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A Late Employee
Author: Coco Nutt 
Date:   09-18-10 21:26

Coco counts out change as she places it in the customer's hand then shuts the till. "Thank you. Have a great day."

"You too."

Her eyes dart to the clock that hangs over the Nutt's & Bolt's door. Myron is fifteen minutes late. This is the third time in the past five days he's been on the schedule that he's been late. With Abe recovering from another heart attack and Papa Wal laid up after breaking his leg in two places two weeks in a fall, Mitzi and Coco have been running the shoppe with the supposed help of employee Myron. As Mitzi is 72 and spending time looking after Abe, Coco's been shouldering even more of the responsiblity of the shoppe. If Myron doesn't get his arse here soon, she'll take the responsibility of firing him. Maybe she will anyway, even if he walks in right this second. Which he does not.

Coco's normally unflappable, take things in stride personality is only going to last a little long where Myron is concerned. He knows she's got another job and she told him on Saturday she's working a shift there this afternoon. Before that she's got to go see about a class change on her university schedule for the upcoming term. She'd gotten a letter notifying her that one of the professor of one of the courses she's wanting can't teach at the time scheduled so Coco either needs see if the new time and days fits her schedule or if she needs to change to another class section or just not take that particular course this term. Whichever one she does, she has to provide her signature in person according to the letter.

The door opens then slowly shuts. Myron strolls in as though he hasn't a care in the world. Coco supposes that if he's going to be habitually late to an easy clerking job then he probably doesn't. A care in the world that is. At least he's not the curious sort who asks Coco lots of questions. So far he's never once asked what her other job is or why she has it when she's guaranteed work here as the only grandchild of one of the owners. He's never once asked where she'll be going to university, though then again, he might be assuming she's going to the one closest by.

Reaching the counter Myron smiles lazily. "Hi, Coco. Sorry I'm a tad late. Just one of those behind days, you know." Myron pulls out the work sheet and writes his time in, putting down the time he was supposed to have been here. Coco starts to say something but then changes her mind. There have been few times she's ever wished she could use magic on a Muggle and this is one of them. The last time was two weeks ago and for a totally different reason. When Papa Wal fell, Coco's instinct had been to take him to St. Mungo's and get him patched up asap with skele-gro. The only thing was that about twenty people, all Muggles, saw him fall and one of the breaks was one of those weirdly angled, obvious breaks. There was no way she could get away with getting him skele-gro and showing up the next day as if nothing had happened. Coco had dearly wished she could do it anyway and obliviate all twenty witnesses.

The magic Coco wants to use right now would make things very uncomfortable for Myron. Luckily for him, Coco has great self restraint, though she does have to remind herself that she was able to not inflict injury upon odious Harriet Snyder and she could keep herself from doing that, she can damn well not use it on Myron.

What Coco does instead is to smile politely. "I'd best be off straight away if I want to get that university business straightened out before heading to my other job."

Myron, his head already buried in a magazine he'd brought with him, waves at Coco without looking up. She gets halfway to the door then turns. "I nearly forget. I'm free all day tomorrow so there's no need for you to come in unless you just really want."

"Really? Excellent! Some mates invited me to London for the day. I'll ring them and let them know I can make it afterall."

Coco smiles as she departs. Tomorrow, she'll see about hiring someone else and with any luck, by Wednesday Myron Anderson's only concern will be getting down to Job Centre Plus to sign on for JSA*. Maybe after he's been on the dole for a bit, Myron will realize that habitually showing up late for work, especially three times in five days, was not the most brilliant thing he's ever done. Somehow though, Coco doesn't think Myron will ever see it that way.

