Saturday night was unusually rowdy.
The wizards returning from Hogsmeade brought back a buzz of excitement to Hogwarts.
At times like these, Mr. Filch was kept plenty busy, always on the lookout for troublemaking young wizards—especially those two bold redheaded ones.
Those two had made him downright despise anyone with red hair.
As Filch wrapped up his day's work, ready to head back to his dim caretaker's office, Sean passed by, fresh from brewing a proficient-level Swelling Solution.
In his notebook, above the section on potions, Sean had jotted down his recent progress with charms.
His Quietus Charm was now at the proficient level, and his Finite Incantatem had reached expert level. Now, Sean could stop Justin's Levitation Charm with a flick of his wrist, no incantation needed.
Professor Flitwick had tested his practical skills with a few minor jinxes, all of which Sean dispelled without a hitch.
Then Flitwick tried some low-powered hexes, and Sean just barely managed to block them. But when he spoke the incantation, his Finite Incantatem could fend off most hexes and even some weaker curses.
He could confidently say no first-year wizard could break through his defenses.
Paired with his Transfiguration and charm combination techniques, he could probably take on lower-year students without breaking a sweat.
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But against older students, the outcome was anyone's guess.
So Sean never slowed down. Once his Quietus Charm hit expert level, he'd unlock a new charm title, boosting his magical talent.
And by combining his charms strategically, he'd keep strengthening his combat skills.
The corridor was cold and empty, and once again, Sean didn't spot Mrs. Norris.
Bruce, a senior student, had arranged to meet Sean at a time two hours later than most of the returning wizards.
Bruce had explained, "It's a life-or-death two hours."
Leon, another senior, looked ready to bolt back to the castle before Bruce could finish, as if Bruce was about to sprinkle Itching Powder into the Zonko's shopkeeper's hat. But Bruce just huffed and dragged him off.
With some time before the meeting, Sean heard the cheerful laughter of young wizards coming from the caretaker's office.
He sighed softly—no wizard hated Filch forever, but there was always a wizard who did.
After tidying the office, Sean deftly tucked away his wand.
Thanks to how often he used the Cleaning Charm, it was now at the proficient level. Soon, he'd be able to clean a floor spotless with a single wave, just like the professors.
Looking at the wooden cabinet that had collapsed yet again, Sean cast a spell he'd only recently learned:
"Reparo!"
The cabinet seemed to rewind time—cracks sealed from top to bottom, and scattered wood chips flew back into place.
A magical sight…
Sean's lips curved into a smile. Magic never failed to thrill him.
Leaving the office quietly, he heard a loud meow. He crouched down, waiting for Mrs. Norris to pounce.
Maybe it was because Sean often helped Filch clean the office, easing Mrs. Norris's worries, or maybe it was Justin's nutrient-packed fish treats…
Either way, Mrs. Norris had gotten chubbier. When she pranced across Sean's shoulders, he could definitely feel the extra weight.
[You've gained the affection of the magical creature Mrs. Norris at a proficient level, +10 proficiency.]
[Magical Creature: Mrs. Norris – Nearly Affectionate (80/90)]
[Apprentice-level magical creature affinity unlocks the apprentice-level title in the magical creatures domain.]
He was so close to unlocking the magical creature talent. Sean quietly pulled out Justin's latest batch of fish treats—apple-flavored, no less.
Magic was just too versatile.
As Mrs. Norris purred contentedly, Filch's usually sour face softened under the office's lamplight.
He gazed down the corridor, unable to take a single step from the shadows.
In his hand was a carefully chosen scarf, and Mrs. Norris had been purring for quite a while.
But he was a Squib. In the wizarding world, Squibs were rare and faced harsh prejudice.
Pure-blood families often disowned them (like Marius Black), and the Ministry didn't even record their births.
Like their name suggested, Squibs were fireworks that only fizzled with a "pop," insignificant in common slang.
Most Squibs lived on the fringes of the magical world, scraping by in obscurity.
Their anger came from deep within because their voices, no matter how loud, went unheard.
Except… by Headmaster Dumbledore.
He'd generously given this magic-craving man a humble job.
So Filch treasured it. He loathed rule-breaking young wizards, hated how their chaos made him anxious, always fearing he'd be sacked.
Those young wizards, gifted with magic, wasted their days fooling around and breaking rules, oblivious to how much those without magic envied them.
Except… Green.
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Sean patted Mrs. Norris's head. With Bruce's return approaching, he set her back on the ground and headed toward the Great Hall.
Filch watched him disappear into the distance, then tucked the scarf back into the wardrobe.
He had a new sweater… that was enough.
The prying eyes in the shadows faded. Some things were better left buried deep inside.
Too many lonely people in the world were afraid to take the first step.
So when Sean showed up in front of Filch with a Biting Doorknob, Filch's face froze in shock, like he'd seen a troll.
"Mr. Filch, this is something I asked a Hufflepuff senior to get for me."
Sean fixed it to the caretaker's office door, then cast a Disillusionment Charm on the original doorknob and handed Filch a bite-proof glove.
Now, mischievous young wizards wouldn't be able to sneak in and wreak havoc.
Filch stared at the young wizard, who fiddled with the setup, dusted off his hands with satisfaction, nodded politely, and left.
Even then, Filch hadn't fully processed it.
To Sean, it was a small gesture. The low-grade Biting Doorknob wasn't too aggressive—just enough to give troublemakers a quick sting.
This way, the young wizards wouldn't lose house points, and Filch wouldn't have to clean his office as often.
The cold wind still howled.
At the caretaker's office door, Filch clutched a brand-new scarf, his outstretched hand touching nothing at all.