School: Mahoutokoro

Year: 7

Technique: Clarity in Writing: one scene with multiple characters

Word Count: 984

Draco stared down at the wine soaked carpet with consternation. The carpet, which a few moments ago had been a beautiful cream colour, was now painted in red.

The room's only other two occupants, Theo and Blasie, stood there with gaping mouths, which was quite unhelpful if one would ask Draco.

Never had he given two knuts over a ruined upholstery, knowing how easily it could be mended by the House-elves or replaced. But that was not possible now. Because he wasn't at Malfoy Manor, but at Blaise's mother's new Muggle husband's house.

His parents had never let him associate with Nott or Zabini before. Nott Senior, according to mother, was too crude. And the Zabini matriarch was very sketchy with her disappearing husbands... not to mention her propensity to marry so frequently. Not that Draco had ever cared about these appearances. He had only wanted to befriend, and hang out with Blaise and Theo, instead of Crabbe and Goyle.

So in his eighth year, here he was. When Blaise invited him over to his new Muggle apartment in New York during their Easter break, Draco readily accepted. He'd been eager for a fresh start.

"Well! Now what?" Theo asked, his hands clutching the wine glass that he had spilled the wine from.

"Uh...we clean it?" Blaise asked unhelpfully.

"No shit, but I don't see any House-elves here Blaise."

"I have no clue about the carpet, but the floor could be sweeped easily," Draco commented, eyeing the puddle of wine that had formed rivulets on the pristine white marble.

As he pulled his wand out, Blaise chastised him, "No, remember I said no magic. Mum will kill all of us. She's yet to tell Reginald that she's a witch and she has warned me not to use any spells in his house or around him."

"But this isn't exactly his actual home, is it? Just a vacation house, right?"

"Yes," Blaise grumbled. "But she wants to be extra cautious. There are wards which will alert her if we use magic."

"So now what do we do?" Theo asked.

The three of them must have painted a ridiculous picture, standing stiffly at extreme ends of the carpet, staring down at the wine stain, and completely out of their element.

"Find a mop?" Blaise rubbed his jaw.

Draco couldn't help but sneer.

"Any better ideas, Malfoy?" Blaise asked him snidely.

"No," Draco admitted, resigned.

Mopping the floor was the easy part. Draco managed to observe from a distance, and not get his hands dirty.

Theo sighed as he swiped the floor one last time. "Now the carpet?"

Draco folded his arms and leaned against a wall, interested to see how Blaise and Theo would manage that.

"I think we'll have to rectify that with some water, detergent and good old scrubbing," Blaise commented.

Theo exchanged a glance with Blaise. "Draco, a hand?"

Draco made his way to the centre of the room and helped Blaise lift the coffee table, so that Theo could slide out the carpet from underneath it. They both followed Theo to the bathroom, who dragged along the carpet with him. Once he had dropped it beneath the shower head, he threw an expected glance at Draco.

"The stage is all yours," Theo said.

Draco raised his eyebrows, perplexed. "What?"

Blaise pointed his arm towards the cabinet underneath the sink. "There's some detergent and a brush over there. Get started soon, else the stain won't come out."

"Excuse me? I'm not a bloody house-elf!" Draco exclaimed when he realised what they meant.

"Well, you've got to contribute in some way," Theo retorted.

"Yes, but who dropped the glass?"

"I agree that I dropped the glass, but it was you who left it unattended in the first place!" Theo pointed his finger at Draco, his face red.

Ridiculous, Draco mumbled under his breath as he turned on the shower and grabbed the detergent and brush.

He glared at the drenched carpet lying on the bathroom tiles, and observed the diluted red stream of water make its way towards the drain.

Maybe if I just leave the shower on like this, the stain would go on its own, he thought.

"Draco better get started before my mum comes back and skewers all of us," Blaise said from somewhere behind him.

Draco sighed in resignation and dropped down to his knees. He winced as the cold water instantly soaked his trousers. He then poured some of the detergent over the stained area and gingerly moved the brush across it.

"Harder, Draco." He heard Theo's voice.

"That's what she said." Blaise snickered.

Draco rolled his eyes at the immature bunch.

He put some effort and started scrubbing in earnest. The plush fabric foamed up instantly and Draco felt a bit of relief. He put it back under the stream of water, but was hit with disappointment when he realised that the patch was still pink.

"Maybe try one more time," Blaise said, as he peered over his shoulder.

So he gritted his teeth and scrubbed once again, his shirt sleeves now soaked as well. The end result wasn't much better than before. By then he was frustrated and annoyed, his hands red and raw from the harsh soap. His arm muscles hurt in a way they had never before. He was fit, for Merlin's sake.

Still he scrubbed one last time, determined to return the carpet to it's pristine condition.

Reality was sadly disappointing and he gave up after his third attempt. He collapsed back against his forearms and took deep breaths. Even Blaise and Theo took pity on him and patted him on the shoulder.

"It's okay, Draco. It isn't like before, but hopefully mum won't notice."

Theo nodded his head but then abruptly stopped. "Wait a second. We just washed this carpet, so how in the bloody fuck are we gonna dry it."