I ran away when I was thirty-seven.
I would have left sooner, so much sooner, but I was terrified. You mustn’t think me a coward, because I’m not. I’m not a coward at all. If I were cowardly, I would have left the first time he hit me.
But I had nowhere to go. I married a muggle who I thought was the one meant for me. I really thought it, thought it enough to let my family turn me out. But after my son was born, my perfect man turned on me. He didn’t want children, I know he didn’t, but it was an accident. He blamed me.
Then he was born, my little boy, and I loved him. I loved him more than anything else in the world. I loved him more than I loved myself, miles and miles more. I was determined he wouldn’t turn out like me. Obsessively erudite, skinny little girl who nobody liked, who all the Gryffindors made fun of. I tried to make him proud of himself, I tried as hard as I could, but with him around, it was impossible.
Like I said, I would have left, but I had nowhere to go. I could have left on my own, but I couldn’t have taken both of us, and I certainly couldn’t have left my poor little boy there. So I took hit after hit, dealt with the shouting, tried as hard as I could to protect my boy. We never had enough, but I did the best I could.
When he was almost eighteen, when he graduated with all his N.E.W.T’s, I ran.
It was the most terrifying, liberating thing I’d ever done.
But I knew it wasn’t as simple as leaving in the night. Oh no, I knew he’d want to find me. But I didn’t want him to. I couldn’t let him find me. I went straight to Hogwarts. Straight to Dumbledore. It was hard, impossibly hard, to finally tell someone everything that had happened to me. He listened. He offered me a job. He said he’d always known how smart I was. He said he couldn’t believe I hadn’t gone on to the Ministry of Magic.
He told me I’d always have a home and work at Hogwarts. He talked to my boy too, offered him a post. He took it quickly, he’d always been so good at it that there was no question.
He told me to change my name, for my own safety.
I did.
IRMA PINCE
I AM PRINCE
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I love books. I’d always been able to find a companion inside one when I didn’t have one in anyone else. I’d found solace with them during the worst eighteen years of my life. The hardest thing about leaving Tobias was leaving my library behind. I’d only been able to take a few, as many as I could carry. Books are my fourth sibling, my third parent, my second child and my first love.
But they could never help me escape this.
Have you ever had a night where something so unexpected happens, where your entire life is uprooted so quickly that it’s hard to believe only last month, last week, yesterday, a few hours ago, things were normal?
The normal ended for me on June 30th, 1997.
I’d just been reading in the library. I hadn’t had a clue what was going on, I hadn’t heard anything.
Not until he came in.
Argus Filch had come hobble-running into my office, dressed rather haphazardly, Mrs. Norris tearing along behind him.
–Eileen! Eileen, you have to come now.â€
Argus Filch has a worse reputation than he should. He doesn’t like children for the same reason I don’t. He’s been constantly tormented by children since he was a child himself, as have I. It makes one remarkably bitter, when it comes down to it. It’s a lot easier to forgive when it’s only some students who made your life a living hell, but when it was all students, when you hadn’t had a single friend in your life, and when the hell never really ended, it’s not an easy thing to do. I know the students dislike me, lots of them probably hate me, except a few Ravenclaws, but they all seem to hate poor Argus. It’s not really fair. He just wants things under control, like I do, he doesn’t like messes, I don’t like things out of place, I don’t see why anyone does. I don’t get why the students insist on putting the books in the wrong places so I have to constantly fix things, they eat in the library and tear pages out of the books, and Argus’s job is infinitely worse, never ending. At least I get to be with things I like. But when it comes down to it, he’s loyal, he’s trustworthy. You treat him right, so will he. Turn on him, and he may never trust you again. But nonetheless, he’s the only person I’ve ever trusted with my secret, my real name, and as far as I know he’s never breathed a word.
He doesn’t scare easily either. He gets annoyed first, then angry. I don’t think I’d ever seen him looking as terrified as he did when he looked at me just then.
I grabbed my wand to protect us both - another source of his bitterness was that he couldn’t do magic - and followed him at a brisk walk down the halls. It became more and more apparent that something was amiss the further we got. But I never expected it to be as bad as it was. When we reached the shattered stones, I walked even faster to be next to Argus.
–I’ll help you clean this up, I swear -†But he cut me off.
–That’s not it. Come.â€
I followed him out the door into the courtyard, and when I noticed the crowd I broke into a run, leaving Argus behind me.
