Filch burst into loud sobs, as though he were finally venting all the resentment he had bottled up for years.
Although Harry knew Filch was a Squib, he did not immediately grasp what had happened. "Filch can cast magic?"
After all, he had grown up at his aunt and uncle's house, far removed from the wizarding world, so he did not have such a deep understanding of Squibs.
"What? Cast magic?" Cedric and Draco reacted far more strongly. They shouted in unison, their faces full of disbelief.
They had grown up in the wizarding world, where things like "Squibs" were common knowledge, so they understood perfectly well what being a Squib meant.
Hearing Wizet's congratulations, Filch was still weeping uncontrollably. Other than crying, all he could do was keep saying, "Thank you."
Wizet turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, you asked whether I had time just now... Did you need help with something?"
"Oh!" Harry nodded. "I wanted to practise duelling with you... Mr Bagman said we might be able to attack each other then, so I wanted to build up more real combat experience."
"Is now really the time for that?" Draco cut in. "What exactly is going on with Filch? He can cast magic? How is that possible?!"
The fact that "Filch could cast magic" shocked him no less than seeing a rooster turn into a phoenix. It was simply absurd.
Not even fairy-tale collections contained anything like "a Squib can cast magic."
"How is it impossible?" Filch shot back. Once he loosened his embrace, Mrs Norris climbed onto his shoulder of her own accord.
To prove himself, he took out a wand box from his pocket and drew the gleaming, meticulously maintained Fake Wand from inside.
As he held the Fake Wand aloft in his palm, his