Reaching home, Coco quickly freshens up and changes to clothes better suited to working with animals at Indigo McFusty's clinic, scoops up Pea off her bed where he'd been watching her get ready, then apparates to St. Emrys. Once she's done there, Pea and she will go to Hogsmeade and then this evening, once back at home, she'll drive to the hospital where Papa Wal is in traction. She'd visited with him early this morning and even though he told her she doesn't need to come again today, she knows he only said that because he doesn't want her to feel obligated to visit again today. Same with Mitzi and Abe. She'd been by there this morning and will go again this evening. After that, it's check in with Fritz and find out how his community service with Frau Hockenheim in Trier went today.

Another busy day but then, Coco supposes, it's better to be busy than be one of those people who sits around all day without much to do except complain about being bored.

*JSA is Jobseeker's Allowance, which is another way to say unemployment benefit.


Extended Lunch Break
Author: Jolyon 
Date:   09-19-10 12:39

An unrelenting storm raged outside the window Jolyon sat next to at The Three Broomsticks. Across from him sat Sarina Saltwood, who had agreed to meet with him for lunch, despite the terrible weather. It had been overcast but not rainy when she'd left the inn she managed in Cornwall, though that may have changed in the meantime. The hour lunch had turned into much longer than that and was threatning to make Jolyon late for his only class of the day.

"I say you should cancel anyway on account of the weather," Sarina remarked with a playful smile.

Jolyon chuckled. "As tempting as that may be, I really shouldn't cancel because of a little rain."

"You call that a little rain?" Sarina jokingly asked, gesturing with one hand at the torrent outside their window. "Besides, your kids will get soaked standing outside learning about whatever it is you'll be teaching them today."

"That's just it. They might get a little wet between leaving the castle and arriving for class, but they'll be perfectly dry the hour and a half they're with me. There's a barn on the grounds now where I keep an office and where I occasionally teach class."

"Times really have changed since I was a student at Hogwarts," Sarina replied wistfully.

"You should come for homecoming and see what else is new since you graduated," Jolyon suggested.

"What's homecoming?" Sarina asked.

Jolyon did his best to explain the event, which supposedly was not uncommon in Muggle American schools. He thought his colleague Aaron Miller had suggested the idea to Dumbledore, but he could be wrong about that. By the time he finished talking about what he remembered from homecoming last year, Sarina seemed intrigued.

She then looked at her watch and said, "You better go before you really are late for class, Professor Kent."

He leaned over the table to plant a kiss on her cheek and then fished in his pocket for some coins to leave on the table. "See you later?"

"I think I can persuaded to see you again," Sarina answered with a smile. "Be careful out there."

"I will."

He put on his raincoat and ducked out into the storm. Most of the time he thought it was a good thing that one couldn't apparate to Hogwarts, but on a day like today it wouldn't be a bad thing!

By the time he got to campus and made it to the barn, he was soaked through, despite the fact that he'd been wearing his raincoat. He was also cold. Luckily, the barn was toasty warm and he knew a drying spell. He shed his coat and hung it on a peg by the door and then set to making him presentable for class.

Today, he would be teaching his sixth year students about the gytrash, a spectral dog-like creature that only came out at night. Perhaps some evening, he would organize a gytrash observation meeting on the grounds, but for now his students would just have to be content looking at slides of the creature in question.

They came in with hair dripping and teeth chattering, but it didn't take more than a flick of wand to have them dry and warm again.


Customer Service
Author: Ronan Eastwick 
Date:   09-19-10 13:54

"So, my job is to answer customer service letters and send off replies using one of the company's owls," explained Donatella Renfield, a petite witch with straight black hair cut just beneath her ears. She led Ronan through a door adjacent to Donatella's cubicle, which led into an owlery of sorts. It wasn't exactly to the scale of the owlery at Hogwarts, but the effect was the same. Beams crisscrossed the ceiling and allowed the owls room to perch. Bones of rodents and other creatures misfortunate to cross the hungry path of the owls littered the floor.

"It's so gross in here," Donatella exclaimed, wrinkling her nose in disgust, "but the owls are cute. My favorite one is that little guy up there. See him?"

