Challenge: Argus Filch/Harry Potter
Challenger: Maureen
Due Date: June 26th
Notes: This "pairing" scares the hell out of me. I had NO idea how to write this. Oh, and I made Harry 7th year, because otherwise it's really disgusting.
Encounter in the Forth Hall
Filch sniffed the night air in the hallway on the fourth floor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just past the turnoff for the prefects' bathroom. Less than a second after he began to recognize the scent, Mrs. Norris was circling his feet, confirming his suspicions in her own feline way. The scent was subtle, more subtle than that of most of the students, who's collective, ungodly stench wafted vilely through the hallways at all hours of the day. Yet, despite its subtlety, the scent was still remarkably distinctive.
And decidedly, the scent was not where it was supposed to be.
This hour of night, all students were supposed to be tucked fast asleep in their dorms. And yet, Filch could clearly smell that seventh year student Harry Potter was out of his bed and roaming the fourth floor corridors. Presumably under his precious little invisibility cloak.
Slowly, Filch knelt down, so that he could whisper a request into his ever-faithful cat's ear. It was not a well-known fact in the wizarding word, but Argus knew that invisibility cloaks held no sway over feline kind. Promising Mrs. Norris a dinner of the finest tuna, he posed his whispered request.
Harry froze. He dared not make a sound. Somehow, Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker, had appeared just behind him. For someone with absolutely no magical ability, the man had an uncanny ability to show up right when Harry least wanted him to. But before Harry could finish his mental curse towards Filch, a hissing bundle of claws and fur dove at his face.
MRS. NORRIS!!
was all that Harry had time to think before the scraggly cat had torn the invisibility cloak off of Harry's pajama-clad figure.
"Harry Potter," Filch hissed with the relish that he showed only when a student was sure to be punished.
"Mr. Filch�." Harry winced.
"What are you doing out of bed, child?"
"Um�.." was Harry's very clever answer.
"I thought as much," Filch snapped. "How I miss the chains�.." he added as a characteristic afterthought.
"You always say that," Harry said testily, his snappish tone fueling his courage. "You can't honestly expect us to believe that students were tortured at Hogwarts within your lifetime."
Within a second, Harry found himself enveloped tightly inside the custodian's arms, Filch's grimy lips pressed firmly against his own.Harry didn't have time to react, let alone pull away, before Filch had broken the embrace and shoved the terrified seventh year to the stone floor.
"Stupid child," he grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "I suppose you thought the screams were from torture too."
At that, Harry's eyes grew to two times their usual size, and in no time flat, he had fled down two flights of stairs and locked himself in his dormitory, cringing under his covers.
Smirking, Filch wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
"Kids these days," he said, tossing a glance at Mrs. Norris. "They'll believe anything."
~end~
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