By Wednesday of his first week at work, Harry had already mastered all the secret passageways inside the castle. Moreover, he could also prepare most of the materials for the professors without asking again. Hence, most of them just ignored him and let Harry do his own thing (especially Snape, who doesn't seem very happy when he can't find even a single flaw in Harry's work to criticize.)

He had been reading the two books Professor McGonagall gave him every evening, or whenever he wasn't sent on errands. When Filch saw the book, he asked alarmingly:

"These! Did you get them from the library? It's forbidden by the school's law, you're the caretaker, and you still break it?"

Harry shook his head, showing Professor McGonagall's signature on the cover of the book for him to see:

"No, sir, Professor McGonagall lent them to me for a little light reading."

Mr. Filch clicked his tongue, then he picked up his cat, Mrs. Norris, then brought her over to the cat food bowl to give her a snack:

"Why would you ever want to read them? We will never be able to use magic." The man said bitterly, "The kids in this school are wasting their natural talent on useless things. Should I be the one who possesses magical powers, I would definitely appreciate magic more than those kids who were given golden treasures and didn't even know it."

Harry stopped reading, then looked up at Filch:

"But if you've already had that ability since birth, you won't know how hard it is without it to appreciate magic."

"Well, I suppose that's true..." Filch said idly, his bulging eye darting somewhere on the marble wall opposite them.

"If you really could do magic, what would you do?" asked Harry, who resumed flipping through the book, then scribbled something down on a parchment.

Filch breathed heavily, and he sat with a thud on his old bed, making it groan under his weight:

"Anything but this job. Studying at Hogwarts, graduating, then working at the Ministry of Magic, I guess..."

He looked at Harry.

"If you have magic, you wouldn't want to be in this position, would you?"

Harry laughed, but he's not sure if that laugh was genuine. He suddenly felt like an imposter:

"Who knows..."

* * *

Although he had only worked on this job for a few days, Harry had already realized that the students love to play pranks on Filch. Harry didn't know why, but he found those pranks extremely malicious, especially since Mr. Filch was a Squib, thus unable to fight back with magic. If he has to compare, then they were like knocking a handicaped person on a wheelchair to the ground, then taking said person's wheelchair and running away. No wonder why the man had been so obsessed with the old punishments to torture students.

On Wednesday afternoon, Mr. Filch stomped his way to the hallway Harry was in charge of checking and cleaning, covered in mud and emitting an unpleasant odor, like an old toilet that had not been scrubbed for years. He bellowed:

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!! I will report their crime to the Headmaster! How dare they toss dung bombs at a Caretaker! This time, they will receive the punishment they deserve!"

Filch shouted at him:

"Potter! You go bring Percy here! And I'll go write down their crimes and report them to Professor McGonagall. If a Perfect can vouch for this, my words will have more gravity."

Harry walked down the corridor, intending to go up to Gryffindor Tower to find this Perfect Percy. Just then, the bell rang, and students rushed out of the classroom. Suddenly, Harry heard Adrian's bickers echoing around the corner. Many students also stopped to see what happened:

"You mustn't speak ill of my brother! He's so smart, he's smarter than anyone in this school!"

Adrian was standing across from a very snobby, blond boy, and he was surrounded by two other boys whose bodies were at least twice the size of a normal first-year.

The boy said disgustingly:

"What's the point of being smart? Squibs are still Squibs in the end. Hey, Adrian! Didn't your parents teach you not to socialize with incompetent kids anymore? Ah, right! They're dead, sorry."

Adrian's face was beet red with anger, his body shaking, and his hands curled into fists.

But, before Harry could intervene, a stern voice spoke from behind him:

"What's going on here? Why are you all standing here like this? Get out of the way, I'm a Perfect."

A guy, who was about fifteen years old, with hair as red as Adrian's friend, paved the crowd. He was surprised to see the two kids who was at the center of that crowd:

"Adrian, Ron, what the hell are you two doing? And what are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Adrian pointed his little finger directly at Draco, shouted:

"He said that Big bro doesn't deserve to be in the castle! Tell Harry to get the hell out of here, and go back to the Muggle world!"

Draco crossed his arms defiantly:

"So? Am I wrong? Useless Squibs have no place here. If my dad was the Headmaster of this school, he would have kicked them out a long time ago!"

Adrian was so angry, and his words blurted out without thinking:

"My brother is the best! He is not useless! He can definitely cast spells and make your dad roll around in the yard!"

Harry raised his hand to rub the bridge of his nose. Adrian's hotheaded habit often makes him lose his logical thinking and ends up speaking nonsense. He will have to teach his brother the art of staying calm in the future. Or maybe Occlumency will help?

Percy said sternly, but instead of criticizing the Draco boy, he turned to Adrian:

"Stop it, Adrian. A wizard needs to know his own limits. You can't let emotions overwhelm reasons, because we are privileged people who can use magic. There's no way you should say stupid things such as a Squib can defeat a wizard with magic."

Then he adjusted his robe, straightened his back a little, his face proud of his magical talent:

"Furthermore, what Draco said makes sense. A person without magic shouldn't be forced to live among people who can use it. That will only make them more and more bitter about their situation."

Adrian looked down at the ground, tears welling up in his eyes. He knew Percy was right. Even though he always wanted his big brother by his side, it was nothing but a selfish whim. Harry, who did not have the same magical talent as Adrian, would always have to suffer. He always smiles and tells Adrian that it's okay, that he's fine. But deep down, Adrian knew, people always talk bad about Harry behind his back. And he always had to endure it, alone.