Ronan followed Donatella's finger up to where the tinest owl he'd ever seen perched on the edge of a beam.

"Cute," he said.

"We only have a couple of owls that belong to us. The others belong to customers."

"Do you get a lot of post then?" Ronan asked, as Donatella led him back to the cubicle. She shut the door behind her and wiped off her shoes on a mat on the floor.

"Oh, yes. Tons. Usually complaints too, but occasionally we get something pleasant."

Since starting his job as intern at the parchment company, Ronan had rotated spending time with the different staff members and learning what it is they did. He spent the first week in the warehouse, learning how parchment was manufactured and packaged. He spent the second week with Solange, learning the ins and outs of being a receptionist. His third week was spent with Rocco, learning all about management. Now he was learning how to be a customer service representative.

"What kinds of complaints does the company get?"

"Oh, usually it's about the product, but sometimes it's about one of the salespeople or something totally off the wall. People are so weird sometimes."

She gestured for him to sit down so that she could show him some of the letters she'd only just received.

"This person asked for a shipment of parchment in ivory, but we accidentally sent them a shipment of parchment in pearl. When legitimate mistakes happen, we try to remedy the situation in a way that will satisfy the customer the best, like giving them a discount on their next purchase or letting them keep the botched order while also sending the correct order to them."

"What about the off the wall complaints?" Ronan asked.

"Sometimes I just ignore them," Donatella said, "or I just send a form letter...Thank you for bringing your concern to our attention, blah-blah-blah. Something along those lines. So, wanna try to answer some mail? It's fun."

"Sure," Ronan said. As it happened his cubicle was just behind Donatella's, so if he had a question, he really didn't have to get up and ask her for help. He could just turn around his chair and ask her.

He accepted the stack of comments and complaints and attempted to tackle them at his desk.


Tea, Biscuits, And An Unexpected Discussion
Author: Saffron 
Date:   09-19-10 17:12

Saffron had greeted the sixth years as they came into her tower classroom. At times, when she's standing at the entrance greeting them or bidding them goodbye, she finds it hard to remember what the old entry into this tower room was like. Narrow, wooden, ladder like stairs leading to a trapdoor in the floor. Saffron's long wondered if Sybil Trelawney liked it that way because it gave her more of a sense of security, even though one wasn't really needed. Was this room always the Divination classroom or had other professors preferred one of the many other rooms the castle has to offer over what was once a somewhat claustrophobic space, made more so by Sybil Trelawney's decor choices.

As the students came in, Saffron would direct them to the pots of tea brewing. "Go on and grab a kettle and a cup and get started. There are fresh peanut butter biscuits and oatmeal cinnamon raisin ones as well, for those in need of a snack now that we're two hours past lunch."

The biscuits are still warm and the students eagerly take some, especially some of the boys who are still growing. After she'd marked the roll and collected a homework assignment, Saffron picks up a peanut butter biscuit and nibbling it, begins walking around the room to help students with their tasseography, more commonly known as reading tea leaves. She does a little lecture style teaching but reading tea leaves is definitely one a more hands on learning experience. Saffron goes from table to table, helping decipher what they're reading, guiding them to the pages in the text that will be of most help for what they think they are seeing, and that sort of thing.

About halfway through class Matilda Flanders asks an unexpected question. "Professor, if I'm really gifted at reading tea leaves or any other form of divination, could I make a lot of money off it, say in the Muggle world?"

Saffron moves to sit on the edge of her desk, picking up an oatmeal cookie as she passes by the table they're on. "That's an excellent question, Matilda. Yes, it's possible, but the Ministry would do its best to try and keep you from fleecing Muggles."

Francis Yao then asks, "So the Ministry is going to automatically assume someone wanting to setup a divination business with Muggles as clients is going to just be out to make a profit?"

"Unfortunately, yes. There are people, some gifted but most not, who try to use it to their advantage, which is not in itself a bad thing, but when it comes at the expense of others, it generally is."

