Disclaimer: never did and never will own it. J.K. Rowling does.
Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix

---

~ The Power Of A Squib - Disappearances ~

---

The tall, lanky woman had a feral smile when seeing the look of pure rage on the face of the man in front of her. He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid as to let her take his wand. Seething, he followed her lead as she motioned him with his own wand; the smooth moves were enough to indicate she knew how to use it. He made his way in the dark corridors, his mind already listing all the punishments he would inflict to her for bringing him such humiliation. She smiled knowingly as she walked just behind him. He could feel her presence but could not hear the sounds of her steps. It irritated him; if he didn’t hear her, he could not plan in advance her moves. He sighed and dejectedly resigned himself to his fate.


~*~


Hermione groaned when a furry head butted against hers. She moved a hand, scratched twice behind the velvet ears and turned the head away. Crookshanks was not so easy to dissuade. He moved around and began enthusiastically to lick her brow.

“Ow! Crooks, your tongue is rough!”

He meowed in answer. She groaned again, grabbed her wand and murmured:

“Lumos!”

Her room lit up immediately and, once again, she was glad that being Head Girl granted her the privilege of her own room. Crookshanks was seating on her spare pillow, looking smug. She looked at him and scowled.

“Now, may I know what prompted you to wake me up at one in the morning?”

Crookshanks yawned and blinked lazily. She knew he did that on purpose. He wouldn’t relent until she had done what he wanted.

“Do I have to get out of bed?” she asked resignedly.

A soft mew.

“To put on my clothes?”

After a few other questions, Hermione sighed, slipped on her robes and slippers and secured her wand in her left sleeve. She verified that her Head Girl badge was properly pinned on her robes and opened her door.

“Well, Crooks? Lead the way, since it can’t wait.”

Dignified, his tail raised high, Crookshanks passed in front of her. She rolled her eyes, closed her door and re-set her wards. Crookshanks was padding along in the corridors with confidence as if he didn’t fear to be caught. Hermione swallowed hard. Of course he didn’t care for being caught: he was a cat! He didn’t risk losing points if Filch or Professor Snape found him in the corridors after curfew. He didn’t risk detention either. She had a nervous laugh; what detention could one invent for a cat? She almost imagined Filch’s voice saying:

“One evening with Hagrid’s dog, you sorry excuse for a cat!”

She didn’t dare think how Crookshanks would react face to Fang.


~*~


She followed her ginger cat, regretting that she hadn’t gone to Harry’s dormitory for getting his Invisibility Cloak. Had she still been in Gryffindor Tower, she would probably have done so before foolishly following Crookshanks. She recognised the way to the dungeons and winced. Now, she was sure she wouldn’t come out of it alive.

She heard footsteps and looked quickly around, spotting a dark alcove in which she could hide. Filch passed in front go her and she expected Mrs. Norris to follow suit and betray her position. But there was no Mrs. Norris.

Filch knocked at something that looked like an arch. The air shimmered and Hermione remembered that it was the entry to Professor Snape’s private quarters. As a Head Girl, she had been given the position of every dormitory and of the offices and private rooms of everybody on the staff.

“Professor Snape?”

Filch’s voice was anxious and half-broken. He kept looking around as if expecting someone to come out of the darkness. He knocked several more times but there was still no answer. Hermione knew that by now, Professor Snape would have answered, if he were in his rooms. Filch slid on the floor and began to sob. Hermione’s mouth went agape. Crookshanks coiled around her ankles, rubbing his head against her calves, and looked up at her as if asking her what she was waiting for.

“Head Girl,” she thought quite indistinctly. “I am supposed to be there for anybody needing help or comfort… Argh, can’t believe I’m thinking of helping Filch! He will bite my head off or lock me in those manacles of his… Well, time for me to unearth the legendary Gryffindor courage…”

Silently, she came out of her hiding place and knelt behind Filch. She slowly put her hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Filch? What is the matter, sir?”

He turned his head toward her.

“What are you doing out of bed? Detention!” he said, trying to make his voice sound as rough as usually.

“I know, Mr. Filch. But Crookshanks seemed to thing that there was something wrong.”

The caretaker noticed the smug cat sitting in front of him for the first time.

“Intelligent cat you have here, Miss. Almost as intelligent as my Mrs. Norris!”

On those words, he emitted a noise that sounded suspiciously like a strangled sob.

