Discovering the Working Life

Disclaimer: see first chapter.

As usual, Dacian Goddess has made this chapter edible.

In less than two hours, I will be subjected to my first job interview. I feel a bit nervous, I think. Severus accuses me of having prevented him from sleeping, my breakfast has remained untouched on the kitchen table (had I tried to eat it, it would be back on the table anyway by now), and I'm already ready. I'm currently pacing the ridiculously small lounge of this house. Were I sure to stay married with Severus, I would try and convince him to move out.

To keep my mind busy and away from the interview ... and given the fact that I'm unable to concentrate on anything right now, even if it were an Arithmancy treatise ... I recall the purchases made with Tonks on Saturday afternoon. I would have liked to have gone with Ginny, but I don't want to go anywhere near a Weasley for now. An outing with Tonks had been a good idea: we had a lot of fun. Thanks to her talents as a Metamorphmagus, she had adopted a look resembling Serverus as much as possible and had tried on black robes, looking me up and down and telling me in a menacing tone, "Miss Granger, twenty points from Gryffindor for needing so much time to choose a robe." Then she had turned tail while trying to make her robes billow like Severus does. He must have patented his robe move, because honestly, I've never seen anyone doing it in such an impressive manner as his.

I got back home with five new robes and three new pairs of shoes. There's nothing like shopping to lift a girl's morale.

Nimbus Racing Broom Company is displayed in big letters on the building, but the Muggles can only see an old dilapidated warehouse. A broadly smiling receptionist directs me to Caesar Frenchbean, the personnel manager. He's waiting for me, seated in a comfortable, black-leathered armchair. His impressive belly keeps him distant from the glossy surface of the massive desk in front of him. He's with a stern-looking woman who reminds me of McGonagall, Guinevere Greeding. She's the Head of the Legal Department.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. Sit down, please," he says pleasantly.

I sit down in the armchair that he points out to me, which matches his own. Then the questions burst, and they remind me somehow of the YLC questionnaire. Of course, there are the classic questions like, "Tell me about yourself," or, "What are your strong points and weak points?" along with unexpected questions like, "Do you speak Mermish?" (What's that to do with broomsticks?), or, "Do you have your driver's license?"

I answer as honestly as possible. When they ask me, "Do you love your husband?" I answer, "The YLC tests showed we have a ninety percent compatibility rate." They're impressed, and I don't have to give a real answer. However, I'm not sure the question was relevant to the job position. At the end of the interview, they inform me that I'm hired at Nimbus as of April third with a one hundred and fifty Galleon salary per month. I could kiss them.

Hermione seems particularly cheerful tonight.

Indeed, my wife is all smiles and jumps up and down while I hang my cloak at the coat rack. Her eyes shine, her cheeks have a pinkish hue and her lips are red thanks to her worrying them with her teeth. My imagination provides me with ways to occupy those lips and those... no, not the teeth. Of course, she speaks before I can build a more elaborate fantasy.

"Severus, I have good news, er, well, good news for me."

I let her go on.

"I've landed the assistant position at Nimbus!"

She doesn't say it, but it's crystal clear that she relishes the idea of not depending on me financially anymore. She doesn't realise that I relish the idea as well, but I won't tell her that; she would resign just to annoy me, so I take a tight-lipped air to answer her.

"I see. Don't believe, however, that your new, miserable independence will spare you your marital duties."

"Miserable independence? I will earn one hundred and fifty Galleons a month, which is more than correct for a first job," she retorts to me in an indignant manner, her cheeks blushing.

"Ah, but such good news should be celebrated."

My growing erection tries to nod its assent in spite of the briefs that cover it. I grab my wife's arm, and while she perseveres in verbally demonstrating to me how she is an independent and modern woman, I drag her to our bedroom. There, I kiss her (at last, silence); I stroke her; I undress her. I make her incoherent, unable to form a sentence, with my mouth, my tongue, my fingers. After her climax, I point out to her that it's her turn to give me pleasure, which she does well. Those red lips around my cock, those small hands on my balls... she only needs a mere handful of minutes to undo my austerity. Perhaps this marriage brings more to me than I thought.

"Severus, I forgot to tell you something. Actually, I ought to have told you for a while, but I never thought of it at the right time."

