Over the next two days, Felix found himself frequently bumping into Filch.
From the staff lounge to the Ancient Runes classroom, from the entrance of the Great Hall to behind a pillar in the corridor, Filch's awkward yet eager face would pop up sporadically. Felix anticipated news about the Weasley twins being put in detention, but there was complete silence. He suspected Filch was spending all his ti plotting how to 'accidentally' run into him.
On the third morning, Filch was squatting at the door of the Ancient Runes office, huffing and puffing as he busily scrubbed with a bucket, a rag, and various cleaning tools.
"Hey..." Filch flashed a toothy grin. "Professor Heap, I noticed the door was a bit dirty..."
"Co in and have a seat, Mr. Filch."
As he pushed off and briskly slipped inside, displaying agility that didn't match his age, Filch's eyes glead upon seeing Valen, who was amusing itself on the sofa, controlling a bunch of colorful figurines with its own wand.
"Mr. Filch?" Felix called twice before he snapped out of his trance.
Filch rubbed his hands together and complinted, "Your Niffler is quite clever, I hear it can even write."
"Thank you," Felix replied curtly, "Bang." He closed the door.
...
"I am a Squib, Professor Heap," Filch spoke in a low voice. "A Squib refers to—"
"I know the definition of a Squib," Felix interrupted. "Let's cut to the chase because I sense you've been struggling for quite a while."
"Oh, alright," Filch said pitifully. "Squibs... well, we are never taken seriously, treated as second-class citizens, not even on par with house-elves, at least they can use magic... You have no idea, I spend my days carrying lanterns and chasing mischievous students who stay out late..."
"I recall the school purchased a batch of miniature magic lanterns," Felix reminded him.
"Yes, but those lights were too bright, couldn't catch anyone," Filch replied cunningly.
Felix remained silent. He had no desire to judge the war between Filch and the students. He only knew that Hogwarts needed soone to help maintain order, lock doors at night, and clean the castle during leisure ti, and thus, there was Filch.
Filch did his job well, but he also exaggerated his own authority, repeatedly suggesting the reintroduction of corporal punishnt at the school, driven mainly by envy of the students.
At the sa ti, Felix understood why Filch had approached him.
"...We don't even have birth records! To prove our identity, we can only confirm through our parents' nas... When I was ten and showed no signs of magic, my family was disappointed. At eleven, I naturally didn't receive a Hogwarts letter. They started discussing sending
away, to a Muggle school, but they couldn't because there was a war going on outside! People were dying everywhere, they got scared, so they had to keep ... and pretend I didn't exist because I embarrassed them, none of our other relatives even visited..."
"Professor Heap—Mr. Heap—you naturally know how much ridicule I faced. As an adult, I wandered alone in the wizarding world, if it wasn't for Mrs. Oakwhite's encouragent..."
"Idris Oakwhite?" Felix inquired.
"Yes, her. She was a good person, better than anyone. Sadly, she passed away ten years ago, good people never last..." Filch spoke emotionally.
Felix blinked. He had heard similar sentints in the headmaster's office, where the rotund Slughorn, munching on sugar-coated pineapples, lanted the unfortunate fate of one of his favorite students, Lily. Felix believed these words were heartfelt, given Slughorn paid with a vial of Felix Felicis.
Idris Oakwhite, as Filch ntioned, was known for founding the Squib Support Association, an organization aid at assisting Squibs living in the wizarding world...
Oakwhite passed away twenty years ago at the age of 113. But in Filch's narrative, she had beco "good people never last"...
"Over twenty years ago, I was doing odd jobs everywhere, couldn't even afford newspapers, picked up leftovers from others every day until one day," Filch suddenly flushed, eyes widening with excitent. "Do you know what I saw?"
"A job advertisent?" Felix guessed.
In his mind, Felix sketched an image of a stubborn, cynical, idle middle-aged person: doing nial work, filled with envy. He had better options, but his entire childhood was spent in the magical world, so letting Filch leave was akin to killing him. He just coasted through life until one day, this middle-aged person found a newspaper in the trash—or in the hands of a wizard on the street—that completely changed his fate. ＲΑ??Ο??????
Seeing the job ad, thus ca the castle custodian, Filch.
