Insubordination: For fun and Profit CH 2 (Patreon)

Chapter 2:

Adult talk

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Harry woke up so early in the morning it could almost be considered night. For the fifth time that night. The silencing charms he had cast on his ears only lasted a few hours at a time, and trying to sleep through Hagrid's snoring without them was an exercise in futility.

Deciding there wasn't enough time left until sunrise to get proper sleep, and that by trying to do so he would wake up even more exhausted by doing so, he got up. It took some gentle coaxing to get out from under fang and off the couch, but he was scrawny and flexible enough to achieve it. A quick stretching routine and he exited the hut, silencing the front door before opening it so as not to wake Hagrid with the creaking.

He breathed deeply of the cool morning air. With autumn in full swing, it was the perfect temperature for a morning run, and with quidditch canceled he was sure half of the other players in the school wouldn't bother keeping up their training, and so he set off at a comfortable pace towards the black lake. On the way there who should he nearly collide with but Viktor Krum. clearly the star seeker wasn't going to let his training slip just because of some silly, life-threatening tournament.

The Bulgarian champion nodded at him cordially and Harry responded in kind, coming up beside him in their mutual jog around the lake. Viktor's longer strides were such that he pulled ahead of Harry soon after that and their jogs became solo exercises again, but Harry didn't mind. It wasn't a race.

And so, the early morning blurred as the black sky turned blue and his cold, dry self became hot and slick with sweat. As all athletes should be in the early morning.

Viktor wound up lapping him once, and he spotted Cedric and a few Hufflpuffs doing their morning exercises around the Quidditch pitch. By the time Harry sat down on a bench to cool down Flint and a couple Slytherins were finally out and about to jog themselves. He noted smugly that Draco wasn't among them.

With his body and mind fully awake, Harry sat there and lost himself in thought.

What a night, huh?

He went from being excited to have a peaceful year watching other people be the center of attention and cheering them on, to being despised by three quarters of the school and two entire foreign schools as a cheater and glory hound. Then there was the small matter of being handed a choice between becoming a squib or risking death. The funny thing, he was still conflicted on which he preferred.

Every single person out on the grounds that morning made up the biggest reason why he was considering possible death. Quidditch was definitely worth dying for, and as far as he knew squibs couldn't play quidditch. Or could they? Quidditch through the ages never mentioned a squib playing, but it was meant more for light reading than a detailed information source on all of the history and personal life of every player who ever lived.

Fortunately, somebody that could help him find out was about to job past him.

"Krum!" Harry yelled, standing up and waving his arms to get the man's attention.

Viktor looked to him confusedly but walked to him when Harry motioned for him to come over.

"What I'm about to ask may sound stupid, maybe even insane, but I hope you have the answer to it." Harry qualified before continuing. "Can squibs fly?"

Viktor blinekd at him, looked hup and to the left in thought as he undoubtedly translated the words back into Hungarian, and answered.

"Ov course!" He said. "Is not wizards who fly, is broom."

"Really?!" Harry asked. "Wait, can muggles ride brooms to."

"Yes. Was big problem for statute. All brooms must repel muggles by law." Viktor explained. "You really consider losing magic?"

Harry hesitated to answer, but the confusion and disbelief on Krum's face and in his voice seemed genuine.

"Well yeah? I don't want to die or risk it. I shouldn't be in this tournament. It belongs to you three." Harry explained. "It is right and just that I leave it."

"You not enter yourself." Viktor said.

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. A realization.

Viktor put out his hand.

"It is honor to finally meet you, Harry Potter. I hope you reconsider, I vould like to compete vith you." Viktor said. "You are sportsmanlike."

Harry was so touched by the respect of the gesture and words which accompanied him that all he could do was shake the offered hand with a slack-jawed expression.

With that awkward but heartwarming encounter done, Viktor turned around and continued his jog. Harry, deciding he had more research to do, returned to Hagrid's hut to find it bereft of his favorite Care of Magical Creatures professor and mastiff. This suited him fine, as he only went there to change. With his proper school attire on he marched out the front door, returned a moment later to ditch the school robes, seeing as he no longer attended Hogwarts, and then marched back out.

Being able to fly and play Quidditch were only a small facet of his life, though important. Living life as a squib would entail a lot more and he needed to know every facet before making such a decision.

