Draco swept his trembling fingers across his face and said coldly, "I advise you to shut up. You've heard about how I banished Peeves, haven't you? Now it listens to me, understand?"
The last three words were emphasized, and Filch's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, his face instantly turning from ashen to deathly pale.
Who doesn't know that Peeves is the most troublesome troublemaker at Hogwarts, even driving himself crazy with his antics? How could this Malfoy kid possibly control him?
If you really anger the other party and they bother you Peeves day, you can forget about having a peaceful life from now on.
Filch's apple bobbed, his grip on his cane tightened and loosened, all traces of his earlier arrogance vanished, yet he still stubbornly continued to utter threats:
"You! You dare threaten faculty and staff! I've made a note of this, and I'll definitely have Professor McGonagall teach you a lesson!"
He tried to sound tough, but his feet unconsciously took a half-step back.
He dared not glare at Hermione again, but instead stared fiercely at Draco.
Draco snorted coldly, stopped arguing with him, and released Hermione's wrist.
Throughout the entire process, Hermione stood frozen beside Draco, her wrist burning as if it were on fire from where it was being gripped.
She stared at Draco's back as he stood in front of her, his blond hair contrasting sharply with his cold, hard profile, and even the way he spoke to Filch was protective of him.
Suddenly, the tips of her ears turned bright red again, and her heart pounded in her chest like a drum.
Draco completely ignored Filch's ashen face and turned to Hermione, the coldness in his eyes instantly vanishing.
A roguish smile crept across his lips as he leaned close to Hermione's ear and asked with a cheeky grin:
"Sir, can't we use magic to clean? I can't really be expected to use Muggle rag to wipe the floor, can I?"
His breath brushed against her reddened earlobes as he spoke, causing Hermione to shrink back sharply and hurriedly take a small step back.
She glared at Draco, her cheeks still flushed, but she forced a serious look, biting her lip and scoffing:
" Professor McGonagall never said magic was allowed, Mr. Filch is watching right here. Do you want double the punishment?"
Despite saying that, her eyes were full of indulgence, and her tone was soft, showing no intention of really criticizing Draco.
Filch, standing nearby, jumped up and down, leaning on his cane and yelling, "Of course not! Malfoy, you dare try using a spell!"
Draco didn't even lift his eyelids, giving Filch a cursory glance before speaking in a thoroughly cold and hard tone:
"Shut up, Filch. I'm being lenient by not asking you to help with the cleaning."
These words left Filch speechless, his face turning a deep purplish-red.
He slammed his cane down hard on the stone floor with a dull thud, but he dared not utter another sound.
Peeves ' words are still stuck in my head. If things really get really bad, and that kid actually lets Peeves get involved with me, I can forget about having a peaceful day at Hogwarts from now on.
He could only stare at Draco with red eyes, letting out a few suppressed groans.
Filch didn't dare to say anything, so Draco didn't press the matter further.
When Draco turned to Hermione, his brow relaxed again, and he said boastfully, "How was that? Pretty impressive, right?"
Hermione's ears turned red from Draco's close breath, and she hurriedly turned her head away, but couldn't help but smile.
But she still forced a stern face and glared at Draco, saying:
"That's more like domineering! Who talks to faculty and staff like that? Be careful Filch actually reports you, Professor McGonagall won't let you off the hook."
Hermione's words were full of reproach, and her eyes were brimming with laughter as she spoke.
She took two steps inside, glanced back at Filch who was still standing there sulking, and tugged at Draco's sleeve in a low voice, saying:
"Hurry up and go clean up. Don't provoke him anymore, or you'll be in trouble if the fine doubles."
As he spoke, he stepped through the door, but deliberately slowed his pace, waiting for Draco to catch up.
Stepping into the Trophy Room, Draco rolled up his sleeves, and instead of touching his wand, grabbed a Muggle and a bucket from the corner.
While keeping an eye on Draco, Hermione pulled out her Transfiguration textbook to read.
Draco wiped the shop windows, swept the floor tiles, and cleared the ashes from the Draco with swift and decisive movements, without uttering a single spell.
Hermione stood to the side, her eyes glued to the screen, completely forgetting about her book.
Filch stood in the doorway, frowning and staring for a long time, his lips pursed but he couldn't find a single fault.
Both of them stared in disbelief.
A moment later, Hermione couldn't help but walk over, looking at the gleaming corners of Draco's shop window, and asked in surprise, "Do you clean your house often?"
Draco didn't stop what he was doing. He turned his head and smiled at her, draped the rag over the windowsill, and said:
"That's right. You've practiced your skills for so long, just waiting to put them to use. So after you marry me, you won't have to do all the housework by yourself."
As soon as she finished speaking, Hermione nearly dropped the book she was holding, and her cheeks flushed bright red.
She reached out and gently shoved the irresponsible Draco, scolding, "Who wants to marry you?!"
He was fierce in words, but his feet didn't move.
Filch, standing at the door, frowned and coughed heavily twice, but only dared to poke the ground with his cane, not daring to say anything more.
After all, there's no way to find any fault in slacking off right now.
Draco chuckled, picked up the rag again, and said, "You're just saying that. Anyway, you've got the skills; you'll need them sooner or later."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat at those words. She reached out and gently shoved Draco again, the force soft, and muttered, "Who asked you to fawn over me! Malfoy, can't you be serious for once!"
She should have been annoyed, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up slightly.
My mind is a mess, yet also sweet—it's a strange feeling.
After cleaning, Draco draped the rag over the rim of the bucket, dusted off his hands, glanced sideways at Filch standing in the doorway, and asked:
"Is the check complete? Are there any problems?"
Filch froze on the spot, haphazardly wiping away non-existent sweat from his brow.
My gaze swept over the gleaming floor, the spotless shop windows, and even the corner of the fireplace was free of ashes.
Even though he was seething with anger and choked by Peeves's affair, he didn't dare utter a single word of protest, only glaring defiantly at Draco.
Seeing that he was speechless, Draco beckoned to him and said, "Since there's no problem, you, tidy up these cleaning supplies, understand?"
The deliberately stiff tone he spoke made Hermione behind him tremble slightly; she bit her lip hard to keep from laughing out loud.
After saying Draco didn't look at Filch anymore, who was furious but dared not speak out, his face turning a deep shade of purplish-red.
He turned and nodded to Hermione, "Let's go, Professor McGonagall is waiting for us for tutoring."
Hermione immediately followed Draco's footsteps, her eyes lowered as she walked quickly beside him.
Only after turning the corner in the corridor and completely losing sight of Filch did Hermione chuckle softly, "You were doing that on purpose, weren't you? Even mimicking that tone."
Filch, standing still, looked at the cleaning supplies scattered all over the ground, his hand gripping his cane cracking, his throat filled with suppressed anger with nowhere to vent it, and could only kick the bucket at his feet in frustration.
Who would have thought that Hogwarts' most feared warden would be defeated by a mere boy? It truly is a case of one thing being the nemesis of another.