“Where is Mrs. Norris, sir? I didn’t see her tonight.”

“That’s the point, Miss! Mrs. Norris disappeared and I hoped Professor Snape could help me find her – he’s always nice to me, Professor Snape, not like all those arrogant Slytherin students – but it seems that Professor Snape disappeared also!”

Hermione was dumbfounded.


~*~


“Are you sure that he’s simply not… out?” she asked, thinking of the spying activities of Professor Snape.

Voldemort had been defeated earlier that year, but there were still some Death Eaters to find and Professor Snape was still an active spy among them.

“No, no, Miss, the Professor always tells me when he goes out.”

He eyed her suspiciously.

“I take it that you know about the Professor then?”

She nodded warily. She doubted Filch was among Voldemort’s supporters, but she wasn’t known to spill anybody’s secrets.

“I usually find him when he comes back hurt,” he explained.

He realised then that Hermione’s hand was still on his shoulder. She blushed, thankful for the darkness surrounding them, and retrieved her hand hurriedly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to presume anything–”

“It’s quite alright, Miss. Thank you for your concern.”

He wiped clumsily his tears, as if ashamed, and straightened up.

“Well, I suppose I will continue to search for Mrs. Norris and Professor Snape.”

“I can help you if you want. I don’t think Crookshanks will let me go to bed without solving the problem first anyway. I believe he’s quite protective of Mrs. Norris.”

“He gave her kittens?” he asked, bristling.

She laughed gently.

“Not at all. But Crooks feels compelled to protect the women in his territory. It seems Mrs. Norris has been included in it.”

“You would accept to help me then?” he asked gratefully. “Honestly, I’m worried. Mrs. Norris isn’t prone to such pranks and Professor Snape never disappears without a word. I’m afraid it could be something above my… abilities.”

He didn’t add a word and Hermione understood perfectly. It was never easy for a wizard to openly admit he was a Squib – especially to a Muggle-born witch.

“I understand. I will gladly help you, if you forget for a moment the ‘no magic in the corridors’ rule.”

Filch graced her with an unexpected grin.

“Not that it bothered you before. You are Miss Granger, are you not?”

She had an embarrassed smile and extended her hand.

“Hermione Granger, sir.”

“Argus Filch, Miss,” he replied, shaking her hand.


~*~


She took her wand in her right hand, ready for anything. She noticed that he had also a wand in his left hand. He squirmed slightly under her quick quizzical glance.

“The Headmaster insisted on it, five years ago. He seemed to think that I would overcome the difficulties and become a bit of a… wizard.”

She patted his free hand.

“I’m sure he was right, Mr. Filch. If you don’t mind, would you tell me how advanced you are in your Kwikspell courses?”

He looked at her with surprise.

“How do you know about it? This is the Potter boy, isn’t it? I knew it, I knew he had read the letter five years ago! Always like his father, this one–”

“Mr. Filch. Maybe Harry did tell me, but I noticed in the seven years I’ve been here that I never saw you with a wand in hand. I assure you that only a very limited number knows the truth about you.”

He sighed.

“Wizards don’t want to know about Squibs, Miss. They say it’s degrading and that the existence of Squibs is an insult to them.”

“Degrading? That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially since you are trying to use your magic even so!”

“I’m afraid I’m not very far,” he murmured. “I think I have maybe covered the spells that you studied in your first year.”

Her small gasp sent him on the defensive.

“I’m aware that it took me five years to learn them, but I had a hard time with the wand alone already.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Filch,” she said hastily. “Do you know how to disarm your adversary?”

“No, Miss. It’s not on the program yet.”

“Would you mind learning it now?” she offered. “It could be very useful for us later.”

“You would be willing to teach me spells?”

Hermione was going from surprise to surprise. Now that she had passed Filch’s barrier of coldness and meanness, she found herself face to face with a man lacking confidence, persuaded he was the scum of the streets and bitter about it.

“Mr. Filch,” she said solemnly, careful of keeping any condescendence and pity from her tone, “If you ever need someone to practice your spells with, I would be glad to be there for you.”

He noticed how she hadn’t said ‘help’ or ‘advise’ and he nodded.

“Miss, I may take you up on your word,” he said with a timid smile.

She beamed at him.


~*~


“Now, Mr. Filch, the spell… One word, Expelliarmus. It should be enough to make my wand fly in your hand. Go on.”

