Chapter 1
Argus Filch was polishing the awards for “special services to the school”, he felt calm and cheerful, or as calm and cheerful as he was capable of being. It was the last week of August, and he still had another week before the wretched little creatures returned to Hogwarts for those dreadful 10 months.
While he didn’t care much for summer weather, he cherished the two months when the castle was free of children. It was his time to clean and care for the castle in peace, and spend his evenings with his cat, Mrs. Norris. These untroubled days were in start contrast to when the petulant brats kept him overworked and in a foul mood for most of the year. He noted the silence beyond the trophy room and let out a satisfied “huff”.
In the summer, Filch would venture from his hermitage to pay visits to Madame Pince, the librarian. He did not know how he would describe their relationship, of course he thought she was a lovely woman, but they were really just friends, or maybe “romantic friends” - if there was such a thing. They both put their work first, she had the library and her books, while he had tending to the castle and Mrs. Norris. They both found the students vile and tempestuous, which left them with little energy for each other during the school year, save for Christmas and Easter break.
In the summer months, they spent every Saturday evening together. They would walk the grounds at night, eat dinner together, and today, the final Saturday of August, they broke out the sherry and drank themselves silly to celebrate their final days of summer without the little brutes. Satisfied with his work, Filch began tidying his polishing supplies, preparing to return to his office to freshen up before his evening with Madame Pince.
Supplies in hand, Filch looked around the trophy room. He had painstakingly polished every trophy in here over the past week, they gleamed satisfyingly in the flickering light of the torch. His heart fell slightly as he thought about how the next time they would be cleaned, it would be by a sticky fingered rodent who was made to clean for their detention.
Filch put the torch out and started down the corridor towards his office. His mind wandered to his most frequent musing - student discipline. He debated whether it was worth it to make an appointment with Dumbledore before the start of school to once again advocate for corporal punishment or what Dumbledore labeled “torture” of the students. When the students were made to clean as punishment, he just had to watch them do a shabby job and re-clean everything after. At least he used to get some satisfaction stringing the little creatures up by their ankles - he paused in his musings to once again soak in these waning hours of serenity in the castle, he paused and savored the silence, after a few breaths he turned and hobbled toward his office.