It was a night like any other at Hogwarts. Classes were over for the day. The Great Hall was closed for the night. The students were sleeping. Some professors were still up grading assignments, but most were also asleep. And like any other night, or at least like any other night when he felt the need, it was time for Argus Filch to hunt. Not like mad-dog Lupin with claws and teeth. Not like a Death Eater with magic. No. In the old way. The muggle way. The only way Filch could. With a knife. Argus Filch left Mrs. Norris in his room. She could not be present for this. This was for him alone. Argus Filch picked up his lantern and lit it. No shade needed to be drawn; the lantern's glass was thick and filmy, and only enough light for Filch would escape it. He silently made his way out of the castle. Had anyone cared enough to watch Argus Filch on the Marauder's Map, they would see him sneaking out of the castle at night every so often. But fortunately for Argus Filch, no one did. Unfortunately for Hogsmeade. Argus Filch exited the castle and extinguished his lantern, placing it near his exit from Hogwarts, and made his way to Hogsmeade under cover of darkness. He crept silently up to a home on the outskirts and gently tried the front door. Locked. As expected. Some residents were still foolish enough to leave their doors unlocked. But most were not. Argus Filch crept around to the back of the home. He tried the back door. Unlocked. Perfect. Argus Filch gently opened the door as quietly as he could. It opened without a sound. Whoever lived here kept the hinges well oiled. Helpful. Argus Filch took in the interior of the home quickly. There was enough light shining through the windows from the lantern in the street to see. First floor was just an open area. Dining room. Cooking area. No one here. He looked to his left and saw stairs going up to the second floor. Carefully, he made his way up the wooden stairs, gently trying each new step with his foot for signs the wood would creak with his full weight upon it. Once or twice he found such a step, and the near-silent creek it made while he pressed gently on it warned him to step elsewhere. Perhaps for some, this would be difficult. But Argus Filch was practiced. He made his way effortlessly up the stairs. And Argus Filch heard snoring. He glided silently towards the sound. The bedroom door was open. He quietly slid inside, his sharp eyes again being wholly satisfied by the street lamp lighting the window. One one person in this home. Pity. He preferred more. But it would do. Argus Filch gently removed his crooked knife from it's sheath under his coat. While it was an ugly knife no one would look twice at, its blade was sharp. Much like Filch himself. Filch crept up to the sleeping man, taking in what of his features he could see. Male. 40s. Argus Filch raised the knife. And faster than anyone would believe of the old and shuffling Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch slammed the knife into the man's neck, covering his mouth with his other hand to muffle any chance of sounds. The man's eyes shot open wide as he struggled briefly. So briefly. Then it was over. Argus Filch wrenched his knife from the man's neck and wiped the blood clean with the former wizard's bed sheet. Replacing the knife in its sheath, Argus Filch quietly exited the home and silently made his way back to Hogwarts. They used to make fun of Argus Filch. "Filthy Squib" they called him. Born into a magical family with no magic of his own. He had been mocked and ridiculed almost his entire life. But some nights were different. Some nights, Argus Filch had his revenge. As he approached the castle entrance, Argus Filch took up his lantern from where he had stashed it and lit it. He checked his clothes for any blood. None. That was good. Filch made his way back through the castle to his quarters. He saw no one. And no one saw him. Upon entering his room, he gave Mrs. Norris a scratch behind the ears, cooed at her gently, and got ready for bed. Tomorrow, it would be back to normal classes. Back to trying to keep the castle clean as spoiled magical students gave him filthy looks and rude comments. But Argus Filch knew something they didn't. He was a killer. A killer of wizards and witches. They could laugh at him. But one night per month, someone would pay. #Malfoid #HarryPotter #ArgusFilch