He positioned himself in front of her and pointed his wand at her.

“Expelliarmus.”

Nothing happened. He lowered his wand, looking as if he was ready to walk away.

“Mr. Filch, you have to put more conviction in the word. You want to disarm me. You want to have my wand in your hand. Try again!”

She was smiling at him and he felt that it wasn’t a mocking smile. She was encouraging him, she believed he could do it.

“Expelliarmus!”

“Almost!” she cried gleefully. “I felt my wand move in my hand! Try again, Mr. Filch!”

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Her wand flew in his hand and she stumbled backwards until she hit the wall. He ran to her.

“Miss Granger?” he asked, concerned.

He had the surprise of his life when she threw her arms around his neck, laughing.

“You did it! I knew you could! Those people from the Kwikspell courses underestimate you, they go too slow for you! You just need someone to practice with!”

“Are you sure, Miss? People say they just need a month to learn things like Transfiguration.”

“We learnt this spell in our second year and look, it took you only three tries to master it! Do you know the Silencing Charm?”

“No.”

“And the one to stop the current spell?”

He shook his head, quite bewildered. Hermione’s enthusiasm was contagious. He couldn’t believe she was glad to teach him spells she had learnt five years earlier. She smiled again, encouragingly.

“I will teach you this one first, if you don’t mind. I’m sure you wouldn’t have me mute for twenty minutes. So, the words are Finite Incantatem. Crooks, baby, come here. Petrificus Totalus.”

Filch gasped when Crookshanks fell heavily on his flank. Hermione urged him, so he aimed his wand at the petrified cat and said:

“Finite Incantatem!”

It took him several tries – maybe because he knew that Hermione could undo her spell – before succeeding. As soon as he did, Hermione cast a legs-binding spell on Crookshanks who glared at her. Filch freed him the first time he said the counter-spell. Hermione immediately knelt by her cat and proceeded to apologise with heavy petting and idiotic cooing of apologies.

“Next spell,” she said without looking up, scratching Crookshanks’s ears. “Silencio. It should silence–”

Her lips continued to move but no sound came out of them. Filch flashed her an apologetic smile and quickly murmured:

“Finite Incantatem.”

“Well, I see you were quite unnerved by my talking,” she commented. “I think we are ready.”

“Are you telling me you are relying on me in this mission?”

“Of course, Mr. Filch. You probably know Hogwarts much better than anybody else and you know handy spells. I have no doubts you’ll prove more than useful in this.”

They began prowling the corridors, discussing in a low voice, staying on their guard.


~*~


Hermione was truly impressed by Filch’s knowledge of the grounds. There were places she had never seen, even with the Marauder’s Map. After one hour of vain search, she hazarded a question:

“Do you think they could have left Hogwarts?”

“For Hogsmeade? I doubt it. Mrs. Norris never goes out of Hogwarts.”

“Are we really sure that they are together?”

“No, Miss, but I’d feel better if Mrs. Norris was here with us. She would be able to find Professor Snape in moments.”

“I guess so,” she murmured, remembering all the times she had been caught – or nearly caught – by Filch’s cat.

He smiled at her, gently mocking, as if to remind her that there were reasons why he was caretaker of Hogwarts.

Two more hours of search were as fruitless as the previous ones. Hermione rested a moment against a wall, her feet hurting.

“We shouldn’t be far from morning. People will notice Professor Snape’s absence and they will come looking for him.”

“No, Miss. The Professor is lonely and tomorrow, well today, is Saturday. Only the Headmaster could have something to tell him, but he’s in London for the weekend.”

“The Slytherins… He’s their Head of House.”

“If he’s not here, they will be able to do more mischief,” said Filch bitterly. “Go to bed, Miss. We will start to search again later in the day, if you agree.”

“Naturally, Mr. Filch. We will find them, sound and safe. Goodnight, Mr. Filch.”


~*~


“Elena! This is enough! Let me go instantly!”

“No, dear. I’ve wanted recognition for a long time now and you’ve denied it to me all along. You regret to have ignored me now, don’t you?”

“Oh, certainly Elena!” he replied sarcastically. “You are on my mind every minute of my life and I curse myself daily for overlooking you.”

“That’s more like it, dear,” she purred, brushing her long nails against his cheek.

He didn’t move, just looking above her head, his eyes unfathomable.

“Look at me when I talk to you!”

