Argus Filch: Something More

5: Reunion of Reluctance

A knock on the door awoke Henry Young from his sleep. He walked over to the door in an almost daze, a side effect of shortened sleep. He did not look into the peephole of the door and instead called through it, "Hello?"

A scratchy voice responded, "Hello. This is...Argus."

Henry checked if the door was locked. "Well, a nasty thing like you should be out there. You're no better than the other filth I find!"

"Just let me in."

"Why? So you can filthy up the place?"

"No, I just want to talk to Cecilia."

"You are getting no where near my sister."

"Why, is it because I'm 'filth?' She does call me that, you know."

"Well, she gave you that nickname for a reason, because there is nothing more filthy than a drunk who hadn't bathed in days and about to pass out on your doorstep!"

"I didn't pass out on your doorstep."

Henry scoffed. "You passed out alright."

"Well, alright, I did pass out..."

"I don't understand why on the good earth you are on my damn doorstep again, two nights in a row, at one o'clock in the blasted morning."

"That's a lot of adjectives."

"Adjectives don't mean nothing." His mild accent said 'adjectives' as 'adjactives.'

"Maybe you don't mean nothing," he heard Filch say under his breath.

"Just let him in already!" The voice of his sister said from behind him. Henry rolled his eyes and heard Filch mutter a few words of his own.

Still, he opened the door to see Argus Filch appearing in a worse state than he had before he had left. Some of the filth had been washed away by his short bathe in the rain; patches of it lingered still, there beneath his ear and on his arm, exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. His face was clean of most filth, which was a slight improvement. He was in his later twenties, but already there were wrinkled lines on his cheeks and forehead from scowling at students and professors alike. He was indeed scowling at Henry as he walked into the household, water dripping onto the floor, and Filch made it out of his effort to shake hands with the man, leaving his hand wet. Henry wiped his hand on his pants, not without bothering to see if it offended Filch. It didn't.

Argus pulled up a chair without invitation and patted one next to it, a persistent gesture for the two tired siblings to join him. Henry took the seat, leaving himself as a human barrier between Argus and Cecilia. He looked over Henry to see Cecilia stifling a yawn, a nonverbal reminder that if was the early hours of the morning. Argus was awake much rather. His eyes flickered from Henry to the woman whom was not meeting his eyes. He could not say he blamed her.

Henry said, "You are a strange man to show here twice, each time with no prior communication - I've only known you for two days," he added, "and you have proven yourself to be one of the most filthiest people I know."

"There's a reason behind the nickname your sister gave me - Filth." 

"My sister isn't the smartest witch."

"Well, no one informed me she was in Ravenclaw."

"She wasn't."

Filch scowled. "I never said she was."

Cecilia glared at the two of them. "I was a Hufflepuff, if either of you cared enough to know."

"A Hufflepuff?"  A laugh that was more of a musical coughing fit than anything made its way out of Filch's mouth. "You were one of those foul badgers?"

"Just because our House animal is that doesn't mean we are," she said.

"I'm a Squib, it's a title I was given since the instant I was out of the womb. That certainly does mean what I am - a Squib, a filthy Squib, you said so yourself."

She rolled her eyes at his immaturity. 

Henry said, "Filthy doesn't cover it."

"Ugly doesn't cover your face," Filch snapped.

"Boys, stop this nonsense."

"Says the Hufflepuff."

"Well, at least I'm loyal," Cecilia said.

"Loyal to a Squib," her brother had enough nerve to speak. He received a slap for his words.

"I am not loyal to filth!" Her face reddened as she realized what had come out of her mouth. "Argus, I - I didn't mean that!"

"Then why'd you say it?" Filch stood up, shoving off the hands Henry had placed onto his shoulders in a way to make him stay still.

"Why did you come into that pub with me in Hogsmeade?"

"A better question would be why did I not." Argus turned away from her face. "If I had known then the woman with a witty mind and an inner badger was not in control of what she said, then maybe I wouldn't have gone in there with her."

He threw open the door and walked back out into the cold rain of the night.