Chapter 54: Conversation in the Corridor

"Byrne... long time no see."

Filch's voice was somewhat hoarse. He lowered his head slightly, as if not daring to meet Morris's gaze. The tone of his words carried not only astonishment, but also a profound nostalgia intertwined with the emotions of a long-awaited reunion.

Morris was slightly stunned, then a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"Yes, Mr. Filch, long time no see."

The two stood in the darkness, as if everything around them had vanished, leaving only each other's existence.

In the end, it was Filch who broke the silence.

"Byrne... how have you been all these years?"

"Not bad." Morris finally spoke. "I've experienced a lot these years, and learned a lot... And you, Mr. Filch?"

Filch was silent for a moment, as if recalling everything that had happened over the years.

His gaze drifted, carrying a complex mix of emotions, before he finally lowered his voice and said, "I... am alright. Hogwarts is still the same Hogwarts. Every year there are more students, and bigger troubles. You know, I've always been here, looking after the school's affairs. Aside from that, not much else has changed."

Following that, Filch paused, seeming somewhat hesitant, and his gaze fixed on Morris once again.

"Byrne, where have you been all these years?"

Hearing this inescapable question, Morris let out a soft sigh.

"On the day I left Hogwarts, I thought everything would end... but as it turned out, that was merely another beginning."

"I went many places."

"Muggle cities, wizarding enclaves, but everywhere I went, I felt like I didn't belong."

"In the Muggle world, the magic dormant within my body reminded me every moment that I was a wizard out of place among them; yet in the wizarding world, I could always recall the past that I could never forget."

"Ultimately—"

"I went to the Muggle world, just as my parents had hoped I would."

"That was their only request of me before they died, and it is the promise I fulfilled for them."

Hearing this, Filch's body trembled violently.

"I went to a Muggle university, trying to live like an ordinary person."

"Every morning I went to class, listening to professors explain knowledge that seemed to have nothing to do with magic. In the afternoon, I immersed myself in the library, and at night, I returned to my dormitory, lying on a narrow bed, looking through the window at the night sky and wondering why I was there."

"Why indeed?"

Morris answered his own question, his voice slightly hoarse.

"I didn't know, nor was that something I ought to know."

"In the library, I read books with complete disregard for sleep or food. Although I didn't know why I was reading, it seemed that only books could make me forget my troubles."

"During that time, I posed a question to myself."

"Hoping that one day I might find the answer within the books."

Filch lowered his head, appearing to ponder something.

The air grew even more silent, and even the sound of the wind outside the window seemed exceptionally distant.

"Yes, I found the answer I was looking for."

"Although... it was entirely different from what I once believed."

"From that moment on, I knew I could not continue living like that anymore."

Morris slowly raised his head, and even his voice softened somewhat.

"After graduation, I met an old man in Devon. He was a master alchemist."

"I learned many ways of transformation from him, which only served to strengthen my resolve."

"And then, instead of immediately returning to the wizarding world, I chose to wander with nothing, just as my father had done back then, just as you all had experienced."

"I visited major wizarding communities across Europe, examining this world from the perspective of a Muggle, a Squib, a completely different viewpoint—observing this society full of magic like an outsider."

"I went to ancient temples in Asia, experiencing the magical power there; I also traveled to the savannahs of Africa, witnessing the combination of primitive magic and natural forces."

"Until last year, I... returned."

Morris slowly uttered these words. The corridor was utterly silent, with only the sound of Filch's rapid breathing echoing in the air.

"It has... been hard on you all these years."

Others would surely find it hard to believe that the notoriously short-tempered, eccentric, and stern Hogwarts caretaker before them could possibly adopt such an attitude.

In this world, perhaps not many people could truly understand Morris's ordeal, let alone sympathize with it.

Yet Filch was one of those very few.

He could not imagine that the child who used to deliberately provoke him and play pranks that drove him to distraction, the child he had watched grow day by day, had endured such heavy storms and trials over the years.

Morris spoke lightly, using only a few sparse words, but how could those possibly encompass all the setbacks and hardships a person experienced over more than a decade?

He could not imagine the image of a child, having been through all those things, wandering alone through this world.

Yes, a child wanted to go home.

But where was home?

Filch lowered his head, his voice hoarse: "I know, I know."

He remained silent for a moment, his eyes staring listlessly at the floor, as if conversing with himself. "You got that news from me back then. All these years, I've often thought that perhaps I should have done something at the time, or... I could have stopped you from going so far, or... perhaps I shouldn't have told you that news at all."

"If I had chosen to keep my mouth shut, maybe you wouldn't have set foot on that path, or... perhaps you would have chosen a different road." He paused, raising his head, his eyes filled with helplessness and regret. "But I didn't. I lacked the courage to stop you."

"I am old. I have age, but no longer the courage I once had. Those decisions, thinking back on them now, were so foolish."

Filch stopped for a moment, his breathing somewhat rapid.

"I failed to keep my promise, failing the entrustment York and Diana left me before they died, unable to even take care of their child properly."

"I have no magic, so I could only watch my friends die one by one, yet I could do nothing for them."

"I have no qualification to learn magic, so I can only work as a caretaker in this school full of magic, treated as an outcast, where even a group of children can easily mock and toy with me."

"I stand in this corner of the castle, known as the cradle of the magical world, full of hope and miracles, yet I can only face those who possess magic and hope, while I am left in this neglected place to silently bear everything."

With that, Filch tremblingly drew a patched cloth pouch from his pocket, which emitted a crisp jingling sound.

"These are the Galleons I've saved up over the dozen years or so, money I set aside to learn magic at the Kwikspell Correspondence Course. Take them and use them first."

"My boy, I am old and useless."

He tremblingly held out the cloth pouch, locking his gaze firmly onto Morris's eyes, speaking word by word.

"Is there anything this old frame of mine can still do to help you?"