Filch had just finished mopping up the mess left by a student who had dropped several bottles of ink all over the corridor next to Throckmorton's office.  It had taken him over an hour even with Ink Gone solution, to scrub the flagstones free of ink.  He straightened slowly, these days his joints ached worse than ever in the cold and damp, and the castle was always somewhat drafty.  He set aside his brush and pail, wiping his forehead with a damp rag.  Damn lazy good-for-nothing kids! Always making more work for me.  Should have made sure the ink was stoppered correctly and in a case.  That was what we were taught, back in my day.  Why if I'd wasted that much expensive ink, I'd have gotten the hide stripped off of me.  Kids these days have no appreciation for what things cost.  Spoiled, all of ‘em.

His familiar, Mrs. Norris, appeared and wound her skinny body around his ankles, purring rustily.  "Ah, how's my girl?" Argus crooned, kneeling to stroke the cat's back.  He always found her purring soothing to his nerves.  He had learned long ago that when people rejected you for being born without magic, an animal never would. 

The cat's purring increased, until her striped ribcage vibrated, and Argus scratched her beneath the chin.  "Did ye have a nice hunt then, my beauty?"

The cat rubbed herself along his leg in answer, her yellow eyes half-lidded. 

Suddenly, Filch caught the sound of raised voices coming from the direction of Throckmorton's office.  One voice he recognized as the Defense professor, and his lip curled.  He had met the Durmstrang wizard just once, at the beginning of the year, and Throckmorton had made it clear that he considered speaking with Squibs a great concession.  Filch disliked him intensely, and whenever he cleaned the DADA classroom, he never did quite as good a job on it as he did on the Transfiguration classroom or the Potions classroom. 

But it was the second voice that made Filch nearly topple over.

For the second voice was unmistakably Albus Dumebledore's and he was clearly quite peeved at the other man. 

Unable to restrain his curiosity, Filch rose and crept over to the closed office door.  He knew quite well that what he was about to do was the height of bad manners, but his curiosity was killing him.  He could count on one hand the times Albus had ever raised his voice to someone on his staff, much less given a teacher a thorough dressing down.

Concealing a gleeful smirk, Argus pressed his ear to the door.

* * * * * *

" . . .I had thought I had made it quite clear to you, Mister Throckmorton, that you were to tend to your classes and not concern yourself with the guests I had invited to the school," Albus said, his blue eyes flashing. 

Throckmorton eyed the Headmaster with a barely disguised sneer and said stiffly, "I did not seek the girl out, if that is what you are implying.  I discovered her inside the corral with the unicorn foals when I went down to Hagrid's to procure some doxies.  It was then that I saw her and her insolent brat of  a brother petting the unicorns.  She was polluting the unicorn with her touch, Headmaster! Such a thing would never have been permitted at Durmstrang."

"But, Mr. Throckmorton," Albus said through gritted teeth, clearly the man was like a stone wall, all his attempts at gentle persuasion had failed.  Perhaps a direct approach was best.  "We are not at Durmstrang, we are at Hogwarts.  And in my tenure as Headmaster, I have tried to eliminate needless prejudice towards Squibs, Muggleborns, and half-bloods.  They serve no purpose and only antagonize and reopen old wounds."

Throckmorton snorted.  "Ah, I know, you are the great liberator, the champion of the downtrodden, Albus Dumbeldore.  You cheapen your student body by allowing all sorts of people to attend and be employed here.  A half-giant gamekeeper, a failed Seer, a Squib steward, a half-blood professor.  Why, I have even heard rumors that you once adopted a half-breed boy. Apparently he was part sprite, or at least that is what they say."

Dumbledore felt his temper start to slip its leash when Throckmorton mentioned Julian, the child he had loved and lost years ago, but had somehow never stopped missing.  "And do you listen to gossip often, Throckmorton? Because if so you might find it has a nasty way of turning back upon you when you least expect it. Yes, my son was a half-sprite, he had been abandoned as a baby and I and my wife were the only wizarding family willing to raise such a child.  And he was smarter and stronger in magic than many a child from a pureblood family.  But that is neither here nor there." He drew himself up, and glowered down upon the younger man.  "When I employed you, sir, I did so knowing you harbored certain prejudices towards minorities.  I also did so knowing you had been in trouble with your previous employer for being "too strict" with a student.  But I figured that you were willing to work with me and deserved a second chance to make something of yourself.  All of us deserve a second chance. But-"

"I was not aware my beliefs were on trial here, Headmaster.  And was it not you who told me that my past did not matter?" interrupted the Defense teacher.