"Exactly! I still ca to Hogwarts! Thirty years late, but I ca. You don't know how envious I am of these young students..." Filch seed almost crazy, his face contorted strangely on one side, trembling, as if for the first ti, he was revealing the dark secrets lurking within.
Valen, playing with the colorful figurines, was stunned, staring blankly at Filch losing control of his expressions. It looked at the big boss, then at Filch, unsure whether to slip out and call its family's cat over. Its snot was about to drip into the bucket.
Fortunately, Filch quickly pulled out a filthy handkerchief from his pocket. He blew his nose vigorously, causing pieces of the cloth to fly. Filch raised his head, revealing a bright red nose, smiling ingratiatingly. "Professor Heap, forgive
for the display. You are one of the few who have helped
here at the school, and I feel there's no need to hide—"
He t a pair of silver eyes, silver light covering the pupils and whites. He had never seen such a sight, and he couldn't find words.
"Filch, do you know the definition of a Squib?" Felix asked.
Filch felt perplexed; he had intended to explain from the beginning but was stopped by Felix, now he thought Felix was mocking him, and his face turned ugly.
"Similar to many concepts in the wizarding world, a Squib is a rather broad term, and we can define it from various perspectives," Felix spoke calmly. "The widely accepted definition in the magical world is—soone born into a wizarding family but unable to display any magical ability, they are called Squibs."
Filch looked at him blankly.
"Professor Heap?"
"I hope you notice the subtle differences here; this is crucial for the conversation to continue—" Filch's face showed evident confusion, but he obediently closed his mouth. Professor Heap's expression was sowhat terrifying at the mont. "—many parents cannot even be sure if their children are Squibs, it's not quantifiable... What truly gives them closure is the Hogwarts letter. If received, naturally, they are not Squibs,
correct?"
"Correct, correct," Filch nodded, understanding.
"However," Felix continued, "let's return to the nature of your 'magical' situation. Have you ever experienced small, occasional, even illusory experiences? Such as flicking a small piece of paper, lessening the force before a cup shatters... Have you experienced this?"
Filch froze. He stamred, "I...I haven't—"
"No, you misunderstand my aning..." Felix's silver eyes gazed at him, staring at the faint magic inside him, like stubborn stones. But that was an exaggerated taphor; from any perspective, magic and stones were entirely different. They couldn't be compared.
Felix murmured, "Not a complete spell, but those small, occasional, even illusory experiences: flicking a small piece of paper, lessening the force before a cup shatters... Have you experienced this?"
"I..." Filch racked his brain, trying to recall. "I think so... Wait!" He suddenly exclaid, startling Valen, which raised its tiny wand defensively. Filch strained to widen his eyes, shining with the light of recollection. "I rember a few years ago, there was a particularly stubborn stain, I used a whole bottle of detergent, it didn't work, so I stared at it, kept staring at it... felt a bit trance-like, and then it was gone... Is that it?"
He looked at Felix expectantly.
"We can try," Felix said with interest. He jumped off the armchair, resembling soone intrigued by an interesting experint.
Half an hour later, Filch left excitedly.
"Mr. Filch," Felix called him from behind, "your magical response is too weak. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask—"
"Oh no, this is good enough for ," Filch said cheerfully, holding a small gem-encrusted wooden stick, "Even if it works only once in ten tries, it's a huge success for !"
But not for , Felix thought.
After careful study, he discovered that Filch's magical fluctuations were much weaker than Valen's. Even comparing Valen and Filch was a bit unfair; while Valen was a Niffler, it was a normal Niffler, not a Squib Niffler.
In terms of talent, it was a clear win for Valen.
Felix devoted a lot of thought, eventually adding five "amplification circuits" before there was any slight effect. The result was the small wooden stick set with seven gems: one for storing magic, five engraved with amplification circuits, and only the last one contained a real spell—a cleaning charm.
For now, that was the extent of it.
Felix pulled back his scattered thoughts and calmly said, "You misunderstood, Agus. I ant your situation is quite typical. I plan to take so ti to study a few similar cases—of course, not right now. Do you know any friends who face similar challenges as you?"
Filch blinked a couple of tis, tentatively asking, "Do you want to et them?"
Felix shrugged, "As you said, the Ministry doesn't have their nas. Finding them won't be easy..."
Closing the door, Felix sat on the sofa, playing Exploding Snap with Valen.
But his thoughts had flown elsewhere.
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