Argus Filch's breathing grew harsh. Forgetting all courtesy, he stared unblinkingly at Allen before him, his voice twisting out of shape. "Headmaster Harris, you... you mean me?..."
"Yes. There's an idea and a plan now..." Allen leaned comfortably back in the headmaster's chair. "She and I came up with it from there. I'll brew a potion that can work in concert with the divine power Rowena infuses into it... If our idea succeeds, perhaps it can free you from the current predicament of... people in your situation."
The muscles in Filch's cheeks were trembling. Hearing this earthshaking news from Allen, all his displeasure and humiliation were thrown to the back of his mind in an instant. He had worked painstakingly as the caretaker at Hogwarts for more than ten years, day after day, watching others cast magic, while stains that cost him endless effort to scrub away often needed only a casual wave of a wand from those wizards... Even now that there was Mister Handy, that envy and longing he had carried since he was old enough to understand still drove him to spend his savings on quick-spell courses, all for this one thing.
"Filch... but this is only a hypothesis. Although theoretically the chance of success is high..." Allen looked at the other man's reaction with some pity. "It hasn't been tested, after all. There may be some risks."
"I'm not afraid of danger... Headmaster Harris..." Filch forced out a few syllables, then could say no more. His lips opened and closed for several seconds, and tears fell from his eyes.
The Hogwarts caretaker's heart was crammed full of thoughts and emotion. Being able to cast magic had been his lifelong wish. After years of searching, pursuit, disappointment, and despair, that wish had almost been worn away completely.