Belle looked both ways down the corridor before suppressing a smile and reaching to tickle the pear on the bowl of fruit portrait. The entrance to the Kitchens always made her smile because of the way the pear laughed and squirmed. Once the doorknob appeared, Belle twisted it and stepped through the door quickly.

She wasn't sure if it was against the rules for students to come into the kitchens, but she always got excited sneaking in. It felt like she was doing something she wasn't supposed to. Belle never did what she wasn't supposed to, with a few exceptions. But even the most obedient of students had to live a little.

Belle loved how warm it always was in the kitchens. Especially since it was February, and the castle got a little drafty sometimes. Plus, she could always snag an orange or a roll and sit by the fireplace while she watched the House Elves scurry about the room.

Soap. Water. A sponge. These were the only instruments Anthony Hoult had as, on his hands and knees, he scrubbed the kitchen floor. His wand was in the back pocket of his jeans, but he was forbidden from using it and was beginning to wonder what the sodding point was in magic if every time he did something wrong he was told not to make use of it. His lips were spread into a scowl as he cleaned, eyes narrowed into slits as he pondered on the many hexes he could potentially use on Minerva McGonagall if not for the fact that he’d probably end up in Azkaban. But at least the simple thought process made his hard work easier –even if his arms were beginning to feel like lead.

It wasn’t even as if it had been his bloody fault that somebody had made the cataclysmic mistake of leaving test answers laying around and therefore almost revealed the hard work of the Mafia –and much less was it his fault that said somebody had necessarily been hexed until he resembled an insect. It was simple common sense that he’d entrust the punishing to anyone but himself, and even further obvious that he couldn’t tell Alexa for the bimbo would have been out for murder. It had all been an utter mess that had almost landed the Mafia in plain view of the Hogwarts administration, and Tony had learnt one lesson: let Alexa go on a killing spree next time. However, catastrophy had at least been adverted.

But his hands were going to end up rubbed raw.

“This is bollocks,” He growled through clenched teeth, wondering what Klaus would say if he were aware that Tony was being forced to do hard labour. Or, even worse, the amusement on Bran’s face if he was to see Tony now –not that Bran mattered, not anymore, that was history. Of course it was history. But still, the simple horror of his current position on all fours and cleaning. Nadia, of course, would believe it was most deserved –and Father would agree with whatever the woman said. Life sucked, and somebody was going to end up shoved into a broom cupboard and locked in it. Soon.

The sound of the portrait opening made Tony stop for a moment –and damn it had his biceps needed the rest- and look up, blue eyes settling on the slightly familiar girl who’d just walked in. He’d have to hex her silly now, simply for seeing him in this position. “What the hell do you want?” He growled, dragging his damp hands across his thighs and pulling out his wand: he’d been told to clean without it, but McGonagall had not specifically forbidden him from hexing anyone else. At least not in so many words. “Just decided to drop in uninvited?”

Belle let her brown eyes sweep over him a moment, a hint of a frown tugging at her lips. She folded her arms across her chest, a book tucked against her chest as well, "Yes actually. I take it you want me to leave?" She asked quietly, moving over to the wall, stepping around the spots he'd already cleaned on the floor. She wasn't going to leave now that she was here. And she didn't care that he seemed to be angry with her. Anthony Hoult was always angry at someone. Belle looked away from him and sat against the wall, bringing her knees up, putting her book against her knees, and turning her complete attention to the novel in front of her.

At first, it very much seemed like Belle Hatter was smarter than most of Hogwarts and there would be no need to hex her: she immediately understood he wanted her to leave, which meant she’d quite possibly comprehend that word of his scrubbing the floor should not get out to the public. It wasn’t so much a matter of pride with him, but more related to the fact that cleaning the floor with soap and water would most certainly not leave him in a positive light where the mafia was concerned. Alexa would certainly have a fit –the blonde might even make an attempt on McGonagall’s life. Which, as a matter of fact, was a rather pleasant idea. A smirk even almost made its way to his face as his wand hand wavered.

But it all too quickly became clear that Hatter did not indeed bollocks about what he did and did not want; tucking a book to her chest, the other sixth year settled on the ground and opened her book. Tony was half tempted to gape at her, but shock was not the most prominent emotion on his mind as he kicked his bucket of water –and no mind the fact that he’d only created more of a mess to take care of. The Slytherin growled, brandishing his wand in a foolish gesture that had no other significance than to display anger –from the look of it, rage was one of those emotions that made red sparks falter from the tip of his wand, for the air was suddenly full of them for an instant.

“I do want you to leave,” He clarified in case she’d been joking when she said it, although his tone was rather less than peaceful: gruff, short tempered and volatile was a closer description to his pitch. “I rather think you should leave before I hex that book into a flesh eating bloody spider,” He wasn’t quite sure he knew a spell that could do that but threats were normally rather effective and he usually tried those out before going for breaking noses or leaving people bald –mostly because if he didn’t display some type of control he’d had been expelled by now.