"Do not interrupt me, Throckmorton!" snapped Dumbledore.  "Your past does not matter so long as you do not repeat the mistakes that led to your near dismissal from Durmstrang.  I forbid you to raise a hand towards a child here, and I also forbid you to humiliate Holly Sinclair.  She has done nothing to warrant such treatment, and as a guest she is under my protection."

"You claim that I am allowed to speak my mind, and then you scold me like a child when I do so!" exclaimed Throckmorton angrily.  "You are nothing more than a hypocrite! Squibs are the dregs of society, everyone knows that.  Good only for manual labor.  Where I come from, they are not even allowed a vote on the Wizard Council, nor are they allowed to attend school with normal wizard children.  Since that girl set foot here, I have been threatened bodily by your Potions Master, and you simply sat there and allowed him to abuse me! Where then is the fair play in that, Dumbledore?"

"Severus reacted the way any father would if someone insulted his child.  And he issued a warning, he did not harm you, Throckmorton."

"Lucky for him! I have powerful friends in the Ministry, Dumbledore.  And if Snape had attacked me, I would have had him arrested and charged with assault before you could say Avada Kedavra! So best you keep your pet Potions Master on a leash, sir!"

"An empty threat, Throckmorton." Dumbledore said coldly.  "You forget, I am a prominent Minstry official myself, and I would vouch for Severus any day of the week.  Lucius Malfoy might have sponsored you, but you have no authority here, Victor Throckmorton.  That still belongs to me and thus I shall tell you once more-live and let live, Mr. Throckmorton! Leave Holly Sinclair and her brother alone, it is not your place to instruct them, discipline them, or otherwise involve yourself in their lives.  This is Britain and we do not persecute innocents here-have I made myself clear?" he thundered that last word, and lightning sizzled in his gaze, making Throckmorton jump and cringe like a terrified animal.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore pointed a finger and a blue streak shot from it and wrapped about Throckmorton's mouth.  "Silence! I am not finished yet! Should I find that you have broken your promise to me yet again, Mr. Throckmorton, you will be leaving the school immediately, your contract terminated, and you will be lucky if you walk out of here on two feet.  Perhaps a few months as a rat shall teach you some much needed humility.  Understand?"

The other wizard nodded mutely, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his eyes wide and frightened.  He had thought Dumbledore a meek mild old man, one who did not exercise his authority and was a pushover.  But this wizard was none of those things, indeed he was terrifying.  Throckmorton could feel the power surging in the room, it made all his hair stand on end, it was as if he were in the center of a hurricane, held at bay by a single thread.  Dumbeldore's aura fairly crackled with raw magic, more than the younger wizard had ever seen wielded by a person before.  Not even Igor Karkaroff had radiated such power.

Only then did Victor Throckmorton comprehend what he had unleashed, as he huddled behind his desk, looking into the burning cold eyes of the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared.  Gone was the cheerful old man who loved sweets, in his place was a fearsome warrior mage, one who could hurl down fiery mountains and call up tornadoes and stop an avalanche with a single word. 

And he found himself shivering, as frightened as he had been when a dog had bitten him as a six-year-old. 

Abruptly, the silencing ribbon vanished and Throckmorton found he could speak again. 

The first words out of his mouth were, "Understood, sir.  I will not come near them again, I swear upon my wand."

"Very good, my boy," Dumbledore said calmly, the lightning in his eyes flickering and dying, and replaced by that vaguely befuddled look he usually wore.  "I trust you will keep your word."

"I will, Headmaster," promised Throckmorton, trembling slightly.  Inwardly he was howling and cursing himself for a coward, but he did not dare cross the other wizard. He had seen firsthand that the grandfatherly façade Dumbledore presented to the world concealed a dragon within. 