Edward Croft is the next to join in. "Could you give an example?"

With a nod I say, "About thirty years ago there was a woman Janet Fielder. She is a witch, yes, is. Still living. Janet Fielder was a witch who was skilled at transfiguration but not so much at any form of divination. She used her transfiguration skills to change her looks. Oh, it was never much, just slight alterations here and there to look more like she thought the Muggle concept of a fortune teller looked like. She dressed the part and called herself Madam Janetra. She had list of regular clients, all rich. Madam Janetra would use a combination of reading body language, asking leading questions without them seeming leading, potions, and magic to get information from these clients. She'd then use that information while pretending to divine the future, telling their fortunes, contacted the deceased. She made quite a lot of money."

"What happened to her?"

Saffron looks towards the source of the question, Deak. "Janet Fielder was caught and tried. Most of the money was returned but not all of it."

Matilda says, "But what if someone is really talented at say interpretting tarot cards and wanted to offer services to Muggles?"

"The best course is to get a license from the Ministry. It helps identify the person as more likely being above board though the Ministry is going to monitor the business."

"But why does the Ministry even care?"

"Because, Geoffrey, there is a risk of exposing magic use to Muggles, even if unintentional."

"So that's the real reason. It hasn't nothing to do with scamming people out of money." Edward says.

"That's a very big reason, yes; however, there are some who do care whether people from the Wizarding World use their skills and talents to bilk Muggles."

"Is everyone who's good at divination a witch or wizard?"

"No, Berengaria, but those with the most real talent at it do seem to have least some level of magical skill. Or so I've read and been told. That may not be true but I don't know if anyone's ever done a study of it or even how a study could properly be done."

"Most don't think any type of divination talent is real, right? Deak says.

"That's true. I've lost count of the number of times I was asked to prove I have any talent. Usually, the one wanting the proof wants me do an on the spot mind reading and when told that's not how real divination works, they immediately scoff and say that's proof right there that there is no such thing as divination skills."

"Isn't mind reading more along the lines of, oh, what's it called? Legal something."

"Legilimency. Yes, what some might call mind reading is more along the lines of legilmens and not divination. But try telling that to someone who's already decided that is no such thing as honest to Merlin divination talent. Some of those people just cannot be logically reasoned with."

"Even if they know what leg... what's it called again?"

"Legilimency, and even if they are fully aware of what legilimency and the counter for it, occlumency, is."

More questions and comments follow and when class time ends, Saffron says, "Instead of the homework assignment on the board, how about you each do a one to two page paper simply stating your opinion on whether who has all the divination talent in the world should still be required to have a license to run a business, be it in the Wizarding or the Muggle worlds. I don't care what your opinion is either way as long as you back it up with a sound argument. Bring it with you Friday. Also, bring your dream diaries. We won't discuss any entries but I do want to make sure you're making use of the diaries. Now go and take whatever leftover biscuits you'd like."

There's a bustle of activity as tea pots and cups are washed out and put on shelves, items crammed into book bags, and chairs scooted back under tables. There's also a rush on what's left of the biscuits. Some of the fifth years start coming in as soon as the sixth years begin exiting the room. Saffron puts out a more of the biscuits, all still warm thanks to the heated container she had them in, and starts greeting the fifth years, moving to the door to welcome in the rest as they arrive.


Tuesday Morning
Author: Bill Weasley 
Date:   09-20-10 07:19

Fleur pushed a cup of tea into Bill's hand and then straightened his tie.

"I don't know how I managed to oversleep," he mumbled, followed by a giant yawn.

Victoire was a decent sleeper, but she usually rose early and served as a good alarm clock for Bill during the week... and, unfortunately, on the weekends too. Perhaps the steady rain and gray sky had kept Victoire sleeping, and thereby Bill too, a little longer than usual.

He drained his cup and placed it into Fleur's open palm. "I better head to the office. See you at lunch?"

