Filch's Gratitude, the Eternal Light Charm

As he approached, Mrs Norris warily backed away two steps. But Lyon patiently cast a wandless Scourgify, and in an instant, Mrs Norris's fur became sleek and glossy.

As if sensing that Lyon meant her no harm, Mrs Norris looked at her fur, then stepped forward and licked Lyon's hand.

Lyon did not hurry off to find Harry and Malfoy.

Mainly because neither of them had learned any particularly extreme spells. Their greatest risk right now was probably Filch.

As long as they could deal with Filch, everything else would be easy.

As Lyon thought this, his hands did not stop moving. He scratched beneath Mrs Norris's chin, and a pleased purr rose from her throat.

Marcus stared in astonishment. Mrs Norris, whom they usually feared most, had been won over by a single spell from Lyon.

As if sensing Lyon's gaze, Lyon smiled.

"If you are born with prejudice against them, then even their strengths will be seen as flaws."

"If you approach them calmly from the start, then why would they target you?"

As Lyon spoke, he picked up Mrs Norris. Thanks to the Scourgify he had just cast, her formerly dusty fur had turned a beautiful snow-white.

"Stop! Little wizard, how dare you touch my Mrs Norris!"

Suddenly, an enraged voice rang out behind them.

Marcus felt his legs begin to shake, but his godfather Lyon had not left, so neither could he.

Lyon turned around calmly and saw a filthy old man limping swiftly toward them.

"Put down my Mrs Norris, you damned little bastard!"

As Filch spoke, he suddenly saw Mrs Norris in Lyon's arms and his eyes widened.

"You damned little bastard! Look what you've done to my Mrs Norris! She's my family!"

A look of despair appeared on Filch's withered old face, as though Lyon had already killed Mrs Norris.

Hearing those words, Lyon showed no anger. Instead, he calmly removed the black glove from his right hand with his left.

"I merely cast a cleaning spell on your Mrs Norris, and she was quite willing to let me clean her fur."

"I can forgive your rudeness just now..." As Lyon spoke, he extended his ungloved right hand. "Now that the misunderstanding has been resolved, I think we can be friends."

Before Filch could react, Marcus felt his heart sink.

He was very familiar with that gesture.

He remembered that when an older prefect had provoked his godfather Lyon in his second or third year, Lyon had done something similar.

Even while enduring someone else's insults, he would calmly extend his hand and say he wanted to be friends.

Only when the other party explicitly refused reconciliation would Lyon make a move.

His family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Families, and he had received an excellent education from childhood. His elders had taught him much about dealing with people.

With his discernment, he could naturally tell what Lyon was doing.

This was not cowardice, nor was it mere forbearance. He was giving the other person one more chance.

I've given you a chance. Either work with me, or declare yourself my enemy completely. If you choose to be my enemy, I'll strike to kill.

A person's bearing and methods could often be seen in such small details.

And now, faced with Lyon's outstretched hand, it depended on whether Filch could seize the opportunity.

At that moment, Filch stared blankly at Lyon's offered hand. He noticed that Lyon had deliberately taken off his glove and had answered his words with exceptional politeness.

He looked again at Mrs Norris in Lyon's arms and saw that, aside from being cleaner than before, there was basically no change at all.

Since when had these little wizards become so polite?

If not for Marcus trembling beside him, Filch would have thought he was dreaming.

After staring at Lyon's hand for a long while, Filch finally realized what it meant.

Be friends.

What an unfamiliar phrase!

At Hogwarts, he had never felt anything like friendship or affection. In his eyes, there were only the two Galleons he received each month, batch after batch of damned little bastards, and his Mrs Norris.

Yet the sudden respect and kindness made his heart inexplicably warm.

At last, Filch slowly extended his hand. His withered hand was filthy, and upon seeing it, Filch hurriedly wiped it on his clothes before quickly grasping Lyon's hand.

"Uh, ahem, I... you... we..."

Filch held Lyon's hand, but he could no longer form words. Lyon, however, was very understanding and stood on tiptoe to pat Filch on the shoulder... well, mostly because he was not tall enough.

"All right, Mr Filch. I'm Leon Shelby. You can call me Leon."

Leon's voice unconsciously softened as he slowly took the black glove from Marcus and put it on his left hand.

Then he handed Mrs Norris over to Filch, while Marcus wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Having watched the entire exchange, he had been worried that Filch would utter something like "little bastard" again.

He was certain that if Filch dared say such words, Leon's Fiendfyre Curse would send Filch straight to the Hospital Wing.

That would cause another problem.

Fortunately, Filch was tactful, and he also seemed deeply moved.

Bang!

Just as Filch was about to say something else, a tremendous crash suddenly erupted from the end of the corridor!

"Damned Peeves! It must be him. Mr Leon, you should head back first. Curfew is coming soon."

Filch glanced toward the Trophy Room. At this hour, he felt it was probably not those little bastards causing trouble. It was most likely Peeves.

But the moment Leon heard the commotion, he knew it had not been caused by Peeves.

It was probably... Harry and Malfoy.

"Ahem, Mr Filch, I'll come with you."

Leon rubbed the tip of his nose helplessly. He swore that this time, he would make Malfoy learn his lesson.

The three of them quickly arrived at the Trophy Room. As soon as they reached the entrance, they found its door open and the room within pitch-black.

Leon casually pulled out his wand. "Eternal Light."

A blinding point of light shot from the tip of his wand, followed by two, three, four... It did not stop until there were more than ten. All the lights gathered above the Trophy Room, illuminating the entire room as brightly as day.

Marcus and Filch stared blankly at Leon's actions.

Marcus knew about the Advanced Lumos Charm.

Though he did not know its incantation, its effect was merely a little brighter than an ordinary Lumos Charm.

Yet Leon had just cast Eternal Light.

You called that a Lumos Charm?

As the lights illuminated the Trophy Room, the three of them saw what was happening inside.

Harry and Malfoy stood there looking half-dead, wands in hand as they fired spells at each other.