Annabelle Potter Younger sister of James Potter shared lots of traits with her brother like her love for Quidditch and Pranks. But she hated being compared to her brother all the time. She was in ways better than James. She was Calmer and Politer th...
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Sirius and I entered Slughorn's office grinning, but our smiles dropped when we saw who else was inside. Regulus Black and Basilio Zabani were already there, facing Slughorn.
"Ah, Miss Potter, Mister Black, come in," Slughorn said. "You'll be serving detention with Mister Black and Mister Zabani." Just when I thought that this wouldn't suck! Both Black and Zabani both turned around, looking about as thrilled to be there as we were. Sirius groaned audibly, and I rolled my eyes at the unfortunate turn of events. Slughorn's voice broke the very uncomfortable silence," Miss Potter, Mister Black, you two will clean the trophy room without magic. Please leave your words with Mr. Flinch, and he will lead you to the room."
Sirius and I nodded our heads and started to walk towards Flinch, but Slughorn's voice made us stop, "Not you, Mr. Black, the younger one."My heart sank at the thought of being trapped in a room for two hours with that dickhead. Sirius stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with a sad smile.
Black walked towards the exit with a goan, and I followed suit. Flinch led the way, stoking Mrs. Norris, when we both walked in tense silence. This detention is already off to a terrible start. As soon as we entered, Filch snatched our wands and slammed the door shut, locking us inside the musty room filled with trophies in dire need of polishing. Cleaning Muggle style has always calmed my nerves, but I don't think that going to happen this time.
I picked up a rag and got to work, trying my best to ignore Black, and he is doing the same. We both had chosen the farthest opposite ends of the room to start cleaning to avoid each other at all costs. Silence took over; the only sounds were our breathing and the squeaking of cloth against metal.
Unconsciously, I started humming a song Varun had taught me a few days ago. That somehow irritated Black; the next thing I knew, his voice rang in the empty trophy room, "Will you fucking stop that!" His voice wasn't loud; it was barely audible, but it sent chills up my spine. I just ignored him and continued polishing while humming the soft melody.
I bit my tongue, trying not to rise to Black's provocation. But the tense silence hanging over us was unbearable. My thoughts were running wild, and my hand hit a trophy beside me, and it fell on the floor with a ringing sound, "Careful!" Black says, and I look up to catch his eyes. My breath caught in my throat under the intensity of his gaze. I noticed we were closer now, moving toward the middle of the room. We were only some steps away now, I guess our plan to start at the opposite ends was not really thought through.
He bends down to pick up the trophy that had rolled to the back. He carefully places the trophy back, and his eyes flutter to the trophy I was cleaning. "You missed a spot," he said scathingly, pointing to a trophy in my hand that I had just scrubbed spotless. I clenched my fist around the rag, willing myself to stay calm and not give him the satisfaction of getting under my skin. I tried to keep my cool but Black was adamant in making me lose it.
I finish another trophy and place it back on the rack. "You sure you cleaned this?" he sneered, his eyes narrowing as if scrutinizing a microscopic stain. I let out an exaggerated sigh as my patience ran low. I turn to look at him; he is already looking at me with a smug-aggressive expression. "Yes." I try to sound as exhausted as I was of him. "It's no wonder your work is never up to par. Sloppy, just like everything else about you. Associating with mudbloods defiantly tarnished your blood as well." He said. I clenched my fist around the rag.