Ron said loudly:

"Percy! Even if it was true, you shouldn't have said it to Adrian face like that!"

At this point, Harry couldn't stand still anymore. He stepped up into the circle of the crowd that was paying attention to the argument:

"Perfect Percy."

It was only then that Prefect Percy recognized Harry, who was walking towards him, with a cold expression on his face. He stepped back a little, looking embarrassed, but the corner of his mouth was slightly twitched. During his work, Harry also learned a little about the Weasleys. And to be honest, he didn't like Percy one bit, and he had a feeling that Adrian felt the same way. Percy always talked about keeping his family's face, his promotion, even boasting about his outstanding academic results and magical talent. Why he didn't end up in the Slytherin house is beyond him.

"Harry Potter." Percy calmly said, "Well...I hope you are not offended about what I just said. I'm just saying what all of us think about Squibs. Besides, I also think people like you would have a happier Muggle life than here, keep tormenting yourself over the magical abilities that you can't have."

Harry looked up, face to face with Percy, into his smug eyes. Right at that moment, Professor McGonagall rushed to where they were. The professor strode ahead, her green pointed hat bobbing up and down, while Filch jogged beside her and said briskly:

"Well, I have already said he's too inexperienced, Professor, and yet Dumbledore doesn't believe me. I just sent the kid to find Prefect Percy to punish the twins, and yet he ended up making a ruckus like this."

The professor dismissed Filch's words:

"Enough, Mr. Filch. What are all of you doing, standing here? The classes have started." She said sternly towards the students.

Harry didn't pay any attention to the approaching professor. He stood still, facing Percy like an equal, and said bluntly:

"Percy Weasley, will you have a magical duel with me?"

His statement has left Professor McGonagall and Filch gobsmacked, while his younger brother, Adrian, and his friend, Ron, almost fell on their backs. Percy visibly shaken in anger. He didn't expect his magical abilities to be mocked and challenged like that:

"Don't...don't get cocky, you Squib! A Squib who doesn't know his own place and dreams of defeating a powerful wizard?! It hilarious!"

When Professor McGonagall came to her senses, she also spoke quickly, her voice shaken:

"Mr. Potter! Do you even know what a magical duel is? You don't have magical abilities, you can't compete!!"

Harry retorted nonchalantly:

"Professor, the school's law allows for duels under the supervision of a professor in the school. Am I incorrect?"

"That is true, but..."

"Nor do I see in the 400-page book on school principle any rule that bans a school employee, or Squib from participating in duels for the sake of learning."

(Author: He has already memorized the rule-book. Good job, Harry. :))

"It is true that there is no ban, but..."

Harry interrupted, glancing over at Percy:

"In that case, I wish to ask permission from my opponent and a professor to hold a duel in the spirit of exchanging knowledge..."

"These things don't have to have rules because there isn't a Squib stupid enough to challenge a wizard, Harry!!" Professor McGonagall drowned out his voice. Then she let out an exasperated breath, rubbing her forehead with both hands:

"It's all my fault. I lent you those magical books, and now you think you can match a prefect."

Professor McGonagall spoke to him, in the harshest voice she can come up with. Perhaps she had avoided this talk because she didn't want Harry to be further disappointed in his own fate:

"Listen, Mr...Harry. Like I said, a Squib is not born with magical abilities, no matter how hard he or she tries. I know that because you are so intelligent, you may feel that such magical knowledge is not difficult for you, but just understanding it mentally is not enough. You have to be able to practice those spells as well. Magic is not something that can be nurtured by itself."

"Hold on for a moment, Professor McGonagall."

Headmaster Dumbledore, still with his white beard and hair, wearing a purple robe and half-moon glasses, stepped forward. Next to him were Professor Snape, Professor Sprout and Professor Filtwick.

"I think, if Harry wants to, let him try." The Headmaster spoke slowly, but what he said clearly shocked all the professors who were there.

"But!...Professor Dumbledore, a duel would be very dangerous for a Squib. Even a wizard who is slightly competent in magic can be seriously injured. Squibs can't create shield charms to protect themselves!" Sprout exclaimed, looking at Dumbledore as if he had grown a new head.

Snape crossed his arms, frowning. For the first time, Harry noticed that he wasn't sneering or being cruel to him. Perhaps even if he hated the Potter brothers, he was not the kind of teacher who was willingly letting Harry face danger with his bare hands. Adrian was still too overwhelmed about what had just happened, so he completely missed Snape's expression.

Dumbledore looked down at him, his blue eyes pierced through him, and Harry suddenly had a very uncomfortable feeling that someone was trying to open his mind. Harry didn't know what Dumbledore had done, but his A.I mind was already locked by various layers of protection. In fact, it was originally just to seal the dangerous thing inside it, but who knew there was a nice side effect of making it impossible for other people to enter his mind?

"Harry, why would you suggest a duel?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

Harry closed his eyes:

"I don't want this duel, but to prove that my younger brother is not someone who lets his emotions overwhelm reason, I have no choice."

He looked at the professors standing around him:

"How about this? The professors will all be overseeing the duel between me and Percy. If there is anything dangerous, you will immediately stop the match. Is that all right, Perfect Percy?"

Percy drew his wand, and he gripped the handle tight:

"Fine. I'll show you the obvious difference between a wizard and a weak Squib, and smashing your vain dreams to pieces."