Blood smeared his face where her nails had scratched him.

“You can threaten me, Elena,” he said with a weary voice, “you can hurt me, torture me, even kill me if you want, but it will never bring you the attention you crave for.”

“You’re so mean!” she exclaimed, her voice suddenly full of tears. “I can’t believe I’ve spent seventeen years sighing after you!”

“I can’t believe it either,” he muttered.

He walked to a corner, sat on the filthy floor with a grimace of distaste, circled his knees with his arms and added calmly:

“Please wake me up when you come to your senses.”

He laid his head on his knees and closed his eyes. Elena stood there, dumbstruck.


~*~


Hermione took only a few hours of sleep. Crookshanks was too unnerved for letting her sleep longer. She took a hot shower, hoping to awake a bit better, dressed with old clothes and chose her most comfortable shoes. She had the impression the search would not go easy.

She rushed into the Great Hall for breakfast before anybody else was up – or almost. Filch was already there, at the Head Table, and she realised she had never seen him there before. He waved at her with a cheeky grin and she chuckled. She was surprised to discover that the irascible caretaker could be as mischievous as the seventh year boys.

“Are you ready?” he asked her, coming to her place.

“I just need to brush my teeth and get Crookshanks.”

“Alright. Meet me at my office then?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she promised.

She encountered Harry and Ron on her way out and claimed she had to go to the library before running away. Crookshanks was almost clawing at her while she was brushing her teeth.

“Let’s go, Crooks. Mr. Filch is waiting for us.”

A few moments later, she was knocking at the door of Filch’s office and they left immediately.

Three hours later, they still had no clue as for where could be Professor Snape and Mrs. Norris. They had encountered students and each time, Filch had taken a nasty voice, lecturing Hermione about her letting her cat wander around. She had had a hard time swallowing her laugh. Everybody had thrown a compassionate glance to Hermione – except the Slytherins.

They rested a moment in an unfrequented corridor.

“Just remind me why we didn’t ask the teachers,” Hermione said, breathing heavily, feeling like his limbs were loaded with lead.

“Because they wouldn’t care. Professor Snape is a grown man and nobody likes him very much on the staff. As for Mrs. Norris, I suspect pretty much everybody would like for her to be dead. And we have no proof they didn’t disappear of their own will.”

“If only we had… Gods! I can’t believe I’ve forgotten about that. Mr. Filch, can we go back to your office, please? I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“The Marauder’s Map.”


~*~


Puzzled, Filch led her back to his office. She went straight to the filing cabinets, looking for the drawer marked ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’. Harry had given to Ron and her the exact description of Filch’s office in case they were locked in it, so they could retrieve the Marauder’s Map since its disappearance at the end of their fourth year. She realised the scale of Filch’s trust in her for he didn’t even try to stop her as she opened the drawer.

She rummaged through it for a moment before exclaiming triumphantly:

“Here it is!”

She brandished a large, empty piece of old parchment. Filch’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“What is it?”

She blushed.

“The Marauder’s Map. It’s a big secret, Mr. Filch, and I’d really appreciate if you could forget about it just after.”

She took her wand and tapped the parchment with it.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The Map was activated. Filch looked at it from above her shoulder and gasped.

“Potter! He and his father, always up to mischief! I should–”

“Here they are! Fluffy’s room!”

“And how may you know about Fluffy, huh?”

“Mr. Filch, surely you remember that Harry, Ron and I went down there to get the Philosopher’s Stone. Come, we must hurry. They probably have been there since yesterday.”

She pocketed the Marauder’s Map after murmuring a quick:

“Mischief managed.”

Filch was far too excited at the perspective to have Mrs. Norris back to care.

They ran to the third floor, not even caring for the strange looks the students were throwing their way – especially with Crookshanks running smoothly behind them. The door was still locked, as Hermione remembered it. She aimed her wand at it, slightly nervous even if she knew that Fluffy wasn’t behind it – after all, she hadn’t seen him on the Marauder’s Map.

“Alohomora,” she whispered.

The door slowly opened.


~*~


Elena nudged him awake with her foot. He opened his eyes and immediately glared at her. He slowly stretched his long legs before standing up. A quick glance around and he knew everything there was to know.

“So, I see you still didn’t come to your senses,” he commented, sneering.

“Severus, I–”

The door opened with a slight creak; she turned around, wand in her hand, and cast a full body-bind on the unsuspecting person stepping inside the room.

