Were they somehow moving onto the same page? It was starting to look that way. He didn’t so much care for the actual cleaning, just that the point had gotten across. The actual detention was more a formality. Actions had consequences. You remove the consequences and students stopped considering the real weight of their actions.

“No.” Not said harshly but as an afterthought in light of the boy’s question. “No, I’ll be needing your wand, Mr. Ashburry-Hawthorne.” The man flicked his own to reveal a set of cleaning equipment. Two buckets, rags, feather dusters, furniture polish and the like.

“Once you’ve handed it over, you may—“

What happened in the next minute absolutely stunned him. Speechless was too mild a description for the reaction the man had to the door being opened—magically clearly as he had locked it—and he just....waltzed in sans any form of polite greeting or acknowledgement before .....

The man’s face reddened with indignation and the boy was set to receive the most painful hex of his life when Scrimgeour came in and saved the day yanked him back out. The nerve of that boy. Fletcher remained speechless for the first few minutes after the door closed again, taking an extra while to realize the Headmaster had now arrived at the detention. It occurred to him then that the man may have been out there with Prichard this whole time. Why else would the boy suddenly think it okay to barge in?

Shaking his mind of the distraction, the man extended his hand. “Your wand, Mr. Ashburry-Hawthorne.”