Being eaten by a dragon would be a quicker end at least.
He was aware of some cleaning charms, finding that even 5* hotels tended to not be up to his meticulous standards, but this was an entirely different level. He was not a house elf and he had no desire to be one. He'd listened to the instructions on how to clean but they were harder to cast than he'd anticipated and they didn't do much. Cleaning centuries of dirt was apparently harder than one thought.
Today he'd tied his hair back into a bun and he was desperately wishing he was back in the Manor with his bath tub. He was in a happy little daydream about that when somebody spoke and jolted him out of it. "What was that?" he asked, looking back behind him. "I was wishing I was back home in my bath with all the bubble baths I own. Do you think there even is a bath tub anywhere in London?"