"Detention tonight with Slughorn," Malfoy told her.

"But I thought he wasn't going to punish us," Narcissa complained, sitting huffily beside the fireplace.

Malfoy shrugged. "Apparently he wasn't until he saw the new classroom."

Narcissa scowled. "What time?"

"Eight-thirty," Malfoy replied casually. "So," he continued, "how'd you sleep?"

Narcissa flushed, knowing he was thinking that she had stayed up half the night thinking about the kiss; correctly, she hated to admit. "Perfectly," she replied icily.

"Good," he said, smirking. "I'd hate to think of you with bags under your eyes." He cast her face a signifigant look.

A small mirror was in her hand in a second. "Where?" she exclaimed, looking at her flawless complextion. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him. "I hate you."

"Oh, I know," Malfoy said, rolling his shoulder lazily and sitting next to her.

She sprang up. "I have to go."

"Where?" he asked. "Classes are over for today, thank goodness."

"I need to study," she lied calmly. "I plan on getting an O on the Charms test on Friday. Are you?"

He scoffed and closed his eyes as she left the room, but when she returned to prepare for dinner, she found Malfoy with his nose buried deep in their Charms text.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Narcissa knocked once on the new stone door to get Slughorn's attention. When he opened it, she peered into the dusty room.

"You're late," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "It's exactly eight-thirty. I don't know what..." She paused. "The detention was at eight, wasn't it," she said heavily.

Slughorn nodded, confused. "Didn't Mister Malfoy tell you?"

Narcissa paused. "Yes. I just forgot." She looked around at all the dirt lining the room. "Haven't gotten it cleaned up yet?"

"Actually, I though that could be your detention. Hop to it," the professor said. "Join Mister Malfoy and scrub the floor." Malfoy snorted from where he knelt, already cleaning.

Narcissa felt quite ill. "Wash the floors?" she repeated. "On my knees?"

"Yes," Slughorn said, blinking. "Have you never washed a floor before?"

Narcissa gave him a disgusted look. "That's a house-elf's job," she sneered.

"Now it's your job," Slughorn said, handing her a disgustingly stained brush. "Get to work."

Narcissa took the brush with tips of her fingernails and moved over to where Malfoy was working, looking annoying dashing in a ponytail and rolled-up sleeves. Tentatively, Narcissa moved the brush across the floor, using her fingernails as a guide.

"Dip it in the water," Malfoy told her, hiding a smirk.

Narcissa scowled and whispered fiercely, "I knew that!" The water was horrid and slimy and splashed on her whole hand. She paled and felt her stomach object. "Professor!" she said, standing up, "This isn't fair. I didn't make him cast that spell."

"You were one half of the accident," Slughorn pointed out. "Now, clean the rest of the floor or join me for detention again tomorrow."

Narcissa knelt back down and cast a spell to stop her robes from getting wet. "Fine," she muttered, lackadaisically washing the floor. However, her efforts caused no changes in the floor as she worked. Malfoy was the very picture of hard work, studiously cleaning each stone.

When the bell struck ten, Malfoy had almost finished the floor—Narcissa had finished six stones. "I think you've done enough," Slughorn said finally. "Now, I hope you know this was nothing personal. I just needed to put a show up. No hard feelings?" he asked.

Malfoy gave a smirk. "I suppose my father doesn't have to hear about this. It was quite short."

"Oh good," Slughorn said, relieved. "Tell him I said hello."

The pair exited silently… at least until they got into the hall. "Ew!" Narcissa exclaimed, rubbing her hands off on her robes. "That was vile."

Malfoy chuckled as they headed towards their dormitory. "You should have seen your face. I thought you were going to be sick."

Narcissa's stomach churned in the mere memory of the water. "Well," she said, trying to think up a comeback, "you just worked like a little slave. Do you wash the floors at home or something, Malfoy?"

Malfoy shook his head. "This is my fifth floor-washing punishment," he explained, not annoyed at all by her comment. "You know," he said casually, "it's a tradition in some houses for the woman to do the cleaning. I'd like to see that. Maybe—"

Narcissa glared at him. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I don't know. Coming home to see my little wife slaving away over each speck of dirt sounds fun," Malfoy drawled.

"Oh shut up," Narcissa said as they reached the portrait. It swung open, staring warily at Narcissa. "You too," she told it.

"Mum's the word," the portrait whispered.

Narcissa stalked into the room and snarled, "I'm taking a shower now. Goodnight."

"Have fun," he replied, sitting down across from the fire. She huffed and hurried up the stairs.

Sorry it was so short; I just wanted to get something up.