“Ouch! Wotcher Harry! That’s my foot!”
“Sorry.”
“Shh!” hissed Hermione. “Did you want Filch to catch us here?” Throwing the boys a glare for good measure, Hermione turned back to the bookshelf. “We’ve got to find out what Harry’s been hearing in these walls. Whatever it is, it’s on a mad rampage for blood!” Muttering inaudibly and almost madly, Hermione used her free hand to skim the spines of the tomes as she used her other hand to direct the lamplight as she read the titles under her breath.
“Bloody hell, mate. You just had to complain to Hermione about a few rats in the walls eh? Now she’s got us up from our beds to do research when we’ve got our Potions essay due tomorrow!” Ron stifled a yawn as he straightened from the crouched position to stretch.
“Ron!” Hermione whispered urgently between clenched teeth. “Get down! Our feet are showing!” She thrust her index finger toward the floor as her nostrils flared with anger. Indeed, as Ron looked down, he could make out the shape of three pairs of walking shoes appearing seemingly out of thin air.
Ron sighed. “Sorry, Hermione.” As Hermione turned, somewhat satisfied, Ron mumbled to Harry, “It’s not like Filch would actually see our feet in this darkness. Honestly, I think this meandering in the library’s not doing too well to our friend’s attic.”
Harry smiled tightly as the trio prepared to move on to the next shelf of books. “Well, in her defense, I’m the one hearing ““
Ron and Harry suddenly ran smack into Hermione’s rigid form. “Ouch! Hermione! Why’d you-“
A cool, clammy hand clamped onto Ron’s mouth, muffling his yell of protest. “Shh! Someone’s coming!” The light from their lamp suddenly extinguished as the trio froze in terror and anticipation. The cold, pitch-black darkness swallowed the friends ominously as they waited for their hearts to stop their deafening thumping.
The three of them held their breaths as they listened to the approach of the rapid footsteps and watched the approach of the single candle. As the group tried to shuffle out from the middle of the aisle under the Invisibility Cloak, the unmistakable silhouette of Argus Filch appeared at the end of the aisle, cutting off their escape route. The absence of Filch’s constant companion Mrs. Norris reminded the three sharply of what they were in the library for.
Ron growled, “Filch…”
“Shh!”
As the trio moved into the safety of the shadows of the bookshelf, they heard Filch pause as if taking in his surroundings before stalking off quickly toward the public section of the library.
Hermione placed a hand on her chest, controlling her breathing. “That was close.” She looked around the corner once more. “Right, let’s finish this.”
“Actually, I think that’s enough for one night,” Harry broke in scathingly. “I’m ready for bed, Hermione, and I’m sure Ron feels the same way.” When Hermione opened her mouth to protest, Harry pushed on, ignoring her. “You’ve always told us to do our essays and assignments on time. Well, now we will if we could just get back to the tower to do them. So either you’re coming with us, Hermione, under the relative safety of my cloak, or you’re staying here. With Filch. It’s up to you, Hermione, but I’m sure a girl with your brains can calculate how likely you are to get caught if you stay here.”
A tense silence passed over the trio. Hermione and Harry glared at each other as best they could in the dark, testing each other’s limits. Finally, Hermione gave up.
“Fine,” she snapped, turning around and marching toward the doors of the library with a fiery pace neither of the boys behind her could keep up with. “Suit yourself. But don’t you dare start complaining again when you hear the walls talking again. Honestly, Harry, I thought you wanted to resolve this once and-“
“Hermione!”
As the trio neared the entrance to the library, Harry pulled Hermione back under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak in the nick of time.
Standing in the doorway of the entrance was the severe figure of Madam Pince in her nightgown.
“Quick!” Harry ushered his friends behind the nearest bookshelf again, wincing at the echoing sounds of his shoes running across the stone floors. He looked behind his shoulders in surprise when Madam Pince seemed not to have noticed the cacophony of their rapid retreat.
