Peppermint; Draco Malfoy [2]

THIRTEEN

ALEXIS' P.O.V.

We have to clean the entire hall... by hand.

Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to put Filch in charge of our punishment, and he's making us clean everything up with mops and rags, no magic.

I cross my arms and protest. "What? We could do this with magic in ten seconds! We're wizards for goodness sake!"

"Not for the next few hours you're not," he grins, a dirty smile on his face. "Now I want this spick and span before lunchtime - if it's not done when I get back, you'll be doing much more than cleaning this hall."

He hobbles away, Mrs Norris following him with her tail high in the air.

Stupid cat. She should have stayed petrified.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh deeply.

I grab a cloth and start brushing bits of food onto the floor to later sweep them up and then move onto the mopping. Thank goodness my mum taught me the basics of cleaning.

Malfoy is here too but I don't care to look at him. I shall be ignoring him until further notice.

I can hear him sighing behind me but I don't turn around. Right now, the main thing is getting this place clean.

Malfoy sighs again loudly and I hunch my shoulders. It's getting annoying.

I don't even take another step before he does it again, even heavier this time.

"Oh my god, what is your problem?" I snap, turning around. He hasn't even moved from his initial spot, the cleaning products untouched.

"Nothing," he snaps back. He picks up the mop and fights to put it in the bucket, sloshing water over the sides messily.

Please don't tell me he doesn't know how to clean.

I watch him struggle to mop the floor as he drags the stick back and forth, the soapy water going everywhere but cleaning nothing, making it very clear that he doesn't know anything about cleaning.

Jesus Christ – kill me now.

I storm over to him and snatch the mop out of his hands. "What the hell are you doing?"

He raises his eyebrows in annoyance. "Cleaning? What does it look like?"

"It looks like you've never done this in your life."

"I've never had a need to," he grumbles. "That's what elves are for."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever, just grab that cloth there and wipe the table," I order.

"I don't need you to tell me what to do," he barks.

I close my eyes and turn on my heel, taking the mop with me. Looks like I'll be taking over this bit.

Draco suddenly groans. "Ugh, it's wet!"

"Yeah – it's supposed to be. You can't clean with a dry cloth."

He mutters something but carries on, and so do I. I'm no more than four steps away when he starts talking yet again.

"How did you do it?"

I don't reply.

"How did you do the spell?... Answer me!"

I turn around and stop mopping. "What?"

His eyes roll, exasperated because I'm not getting it. "The spell that started this mess. How did you cast it without speaking?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I dunno. It just happened. I flicked my wand at your drink and it did what I wanted - does it matter?" I ask.