Filthy
Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Filthy
Pairings/Characters: Filch/Ginny, ref to Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sadism
Summary: Argus Filch would so like to inflict punishment on the ungrateful students of Hogwarts, but there is one in particular whose chastisement he would relish so much more.
A/N: I asked mrpersonality22 for a really random pairing, Filch/Ginny was one of the two. Hence... 'Filthy'
Scowling as he watched a hundred rain-washed students tracked mud into the Great Hall, Argus Filch reminisced once again of the days when he was allowed more reinforcing forms of punishment.
What I’d give to hang that Finnegan up by his thumbs.
How I’d like to have Bletchley chained up by his ankles.
He muttered to himself as he set about to clean the formerly spotless, now filthy floors of the castle. A group of first years giggled as they walked past him into the Great Hall, and he gave them a menacing sneer, silencing them at once and causing them to quicken their paces towards their destination.
That’s right, you little louts, run off from filthy ol’ Filch. Don’t wait around to see what he’ll do to you.
He cackled inwardly as he thought of new forms of cruel and unusual chastisement, knowing he might never get an opportunity to put them to use, but enjoying his sadistic imagination all the same. It always helped pass the hours he spent slaving away in the halls of the castle, cursing his lack of magical talent as the ungrateful pupils put their own abilities to much less worthy uses.
Unworthy, unappreciative brats, they are. Every single one of them.
Finally, Filch wiped the sweat from his brow as he looked satisfactorily at the once-again gleaming Entrance Hall floor. He moved to put his cleaning tools away, before finding that his contentment would be short-lived, as the scarlet and gold robed group of students burst through the doors, broomsticks in tow as they laughed heartily - not paying any mind to the brown tracks of mud they left behind.
Filch opened his mouth to bark them all into submission, with threats of detention and reminders of what he’d very much like to have done with them - but was interrupted by a young girl with red hair, who looked equally annoyed.
“Look at the state of you lot!” she said, her eyes flicking up to the high ceiling. “Filch will have our heads, and I’m not about to waste away in detention when I have better things to do!”
With a delicate wave of her wand, the floor was wiped perfectly clean again, and the students carried on their way, not leaving another mark.
“And what better things have you to do?” the tall freckled boy asked, as they travelled into the Great Hall to join the rest of the noisy students.
“Why don’t you ask Harry?” the young girl said with a smirk, and Filch watched as the Potter boy flushed - though he looked quite pleased with himself as the vivacious red-head laid a kiss on his lips.
“I’ll have no more of that from the two of you!” reprimanded the tall freckled boy, glaring at the pair of them.
But Filch did not hear, he was staring after young Miss Weasley, he hand locked in the hand of the messy-haired Harry Potter. He had not realised they had become an item, and his stomach churned as he watched them, his face growing hot as he turned back to gather his cleaning supplies.
Yes - young Miss Weasley, how often he had let his eyes follow her as she ran through the corridors, leaving nothing but an intoxicating flowery scent in her wake. Young Miss Weasley, so powerful a witch, so beautiful a face.
And unlike this particular incident, in which she had clearly shown thought for the rules for only selfish reasons, young Miss Weasley was not different from her school mates. She, too had a disregard for the rules - but in her instance, it did not bother him. It pleased and enticed him. Gave him a reason to smile his twisted grin in the darkened shadows where he stood, watching her. For, as his imagination had wandered to the numerous forms of torture he could utilise against the students, she had entered his mind, also. How he would like to have her chained, to hang her from his office ceiling, to strap her to his office desk.
Yes, young Miss Weasley is a rulebreaker, and punishing her would be a highly pleasing experience.
But Filch new it was not likely that he would ever know the pleasure, for it seemed he would never again get the chance to inflict his more effective forms of retribution upon the hooligans of Hogwarts. So, in young Miss Weasley’s case, he would settle for his fantasies.
He glared after the young man who had won her affections, thinking with burning jealousy of what she would grant him to do for her, wishing that he could experience those allowances for himself.
He drifted upstairs to his next task, his mind now filled with thoughts of grasping young Miss Weasley’s long red hair, and tasting her skin of countless freckles - and how he’d like to leave his own marks on her. He thought of how it might sound to hear her moan, or scream - just to hear her sweet voice resounding through the darkness of some dusty dungeon where nobody would witness his doings.
Perhaps, one day, Filch would be free to conduct his business and pleasure as he liked, perhaps one day he would work under the presence of a less omniscient headmaster - or headmistress as Minerva was concerned. Yes, how much easier it would be if Dumbledore were gone, to get his hands on young Miss Weasley. Of course, he would still have to operate away from Potter’s knowledge, which given the boy’s heroics might be difficult - but then again, the way that fool was living his life, he could not possibly remain at Hogwarts much longer.
Yes, perhaps the fantasy might be easier to come by than it seems.
Filch snickered slightly as he realised where his thoughts had gotten him, before shaking out of his daydream to find Potter and young Miss Weasley walking past him, hand in hand, looking at the old caretaker as though he’d lost his mind. Filch only gave them a filthy, slightly manic grin.
If only they knew what filthy ol' Filch was thinking - they might pay more mind to the rules.