“Expelliarmus!” exclaimed a masculine voice.

Two wands flew in the extended hand.

“Finite Incantatem,” the newcomer added, pointing his wand to the petrified person.

“Argus?” exclaimed Elena, incredulous.

“Thank you, Mr. Filch,” said Hermione, gratefully.

He gave her the two wands he had taken from Elena and she smiled at him.

“Keep an eye on her, please, will you?” she asked.

She went to the fourth person in the room.

“Professor Snape. I’m glad to see you are unharmed.”

“Miss Granger, I thought you already knew the dangers of stepping forth in a room unsuspecting.”

“I do know, sir. That’s why I wasn’t alone. How did she manage to steal your wand?”

“You may not believe me, Miss Granger,” he scowled, “but I am human and when a woman throws herself at me, I happen to have a reaction slightly delayed by surprise.”

“I understand completely,” she answered seriously.

He raised his eyebrows, having expected a mocking laugh: Severus Snape, the greasy git, having women throwing themselves at him? It had to be a joke! But she didn’t laugh at him. She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. She stepped back before he could push her away, a wistful little smile on her lips, and handed him his wand without saying a word. He didn’t ask how she knew it was his.

She turned around quickly as she heard quite a commotion. Elena had disappeared, leaving place to a skeletal cat with a dust-coloured fur. She tried to escape, running between Filch’s legs.

“Crooks!”

The large ginger cat had even not waited for her cry and he pounced on the smaller cat, his jaws closing on the nape of her neck. Hermione smiled quite smugly and Severus, just for contradiction’s sake, scowled.

“Mr. Filch, I think you should take her. That is, if it’s safe. If not, I can still petrify her and you could release the spell later.”

Mrs. Norris protested loudly and Hermione winced.

“This is it! Petrificus Totalus!”

Filch sighed and bent down to recover his cat.


~*~


They found themselves in Filch’s office and the caretaker even managed to find three cups for offering tea. Severus summoned the house elves for something to eat, as he hadn’t eaten since Elena had kidnapped him.

“Who is Elena?” asked Hermione, confused.

Severus and Filch sighed at the same time.

“Elena Norris–” began Severus.

“Was at school with me… before it was apparent that I was a Squib,” Filch continued.

Severus looked surprised at his easy admission of his greatest shame.

“She is an Animagus. Obviously, from what we discovered today, she hid as Mrs. Norris all the time.”

“You didn’t know her form?”

“No. Mrs. Norris appeared something like six months after I became the caretaker here. I never had a familiar before and I immediately took a liking to her. I named her after Elena for… well, never mind. I didn’t know it was really Elena herself. I suppose she had a good laugh at my expense more than once,” he concluded sadly. “The old fool so fond of his cat, because nobody else would ever talk to him, let alone care for him.”

Severus glared at him and he shrugged dejectedly.

“But I don’t understand… Why did she kidnap Professor Snape?”

He blushed slightly and her eyes widened.

“Well, it appears that Elena… decided that she was in love with me. She tries to catch my attention several years ago but it failed. I was by then fully in the middle of my spying activities and I had just spent six months in Azkaban. I had no interest in anything but my work and a way to redeem myself.”

Filch gasped.

“Professor! You can go and tell things like this around! She’s a student!”

Severus had an odd smile.

“Miss Granger is a bit more than a student. I do believe that Albus has some projects for her as soon as she graduates and anyway, she’s known of my double life since her fourth year, am I correct, Miss Granger?”

She nodded briefly, her heart beating frantically; had she understood him properly? Did Albus plan to ask her to join the Order of the Phoenix after graduation?

“I will walk Miss Granger back to the library, Argus. Sort out things with Elena and remember something: she only thinks she’s in love with me. In truth, she is not.”

Filch nodded miserably, looking at his still-petrified cat. Hermione gave him Elena’s wand and gently patted him on the shoulder. Following Severus outside, she discreetly took out her own wand and murmured a quick charm aimed at Mrs. Norris.


~*~


“What spell did you cast?” asked Severus casually as soon as the door closed behind her.

She smiled sheepishly, bending down to gather Crookshanks in her arms.

“A way to shorten the length of my petrification spell. I’m afraid I cast it a bit too strong for Mr. Filch to undo it on his own. He only learnt the spell yesterday,” she added defensively.