"Excellent.  Then I trust I shall not need to have this discussion again." Dumbledore said, and gave the other man a nod.  "Oh, and by the way, you should expect a visit from Professor Snape as well.  I trust you will remain civil and not threaten to duel him, Victor? For I should hate to have to go looking for a replacement Defense teacher this late in the term. So do try and remember that, won't you?"

"Yes, sir," he said through gritted teeth. The damnable twinkle was back in the elder wizard's eyes, Throckmorton noted irritably. And he had in effect been told to let Snape verbally thrash him, he thought sullenly.  This job sucked, it was not at all the cushy post he had been promised by Lucius.  It was typical of his luck.  I hate children.  Especially whiny tattling Squibs and impudent whelps like that Snape boy.  They all should be beaten till they howl and then thrown to wolves.

"Good evening then, Victor.  Lemon drop?" Albus inquired, holding out one on his hand.

"No thank you, sir.  Good evening."

Dumbledore nodded and swept towards the fireplace, leaving a sulky and fuming Defense Against the Dark Arts professor sitting stunned in his chair, and a delighted and amazed Argus Filch standing in the corridor.

"Blimey, pretty girl! Guess Albus told the bugger a thing or two, eh?" chuckled Filch, and Mrs. Norris meowed in agreement.  "Good old Albus! He really is a true friend."

Then he scooped up Mrs. Norris and waltzed away down the corridor, happier than he had felt in months.

* * * * * *

A few days afterward, Holly was heading down to the library, intending to check out a book Severus had recommended in the Magical Creatures section about unicorns, how to feed and care for them, and the true stories versus the myths and legends.  Harry had gone to play Quidditch with the Weasley twins, he had asked if Holly wanted to watch, but she had told him no.  Watching people flying was not fun, and she knew she didn't have magic enough to fly a broom herself, so instead she opted to read. 

Severus was in class and Silver outside in the forest somewhere, but Holly was not afraid of meeting anyone in the castle save Throckmorton, whom Severus had assured her had his backside kicked most thoroughly by both Albus and himself. Just thinking about that made her smile.  It was nice to have someone who cared looking out for her again.  Better hurry and get that book, Holly.  Before it gets too late for you to read it.  You've got lessons with Severus and therapy with Healer Sue this afternoon, she reminded herself. And you have to find Harry too. She clutched her map and the little disk Severus had given her, which would allow her to check a book out of the library.

She was to show the disk to Madam Pince, he had instructed, and she would be able to assist Holly in finding the unicorn book.  "The library is very large and some of the books are not arranged alphabetically, but Madam Pince will know exactly where the book you want is.  Once you have it, go and find your brother, it's almost time for his potions lesson with me.  I have one more class to teach before my free period."

Holly had set off, promising she would bring Harry back as soon as possible.  She found the library quite easily, the map led her directly to it, and Madam Pince sniffed, looked at the black disk Holly had presented, and said the book had to be returned within fourteen days.  Then she waved her wand and a book suddenly appeared on her desk.  "This one is what you're looking for," she said, indicating a lovely volume bound in green leather with a beautifully illustrated cover accented in golden sparkles.  "Please take care with this, it's my only copy and it is over a hundred years old."

Holly looked at the book in awe before taking it reverently.  "Yes, ma'am.  I'll wash my hands before I read it. How come the pages aren't falling apart if it's that old?"

"Preserving spell on the parchment, of course," said Madam Pince.

"Oh.  Right.  Well, thank you very much, Madam Pince."

"You are welcome, Miss Snape.  Run along now and mind you return the book on time."

"Thank you, I shall!" Holly called, hugging the book to her and skipping out of the library.  She was so excited about the book that she didn't even bother to correct the librarian about her name.  She didn't really mind the mistake anyway, she wanted to be a Snape. Severus had even cast a charm on her that changed her platinum hair to a darker golden brown and altered the shape of her nose and chin so that her resemblance to her father was less pronounced.  She was much happier now, for she looked more like her mother, who had always loved her.

