Chapter 2: Filch Fooled
-“Argus…” whispered a voice in the darkness.
Filch woke up with a start in his damp office, lifting himself from his moldy bed on his elbows. Did somebody just call him by his first name in the middle of the night? Persuading himself that he was again imagining the voice of his late mother, he laid back down. But the silence was broken once more:
-“Argus.. Argus Filch.. Get up you bloody bastard..”
Now that he was sure it wasn’t just in his head, he began looking around, pointlessly because of the total dark, and calling:
-“Who’s there? Who the hell insulted me? Peeves, if it’s you again..” he said angrily, swinging his arms around him in every direction as though to grab the sneaky poltergeist.
-“This is not Peeves, you idiot. This is… Sir.. Squibolas.. De Squibsy-Squibinton! That’s right, that’s who I am,” said the uncertain, but intimidatingly confident voice.
The owner of that voice was standing in the shadow behind the office door, and his twin was hardly holding in his giggle.
-“Sir who?” barked Filch, his eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse of the person behind the unidentified voice that had just called him a bastard and an idiot.
-“Never you mind, my name is not the point of my visit,” said George in a hoarse voice. “I’m here on a rather special mission. Let me just go over some basic points. I was the only wizard in a family of Squibs, and I had been working on perfecting a wand that would restore a Squib’s magical powers.”
-“By Merlin! Go on,” muttered Filch, suddenly rigid and attentive-looking, his eyes wide.
Fred was somewhat impressed with the improvising ability in his brother, and grasping where he was heading with this, spoke in the same voice as him:
-“That’s right! I grew tired of performing everybody’s magical duties so I decided to make a special wand that would grant them their own magical powers. I spent years assembling it. When, at last, I succeeded, and my family started using magic… Well…”
-“I got punished for breaking the laws of magic,” continued George. “Yeah, well, I allowed magic to unrightful owners, and then out of the blue I wake up one day and my body is gone! I didn’t foresee that consequence, I’ll tell you that. But well, I wasn’t going to stay in my home feeling miserable about what happened to me forever! So I thought, I became like that for giving magical powers to unfortunate Squibs, so why not continue doing that?”
-“Right… Well… Even though my body was gone, I was still there, you know? I didn’t just disappear. I didn’t die. I was just body-less,” said Fred in an over-dramatic tone. “So I started tracking Squibs down and returning their magic to them by leaving them one of my special wands. Here’s yours, it’s laid on your desk. I’ve already given Miss Irma Pince hers and she successfully casted a Furnunculus charm on a student who was doodling on one of the library books. She must have been waiting for ages to do that. The poor boy now has boils the size of ping-pong balls all over his cheeks.”
-“Really? Irma has magic now?! Good Heavens! I can’t believe this… Finally my years of being humiliated by these awful little pricks are about to come to an end!” said Filch, with an evil grin that revealed yellow and cracked teeth. “Oho, when I lay my hands on these Weasleys… Let me see… Ah, the wand is there.”
He was now on his bare feet, staring at the long, black stick with a power-hungry, greedy look on his face. He stretched his hand, reaching out with his fingers to grab the wand, too concentrated on it to notice that two ginger boys were peaking in from behind the door, watching him. He closed his grip on the wand, held it with huge pride in triumph in front of him, and…
POOF. A huge cloud of multi-colored smoke filled the office with a loud detonation. Filch tried to disperse it, coughing and cursing, and finally look down.
His fingers were gripping not a wand, but the neck of a rubber chicken.
He looked up.
-“WEASLEY!” he bellowed, throwing away the chicken, jumping with his hands in front of him to chase the two twins who ran off, howling with laughter.
-“Hope you enjoyed your fake wand, Mr. Filch!” threw George to the caretaker behind his shoulder, sprinting into a staircase.
-“Courtesy of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” added Fred, following his brother.
-“I’M GOING TO GET YOU THIS TIME, YOU LITTLE BASTARDS, YOU!” screamed Filch. He was ashamed that he had actually believed what they told him, that for a glorious moment he thought that his days of being an outcast were over.