There was only one person he knew for certain was a squib, and another he thought might be. Deciding to save the curmudgeon Filch for last he made his way up to the castle and to the library.

The castle was still stirring awake as the sun was barely rising, yet the more studious of student body were already barricaded within Madame Pince's domain. She, herself, was behind her counter checking books back in.

Harry approached her tentatively and, in a whisper, got her attention.

"Excuse me? Madame Pince?" He asked.

She put aside the book she was working on and looked up at him patiently.

"I have an odd question. Can you do magic?" He asked.

She gives him a stony, unreadable look.

In lieu of answering his question she raised both hands so he could see they were empty before rolling up her sleeves to shoe they were empty too. She then flicked her left wrist and in it appeared a wand. She then mimed an utterly shocked expression at its sudden appearance, pointed at it with a finger gun, then flicked her wrist again at which point it vanished.

Harry couldn't help it. He burst into a full felly laugh at her silly magic trick.

She then shushed him with a violent glare, which he knew was only half-hearted but he covered his mouth with both hand and fled from her library all the same. He muffled laughter followed him all the way down to the first floor. Time to bother Filch.

He knocked on the door.

"It's five in the morning! Can I finish my coffee before having to deal with you troublemakers!" Came Filch's voice.

The door opened and an angry Argus Filch looked out into the hallway, then looked down to see Harry standing there. The anger on his face vanished to be replaced with boredom.

"Oh. It's you Mister Potter. Albus told me to expect you, but I didn't expect you so soon. I didn't have enough time to properly prepare for this conversation. Come in." He said.

The sudden change to a polite and professional demeaner threw Harry through a loop, but he followed the man into his office all the same. From there Filch walked over to an empty wall and banged on it once with his fist. A large section of it broke inwards and separated into a stone door that he pushed open to reveal his personal quarters.

The juxtaposition of the well decorated quarters, with its deep maroon rugs, curtains, bedding and chairs to his sparse and moldy office was yet curioser than his sudden personality shift. Every inch of the walls was covered in bookcases, that were themselves full. Filch led him to a small round table in the corner where two comfortable chairs sat waiting.

"Sit. Talk." Filch ordered.

Harry obeyed, sitting awkwardly across from the caretaker.

"So." Filch began. "I understand you're considering the squib life?"

"I, um. Yes?" Harry said nervously.

"You seem a bit high strung. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Pumpkin juice?" Filch offered.

"The juice would be nice." Harry said, suddenly feeling hungry and overly eager to flee to the great hall.

Filch snapped his fingers and a goblet of pumpkin juice appeared on the table in front of Harry.

"What? But... You can do magic?!" Harry demanded.

"Course not." Filch said. "But the hundreds of house elves Hogwarts employs and who work directly under me certainly can."

Harry blinked at him. That did make some sense. Caretakers were traditionally put in charge of food and catering in addition to the cleanliness of an estate. But it still didn't add up.

"But I've seen you cleaning with mop and bucket before." Harry pointed out. "Why would you bother doing that if an elf can clean up the mud tracked through the great hall in seconds?"

"Come no, mister Potter. you can't have imagined I keep this entire castle spotless by my lonesome with simple elbow grease." Filch chided. "Let alone manage to somehow, mysteriously, catch wrongdoers with more consistency than all of my magically inclined coworkers and the prefects combined."

Harry had to lean back and think on that. The man did have an uncanny ability to show up when Harry was out at night. And with nearly a thousand other students doing similar extra-curricular activities.

"The portraits and ghosts?" Harry asked.

"Also work directly for me, yes." Filch confirmed. "Save Professor Binns. As such your trysts at night sneaking around under an invisibility cloak have never once gone unnoticed. You are nowhere near as stealthy as you seem to think you are. The elves find you out the moment you exit through the fat lady's portrait. And from there, they alert me and lay their traps."

"Traps?" Harry asked.

He never recalled any traps.

Filch coughed.

"Let's just say the trick staircases and other general unluckiness students can face traveling the castle are not always as random as they appear and leave it at that." He explained.

Oh. Oh! Oh, that was brilliant. When students are out at night, even under the invisibility cloak, the elves just have to snap their fingers and reactivate normally dormant enchantments on stairs, walls and the likes. And the more observant portraits keep a literal ear out for him and pass on that information. Oh yeah, he was having zero difficulty believing filch.

