Chapter 113: The Untouchable Hand
Saturday night was unusually noisy.
That was because the wizards who had visited Hogsmeade had returned to Hogwarts still buzzing with excitement.
At times like this, Mr Filch was always extremely busy. He had to watch out for troublemaking students, especially those two audacious red‑haired wizards.
Those two had made him utterly despise all red‑haired wizards.
Just as Mr Filch finished his day's work and was about to return to his dim caretaker's office, Shawn passed by, having just finished brewing a Proficient‑level Swelling Solution.
In his notebook, above the Potions section, was a record of his recent progress in Charms.
Quietus was now Proficient. Finite had even reached Expert. Now Shawn could end Justin's Levitation Charm with a casual flick, no incantation needed.
Professor Flitwick had used minor jinxes to train his real‑world reactions. Shawn had countered every single one without exception.
So the professor had cast some weak hexes. Shawn barely managed to block those. But if he spoke the incantation aloud, his Finite could deflect the vast majority of hexes, and even some weaker curses could not break through his defence.
Now he could safely say that no first‑year wizard could breach his guard.
Combined with Transfiguration and spell combinations, he could probably take down younger students in one go without breaking a sweat.
But against older students, victory was far from certain.
So Shawn had never stopped working. Once Quietus reached Expert, he would unlock a new Charms title and raise his Charms talent.
Then he would continue refining his spell combinations and strengthen his combat ability.
The corridor was cold and deserted. Once again, Shawn did not see Mrs Norris.
Bruce had arranged to meet Shawn at a specific time, a full two hours later than most of the returning wizards.
Bruce had explained: "Two hours of life‑or‑death urgency."
Leon had tried to turn back to Hogwarts castle before Bruce even finished speaking, as if Bruce were about to sprinkle Itching Powder into the Zonko's shopkeeper's hat. Then Bruce had hauled him away, panting.
There was still some time before the agreed meeting. Once again, Shawn heard the cheerful laughter of young wizards coming from the caretaker's office.
He sighed faintly. No student hated Mr Filch forever, but there were always students who hated Mr Filch.
After cleaning the office, Shawn put away his wand smoothly.
Thanks to the wide use of the Scouring Charm, his proficiency was now at Proficient. Before long, he would be able to wave his wand like the professors and leave the floor spotless.
Looking at the wooden cupboard that had toppled over again, Shawn used the Mending Charm he had only recently learned.
"Reparo!"
The wooden cupboard reversed through time. The cracks running from top to bottom sealed themselves, and the splinters on the floor flew back into place.
A fantastical sight.
Shawn's lips curved upward. Magic always thrilled him.
He left the office silently. A loud meow greeted him. He crouched down, waiting for Mrs Norris to pounce.
Whether it was because Shawn always helped Mr Filch clean the office, easing Mrs Norris's worries, or because Justin's dried fish was so nutritious…
In any case, Mrs Norris had gained weight. When she tread back and forth on Shawn's shoulder, he could clearly feel she was heavier.
[You gained closeness with the magical creature Kneazle (Mrs Norris) at Proficient standard, Proficiency +10]
[Magical creature Kneazle (Mrs Norris): Not Close (80/90)]
[Apprentice‑level magical creature closeness will unlock the Apprentice title in the magical creatures domain.]
He was just short of unlocking his magical creatures talent. Shawn quietly pulled out Justin's newly made dried fish from his bag. Apple‑flavoured, this time.
Magic really was too versatile.
As Mrs Norris purred, Filch's usually harsh face softened for a long time under the oil lamp in the office.
He stared down the corridor for a long while, unable to take even a single step from the shadows.
He had a scarf in his hands, one he had chosen carefully. Mrs Norris had been purring for quite some time now.
But he was a Squib.
And Squibs were extremely rare in the wizarding world, and faced severe discrimination.
Pure‑blood families often disowned them, like the Blacks had done with Marius. The Ministry of Magic did not even record their births.
They were like their name, squib, suggested: fireworks that only made popping sounds. In slang, the word meant insignificant.
Most Squibs could only live out their lives on the fringes of magic, mediocre and impoverished.
So their anger came from deep within, because their voices would never be heard, no matter what.
Except by… Headmaster Dumbledore.
He had generously given this magic‑starved man a humble position.
So Filch treasured it dearly. He loathed students who broke the rules, loathed the chaos they caused that left him anxious and terrified of being dismissed.
Those students had the ability to cast magic, yet they played around every day, broke the rules, and had no idea how much people without magic envied them.
Except… Green.
…
Shawn scratched Mrs Norris's head. The time for Bruce's return was drawing near. He set Mrs Norris back on the floor.
Then he headed toward the Great Hall.
Mr Filch watched him silently as he walked farther and farther away. Then he tucked the scarf back into the cupboard.
The boy had a new jumper now. That was enough.
The gaze watching from the shadows gradually faded. Perhaps some things were best buried deep in the heart.
There were too many lonely people in the world who were afraid to take the first step.
So when Shawn appeared before Filch carrying a Fanged Doorknob, his expression was as terrified as if he had seen a troll.
"Mr Filch, this is something I asked a Hufflepuff seventh‑year to buy for me," Shawn said.
He fixed it to the caretaker's office door, cast a Disillusionment Charm on the original doorknob, and handed Filch a pair of bite‑proof gloves.
That way, mischievous students would not be able to get inside and wreak havoc.
Filch stared blankly at the young wizard. The boy fiddled with it for a moment, then patted his hands in satisfaction, nodded politely at Filch, and left.
Even then, Filch had not fully processed what had happened.
Shawn had only thought it a small favour. The low‑grade version of the Fanged Doorknob was not very aggressive. At most it would hurt the students for a moment.
That way, students would not lose House points, and Mr Filch would not have to clean the office so often.
The cold wind still howled.
At the caretaker's office door, Filch clutched a brand‑new scarf. The hand he reached out ultimately touched nothing.