Flynn hated the ghost that haunted the girls' bathroom. If he had a sickel for every time that girl flooded the bathroom and he had to clean up the wet corridor outside, he would be a millionaire and wouldn't need to still be working at this cruddy school.

With his mop at hand, the man moved it back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. With each movement, his back ached and his keys jingled. "... stupid girl ... not paid enough to clean up after her ... going to take hours to mop up ..." Where were those house-elves? Or one of the kids? He wanted one of them to come by and take care of this mess for him so he could take a nap.