Thinking of this, Filch took a deep breath and continued patrolling the castle.
Meow!
As though sensing Filch's unease, Mrs Norris let out 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, he shook his head. "It's all right, Mrs Norris."
Mrs Norris leapt nimbly into his open arms, and he caught her.
He scratched Mrs Norris beneath the chin with his fingers. "It's all right! I'm fine now!"
Meow!
Mrs Norris answered him, naturally nestling into the crook of his arm and purring.
He lowered his head, burying his face in Mrs Norris's fur, and took a deep breath.
The familiar scent calmed him considerably compared to before.
Although he trusted Wizet completely, he had no confidence in himself.
He worried that all his ailments, or perhaps having been a Squib for too long, would affect the transformation process.
That worry had even turned into fear—fear of dawn arriving, fear that when it was time to begin the transformation, Wizet would tell him that he was still unsuitable for it.
Yet at the same time, he desperately looked forward to it, hoping that his long, bleak life might finally welcome its first true ray of dawn.
It was already the early hours of the morning. Even energetic boys like Fred and George would not be causing trouble around the castle at this hour.
Even so, after walking all night, his legs hurt badly enough to make him break out in a cold sweat, yet he still persisted with his patrol.
The reason was simple.
He could not sleep!
He was not sleepy in the slightest. His mind seemed more active and sharper than ever before.
Because of this,