I reached the tightly knit group of students and pushed my way through slightly, getting to the front of the group next to Minerva McGonagall, and noticed tears rolling down her cheeks.
–Wh-†But I stopped mid-syllable, shocked beyond words.
Albus Dumbledore lay spread-eagled on the ground. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
There was no question about it, Albus Dumbledore, the man who had saved me from my husband, likely the reason I was still alive, my employer for nearly twenty years, was dead.
I don’t clearly remember a lot of what I did then. I remember my face feeling prickly and sweaty, my vision tunneling, a ridiculous fear that I was going to black out. I remember falling to my knees, hands over my face, an overwhelming sense of everything crashing down on my head. I remember an arm around my shoulder, lifting me up, leading me away. I remember my legs shaking - my everything shaking, feeling like my legs were jelly as I tried to walk. I remember being shocked, devastated even, but somehow not shedding a tear.
It wasn’t until we were inside the castle that I looked to see who it was. Argus? I mean, I knew he was my friend, even a good friend, but all the same ... his touch felt - right somehow. I didn’t really look where we were walking, I didn’t really care, but I was a little surprised when I found myself in the hospital wing.
He brought over Poppy Pomfrey, who looked at me carefully. –Did she fight?†She asked Filch. He frowned.
–No,†he answered, –but she’s been a bit shocked. I don’t know if you’ve heard -â€
–Yes, yes, I know.†Poppy snapped. She shook her head suddenly and looked remorseful. –I’m sorry, it’s just - never mind.†She took my wrist, checking my pulse, and must have felt the lingering sweat from my panic before. –Oh, poor you, you certainly have.â€
A self-preservation instinct flashed into the front of my mind, but I determinedly ignored it. How many people had I snapped at because whenever they weakened me in any way I lashed out? I bit my tongue.
–That must have been quite a shock for you, I couldn’t believe it when I heard.†Poppy said sympathetically. All I could do was nod noncommittally, but that was all she needed. –I mean, I would never have believed it of him, Albus always said how much he trusted him - God, I trusted him - but apparently he was wrong. Even still, though, I’d had some of my doubts, especially at the beginning, but I never would have thought Severus Snape to be a murderer …â€
The remainder of Poppy’s speech trailed off into a faint buzzing. I was immediately overtaken by the same feeling I had felt near Albus’s body, but increased tenfold.
–Oh, dear me, what’s the matter?†Poppy said when she noticed my complexion. I could barely see, I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t think I could stand up. She didn’t seem to have a clue what had triggered my reaction, or at least, why it was so severe, but about three shades of colour had drained from my face, I could feel it. Argus, however, knew right away. He turned to Poppy.
–I’ll take her back, get her some tea.â€
Poppy seemed slightly astonished by Argus’s sudden change of character. She had probably assumed that he had brought me here on someone’s orders, so to hear him offering to do anything for anyone must have been a little shocking. I know it had been for me the first time I really met him.
–Alright,†Poppy said, recovering herself quickly. –She might need a little more than that, it looks like she’s had a panic attack - or two. Make sure she takes this.†She handed him a bottle containing a smooth, golden potion.
Argus nodded and helped me back to my feet, and I walked on autopilot back to the library. Being among the books brought a little bit more calm back to me, I was able to think a bit. My boy, my boy killed Albus Dumbledore? Something he had once said came back to me. Something he’d said to me last year, when I’d overheard some students talking. He’d told me he wasn’t a Death Eater - that he hadn’t been for 16 years. Had he lied to me as well as Dumbledore? He must have, it was the only explanation I could think of. Lied to me … Oh God, this wasn’t helping me at all - I tried to think about something else, anything else…
It took Argus a good twenty minutes to sit me down and coax some strong tea into me. Once I’d drank a good amount of it, along with a few sips of the golden potion - which turned out to be quite warm and taste like cinnamon - Argus started trying to talk to me.
–So.†He sat on a chair opposite me. –Severus. That must be awful -â€
–He didn’t do it. He can’t have done.â€
–Oh, God, Eileen, I’m sorry, but he did.â€
–Who says so?â€
–Potter.†Argus spat.
–He must be lying. There’s no other option.â€
Argus took one of my hands in his. –There is.â€
–But he can’t have done. He really can’t.†I couldn’t process it, it just could not be true ...
