A/N In honor of the queue being reopened, I am posting this one-shot fic in the hopes of cheering up people left depressed by the ending of HBP and the long wait to...well, book seven. Actually, I was just really bored.

This story begins after the events of page 308 in the American version of HBP.

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"Desecration," muttered Madame Pince as she returned books to their shelves with an expert flick of her wand. "Writing in textbooks...what's next? Dropping them in the tub or throwing them down the loo?"

With a huff, she dimmed the lights and left the library, locking it as she went. Clutching a stack of books with her clawlike hands, she set of for her own living quarters.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Those little monsters," grumbled Filch as two terrified first years scampered away, leaving their Fanged Frisbees behind with the cantankerous caretaker. "I'll have them all hanging by their ankles it if's the last thing I do!" Mrs. Norris wound about his ankles, purring rustily.

"Come along, my sweet," he crooned to the dusty, mangy cat. "Let's go off to bed."

He headed down the hallway, Mrs. Norris following faithfully. From around the corner came Madame Pince, still muttering. The two collided with a splendid crash as Fanged Frisbees and books went flying.

"I'm terribly sorry," said Madame Pince, hurrying to gather her books.

"No, no," said Filch, assisting her. "It was entirely..." They had both reached for the same book and his hand rested atop of hers.

"...my fault," he finished. He took in her dull grey eyes and wrinkled face, her salt and pepper hair, sticking crazily all over the place.

Madame Pince sighed audibly observing his redrimmed eyes, receding hairline, and moldy waistcoat.

"Don't be silly," she tittered, in a falsely girlish voice. "I should have been watching where I was going. These monstroud children have been plaguing me all day and I found that despicable Potter boy desecrating a book. I'm afraid it all has me rather flustered."

"Oh no, I understand," insisted Filch. "I've found more of those Weasley products today and my head just isn't on straight." They both stood and he handed the book over.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I guess I'll just say good-"

"Would you like to join me for a little nightcap?" Madame Pince asked very quickly, blushing slightly.

Filch turned red as well. "Certainly. Just a quick one, though."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Madame Pince uncorked a bottle of firewhiskey and tipped it into two glasses. Filch took one.

"Here's to clean hallways and empty wastebins!" he said.

"To alphabetizing and new books!" They both drank deeply.

"Do you know, Madame, that you have absolutely beautiful, luminous eyes? They remind me of a freshly cleaned chalkboard!"

Madame Pince giggled. "Why Argus, what a flattering thing to say! Another glass, then?"

"I never say no to firewhiskey, Madame Pince," chortled Filch, holding out his glass.

"Oh, do call me Prudence," said Madame Pince, refilling it as well as her own.

"To punishing rule breakers," she said.

"And to cruel and unusual punishment!" shouted Filch, downing the firewhiskey in one gulp.

"Speaking of which, Prudence, have you ever seen my office?" asked Filch.

"Why no, Argus. I don't believe that I've had the pleasure." She smiled in what she believed to be a sweet manner.

"Shall we?" he said, offering his arm, his eyes bleary.

"Oh yes," she said, drunkenly. "Only, we must take the bottle as well."

Madame Pince opened the door and she and Filch left together, arm in arm, while Mrs. Norris, who had been locked outside, followed, her tail raised haughtily.

"How magnificent," breathed Madame Pomfrey as Filch opened up his office door. She walked in and caressed the gleaming chains suspended from the wall. Tears filled her eyes.

"This is just beautiful, Argus."

"I thought you would appreciate 'em," Filch responded gruffly. "Keep 'em tight and well oiled. Dumbledore's too soft to let me use 'em but someday..."

"Yes, Dumbledore is rather easy going. Not like the wonderful Umbridge woman. Why, Dumbledore," she lowered her voice dramatically. "He actually wrote in a book once."

"He didn't!" Filch said. "Here, Prudence, drink up." He passed her the whole bottle. "Drink this, I've got another."

"You're so sensitive and caring, Argus," whispered Madame Pince, taking the bottle.

"To you!"

"To you!" he replied.

She took a large gulp and suddenly, her face looked strange.

"Ah-ah-achoo!"

"Bless you," Filch said tipsily.

Madame Pince hiccuped, then sneezed again.

"My dear Prudence," said Filch. "You're horribly drunk!"

"I-hic-am not! Achoo!" She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I drunk it is you who thinks!"

"Now see here!" Filch stood, swaying. "What an awful thing to say!"

"Achoo!"

"Would you stop that racket!"

"I can't--hic," said Madame Pince. "I'm allergic to cats!" She sneezed again as Filch swelled like an angry bullfrog.

"YOU WHAT?!"

"Is dat filthy anibal around?" asked Madame Pince before sneezing three times in a row.

"Filthy? My Mrs. Norris, filthy! How dare you, you...woman! Take that!" And Filch seized a book from his shelf and started to rip pages from it. Madame Pince's eyes grew wide, a vein standing out on her neck.

"You-you dared! You ignorant little, long-nosed, mangy haired, cat-loving Squib!"

Filch's jaw dropped open. "Who told?"

Madame Pince laughed, cruelly. "Everyone knows. They've known it for years. Forever!" She turned, crashing into a table, swaying as she tried to leave the room.

"Achoo! Get out of my way, you dusty, old-"

Something inside of Filch snapped and he lunged for her. Drunkenly, he seized her by the legs and she screamed as he dragged her over to the chains hanging from the walls. Grabbing hold of her flailing ankles, he locked the manacles on and hoisted her up.

He laughed as he plucked her wand from her hand. "I've never enjoyed books," he slurred. "The only thing they're good for is rags for wiping windows!"

"Filch!" screamed Madame Pince. "I'll get you for this if it's the last thing I do!"

"I hope so, you miserable old bat!" he called, heading for the door.

Madame Pince sneezed and he laughed. "Stay Mrs. Norris, and guard her." He slammed the door shut behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later, Filch was casually leaning against his office door when Slughorn walked by.

"Excuse me," the Potions master said. "Have you seen Madame Pince? I've been trying to turn this library book in before it's late but she's nowhere to be found."

Filch shrugged. "I haven't seen her Professor."

A muffled wailing came from his office.

"Mr. Filch, what is that racket?"

"That? Just Mrs. Norris. She found an especially large rat to play with."

Slughorn nodded. "I see. Well, good night Mr. Filch."

The portly Professor waddled down the hallway. Just before he was out of hearing, one last sound reached his ears.

"ACHOO!"

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I was reading HBP one day and feeling kind of low. It was all just so depressing, I had to salvage some happiness from it. The idea came to me reading page 308 in the American version. I came up with this. I hope you enjoy it greatly and if you would like to see more of my work, "To See You Through the Dark" is now 45 chapters long. Please review for me, it makes me so happy, I just want to grin!