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Chapter Five

If I'm being completely honest with myself, I didn't even know what laundry duty was until Slughorn led me and Potter into some sort of horrifying back room with various strange shelves and buckets. Aren't house elves supposed to do this? I'm not even sure I know what this is. It involves scrubbing wet towels in buckets, and it looks very taxing.

"Are you going to help me or just uselessly stand there?"

"I don't see why I should help you. It's your fault I'm here anyway." Potter rolls his eyes while continuing to do... whatever it is that he's doing.

"I bet you don't even know how to do laundry."

"Of course I know how. I'm not a dullard like you."

"Hmm." Potter's eyes flick over to me, and a small smile flicks across his lips. I find it difficult to look away from him. "Prove it."

"I'm not that easy to trick into helping, but good try." I glare at him as he rolls his eyes.

"Well, if you're not going to help, at least say something. You've been standing there silently for an hour. It's unsettling."

"Unsettling?"

"You glaring at me silently? Yes."

"Hm." I glance around the room for a minute before my eyes settle back on him. There isn't anything else interesting to look at. I suppose I have been glaring at him silently this entire time. Potter continues working silently for a while. It's actually sort of interesting. I mean... it's wet and gross and I'd rather die than touch any of it, and it looks rather boring to do, but it's sort of interesting just to watch him do it. Serves him right for attacking me like a bloody lunatic. My face still hurts.

"You know—" Potter cuts himself off. The corner of my mouth twitches up again. Why does it keep doing that? I'm bound to look like I'm having a bloody stroke.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I thought you wanted to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you. I just want you to stop creepily standing there like some sort of stalky dementor."

"Where else am I supposed to stand? There's... buckets everywhere." I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Potter sighs.

"You wouldn't have to stand anywhere if you'd help me."

"Oh, we're back on that again." I pick absently at my nails. Potter lines clothes onto some sort of rack thing before turning toward me. He takes a quick step forward, and for a moment I wonder if he's about to walk straight into me. I flinch away from him in response. He rolls his eyes as he reaches past me to grab more clothes.

"Dramatic much?"

"You surprised me."

"Sure." Potter dumps an arm load of laundry into a bucket full of water before scrubbing a towel against some sort of strange board-like thing. After a strangely long amount of time he drops it into a different bucket then moves back to the first one. It's strangely monotonous.

"How long do you think this will take?"

"A while. Slightly less if you'd help." For a strangely horrifying moment, I actually consider helping him. Just for a second before I regain my sanity.

"Don't they have magic for this?" Potter shrugs.

"Probably."

"Couldn't we just... leviosa the clothes through the buckets or something?"

"That sounds like a very effective cleaning strategy. Thank you so much," Potter answers flatly without looking up.

"You're the one who asked for my help."