A/N: None of the Harry Potter characters belong to me, and neither do the songs in the Broadway Musical Wicked.

Chapter 17: Argus Filtch, Caretakers Always Die With A Broom.

One fine sunny non-school day the Trio went down to the Quidditch pitch to give Harry and Ron some practice. Hermione just sat on the sidelines, watching them do flips in the air.

Up in the air, Harry has scored two goals on Ron already. Ron was diving and trying his hardest, but he got fed up at last and landed with a rough thump on the ground.

Harry: Taking a breather, huh Ron?

Ron looked up at Harry, still in the sky.

Ron: Yeah, something to that extent. Then I'll come back up there and make a fool of myself some more shall I?

Hermione was looking at the ground and suddenly spotted Mrs. Norris, with her unblinking eyes.

Hermione: Harry! Filtch is coming! Get down from there.

Harry: Filtch can't make me do anything. He's a Squib remember? He has as much magic in him as a thimble. Ah, here he is now!

Filtch came barging onto the pitch and started to yell at anyone and everyone.

Filtch: Potter! You get down from there this instant! Granger! Stop reading! You're advancing the grade point average! Do you think anyone can be considered at least knowledgeable with you puking your smarts everywhere? And you! Weasley! Stop looking like a deer caught in the blinking headlights all the time! You reek of stupidity, at least your troublesome brothers have enough brains between them to pull of prank after prank!

Harry leaned forward on his broom, addressing Filtch.

Harry: Filtch, you need a woman. Bad. But since you seem to have a very sad and disturbing and most of all pathetic infatuation with your cat, I suspect no woman ever looks at you. You also need a bath, we have those in the castle, you know. I can smell you from up here and there's no wind at all. If you had a little fun once in a while, I bet you wouldn't be such a tight ass bitch all the time.

Filtch glared up at Harry and then softened.

Filtch: I suppose.

Harry: Well I hope this helps. It's not exactly the pleasurable company of a woman, but you can ride her until you're sore.

Harry then landed on the ground and handed Filtch his broom.

Harry: Just fly and let the troubles and the issues melt away.

Filtch got on the broom and kicked off, and once he was a hundred feet up, he looked down at the ground and gave his best "smile", then he suddenly broke into song.


And nobody in all of Oz

No Wizard that there is or was

Is ever gonna bring me down!

The Trio:

I hope you're happy!


Bring me down!

At the last note of "Down" Filtch shook the broom out in front of him. Suddenly remembering that he needed the broom to be under him, not in front of him, he let go in shock and slammed into the middle of the pitch. Mrs. Norris came over to his body, sniffed it, and proceeded to take a piss on it.

Harry: Well, I don't know about a wizard, but something brought him down.

Ron: Yeah?

Hermione: Yeah...gravity.

And with that they left the Quidditch pitch and the urine soaked corpse of Argus Filtch.

That's it! Read and Review! The Trio Cannot be killed!