In fact, Madam Pince seemed completely unaware of her surroundings. The candle she held in her hand flickered from side to side as if she was trembling. Her usually unyielding face was contorted with anxiety and doubt. Her usually sharp eyes squinted as she seemed to look for something in the shadowy library, her domain.
As Madam Pince continued to strain her neck in her vain search for something, or someone, the Gryffindors caught their breaths.
“Right, with the old vulture guarding this door, we’ll need to leave through the other door,” Hermione gasped, silently thanking Harry for her narrow escape and promising never to leave from under the Invisibility Cloak ever again.
“Leave? Now?”
Hermione glared at Harry, all thoughts of gratitude vanishing. “I thought you wanted to leave this library as soon as possible for your beds,” she replied bitingly.
“Well, yes, but Pince-“
Hermione snorted. “She probably had some dreadful nightmare about some students who defaced her precious books. There’s no need to worry about her. See?” Hermione glanced back at the still Madam Pince. “She’s not moving. So it means she didn’t see us. Now come on before Filch comes this way.”
Relenting, Harry shuffled quietly after Hermione as they made their way past Madam Pince and toward the second exit. As they walked past the Invisibility section of the library, Ron, who was reading the spines of the books sleepily, suddenly became wide awake. Stopping, and sliding out from underneath the cloak, his eyes stared hungrily at the heavy volume before him: Secrets Hidden from the Naked Eye: Spells of Deception and Concealment.
Deception and concealment… The idea of wandering around the grounds of Hogwarts undetected and unaided by an Invisibility Cloak was enticing. No more crouching to unbearable levels. No more having to follow Harry around for adventure. Why, he could leave every night if he wished! Imagine! A nighttime prowler, as infamous as the Weasley twins for his ingenuity and prowess! The secrets of Hogwarts would be his!
“Ron?”
Ron snapped out of his fantasies as he saw Harry and Hermione turn their heads questioningly toward him.
“Ron, we have to leave now before Filch and Pince come after us!”
Ron looked longingly at the book before him, knowing Hermione would never let him walk out of the library without checking it out. Acting on impulse, he whispered to his friends, “You go on ahead. I need to find some books to help with our Potions essay.”
Hermione’s eyes bulged with surprise. “Ron, you’ll get caught! Here, Ron, I’ll let you copy mine. But please, let’s leave now!” she pleaded frantically.
Ron shook his head solemnly. “Sorry, Hermione. I’ve copied off of you for too long. I need to start working and thinking on my own.”
Harry stared at Ron incredulously before composing himself. “Don’t you dare land yourself in detention without me, Ron. If you don’t make it back to the tower by midnight, I’m coming after you.”
Ron smiled surreptitiously. I doubt you’ll need to, he thought gleefully to himself. Aloud, he murmured, “Go now. Don’t worry about me. It’s too dark for those old bats to see me anyway. I’ll catch up with no problems.” He watched his friends disappear underneath the cloak. Tilting his head, he listened carefully for the sound of retreating footsteps and the click of the library door closing.
Immediately, Ron grabbed the thick hardback from its place on the dusty shelf. Opening it slowly, Ron began reading the introduction feverishly, eager to delve into the secrets of the stealth.
Invisibility, first accomplished in the days of Ancient Egypt, has gathered a number of practitioners and is now the major goal of most successful magical objects. However, with the large production of such objects, the real method of invisibility for a long period of time, has long been forgotten and dismissed.
As Ron’s eyes drank in every word, his ears pricked at the muffled sound of approaching steps. Ron froze; he knew it wasn’t Harry and Hermione returning. Shoving the book back in its place on the shelf, Ron crouched low, watching attentively for any sign of trouble.
“Argus!” Madam Pince’s voice echoed in the musty library. “Oh Argus!”
“Irma!”