"Yes. 'ave a good day at work."

They kissed, and then Bill kissed Victoire in her high chair and grabbed his briefcase before setting off for the bank. For obvious reasons, one couldn't apparate into Gringotts, so Bill apparated right outside the building and then used his key to enter the bank. The overhang over the front door had provided enough shelter for Bill not to get wet the short time he was outside in the rain.

He wasn't the first to enter the bank. All the goblins on schedule were already there. They tended to be early to work everyday. He greeted them and turned to his office.

Bill put his briefcase down on a chair and pulled off his jacket, sliding it over the back of his chair. He sat down and started sifting through the paperwork on his desk. The first thing he happened to see wasn't work related, though. It was a folder containing the copies of the notes he'd mysteriously received that seemingly had something to do with Helena Tufton.

Like with the first one he'd received during the summer, Bill had gone to the Ministry of Magic to discuss it with law enforcement. He'd also talked to his brother Charlie and to Julian Valentine. The Ministry had the originals and was hoping to identify the source of their origin. Meanwhile, Bill, Charlie, and Julian had no theories themselves because everything they thought might be, couldn't. Adriana and Helena were both very much dead, weren't they?

He guessed he would have another letter before long, but when and about what exactly? Bill thought back to when Helena had been in their lives, but couldn't recall anything else of significance other than the wedding that wasn't with Charlie, and the anniversary of it wasn't for a few more months.

Bill found himself becoming distracted already and pushed the folder away for legitimate work. Not too long thereafter, the bank opened for business for the day. He remained focused enough to get through the day without thinking about Adriana and Helena and mysterious notes, but only just.


A Little Stressed
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer 
Date:   09-20-10 16:37

Why is it that helping with a wedding of a family member, and even though she's my son's step-sister and my ex's stepdaughter I do think of Jewel as my family as well, is so much more exhausting than when it's someone else? We regularly have wedding receptions or rehearsal dinners and lots of other types of dinners and parties but this helping with Jewel's and Bailey's has me worn out. Maybe it's something to do with the greater emotion you experience when it's people you know so well and care about nearly as much as you care for your own child.

The wedding and reception are Friday and as tired as I am from it, I hate that it's going to be here so soon. I have enjoyed working closely with Jewel and Vivian is a wonderful woman. I hope Virgil doesn't do something to mess up the marriage like he did with ours. With the wedding planning, there have been times I longed for a daughter of my own. I wouldn't trade Phin for the world but another child, a daughter, would be nice. Whether he and Emerald end up getting married or he ends up with someone else, I do wonder if I'll have as much fun with that wedding planning. Or, will I be on the fringe because I'll just be the mother of the groom? I hope not and if not, that I won't be one of those take over the planning mothers/mother-in-laws some are saddled with.

I can well imagine what Bailey's snob of a mother would be like if she decided to help with the wedding. The small, intimate wedding would balloon to a huge affair with hundreds of guests. While that would certainly be nice for the restaurant's business, I'm also betting Lisbeth Gray would insist on having the reception at some larger, grander venue, like perhaps the Gray family mansion.

I'd known Ian and Lisbeth Gray long before Lisbeth was a Gray and never cared for either of them. I'm still amazed that they produced an exceptional son like Bailey. What distaste I had for them has intensified over their attitude towards Jewel. How can you not like Jewel? She's intelligent, sweet, funny, caring, and loves their son. She makes him happy. For most parents that would be enough but not Lisbeth and Ian Gray. Jewel is not pureblooded. Jewel isn't from a moneyed background. At least they don't seem to have problems with Jewel's color as well, not that it's any consolation.

All these thoughts are swirling around in my head as I walk through the gloomy morning weather to Botanicals & Beyond. Even though she's more in the line of herbs, spices, house plants, teas, and that sort of thing, Travis also does flowers and since we first started using her business, we've entirely changed over to her exclusively. Her flowers are far nicers, her arrangements are gorgeous, and her prices are cheaper, plus it gives the business to someone here in Hogsmeade. That's always a good thing.

