Argus Filch prided himself on three things:
His ability to catch rule-breakers before they even thought about breaking rules.
His devoted bond with Mrs. Norris, the only creature in the school who understood his pain.
His unrelenting hatred of broom closets.
Which is precisely why this night ... a Tuesday, always the worst ... was particularly offensive.
Because once again, the same broom closet on the third-floor corridor was… rattling.
Rattling like it contained a wild hippogriff.
Or a seventh-year Hufflepuff who had accidentally eaten a Skiving Snackbox.
Or...
Filch grimaced.
...students doing things they shouldn't be doing.
Show your support
Support me!!
Write a comment ...