She wasn't suprized when she turned and found him in a crisp, tailored suit. He looked like he was on his way to attend a party, not clean a closet. She gave him an appraising look that didn't say if she approved or not and turned back around, trying her spell again, a good three shelves already completed on one wall.
"Yes, doesn't look like you plan on being much help either," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She suddenly wanted to hit him with a cloud of dust and make him sputter and get all dirty. What a prat he was. In her annoyance she flicked her wand a little too forcefully at a pile of old bits of parchment scrolls and the shot off in all directions. Grumbling, she knelt down to pick them up by hand with her back away from him, hoping he couldn't see how mad she was about the whole situation.