Travis and I are going to select flowers for the wedding. Even though it's not until Friday, we're going to go on and do that today and use magic to keep the flowers looking fresh. Friday Travis will do the actual arrangements as well as bouquets.

I could have floo'd from the restaurant or apparated what with the foul weather but I really needed to get out and get some fresh air, clear my head. Twice more now I've sworn I've seen Forest's lookalike and twice more I've failed to catch up to him and see him face on, find out who he is. It's made me frustrated and on edge. I've been stressed over that man since the Emrys Fest sighting and combined with the stress of getting things ready for the wedding, I know I've been unnecessarily short with people and I'm generally a very patient person but lately I get impatient over the least little thing.

Maybe I'll take some time off and take a vacation. I've not had a real vacation in ages. Where would I go though?

Reaching the door to Botanicals & Beyond, I glance up the dreary sky and ruefully think someplace dry would be nice.


Another Attack
Author: Harry Potter 
Date:   09-20-10 17:11

The morning had started out well enough even though a Tuesday is not really the the most optimal day to have a day off. Still, it meant a day not dealing with the increasingly whiny Perry Heath, a day away from other cases, and getting to have a much longer lunch with Ginny and then the afternoon with her and dinner with Ginny, Hermione, and Ron with Molly and Arthur at the Burrow. Even if Harry hadn't had the day off, there would have been dinner at the Burrow but that's beside the point. The point is, the day is now officially not a day off and lunch with Ginny is most likely cancelled as will any other plans they would have made over lunch on how to fill the afternoon.

Things had been so quite with regard to the terrorist type attacks that had happened to Harry and then to Ron that the round the clock watches weren't strictly enforced. The decision was about to be made to stop diverting all the home mail to the Ministry for inspection before Harry, Ron, and the others could put hands on any of it. The consensus was that they were random attacks and the person had gotten his jollies and moved on.

As of right now, the thinking is back to Harry and those closest to him as being targets. The person or persons has merely been biding time, allowing everyone to breath a sigh of relief and get on with their lives.

Pinky had just gotten back from taking Rocko home to Janine after spending another morning on a long walk and frolicking in a wizarding park. Harry was catching up on reading one of his Quidditch magazines that had just been released to him from the Ministry the night before, a WWN program playing in the background though Harry wasn't really paying much attention to what songs were playing.

There was a knock on the front door and Pinky scurried to answer it even though Harry was nearer and already halfway off the couch. Next tihng Harry knew there was an explosion and Pinky was slamming into the opposite wall, sliding down it then crumpling to the floor. Luckily? the bomb exploded early, before Pinky had the door fully open and he was partially shielded from the blast. He might have been killed otherwise though as it is now, he's seriously injured. Thankfully, the healers Harry first encountered when rushing into St. Mungo's with the unconscious House Elf didn't turn up their noses at helping a "creature" then sending Harry to a veterinarian. He's not sure if it's because they are more liberal minded, if it's because they didn't think Pinky would make it that far, or if it was because the House Elf was brought in personally by the "famous" Harry Potter. Harry doesn't care what the reason is, he's just glad they took Pinky without argument and have worked as vigorously on him as they would a human patient.

Someone else tried to lead Harry into another exam room and only then did Harry realize he wasn't unscathed. His ears are still ringing so badly he's not sure what all has been said to him about his own injuries much less Pinky's. No one has that grim someone's just died look though so that's a positive. Harry got someone to contact the Ministry for him then when Griffin and Ron arrived, Ron contacted Ginny as well as Arthur and Molly.

A nurse finally shooed everyone out of the exam room so that they could finish checking Harry over. He really hopes they can stop his ears ringing soon because he'd love to know specifically what everyone around him is saying and find out what's what with Pinky.

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