Oh, no, she's going to ruin last night's beneficial effects as early as breakfast. Yet I motion for her to continue.

"We're invited to Harry's and Ginny's engagement party on June 18th at the Burrow."

She's done it! She's spoiled my week. Maybe I still have a chance to get out of it.

"I have no doubt that you're invited. However, I doubt that the invitation would include me."

"No, you're well and truly invited. You're my husband after all. Besides, that's too good an opportunity to show that my convictions about giving second chances to people aren't just hot air."

She forgets that I've already used my third chance, perhaps even my fourth. After a while, one ceases to count that kind of thing. And her idea to use the event to get a message across to the community is interesting.

"Do you think that Scrimgeour will be there?"

"Probably, yes. It's traditional that the Ministry's employees send an invitation to the Minister for the important events in their lives. Usually, he asks his secretary to send a card, but for Harry, he'll probably come in person."

Perfect. That idiot tried to throw me in jail to increase his popularity (never mind whether I deserved it or not), then published a decree that nearly deprived me of my livelihood. To see the Death Eater, whose trial made his popularity rate decrease by fifteen percent, associate closely with the favourite important person of the wizarding world should twist the knife in the wound. And what is more, I'll be able to taunt all those yes-men of the Order of the Phoenix with my new-found conjugal life. I don't need much to be happy.

This is another Monday morning that sees me nervous and awake way before the dawn. I'm so excited at the idea of going to work. I pace again in the house, to the extent that Severus casts a Silencing Spell and a Petrificus Totalus in order to, I quote, "be allowed to have his breakfast in peace." He frees me just in time for me to arrive at eight o'clock sharp at Nimbus with an empty stomach. I shudder at the idea that I could have been late while I've been up since five a.m.

Guinevere Greeding is there to greet me and to introduce me to the lawyers I will assist.

"Here are Achilles Acidoton and Hyacinth Houret, the two lawyers of the firm."

"Nice to meet you."

I shake hands with the two men, one of whom is as fair and pale as the other is dark and black.

"Miranda, you couldn't have come at a better time. Let me introduce you to your new co-worker, Hermione Granger. Ms Granger, here is Miranda Malony, the other legal assistant."

"Nice to meet you," we answer together.

Mrs Greeding leaves me with Miranda, who takes me to a small room where two desks face each other. Bookshelves groaning under the weight of volumes and parchments decorate the walls, but spare the little window at the back of the office. While she guides me through the building, I observe her. Her teeth are perfect, and she doesn't fear to exhibit them in a perpetual smile. She's tall, and her figure is generous where it's supposed to be and nowhere else. I decide to keep an eye on her. Who knows if I'm not going to find a mistress for Severus at my very first attempt?

"I never imagined that people could be that irresponsible," I exclaimed in the middle of the morning on my third day at work.

Miranda stares at me, a question in her eyes. I only need that encouragement to say more.

"Really! That wizard was chased by the Royal Air Force while he was flying over London on his broom, and he takes us to court because our brooms don't have Spells against detection by Muggle radars. Everyone does know that flying over big cities is for the Aurors and certain important people only!"

She sniggers.

"You still haven't seen everything. The other day, we had to defend the company against a man who accused us of misleading advertising. The man weighs thirty one and a half stones, and he complained because his broom wouldn't fly. He was pretending that he only weighed one twenty three and a half stones, and the Nimbus 2001's label stipulated that it could transport up to three hundred and fifty pounds. We had him weighed by a consultant, but then, he lodged a complaint against the consultant on the pretext that the consultant's wand was damaged and couldn't have given the correct weight."

I shake my head, smiling, and pore again over an old book and my parchment. My colleague really is good company, and I appreciate her a lot. She has a fondness for sentimental novels in which the hero, dark and tragic, saves the heroine from a disastrous fate. Besides, she didn't hide her admiration for Severus as soon as she knew that we were married.

"It must have been terrible, to have to kill one's mentor. Poor man, he must feel so guilty."

Come to think of it, he doesn't really have a guilty attitude. For a reason I can't fathom, my mind is reluctant to analyse that observation. Maybe Severus has simply found a way to leave the bad moments of his life behind him to better meet the future. I shrug inwardly and concentrate on the traffic rules for brooms over London.