–Why?â€
–Because he told me - last year - he wasn’t a Death Eater. He said he hadn’t been one for sixteen years. I can tell when my son is lying. He was telling the truth.â€
–What else could he be?â€
–Maybe - maybe Dumbledore told him to kill him, because of his hand? Maybe he’s some kind of double agent!â€
–Eileen …â€
–I know, it’s stupid, but I really don’t think he would have done it - and what other option is there?â€
–If there was one thing he could do to prove he was on You-Know-Who’s side, Eileen, it was that. I’m sorry.â€
–I know.†My eyes prickled with tears. I didn’t like the feeling, I didn’t like it at all, and I didn’t want Argus here if I broke down.
–Do you want me t-â€
–I want you to go. Thank you for - for everything.â€
He nodded and left the room.
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The next time I saw him was the day of Albus Dumbledore’s funeral, in a black suit and tie, with his arm ready when I needed it most. I didn’t know if, between losing Albus and to all intents and purposes losing my son, I could have gotten through that day otherwise.
I spent the whole funeral in a kind of daze, not wanting to see or hear or think or feel. It was more than Albus or Severus that made me feel so lost, so sick, so confused. It was the knowledge that this was just the beginning. This year had been filled with fear and doubt, but worse would come after the loss of our one great protector. It hung over me, thick and black like the veil I wore, swirling before me like the warm fog of an oncoming storm in mid-summer, and I could feel somehow that I was not alone. Nothing was real to me, not even the man beside me. I was just drowned in thoughts and a soft, lingering fear.
Just the beginning. Worse is yet to come.
We all know it.
Another war is on the way.
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Back in my office in the library, both Argus and I sat in silence. The sun setting in the west, giving way to a navy sky sprinkled with stars.
Unreasonably beautiful, given the circumstances.
I yearned not to think, not to feel, to drain my body of all emotion. I wished I could be cold. But I couldn’t stop thinking.
Sitting in that chair, I realised all that Argus Filch had done for me. He had been my lifeline twice in the past few days. If I owed him anything, it was this.
–Thank you. For being with me today.â€
–Never mind, it helped me too. It’s strange to think he’s dead.â€
–I know. He seemed - immortal. I guess nobody is.â€
–It proves none of us are safe. Nobody. If Dumbledore can be defeated, any of us can.â€
I nodded, not wanting to reply in case my voice broke.
–It made me think - that if there’s anything you want to do, anything you want to say - that you should just say it, because who knows how much time you have left. Do you know what I mean?â€
–Of course. Now or never.â€
Argus’s face turned a bit red, and I could see his breathing get a little faster and more shallow. I could never have predicted in a million years what was coming.
–I love you.â€
I love you?! I had no idea how anyone could ever want me, bookish, stringy, grumpy old me. And the first thing I remember feeling when he leaned towards me was terror. Sheer terror. I could barely breathe, I was just overwhelmed with flashbacks of that whole, messy 18 years with him, the constant fear I felt, the worry that that was all this would dissolve into, and now with no Dumbledore to whisk me up out of harm’s way, no Severus for me to live for …
I burst into tears.
Tears. Argus looked absolutely dumbfounded, just staring at me without the faintest idea of what to do.
–Wha - what’s wrong?â€
–Nothing,†I quickly dismissed.
–Erm, no, it’s definitely something.â€
–I’m s-sorry - I’m s-so sorry - it’s just, after T-tobias I just c-can’t let myself - I can’t -†I trailed off. Argus’s confusion immediately faded.
–Oh, because he - oh.â€
There was a minute or so of silence, Argus trying to make sense of this latest development, me trying to collect myself. I didn’t like crying, especially not in front of anyone. It just wasn’t something I did.
His voice breaking the silence made me jump. –What if I promised to make you my world. If I promised I’d do everything I could for you, and was your love, friend and protector for our whole lives. I’ve never cared about anything or anyone more than I care about you, and that’s the truth. I want to be with you the day I die. Please.†He stopped, pushing his hair out of his face and looking me square in the eyes. –Give me a chance.â€
He leaned in and kissed me. Not long and passionate or anything, but careful and a little nervous. The first kiss I’d gotten in a long time.
Chills ran down my body. Something in the kiss - and how little it resembled Tobias’s - made me want to trust him, and the look in his eyes proved I should.
–Stay with me,†I whispered. He pulled me closer to him and nodded.
I fell asleep in his arms.