The Hufflepuff's attention once more went to him. She didn't look very bothered at all. Not angry, upset, or nervous. If anything, she looked slightly amused. With a soft sigh she shut her book and set it to the side on the floor, then got to her feet. Belle stood and simply watched him a moment with a curious gaze, "I don't see what hexing my book will help. It won't make me leave, it won't calm you down, and it won't clean up your mess. Though I do wonder what a flesh eating bloody fairytale spider would look like." She said, her tone rather gentle, though he probably deserved anger from her. Belle smiled at her own little joke, for the book she'd been reading was a complete collection of fairytales, a very muggle and mundane collection of stories.

Belle strode over to him, shedding her flats and going barefoot. Her feet were dainty and small, as was the rest of her. She, surprisingly, gave him a smile as she knelt and righted the bucket, grabbing a spare sponge and taking it to the floor to scrub, brown eyes intend on what she was doing.

She sighed. Hatter actually had the courage to sigh as she put down her book and stood up. Tony had been irritated up to this moment, but now he was feeling slightly furious after the soft sound pressed past her lips and hexing her was no longer actually a question, it was going to happen. The only matter still in doubt was which spell he was going to use on her, and he had to chose just the right one to teach her a lesson –even if she was actually cleaning for him. One did not just barge in on Tony Hoult, ignore him and then sigh at him and expect to be forgiven just because they did something as simple as scrubbing the floor. No, Hatter was getting hexed no matter what.

Master, Master. There was a tugging at his leg that distracted him from thoughts of hexing, and he looked down to find two house-elves at his ankles. The creatures seemed to be fighting for his attention, and their eyes were actually irritated for once. “What the bloody hell do you two want?” He growled at the two creatures, who jumped into a hurried explanation about something related to pie that he didn’t understand. He turned towards his fellow sixth year and pointed his wand at her again. “Hatter, get over here and translate unless you want me to enlarge your ears to look like theirs.”

She smiled up at him, sitting back on her legs and putting the sponge in the bucket, "Perhaps if you were not so mean to them, they would explain calmly. You would have understood them better." Belle rose to her feet and stepped over to him, drying her hands on her soft jeans and placing a gentle hand on his arm. She pushed it down slowly, "It's rude to point."

Belle smiled at him, nothing mean or malicious behind it. She didn't even look at the house-elves when she spoke, her eyes on Tony's, "They want to know whose pumpkin pie is better, Anthony. And before you object to taste-testing anything, think about it. You're getting two free pies." She gave him a grin, knowing he was angry with her, and trying to make sure she eventually left the kitchen with minimal scarring and an intact book of fairytales.

Belle was a kind person, and since she was, she tried to give unkind people the benefit of the doubt. She was sure that Anthony wasn't the complete ass he appeared to be, so she wasn't going to be intimidated by him.

Tony was quickly coming to the conclusion that Hatter simply had a death wish. There was no other plausible explanation for  the smile on her face when she recommended he should be nice. The Slytherin’s blue eyes hardened, as he wondered just what spell he could use to drench the girl in boiling water. “Shut the bloody hell up and translate,” He growled, his voice now carrying a dangerous edge to it; Hatter was an inch away from getting hexed. It was actually rather shocking that she hadn’t been yet, and Tony felt satisfied that he’d already shown enough self restraint. Especially when she touched his arm. His bloody arm. She actually lowered it with her hand. “Do you just want me to hex your face so bad it turns purple?” He growled. He was slightly aware this girl was surprisingly unusual, but he wasn’t quite in the mood to ponder on her uniqueness –he just wanted to hex her. A lot. In many different ways.

It really didn’t matter anymore, what he elves wanted, and not even two free pies were going to convince him. However, he did have an idea. “Okay, Hatter,” He said, stepping over the upturned bucket. “Here’s the deal: if I try two pies, you let me hex you silly and swear not to report me.” After all, he didn’t feel like another detention right on top of this one.

Belle laughed, "Hoult even if you hexed me without my permission, I wouldn't report you. I don't see the point of another detention where you don't get anything done. You're not the kind of person to be stuck doing something you don't want to do, it's not fair of me to make sure you're stuck again. So ff you're going to hex me, then so be it."

She shrugged, "It won't be the first time, and sadly, it likely won't be the last." Her smile faded away and a rare expression of indifference formed as she folded her arms over her chest. The bullies in the past hadn't all been nearly as difficult as Anthony, but she was determined to deter Hoult from doing anything to her. Belle sighed, arms dropping back to her sides.

"You can hex me, and I won't report you. As long as you try the pies and thank the elves for giving them to you. And you must do so as kindly, as you can manage." She looked away, fighting a smile, and not daring to let him see the beginnings of another one. He was irked enough as it was. "You also have to say thank you. As nicely as possible."