The reporter shrieked as a gnarled old hand reached out of the shadows to circle his arm. Turning to look at the face attached, half hidden by stringy hair did nothing to alleviate his concerns. "I know what you're here after," Filch hissed, "I have a bigger story for you."
Torn between curiousity and fear, he let himself be pulled along the hallway while looking for signs of life in the passing halls. "...used to ring with the screams. It's too soft now, kid's 'll never learn. But I keeps them polished and ready I do."
Cautiously peeking into the doorway that Filch held proudly ajar, he felt his face pale as he took in the gleaming silver and leather. The stains lining the wall told of past misdeeds and a whimper escaped. As cat sprang out of the darkness and hissed, he decided he really wasn't paid enough for this and fled.