Chapter Text
4pm, July 30, 1991, Hogwarts.
Filius Flitwick was the only person at Hogwarts, save for the Headmaster, a very happy situation, as it allowed him to walk from corridor to corridor, room to room, and refresh the various blocking and protective charms only he could lay.
He did so under a Disillusionment and Concealment Charm so powerful only a few portraits and Higher Beings could see through it – all to keep his activities hidden from the Headmaster.
Filius Flitwick had been Head of Ravenclaw House since 1902, and at Hogwarts for 40 years before that. Filius was also a goblin and a wizard. Dumbledore could not pretend to Filius that it was ‘customary’ for the Headmaster to hold all the wards as he did with the others. Nor he could he ask a goblin to sign an unvetted magical contract without sparking a war with the Goblin Nation.
These bits of freedom were not enough to entirely stop Albus remaking Hogwarts in his own image, or using the school to gather information he then used to play his political games, but it was enough. Filius Flitwick stood discreetly in the breach, as much as he could.
As Filius turned down a corridor, he saw Hagrid, making for the Headmaster’s office.
Although Hagrid was bound, by Filius himself, not to enter the castle save for meals unless summoned, he was often summoned by the Headmaster during holidays or when the students were otherwise busy. Even Albus admitted that was safer, as Hagrid could very well bring in the kind of magical creature that waited only for opportunity to slip out of his pockets and go after one of the students.
So there was nothing odd about Hagrid answering a summons on a day like today, when even Minerva was still enjoying her summer holiday in the Highlands.
But, something insistent nudged at Filius’ magic.
Heeding it, Filius deepened his Concealment Charms, and followed Hagrid, walking silently in his wake as Hagrid stepped on to the moving staircase that led up to Albus’ office.
Fawkes, of course, would be able to see Filius. As would all the portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses. If any of them told Albus, it would be disastrous.
Still, something deep inside Filius told him that whatever conversation Dumbledore was about to have with Hagrid was one that Hogwarts herself wanted Filius to overhear.
And he was right. Buoyed by the piercing look he got from Fawkes, and the subtle but significant nod he got from the portraits who were awake, Filius listened to the orders Albus gave Hagrid in growing concern. He formed his own plans, then when Hagrid left, he went with him, as silently as before.
When Filius got back to his office, he saw a short note had been left on his desk, along with a thin phoenix feather. The note said only, “Will you help?”
So. It had been the Guardians of Hogwarts who sent Filius that nudge in his magic.
He burned the note and said, “I will help,” out loud, and the phoenix feather disappeared with a flash – acknowledging a promise made.
Filius would have helped any student he could – that was his oath.
But for the son of Lily Evans? Oh, he was frankly grateful to have the opportunity. Head full of plans and possibilities, Filius called for his personal House Elf, and began to instruct her on what he would need.