She consulted the map again and discovered the quickest way out of the castle was down the right hand corridor.  She was trying to walk quickly and look at the map at the same time and so didn't notice that the floor had just been mopped and the one who was doing the mopping was just ahead of her, swishing the mop with a vengeance while a striped tabby sat atop an overturned bucket, her tail tucked neatly about her white feet.

One minute Holly was walking and the next she was skidding across the floor on her bottom, to crash right into the mop-wielding Argus Filch.

"Bloody hell!" yelped the startled steward.  "Can't you kids ever watch where you're going?"

Holly looked up at the annoyed man, blushing.  "Sorry, sir! I didn't notice the floor was wet, I was trying to find my brother.  He's got potions soon and Dad doesn't like it when he's late for a lesson." She looked ruefully down at herself, her bottom was wet and so were the backs of her jeans.  But at least the book was safe, she had held onto it for dear life.  "Maybe next time you could put up a sign," she suggested, slowly climbing to her feet.

Filch snorted.  "A sign? You have eyes, girl, you should learn to use ‘em."

"Yes, but a sign would have made me watch out for wet floors." Holly argued.  "You could get one in a thrift store, they sell them cheap there.  They're made of plastic and say Caution! Wet Floor! Then kids won't slip and crash into you so much."

Filch started to snap at her, but then he took another look and realized what she said made sense.  "Humph! Maybe I will."

Holly stood up gingerly and brushed futilely at her wet seat.  "Darn! Now I'm going to have to go change once I get back home."

"Don't you know a Drying Charm yet?" asked Filch.

"No, sir.  I can't cast spells." Holly replied softly. 

Filch narrowed his eyes.  "Can't cast spells? But all the kids here are wizards except . . ."

"Except me." Holly said.

"You're Snape's ward, aren't you? The one he found in the snow in Diagon Alley, right?"

"Yes.  I'm Holly Sinclair." She held out a hand.  "Pleased to meet you . . .?"

"Argus Filch.  But you just call me Mr. Filch. " Argus supplied.  He studied the little girl closely, for he had not met many other Squibs, and never one so young. 

"Oh! You're a Squib too.  Professor Dumbledore told me that."

"Aye," Filch admitted quietly.  "Though it's not something I like to advertise, you know what I mean?"

Holly nodded in understanding.  "'Cause then they make fun of you and call you a freak and stuff."

Filch suppressed a wince, for the girl's matter-of-fact tone recalled unpleasant memories of a time long ago, when a skinny shy boy had been surrounded by other wizard children and taunted and poked with sticks and mocked until he burst into tears and ran away home, only to face the wrath of his father for cutting school. He flinched again, remembering his father's accusation of being a coward and shaming the family even further.  Those  words had hurt more than the switching he'd gotten afterwards, knowing that his father thought he was a disgrace and not fit to be his son. Even after all those years, they still stung.

"Forty years and nothing's changed," he muttered, half to himself.  "Those of us born without magic's blessing are cursed indeed."

"Cursed?"

"Aye, or so my father always told me."

"Sounds kind of like my father.  Only he said I was worthless and good-for-nothing. And that I wasn't his daughter."

Her words conjured more memories.  Himself at sixteen, returning home after a stay in St. Mungos, having almost blown himself up trying to make a potion that was supposed to give a Squib the gift of magic so then his father would be proud of him, only to be summoned into Father's study and told he was to leave.  "It's obvious to us all that you'll never develop magic if you haven't by now, Argus.  And I cannot hold my post as Ambassador to the French Ministry with a Squib child hanging onto my robes.  You are old enough to make your own way in the world, you can learn a trade at least. Here, take this bag of Galleons and this cloak, it was your grandfather's.  Now go upstairs and pack, you can bid your mother and sister goodbye tomorrow morning."

Those were the last words his father had ever spoken to him, Argus thought bitterly.  He had left home the next morning and never seen his family again.  They were probably better off without him, he had thought then.  He had always been an embarrassment, the only child in the family who couldn't cast a spell to save his life.  It was only years later that he came to realize that he had been mistreated, that he never should have been sent away, like an unwanted pair of shoes.