Ron made a face at the guttural sound of Madam Pince’s first name coming out from the raspy throat of Argus Filch. From between the shelves, Ron could make out the crooked figure of Filch and the unfavorably thin one of Pince as they moved toward each other swiftly.
“Irma, what do you want?” Filch asked gruffly. His mind seemed to be elsewhere as he fidgeted and tapped his foot impatiently.
“Argus, don’t do this. Don’t push me away like this. Let me help!”
“You can’t help, Irma,” thundered Filch at the simpering Madam Pince. “No one can,” he said softly. “Mrs. Norris is gone because of that … that… Potter boy. He’s mad, that one. I knew it from the moment he stepped into this castle. And criminals like him always come back to the scene of the crime.” Filch’s wandering eyes snapped angrily back at Madam Pince. “And you’re keeping me away from my place next to it! I don’t have time to deal with you, Irma! Not now!”
“No, Argus!” A hint of the severity Madam Pince was infamous for came back. “Why do you insist on carrying all this hurt on your own shoulders? For Merlin’s sake, you need to move on! Let those who love you help you. Let me help you,” Madam Pince whispered.
Ron watched in awe as Filch’s hunched shape crumpled to the floor. Sobs racked the broken body as the library resonated with his heart-wrenching wails. Madam Pince lowered herself next to Filch as she ran a withered hand up and down Filch’s spine.
“Please Argus. Don’t hurt anymore. Albus said Mrs. Norris is only Petrified, not dead.”
“BUT SHE MIGHT AS WELL BE!” roared Filch, his voice quivering with wrath and misery. His shoulders shook with rage and distress. “This is going on for too long. The Dark Lord has expanded his followers even after death. When will we be rid of him once and for all? Look how much we’ve had to suffer!”
Madam Pince pleaded, “I know you’re angry at Potter, and you’ve got every right to be! But please, Argus, calm down! It isn’t good for your heart, you know, to get worked up like this.”
As Filch buried his head in Madam Pince’s shoulder in fatigue, she sighed heavily. “Secrecy. That’s what we were born into, Argus. That’s what we were made for. And that’s why our love will become stronger.
“We’re like a book, Argus. On the outside, we are the hard, sturdy protectors of what’s between us. We’re bound together, Argus, and in between, we have a love as strong as the binds that keep us together. A love that no number of words can describe.
“Remember how we always met here in this library every night? I used to spend my days in agony, looking forward to when the students left for bed.” She chuckled. “Sometimes I closed the library early, refusing all those desperate to finish a last-minute essay. The students used to hate me!”
Filch sat up slowly, placing his hand in Madam Pince’s. “No one who knows you could hate you, Irma.” He sighed. “I’ve been a fool, Irma. Forgive me.”
Irma stared deeply into Argus’ eyes as her own eyes welled with tears. Tears of sorrow, loss, love, and relief. Tears that shouldn’t run down her weathered face long ago.
“Argus Filch. You’ve been away too long.”
“Aye, Irma. I have.”
And there, on the stone-cold floors of the empty library, Irma Pince and Argus Filch shared the kiss completely thawed the bitter atmosphere that had engulfed the school. In their eyes, they were the only two people who existed in the world. No Dark Lord to strike fear into the hearts of millions. No Potter to break more school rules. Not even a Mrs. Norris to haunt Argus with her ghost.
Blessed were these two lovers to find a moment of peace.
Ron stumbled into the quiet warmth of the Gryffindor common room. He lowered himself shakily into the nearest armchair, indifferent to the concerned looks Hermione and Harry gave him.
“Bloody hell, Ron, you look completely miserable!”
Ron stared into the crackling fire with vacant eyes, knowing his friends would never understand the serenity and the desire to live and love he had experienced in the library. The power… unimaginable.
“Hermione, I need to see your Potions essay.”
End notes: This chapter follows as closely to canon as my knowledge of the Harry Potter universe as of June 19, 2006 allows. Any information revealed to be false by Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will not be changed.
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