“I must admit that I was very impressed by his skills earlier today. I didn’t expect it from him.”

“I know, that’s why we planned it this way. We both knew that whoever had kidnapped you would go for me first, thus leaving time for Mr. Filch to come with something unexpected.”

“Brilliant witch and strategist?” murmured Severus. “It’s a wonder Potter took all the fame with you by his side. I would have expected you to outshine him.”

“Oh no!” she said hurriedly, her cheeks still pink from his compliment. “I had a taste of fame in fourth year and I really don’t want it. I prefer comfortable shadows, where I can actually do something without being watched at every move. Professor? Do you think it will be over soon? With the Death Eaters, I mean?”

He looked down at her, realising the toll it was taking on her. He had known it would come to this, he had tried to prepare them for a ruthless world, but still it had robbed them of their innocence and carefree days.

“I hope so, Miss Granger. I hope so.”

“I often wish I could go home to my parents and tell them there won’t be any risk now of an attack on them because I’m Harry Potter’s faithful friend. And, sometimes, I wish I could just have someone to hold me in strong arms and tell me over and over that it will be alright in the end.”

She sighed.

“I’m sorry, I’m babbling about my petty unhappiness, when you bore so much more than me and still stand forth to fight.”

Awkwardly, Severus put a hand on her shoulder.

“It will be alright in the end, Miss Granger. I promise you I’ll do my best for you to live in a safe world.”

She shifted Crookshanks’s weight in her arms and raised her hand to brush her fingertips against his.

“I know,” she whispered. “Since the end of fourth year, I’ve always felt safe when you’re around.”

Severus had a wry smile.

“Maybe you should go for a nap instead of the library. You are not your own poised self, as annoying as you usually are.”

She nodded in silence before looking up at him.

“Professor? You like Mr. Filch, don’t you?”

He shrugged carelessly.

“We are quite alike. Two old men, bitter, alone and disliked.”

“You’re not old! And you’re not as alone as you think.”

“There is no liking in this, Miss Granger. Argus and I tolerate each other because we probably are the only ones able to stand each other long enough for having a decent conversation.”

“It’s not true. Look, you’re having a decent conversation with me right now. And I know you can like people. I felt it when I gave you that hug earlier. I felt you relaxing slightly then.”

Seeing him getting angry, she added quickly:

“Don’t hex me into oblivion, I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

He leaned forward until his brow was almost touching hers.

“If you do, Miss Granger, I will deny it and Gryffindor will hex you into oblivion for all the House points lost by your fault.”

“Point taken, sir. Have a good afternoon, sir.”


~*~


Filch sighed again, looking at his cat. He took his wand and pointed it at her.

“Finite Incantatem.”

Mrs. Norris snapped out of her petrification state. She hissed at him, narrowing her yellow eyes.

“Would you please transform so we can talk?” he asked wearily.

Suddenly, he felt old, each of his bones aching. She transformed and Elena sat in front of him.

“I see you made some progress since last time we talked,” she said spitefully. “I would never have expected you to turn against me.”

“I would never have expected you to do something forcing me to act so,” he replied regretfully. “Why did you do this, Elena?”

“You don’t understand anything, do you, Argus? It’s all about power! You never had anything to interest me. But Severus is a powerful wizard. He will come to his senses eventually.”

“He will not. He had a taste of power, Elena, and saw how wrong it was. He’s still paying for this mistake.”

“Power is everything, Argus. You, a Slytherin, should know that better than anybody else!”

“No, Elena. I’m not a Slytherin anymore. When I was one, I believed in power and pure-blood. When they cast me away, I had to learn everything again, from another perspective. Albus Dumbledore helped me in this and let me see that what I thought was right was terribly wrong. It’s not because you’re a pure-blood that you’re better. It’s not because you’re a pure-blood that you have more power. Look, today, a Muggle-born witch helped me; she’s powerful, Elena, very powerful! Professor Snape himself respects her. She had none of the arrogant attitude of the Slytherin students here. She understands what it means to be different and rejected. You don’t. You’re used to get what you want. I’m telling you this, Elena: you won’t get Severus Snape.”

“Who’s going to stop me? You?” she replied, laughing insultingly. “You can hardly cast a spell that a second year student masters!”

Anger flashed in Filch’s eyes.

“Then why did you come to me? Why did you spend twenty-seven years as my cat if you despise me so?”

