jokes that bring danger upon yourself!!"

"You? You scoundrel... you scoundrel! You, and all you students... why? Why are you all such scoundrels! Scoundrels!!"

Truth be told, Harry only wanted to threaten Filch to warn him that being too presumptuous could get him hurt, but he hadn't expected Filch's mental state to suddenly collapse.

"What's going on?"

Watching Filch curse incessantly, throwing things to vent his frustration, and even banging his head against the wall, Harry was completely at a loss.

No... were his words just now really that piercing?

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

"Look... Mr. Filch, if I said something too harsh just now, you could just point it out. Why get so worked up over yourself..."

"Get out!!!"

Seeing that the little old man had such a volatile temper, Harry, feeling a bit guilty, tried to ease the atmosphere, but Filch refused to accept the gesture.

"Ugh..."

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

He was actually crying?

Harry was instantly bewildered. Filch was a staff member, after all; how could his mental resilience be worse than an average child's?

Chapter 35: The Hard Road of a Squib

"I say, Mr. Filch, can we stop crying for a moment..."

Inside the caretaker's office, Harry dodged the indignant claws of Mrs. Norris while trying to persuade the man with earnest words, but Filch remained in the same state, squatting in the corner and howling incessantly with a raspy voice.

Harry didn't really want to deal with him, but a grown man crying like a jilted woman wasn't just unsightly—it was grating on the ears. If he kept howling like this, would Harry even be able to sleep tonight?

"Fine, looks like I have no choice but to use this trick~"

With a helpless shrug, Harry brushed his hand over his Space Ring and pulled out his... trunk.

That's right, Harry actually brought two trunks.

The one left on the train only contained his school robes, bedding, and textbooks that he had already memorized and had no use for.

His true "treasures," the most important ones, were all in the other trunk, which had been hidden inside his Space Ring the whole time.

From this, one could tell that Harry was prepared to run away at any given moment~

"Meow?! Meow!"

Filch was still squatting in the corner, weeping to himself, and hadn't noticed Harry's situation, but Mrs. Norris had been watching Harry the whole time and was startled by the sudden appearance of the trunk.

However, she immediately twitched her nose in curiosity, and her cat eyes lit up!

Inside Harry's trunk, Mrs. Norris smelled a scent that was incredibly alluring to a cat!

"Meow... meow!"

She began to pace restlessly, grinding her claws on the floor. That scent was the most delicious thing she had ever smelled in her feline life; it kept drilling into her nose, stimulating her brain to the point of crashing!

If Harry weren't a stranger, Mrs. Norris might have been rolling on the ground and rubbing against him, begging for a treat right then and there~

"Heh, you've got a sharp nose. Are you like Crookshanks, with some Kneazle blood in you?"

Harry looked amusedly at Mrs. Norris, who was swallowing hard, and pulled a small jar from his trunk, opened it, and pushed it toward her.

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

"Mrs. Norris, stay away from him! You scoundrel, don't you dare feed my Mrs. Norris any strange things!!"

Hearing that Harry intended to feed his beloved cat something of unknown origin, Filch forgot his tears and lunged over with a vicious expression.

"It's just feeding a cat, do you have to react like that?" Harry gave Filch a disdainful look. "Just look at how thin she is. Honestly, you can't even feed her properly yourself, and yet you won't let anyone else do it~"

Mrs. Norris was a Maine Coon, a breed known as the "gentle giant." They were not only docile and perceptive but also grew up to be large and beautiful, making them the darlings of many cat lovers.

Yet, under Filch's care, she had become thin and scrawny. Not only had she failed to grow to her full size, but her beautiful coat was greasy and matted—a clear sign of long-term malnutrition and a lack of grooming.

"Meow!" Seeming unable to resist the scent any longer, Mrs. Norris ignored Filch's interference and buried her head in the jar, devouring the food.

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

Filch sniffed involuntarily. By now, he had caught the aroma wafting from the jar and spotted the various chunks of meat, all different sizes but undeniably substantial, causing a flicker of jealousy to rise in his heart.

OMG, that was fresh meat! He didn't even eat that well himself!

"I made the cat food myself, using only the best ingredients," Harry explained with a smile. "Hermione's Crookshanks treats this stuff like a treasure. If he knew I was feeding it to other cats, he'd definitely bare his teeth at me."

Seeing the creature eating happily, Harry tentatively stroked the back of Mrs. Norris's neck. Although her body trembled slightly, she didn't make any aggressive moves.

"Heh, watching her eat makes me hungry, too. I suppose it really is time to get something to eat."

As he spoke, Harry began pulling various ingredients out of his trunk, and within moments, Filch's desk was covered in them.

These ingredients were mostly washed and prepped, ready to use the moment they were unpacked. With a variety of meats, vegetables, and soy products on display, Filch's eyes went wide with shock!

After that, Harry even pulled out a spirit stove, a soup pot, and most importantly, an assortment of seasonings.

"Mr. Filch, would you mind lighting this for me? I don't have my wand on me at the moment." After setting up the fuel, Harry turned to ask Filch for help.

He could have actually used a lighter, but he wanted to give Filch a sense of participation. After all, there were only the two of them in the room; it wouldn't be right for him to eat while the other man just watched.

Unexpectedly, the moment the words left his mouth, Filch's temper exploded!

"Oh, damn it! You're doing this on purpose just to mock me, aren't you?! You wretched brat, I... I can't cast magic, and I don't have a wand either!! Are you satisfied now?!!"

"Is that so?"

Harry frowned in surprise. He hadn't expected at all that Filch would be a Squib!

He had heard Scamander talk about Squibs before—people born into wizarding families who were unable to use magic. Mrs. Figg, whom Dumbledore had sent to keep an eye on him, was a Squib.

He never imagined he would run into another one, and right here in Hogwarts, no less!