"That's what they all think, them high and mighty wizard folk," he burst out angrily, seeing in the girl an echo of the lost boy he had once been.  "They forget though, we came from them! And but for a twist of fate, they could have been like us!"

"You're right.  I never thought about it like that before."

"Aye, well, I've had plenty of time t'think on it, seeing as I'm a bit older than you, lass."

"Can you do anything at all with the little magic you've got, Mr. Filch?"

"Some.  I can light a candle and sometimes I can call Mrs. Norris from across the castle, but that's all. And you?" He indicated the cat sitting calmly on the bucket.

"I can See in fire.  Sometimes.  My mum said it was a rare gift and it made me special."

"'Tis so.  Where be your mother now?"

"She died.  In a potions accident.  That's how come I'm living with Severus and Harry."

"The professor's a decent sort." Filch grunted, returning to mopping the floor. "He don't sneer at me and he helps me patrol the halls at night, make sure all the students are in bed and not up to mischief.  But guess that's ‘cause he's a half-blood himself.  Us outcast sorts flock together."

"But not all wizards are bad.  My mum was a witch and she loved me even though I couldn't do real magic.  And Harry likes me all right and so does Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore.  He told me I'm always welcome here."

"There are a few good ones," Filch admitted.  "But not too many.  You were lucky, girl, that Harry found you and not someone else."

"It wasn't luck.  It was more like . . .destiny.  You see, I Saw it in a match flame, that I would either die and go to heaven with mum, or be rescued by Harry and Severus.  And that's what happened."

"You Saw true? At your age?" Filch gaped at her.  "That's a powerful rare gift you've got, girlie.  The Divination teacher here can't even do that."

"But I thought you had to be a Seer in order to teach that class."

"That's how it should be, but Sybill Trelawney ain't had a real Seeing in I don't know when.  She's another of the Headmaster's hard luck cases.  Like Hagrid.  And me.  And you too."

"He's a great wizard, everyone says so.  So why does he care about Squibs like us?"

Filch shrugged.  "It's just his way.  He supports the ones who need him most.  He used to have a family too, once upon a time."

"What happened to them?  Did they kick him out?"

"No.  His wife and two kids died from the Great Plague back in 1955.  An' his son Julian was a half-breed, part sprite, that he and his wife Leanna adopted.  I think that's why he fights so hard for people like me.  He does it in memory of his son."

"Did you know him then? Dumbledore's son?"

"Aye.  Julian Albus Dumbledore was his name.  And he was as full of mischief as a pixie and strong in magic.  Got that from bein' part sprite, I suppose, since sprites are born magic.  But his father loved him, even when Julian drove him crazy with his pranks.  Made Albus laugh, sometimes, and other times made him want to rip out his hair.  But he was soft on the kid, couldn't bring himself to punish him most times, even if it was deserved. Only gave him one spanking an' it were ‘cause of me."

"Why?"

"Julian was about five then an' was having a birthday and Albus invited me to it.  But the kid threw a fit and said only people with magic could come.  He picked up that attitude from school, see, but Albus wouldn't put up with it.  He tried to reason with the kid, but Julian could be stubborn as an oak root and he wouldn't listen to anything Albus said. Finally Julian went too far, called me a dirty Squib and Albus lost his temper and tanned his backside. Told me later he felt so bad he nearly cried, but the kid learned his lesson." Filch shook his head.  "Julian was a scamp, but you couldn't help liking him. Just about killed Albus when he died, we all thought he was gonna make it, see, and coming so quick after losing his wife an' little daughter, Felicia . . .He started to get better, or so we thought, but then . . . he looked at Albus one morning and said, "I'm sorry, Papa.  I'm so tired . . ." and he died.  He'd been using glamours to make believe he was better, so Albus wouldn't worry. He was real good at them, since he was half-sprite."

Holly sniffled.  "That's awful! Poor Professor Dumbledore!"