“Because you had that stupid crush on me at first – it was a guarantee you would protect me no matter what – and then you were the only one able to come close to Severus, Argus. You and that fool of a Headmaster. But he already had his pet phoenix.”

Filch shook his head.

“And in more than twenty years, you learnt nothing.”

He rose from his seat and came out of his office, closing it behind him. Elena was trapped inside, since her wand was safely tucked in Filch’s pocket, along with his own wand.


~*~


Harry and Ron waved at Hermione from the Gryffindor table when she entered the Great Hall for lunch. She smiled at them and sat besides Harry. She reached for the pumpkin juice jug and poured herself a glass before noticing the looks her two friends were giving her.

“What?” she managed after swallowing her gulp of juice.

“Terry Brooks saw you running in the corridors with Filch. What happened?”

“Mrs. Norris,” she said, busying herself with filling her plate. “There was a problem with Mrs. Norris.”

She could feel Harry’s sceptical gaze on her. She quickly glanced around and slipped her hand in her pocket.

“Harry,” she whispered, “I have something for you.”

She shoved the Marauder’s Map in his hand.

“Now, be careful not to be caught with it or Filch will have my head,” she hissed.

Harry looked at Hermione then at the map.

“Merlin, Hermione, how did you manage that?”

She hid her smile behind her glass of pumpkin juice.

“Well, I entered in his office, went straight to the drawer of ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’ items and took the map from it.”

Harry choked on his pie.

“And he let you do it?”

She shrugged.

“Of course. I am Head Girl after all.”

The two boys looked at each other and burst out laughing. Harry hugged his friend, almost making her spill her glass.

“You’re the best, Hermione.”

She nodded, munching happily her mouthful of pie, glad that it prevented her to answer.

As they came out of the Great Hall, the three Gryffindors stopped dead in their tracks. Filch was there, looking dark and angry. Harry and Ron gulped and cast nervous glances at Hermione.

“Miss Granger, a word if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Mr. Filch,” she replied, quite puzzled, feeling the panic of her friends.

She smiled encouragingly at them and followed the caretaker.


~*~


Filch didn’t say a single word on his way to his office and Hermione began to think she was in serious troubles. Visions of carefully oiled manacles closing around her wrists invaded her mind and she shuddered.

Anyway, don’t say you didn’t deserve it, girl. I mean, how stupid can you get? You showed him the map and afterwards, you expected to walk away with it safely tucked in your pocket? Terribly Gryffindor, as Professor Snape would say.

Filch ushered her quickly in his office and closed carefully the door. Her heart sank.

Wonder if one of the teachers cast a Silencing spell on his office. He’s going to let me hang in these manacles for a full week before torturing me until I confess where the map is…

“Miss Granger, I’m sorry to request your help again, but would you happen to know a spell that would force an Animagus to remain into her animal form?”

She blinked, swallowed and blinked again. She had a hard time registering his request. As she wasn’t answering, he sighed and looked down.

“I’m sorry, I knew it was asking a lot–”

“No!” she interrupted. “Not at all! I apologise, I was surprised. You seemed very stern in the corridors and I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t know any spell of this kind, but I’ll look in the library for you. Is it… is it for Mrs. Norris?”

The caretaker nodded.

“If she remains a cat, she won’t be able to bother Professor Snape.”

“Unless she claws him to death,” said Hermione, grinning.

Filch slowly grinned back, not even caring for the slow hiss coming from Mrs. Norris.

“Was there anything else, Mr. Filch?”

“Yes, in fact, there is. You… are you still willing to help me with the spells?” he asked in a whisper, throwing wary glances toward Mrs. Norris.

“Naturally! May I have a look at the Kwikspell program?”

He nodded and brought her the courses he had received by owl. She examined them thoroughly, muttering things under her breath, shaking the head occasionally and scribbling some illegible scrawls in a notebook. Filch was beginning to get worried.

Finally, she looked up and smiled at him.

“I have everything! I’ll spend the afternoon at the library and we will meet this evening, if it’s alright with you.”

“Of course, Miss Granger. I will always have time for you.”

She looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected such a comment coming from him.

“Right. Uh… well, I will see you tonight then, Mr. Filch.”

“Please… since we are going to work together, call me Argus.”

She gripped his offered hand and shook it.

“Then I am Hermione, Argus.”

None of them noticed the hateful gaze the dust-coloured cat threw at them.