"Of course, if you don't get properly caught you don't get punished. This game of cat and mouse is just as fun for us as it is for you." Filch admitted. "I confess, my job as caretaker her is by far the single best job in the world a squib could ever hope for. And is what I recommend you aim for after my upcoming retirement, should your Quidditch career not work out. Which by the way, yes, quibs can fly on brooms just as well as wizards."

This was a lot more to take in than he expected. And they hadn't even gotten into life for normal squibs.

"But then, why do you bother pretending to do cleaning by hand?" He asked.

"Mister Potter, I have been told by all of your professors that you are a bright young man. I'm sure you can figure that out." Filch said.

Harry thought on it. He'd only ever seen Filch doing manual labor in areas of high foot traffic where the most students possible could see him.

"Wait, is it to bait students?" Harry asked.

"it is indeed." Filch answered. "Part of my duties is to keep witches and wizards humble, especially the purebloods. In fact, their parents often write me personally with requests to do so. Living a life of luxury, even with parents who have the best intentions, often leads to spoiled children. And when said children grow up immersed in magic they can come to look down on non magicals, which is something nobody wants. Students that think they can bully or harass me find themselves unusually unlucky while traversing the castle. Lucius and Narcissa take particular joy in my stories of how young Draco finds himself the object of my ire."

If Filch was trying to sell Harry on becoming his successor, it was working. The idea that Draco's parents found themselves in need of outside help win their brat of a child was also hilarious. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on their correspondence with Filch.

"So you just let them think they can cast jinxes at you with your back turned then prank em harder than Fred and George could dream of doing?" harry clarified.

"Hah! Fred, George, that Marauder posse. It always tickled me to think they considered themselves the premiere pranksters of the school. Never knowing that the title belonged to me." Filch said with pride. "By the way, I understand they passed the map onto you. I hope this year you take the schools security as seriously as you should have last year. Would have led to that rat being captured sooner. I will be asking for it back by the time you leave this school."

Harry swallowed hard at the new revelation that Filch was not only aware of the map but knew how to use it. And furthermore, was allowing it to remain in the hands of students. If he were to guess, probably for sport. That or he trusted the Weasley twins and himself, which was yet another revelation he didn't want to dwell on.

"So, you're not the best squib to be explaining the squib life to me?" Harry asked. "Can you direct me to somebody who better represents the life of an average squib?"

"I have already written to Kwikspell institute and Arabella to offer consultation to you." Filch said. "I doubt either have received the letters yet, but you can expect correspondence from them within the week."

The name Arabella rang a bell, but Harry couldn't quite place it.

"But to summarize what else I can tell you. Muggle high School and college are just as available to squibs like us, but I recommend against following my route in pursuing a psychology degree. Damn subject is useless for employment in the muggle world without at least a master's degree. Go for something in the hard sciences or engineering or medicine as a backup to get good work in the mundane world if the magical world just doesn't work out for you. Mungos hires muggle doctors from magical backgrounds so that might be your best bet if you want to stay in the magical world. Hire some tutors to catch you up on the standard subjects so you can reintegrate next year if you opt to quit magic. Floo, owl and otherwise keep in contact with your friends here and have amazing summer vacations with them to make up for lost time during the school year. Get a house elf if you absolutely can't live without the luxury of magic." Filch listed off one by one in thought. "That's about it, honestly."

Harry nodded and stood up to leave. Filch did the same, offering him another hand to shake which Harry took.

'"Best of luck. You seem to be thinking things through, which I believe your former teachers will be pleased to hear." filch congratulated with a smile, the first Harry had ever seen on the man.

"Er. Thanks." Harry said in genuine gratitude."

He then fled from Filch's office and made a beeline for the great hall. He'd never gotten so hungry from a conversation before. He hadn't ven touched his pumpkin juice.

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READ THIS!

I am rewriting a Much Deadlier Tournament. All of the crack and humor in there? it's coming here. This is going to be a straight comedy all the way through. If you liked or read "A Much Deadlier tournament" then you are going to like this, not least of all because half of the story for the next ten chapters is going to ripped straight from it.

Also, check your DMs people. i message you when you join and when you leave.