"Aye.  It were a bad time, lass.  A bad time. The plague took one in ten wizards, I think, and the only ones who were immune to it were those who'd had it and lived or Squibs.  First time I actually was glad I didn't have magic. I worked in the hospital then, taking care of them that were took sick.  Hardly got any thanks for it, mind, but I did it for Albus.  The school closed then, and I didn't need to work. First time ever those wizards didn't look at me as if I were dirt.  ‘Course that didn't last too long."

"How come? You saved their lives, right?"

"Sure, but here's the thing.  Those I saved were grateful for it, but they didn't like owing their lives to the likes of me.  So, once the plague passed, it was back to being nothing but a Squib again."

"But that's not fair!"

"Who ever said life was fair, girl? You know as well as I it ain't.  Else you'd be living home with your father instead of here."

"Maybe.  But living with Severus is a lot better than living with my real father.  All he cared about was my inheriting his magic.  Severus says . . .he says my dad's an ass and he threw away the best treasure ever."

"You hang on to him, lass.  If there's one thing I learned it's that true friends in this world are rarer than a leprechaun carrying true gold.  And when you find one, best you hold onto him tight.  ‘Cause you can't trust wizards normally.  The only ones you can depend on are yourself and your familiar.  Animals are loyal, they don't care what you are." He cast a fond look over at Mrs. Norris.  "Right, my beauty?"

Mrs. Norris jumped into his arms and purred. Filch cradled her and his craggy face softened.  "Get yourself a cat, young lady. Severus won't mind it, not after that great beast of a dog.  Then you'll have everything you'll ever want."

Holly reached out to pet the tabby, when suddenly the bell rang for lunch.  "Oh no! I'm late and I gotta find Harry!" She started to run down the corridor.

"Wait, girl!" Filch called.  He beckoned her over to the side of the wall and tugged on a sconce. 

A secret passage slid open.  "Go through there, it'll bring you out by the Quidditch pitch.  Quicker than taking the stairs."

"Thanks! Severus will skin us if we're late!"

"Don't mention it.  Now get!" he gave her a gentle shove through the passage.  "I have tea at four on Saturdays, come by if you want!"

"Can I bring Harry?" she called over her shoulder.

"So long as he minds his manners, yes."

"Okay! Bye, Mr. Filch.  It was nice talking to you!"

Filch snorted.  "Must be goin' soft.  Kids used to be afraid of me.  Now I'm inviting them to tea. Ha!" Then he slid the passageway shut and returned to his cleaning.

* * * * * *

When Holly at last found Harry, she was quick to show him the secret passage and tell him of her impromptu meeting with the castle steward.

"You talked with Filch?" Harry stared at her in surprise.  "But the twins told me he was mean and grouchy and didn't like kids."

"Well, maybe he acts all mean because people have treated him that way for a long time.  Wouldn't you be bitter and mean if you were treated like . . .like dirt, Harry?"

"Umm . . .yeah, I guess so." Harry said.  "I never really thought about it before.  What did you talk about?"

"Lots of things.  He told me about the plague and how Professor Dumbledore lost his whole family . . .he had a daughter named Felicia and a son named Julian and they both died . . ."

"Merlin, I never knew he had kids!" Harry exclaimed.  "He never said."

"Maybe he doesn't like to talk about it because it makes him sad," said his sister.

"Probably." Harry agreed, they had almost reached the dungeons now.  "And he invited us to tea on Saturday.  Think Dad will let us go?"

"Sure, I don't see why not."

"Wonder what potion Dad will have me brewing today?"

"Haven't a clue.  But I'm doing fractions." She made a face.  "I hate fractions!"

"Be glad you don't have potions then.  It's all about fractions." Harry laughed. 

"Merlin, then I am glad." Then she looked down at her library book.  "But at least once I'm done with lessons I can read."

"Read? I'm taking a nap." Her brother rolled his eyes.

"I'd rather read than sleep." Holly said primly.

"You're so weird, Holl."

She stuck her tongue out at him.  "Sleepyhead!"

"Bookworm!"

"Lazybones!"

"Encyclopedia!"

They caught several odd looks from other students making their way from Potions class, but the two ignored them and continued tossing good-natured insults at one another until they reached Snape's quarters.  By that time they were laughing, which made Severus raise an eyebrow and wonder what they had been up to.