Errand Temptation Solo

The bucket slammed down onto the wooden table, with so much force that it caused droplets of soapy water to splash out at spray onto Isaiah's face. Beside the table, a mop was placed with more care, and leaned against the table on an acute table. Wiping the droplets from his face with his sleeve, Isaiah looked up at Professor Aspen.
The professor was a tall man, the same height as the basketball players Isaiah watched at home, and incredibly thin, with long, gangling limbs. In fact, his build was remarkably similar to the aspen tree, a coincidence which Isaiah found curious. Professor Aspen also had quite long, thick hair, styled in a way seen only in the 80's, and skin the colour of strawberries. He wasn't the best in social situations, and awkward in conversations.

"You will mop," the professor said, in a nasally voice continuously disrupted by sniffs, "this whole corridor, starting sniff from here, the girl's sniff bathroom, and ending at that classroom, the one with a sniff red door. Is this clear?"
Despite his faults, Professor Aspen was one of Isaiah's favourite teachers. In the classes Aspen took, the man would, instead of droning on about who-knows-what, set up some sort of activity for the class to do, normally fast-paced and fun, which Isaiah enormously enjoyed. So, in respect to the man, Isaiah tried to be friendly when with him, but right now, with the task of mopping the corridor, Isaiah couldn't even manage a yes. He nodded slowly, dreading the task ahead.

After nodding back in approval, Professor Aspen left, walking, with little coordination, out of site. After the teacher was out of site, Isaiah looked at the mop and bucket and lazily wished that he'd decided to go home instead of stay at Hogwarts for the summer holidays. Alas, it was too late, and there was nothing much he could do about it.
Luckily, Isaiah was quite skilled with the mop. His parents were always busy with their jobs, and household chores were left to the four Lewis children, so it was not the first time Isaiah had handled a mop. He dearly wished that he knew a spell that would quicken the job, but none came to his mind, so it looked as if a long hour of mopping was ahead of him.
Isaiah placed the bucket on the table, careful to make sure he wasn't splashed again, and, grabbing the mop, an old, fading thing, he dipped it in the soapy water for a couple of seconds. Then, lifting the soaking mop out, he placed it on the floor, and began to sweep along the floor.

Isaiah soon found a rhythm with his strokes, going up and down the width of the corridor five times before re-soaking the mop. Now and then, he would pause to pick up the bucket and move it closer to him, for easier accessibility. His arm muscles soon began to ache from the continuous movement, but after a while, they seemed to loose themselves in the repetitive movement, and the ache soon faded away, much to Isaiah's relief. He managed to get half of the corridor done before he allowed himself a rest, resting the mop against the wall and sitting on top a nearby table.

As something to do while he rested, Isaiah peered into nearby rooms, and looked around. The first one was a Transfiguration classroom, with diverse objects displayed on tables, and long paragraphs of theory written on a chalkboard. The second was boring, with nothing but wooden desks, a clear chalkboard, and sunlight that streamed in from windows on the wall. But the third room wasn't at all boring, and far more interesting than either of the others.

It was a teacher's classroom, with no name anywhere to tell who it belonged to, and a large desk, of an unnaturally light wood, at the back, right in front of a large, circular window at the back. The left and right walls were filled with different things, ranging from old, leather-bound books with their titles slowly fading, glass squares with a strange, liquid substance inside, and a strange bunch of fluffy, grey creatures, that were locked in a large cage. Isaiah stared, taking in the classroom with hungry eyes. It was unlike any office he had even seen, and Isaiah wondered what professor it belonged to.
Slipping down from his table, Isaiah walked up to the door, and peered in through a small window, to have a better look. And, right beside the professor's desk, he found something even more exciting. A large, cardboard box, labeled 'Forbidden Items, Extracted'. Curious indeed. He guessed that 'Extracted' meant taken away from the students, which made the box much more appealing to Isaiah, who desperately wanted to see its contents, imagining something exciting and dangerous.

His hand went to the door, and twisted it slightly. It turned with ease, definitely not locked, and when Isaiah opened it more, nothing happened at all, meaning that some sort of alarm spell hadn't been cast over the room. He pushed it open more, until the doorway was wide enough for Isaiah to easily walk through, but, just as he was about to, something stopped him.
As tempting as the box was, there was also a voice in the back of Isaiah's mind telling him to stop. The summer holidays had just begun, and he knew that if he got into trouble now, the next couple of days would not be fun at all, if he was stuck in detention, or had to do some more errands. So, Isaiah shut the door firmly, and turned back to his mop, which he picked up dutifully, and began to mop.

Like before, Isaiah was soon lost in the rhythm of the continuous mopping, and it only seemed a couple more minutes before the Gryffindor had finished his errand. He wrapped the job up by quickly mopping into the end corners, which were always a struggle to do, and afterwards, lifted up the bucket, which now held brown water, with unknown substances floating on top, and swung the mop over his shoulder. Glad that the errand was finally done, he headed towards Professor Aspen's office, to drop off the equipment, with a happy heart.

Word Count: 1050