"You three, get back to your dorms quickly before Mrs. Norris catches you again,"
Wes urged Harry, Ron, and Hermione to return.
"Thank you, Professor,"
Hermione said hurriedly, then grabbed her two companions and dashed off.
Harry and Ron mumbled their thanks as well, their expressions flustered as they hurried after Hermione.
The trio jogged all the way toward the Gryffindor common room.
"Youth really is wonderful,"
Wes murmured as he watched them disappear around the corner.
He couldn't help but recall his own student days—he'd been a famously good student, practically living in the library. Breaking school rules had been out of the question; he'd barely even had any close friends.
Still, Wes had no regrets about the path he'd taken. He knew from early on that his pursuit of magic—and a longer life—would be a solitary one. He had chosen to walk that road alone.
Maybe someday, he'd meet others walking the same path—people with whom he could share discoveries and insights.
---
Lately, the students had begun to notice something odd: Filch seemed to be targeting Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Wherever the trio went, Filch was close behind, like a shadow that wouldn't go away.
Even during class, he'd stand outside the classroom door, refusing to leave.
His grim silhouette loomed over the trio constantly, making it nearly impossible for them to concentrate on their studies.
Thankfully, the three hadn't broken any school rules recently.
That frustrated Filch, but he had patience. He was certain that sooner or later, he'd catch them doing something wrong.
Hermione, however, couldn't take the constant surveillance anymore. She felt like she was suffocating.
Eventually, she went to Professor McGonagall and unloaded her frustration.
When McGonagall learned what had been going on, she sternly reprimanded Filch for his behavior. Though Filch was bitter about it, he didn't dare disobey her and reluctantly left the trio alone—for the moment.
Still, when he passed by them in the corridor, he muttered under his breath:
"Don't get too smug. There are still five years to go. I can keep this game up as long as I need."
His voice was so sinister and cold that Ron went pale.
Hermione was so furious she stormed toward Filch, ready to argue, but Harry quickly grabbed her arm to stop her.
"How can he get away with this? Someone like him should be expelled!"
Even the usually well-behaved Hermione had been pushed to the edge. She couldn't tolerate Filch's unreasonable behavior anymore—he was seriously affecting the students' lives and studies.
"Maybe we could ask Professor Elwin,"
Harry suggested. "Mrs. Norris seems to like him. He might know something."
"Good idea,"
Hermione and Ron both nodded in agreement.
The trio hurried up to the seventh floor and stopped outside Professor Wes Elwin's office.
Hermione knocked gently. The crisp knock echoed down the corridor.
Knock… knock knock…
"Come in," came Wes's voice from inside.
The three entered one after another.
Inside, they saw Wes holding a quill, carefully writing something in a notebook.
Harry's eyes were drawn to the notebook, and suddenly, his scar started to throb. The pain shot through his whole body like a bolt of electricity, and he couldn't help but cry out.
"Ah!"
Harry clutched his forehead, pain etched into his face.
"Harry?!" Ron and Hermione were startled. They quickly helped Harry stay upright, keeping him from collapsing.
[Can Horcruxes affect each other? Or is it just that Harry is... special?]
Wes immediately shut the notebook and locked it back in the box. Strangely enough, Harry's pain vanished.
"I'm fine," Harry reassured the two, though his voice was weak. "Maybe it's just the stress from being stalked by Filch all the time."
Ron believed him easily. He had a nightmare last night about being chased by Filch and barely slept at all. His head had been buzzing all day.
Hermione, however, didn't buy it. She felt there had to be more to it.
She grabbed Harry's arm, determined to take him to the school nurse, but Harry repeatedly insisted he was fine.
With no choice, Hermione asked Professor Elwin to check on him.
Wes gave Harry a quick once-over and said, "Nothing serious. Probably just some intermittent headaches caused by lack of sleep."
"It's all Filch's fault. I haven't had a proper night's rest in days—just nightmares every night." Ron was clearly fed up. His resentment toward Filch was at its peak.
"Professor, do you know why Filch is targeting students like this?"
Hermione asked in frustration. "He's making it impossible for me to concentrate on my studies."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances—clearly unable to relate to Hermione's priorities.
"Mr. Filch…" Wes didn't actually dislike Filch that much. He remembered his own school years fondly.
Back then, he was a top student, and Head of House Flitwick had always looked out for him—he had quite a few privileges. Filch had never dared give him trouble.
Wes knew Filch was a Squib. His parents were both wizards, but he never developed magic himself. To grow up in a wizarding family without being able to perform magic… that was a cruel fate.
Many wizarding families saw Squibs as disgraces—some even disowned them outright.
In short, being a Squib in the magical world was extremely difficult. Filch's childhood was nothing short of tragic.
Compared to that, Harry's life with his aunt and uncle wasn't even a tenth as miserable.
It was that childhood that twisted Filch's personality. Even after Dumbledore took him in as Hogwarts' caretaker, that bitterness still lingered.
Wes, however, wouldn't share this with the trio—not because he feared Filch, but because he had no interest in exposing others' private matters.
He only told them that now that McGonagall had warned him, Filch would behave for a while.
If he continued targeting them, their parents could file complaints—Dumbledore would step in.
The trio didn't get the answers they were hoping for. They politely said goodbye to Wes. But before leaving, Harry glanced at the drawer where Wes had put the notebook and asked carefully:
"Professor… that notebook just now… is it important?"
"Just a plain old diary. What, you want it?" Wes moved to open the drawer again.
Harry waved his hands quickly. "No, no—that's not what I meant…"
"Just messing with you. Your friends already left—better catch up."
Wes smiled.
"Goodbye, Professor."
Harry closed the office door and jogged off to catch up with Ron and Hermione.
After the three had left, Wes reopened the drawer, took out the diary, and muttered:
"Senior Tom, you're a disappointment. The spells you know might be valuable to ordinary students, but to me, they're useless."
The diary began to tremble and flipped itself open. On the page, a sentence appeared:
"What are you trying to do?"
Wes didn't bother replying. He just stared at the diary, deep in thought.
Snap!
He slammed the diary shut and slipped it into the inner pocket of his robe as he walked out of the office.