The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

In the middle of the aisle of Filch's trophy display room, he was hunched over and carefully wiping the glass cabinet door. When he heard Loren's question, his body stiffened slightly and his back bent even lower.

In front of him was a neatly arranged crystal display case, which reflected the candlelight. Inside was a display of honors won by previous students. The shield represented the best player of the Quidditch team, the gold cup represented the annual house cup, and there were also silver cups, badges, and framed photos...

In the dim light, he was wiping a trophy for the Special Contribution Award, which read: "Gespard Singleton, Hufflepuff, 1970-1977."

The prefect student of Hufflepuff that year, he had excellent grades in Potions and Herbology, but was not good at Transfiguration. He obtained seven certificates in the N.E.W.T. exam. After graduation, he invented the automatic stirring crucible, so he was included in the magic history textbook during his lifetime, and was also on the "Wizard of the Month" some time ago.

Administrator Filch looked at the name engraved on the base, and this information flashed through his mind.

He has been in this castle for nearly thirty years, and has wiped these prizes countless times in the past thirty years. He is actually more familiar with the awards represented by these items and the names engraved on the prize bases than some professors.

In the first few years after he came to Hogwarts to take over as an administrator, he couldn't help but fantasize when he was alone. If he also inherited his parents' magic, if he also received an admission letter from Hogwarts at the age of 11, if he had his own wand and studied magic like those students, would Argus Filch's name also appear here?

But he is a real Squib.

Since the last century, the Ministry of Magic has attached great importance to the problem of Squibs and encouraged them to integrate into Muggle society and live an ordinary and happy life. With the help of the Ministry of Magic, he also had a decent job in Muggle society when he was young. He went out to work every morning and returned in the evening. He used his free time on weekends to mow the lawn, clean the room, and occasionally go to the bar for a drink...

Easy and happy, with a considerable income and a bright future.

But such a life was dull and boring. The fireplace could only keep warm, the pen was cold and hard, and everything was in order. It would not suddenly disappear or appear, nor would it become lively words. It would always abide by the so-called scientific laws of Muggles.

Filch could not stand it.

He knew there was such a magnificent and magical world, where the fireplace could lead to a village hundreds of miles away, and the writing tools were soft and warm feather pens and parchment. Anything could float in the sky and be affected by the summoning spell and the vanishing spell. Even a weed could turn into a wild bull and run rampant. But this world shut him out...

As long as he thought of this world shutting him out, his heart seemed to be torn by thousands of cats with sharp claws at the same time, as if he was hung on the ceiling and whipped. The pain of not being able to get what he wanted tortured his soul every moment.

So he wrote to Dumbledore to seek a job and succeed Apollyon Pringle as the school administrator.

It seems that when you come to Hogwarts, you have come to that magical and magnificent world. Occasionally, when you pass by the corridor and pretend to hear the professors' lectures, your twisted soul seems to be comforted.

Almost all the Squibs in the magic world have made similar choices.

Although Squibs are a minority group, their number is not rare. There are dozens of them in the UK. There is Mrs. Figg in the Order of the Phoenix, a rugby player in the Scottish national team, a deliveryman in Diagon Alley, and Old Jim in Hogsmeade Bakery...

"..."

Filch was silent and wiped the trophy by himself. His right hand with protruding joints and skinny flesh clenched the towel and rubbed it hard on the engraving on the base. His fingers looked a little pale because of the force.

Loren stood on the other side and wiped it slowly, not perfunctorily, nor too seriously.

"As a Squib who can't do magic, it must be hard to be an administrator at Hogwarts."

Loren's tone was calm, and he didn't sound concerned or sarcastic. "No student would seriously check the list of prohibited items updated every semester, because with a little disguise, the administrator couldn't check the prohibited items at all. You can't tell whether the things sent from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are perfumes or love potions. When catching students who wander at night, they will be fooled by the Disillusionment Charm and the Invisibility Cloak, and can only seek the help of Mrs. Norris. They openly violate school rules in the corridor, just escape from your sight, and throw a few spells to divert your pursuit. There are many similar things."

He turned his back to Filch and wiped the display cabinet by himself, with a gentle tone: "Mr. Filch, what kind of belief has supported you to stick to this kind of administrator life for thirty years."

"You don't understand, you You won't understand. "Filch whispered softly, his voice hoarse, "You are blessed by luck, you can master that kind of magic after a young age of ignorance, and you will never be able to experience the pain of a squib. Rather than pretending to be a Muggle and sinking in the ordinary world, I would rather struggle in the magic world. "

"Because you have seen such a magnificent world, you can't stand the ordinary..."

Loren did not argue that he understood that feeling. He continued to wipe the display case and asked calmly: "What if you have never touched magic? From birth, you have been in an ordinary family with ordinary parents. You have to clean the room yourself and cook food step by step, not just by waving a wand. "

Mrs. Norris sat on the top of the crystal display case at some point, sitting upright and elegantly, with her tail wrapped around her plum blossom feet, staring at the two with her bright eyes.

"You spent your childhood in ignorance, and the new things you came into contact with were electric lights and telephones. You were amazed to see cars driving on the road. There are scientific principles behind all the magical things. Although mastering this knowledge requires diligence and hard work, and perhaps a smart mind... If you don't have it, it won't affect your rough understanding, but you just can't explore it in depth."

Loren paused for a moment: "Will such a background still make you miserable?"

Filch had stopped wiping and put the trophy back into the crystal display case. The glass door was half open. He stared at the door in a daze, and his reflection was on it.

Please...you...collect_6Ⅰ9Ⅰ书Ⅰ吧 (六\\\\\\九\\\\\\书\\\\\\吧!)

After a long time, Filch shook his head: "I don't know."

"..."

Loren didn't continue to ask, and the whole showroom gradually became quiet.

Filch walked slowly to the next display case, opened the door, took out the prize inside and wiped it. The trophy with a metallic luster was the special contribution award issued by the school. There was no dust or scratches on it. It was shiny and new. It was put in a while ago.

He subconsciously swept his eyes over the name engraved on the base, and was stunned in place. He couldn't help but turn his head to look at Loren.

"Loren Morgan, Gryffindor, 1991-1998"