The Pureblood Princess | Sirius Black

|111| Nothing to Fear if You've Got Nothing to Hide

Despite the fact that he thought it was effing stupid, Sirius Black had every intention of cleaning the first floor supply closet. His shiny shoes clattered the whole sulking journey down the winding corridor toward a dead end, with only the tap-dancing gnome (which more closely resembled a potato having a seizure in his personal opinion) to greet him as he approached the last door on the right.

However, as he twisted the rusted silver handle, a sound floated to his ears— not the creaking of the old wooden door, but a sound so faint and muffled, it must have been his mind playing tricks on him again.

Sirius shook his head and took a breath.

He was just being paranoid... He passed room after room of wailing patients down the corridor. For all he knew it was just Doug ordering another healer around. Sirius pushed the door open in one jerky movement then set out to start cleaning.

*

Fifteen minutes.

It only took fifteen minutes cooped up in a stuffy cupboard for Sirius to reach his cleaning limit for the day.

"Stupid Smethwick..." With a flick and a swish, Sirius sent a dingy rag zooming towards an empty vial precariously perched upon a rickety shelf. The vial teetered then—

CRASH!

Sirius slumped further against the door, back of his head thudding against the dark wood. There were crates and crates of random supplies still stacked and shoved haphazardly upon shelves, overflowing into the center of the space through crisscrossed brooms, mops, buckets and now a smattering of shattered glass.

An unexplainable scurrying jostled a few dust bunnies out of hiding, and Sirius, not having the energy to address the broken vial just yet, scratched his head with the end of this wand.

At that very moment there were dozens of patients just down the corridor who needed care... dozens of people just like Doug who deserved to be listened to and tended to... dozens of people that Sirius could have been helping had Smethwick not made it his mission in life to be the worlds biggest prat.

Sirius took a deep breath.

Sooner he got this done, the sooner he could be useful, that's what he kept reminding himself. Problem was, he'd already been cleaning for fifteen (dreadful) minutes and he'd only managed to make more of a mess. Levitating the clutter into place was a hassle and took just as long as tidying by hand... but the only cleaning spell he could think of was scourgify, which did wonders on dirt but was useless in terms of clutter.

Why hadn't he payed more attention to the damn spells James was always using during his obsessive tidying spats? Better yet, why didn't he have a mirror to talk to him like he did for Addy? (He'd have to ask Uncle Alford about that next time he came for dinner.)

Sirius's fingers brushed against the smooth cool metal of the enchanted pocket-watch within his robes. Addy. She knew loads of spells and had books filled with loads more... And she just so happened to have Fridays off.

"Adelaide Rose Fawley."

Sirius knew better than to expect an immediate answer (Adelaide always took forever). He set the open pocket watch on the floor then aimed his wand at a quivering dust bunny cowering just past the rubble of shattered glass. "Bombarda!"

The dust bunny exploded.

It was denser than Sirius had anticipated. Dust and dirt wizzed in every direction, sending him into a fit of sneezes and coughs so violent that he hit his head against the door once more. His ears rang with what he initially thought were the cries of the other dust bunnies mourning their blasted brethren, but after he managed to stop sneezing he realized how ridiculous that would have been.