Title: Filthy
Pairings/Characters: Filch/Ginny, ref to Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sadism
Summary: Argus Filch would so like to inflict punishment on the ungrateful students of Hogwarts, but there is one in particular whose chastisement he would relish so much more.
A/N: I asked mrpersonality22 for a really random pairing, Filch/Ginny was one of the two. Hence... 'Filthy'
Scowling as he watched a hundred rain-washed students tracked mud into the Great Hall, Argus Filch reminisced once again of the days when he was allowed more reinforcing forms of punishment.
What I’d give to hang that Finnegan up by his thumbs.
How I’d like to have Bletchley chained up by his ankles.
He muttered to himself as he set about to clean the formerly spotless, now filthy floors of the castle. A group of first years giggled as they walked past him into the Great Hall, and he gave them a menacing sneer, silencing them at once and causing them to quicken their paces towards their destination.
That’s right, you little louts, run off from filthy ol’ Filch. Don’t wait around to see what he’ll do to you.
He cackled inwardly as he thought of new forms of cruel and unusual chastisement, knowing he might never get an opportunity to put them to use, but enjoying his sadistic imagination all the same. It always helped pass the hours he spent slaving away in the halls of the castle, cursing his lack of magical talent as the ungrateful pupils put their own abilities to much less worthy uses.
Unworthy, unappreciative brats, they are. Every single one of them.
Finally, Filch wiped the sweat from his brow as he looked satisfactorily at the once-again gleaming Entrance Hall floor. He moved to put his cleaning tools away, before finding that his contentment would be short-lived, as the scarlet and gold robed group of students burst through the doors, broomsticks in tow as they laughed heartily - not paying any mind to the brown tracks of mud they left behind.
Filch opened his mouth to bark them all into submission, with threats of detention and reminders of what he’d very much like to have done with them - but was interrupted by a young girl with red hair, who looked equally annoyed.
“Look at the state of you lot!” she said, her eyes flicking up to the high ceiling. “Filch will have our heads, and I’m not about to waste away in detention when I have better things to do!”
With a delicate wave of her wand, the floor was wiped perfectly clean again, and the students carried on their way, not leaving another mark.
“And what better things have you to do?” the tall freckled boy asked, as they travelled into the Great Hall to join the rest of the noisy students.
“Why don’t you ask Harry?” the young girl said with a smirk, and Filch watched as the Potter boy flushed - though he looked quite pleased with himself as the vivacious red-head laid a kiss on his lips.
“I’ll have no more of that from the two of you!” reprimanded the tall freckled boy, glaring at the pair of them.
But Filch did not hear, he was staring after young Miss Weasley, he hand locked in the hand of the messy-haired Harry Potter. He had not realised they had become an item, and his stomach churned as he watched them, his face growing hot as he turned back to gather his cleaning supplies.
Yes - young Miss Weasley, how often he had let his eyes follow her as she ran through the corridors, leaving nothing but an intoxicating flowery scent in her wake. Young Miss Weasley, so powerful a witch, so beautiful a face.
And unlike this particular incident, in which she had clearly shown thought for the rules for only selfish reasons, young Miss Weasley was not different from her school mates. She, too had a disregard for the rules - but in her instance, it did not bother him. It pleased and enticed him. Gave him a reason to smile his twisted grin in the darkened shadows where he stood, watching her. For, as his imagination had wandered to the numerous forms of torture he could utilise against the students, she had entered his mind, also. How he would like to have her chained, to hang her from his office ceiling, to strap her to his office desk.
Yes, young Miss Weasley is a rulebreaker, and punishing her would be a highly pleasing experience.
But Filch new it was not likely that he would ever know the pleasure, for it seemed he would never again get the chance to inflict his more effective forms of retribution upon the hooligans of Hogwarts. So, in young Miss Weasley’s case, he would settle for his fantasies.
He glared after the young man who had won her affections, thinking with burning jealousy of what she would grant him to do for her, wishing that he could experience those allowances for himself.
He drifted upstairs to his next task, his mind now filled with thoughts of grasping young Miss Weasley’s long red hair, and tasting her skin of countless freckles - and how he’d like to leave his own marks on her. He thought of how it might sound to hear her moan, or scream - just to hear her sweet voice resounding through the darkness of some dusty dungeon where nobody would witness his doings.
Perhaps, one day, Filch would be free to conduct his business and pleasure as he liked, perhaps one day he would work under the presence of a less omniscient headmaster - or headmistress as Minerva was concerned. Yes, how much easier it would be if Dumbledore were gone, to get his hands on young Miss Weasley. Of course, he would still have to operate away from Potter’s knowledge, which given the boy’s heroics might be difficult - but then again, the way that fool was living his life, he could not possibly remain at Hogwarts much longer.
Yes, perhaps the fantasy might be easier to come by than it seems.
Filch snickered slightly as he realised where his thoughts had gotten him, before shaking out of his daydream to find Potter and young Miss Weasley walking past him, hand in hand, looking at the old caretaker as though he’d lost his mind. Filch only gave them a filthy, slightly manic grin.
If only they knew what filthy ol' Filch was thinking - they might pay more mind to the rules.