Hey! This is my newest story! Well technically adapted story. I actually stumbled upon my own copy of the boy next door two days ago and fell in love with it all over again. So I decided it would be fun to adapt it to a James/Lily Hogwarts style one.
This story is made in the format of E-mails.
Now there are characters I'm using (Spica Jenkins and Melissa Oxford) who are actually famous in other fanfics, and are originally the creation of RedHal. So I don't own any of them. Also, in this story, Sirius is James' brother. That was the only way to put it right, and think it was actually convincing seeing that both are really close and that James doesn't have a brother.
Please R&R, if you didn't read The Boy next door by Meg Cabot, you could still enjoy this one, since it's heavily based on it. (And I recommend you to read it already if you didn't; it's amazing, the perfect mix of romance and humor.)
Updates will be daily since I have the whole story typed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and The boy Next Door in any way, shape or form.
To: Lily Evans
From: Human Resources
Subject: Tardiness
Dear Lily Evans,
This is an automated message from the Human Resources Division of the Hogwarts Journal, New York City's leading photo-newspaper. Please be aware that according to your supervisor, managing editor Albus Dumbledore, your workday here at the Journal begins promptly at 9AM, making you 68 minutes tardy today. This is your 37th tardy exceeding twenty minutes so far this year, Lily Evans. We in the Human Resources Division are not out to get tardy employees, as was mentioned in last week's unfairly worded employee newsletter. Tardiness is a serious and expensive issue facing employers all over America. Employees often make light of tardiness, but routine lateness can often be a symptom of a more serious issue, such as:
·alcoholism
·drug addiction
·gambling addiction
·abusive domestic partner
·sleep disorders
·clinical depression
and any number of other conditions. If you are suffering from any of the above, please do not hesitate to contact your Human Resources Representative, Dolores Umbridge. Your Human Resources Representative will be only too happy to enroll you in the Hogwarts Journal's Staff Assistance Program, where you will be paired with a mental health professional who will work to help you achieve your full potential. Lily Evans, we here at the Hogwarts Journal are a team. We win as a team, and lose as one, as well. Lily Evans, don't you want to be on a winning team? So please do your part to see that you arrive at work on time from now on!
Sincerely,
The Human Resources Division
The Hogwarts Journal
Please note that any future tardies may result in suspension or dismissal.
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: You are in trouble
Lily, where were you? I saw that Dolores Umbridge from Human Resources skulking around your cubicle. I think you're in for another one of those tardy notices. What is this, your 50th? You better have a good excuse this time, because Albus was saying a little while ago
that gossip columnists are a dime a dozen, and that he could get Liz Smith over here in a second to replace you if he wanted to. I think he was joking. It was hard to tell because the Rosemerta wasn't here yet and he hadn't had his morning Butterbeer yet. By the way, did something happen last night between you and Severus? He's been playing Wagner in his cubicle again. You know how this bugs Albus. Did you two have another fight? Are we doing lunch later or what?
Milly :-)
To: Lily Evans
From: Severus Snape
Subject: Last night
Where are you, Lily? Are you going to be completely childish about this and not come in to the office until you're sure I've left for the day? Is that it? Can't we sit down and discuss this like adults?
Severus Snape
Senior Correspondent
The Hogwarts Journal
To: Lily Evans
From: Cissa Black
Subject: Severus Snape
Lillian-
Don't get the wrong idea, darling, I WASN'T spying on you, but a girl would have to be BLIND not to have noticed how you brained Severus Snape with your bag last night at Pastis. You probably didn't even notice me, I was at the bar, and I looked around because
I thought I heard your name, of all things-weren't you supposed to be covering the Prada show?-and then BOOM! Altoids and Maybelline all over the place.
Darling, it was precious. You really have excellent aim, you know. But I highly doubt Kate Spade meant that adorable little clutch to be used as a projectile. I'm sure she'd have made the clasp stronger if she'd only known women were going to be backhanding the thing around like a volleyball. Seriously, darling, I just need to know: Is it all over between you and Severus? Because I never thought you were right for each other. I mean, the man was in the running for a Pulitzer, for God's sake! Although if you ask me, anyone could have written that story about that little Ethiopian boy. I found it perfectly maudlin. That part about his sister selling her body to provide him with rice...please. Too Dickensian. So you aren't going to be difficult about this, are you? Because I've got an invite to Steven's place in the Hamptons, and I was thinking of inviting Severus to mix Cosmos for me. But I won't if you're going to go Joan Collins on me.
P.S. You really should have called if you weren't going to come in today, darling. I think you're in trouble. I saw that little troll-like person (Dolores something?) from Human Resources sniffing around your desk earlier.
Cissa XXXOOO
To: Lily Evans
From: Albus
Subject: Where the hell were you?
Where the hell are you? You appear to be under the mistaken impression that comp days don't have to be pre-arranged with your employer. This is not exactly convincing me that you are columnist material. More like copy-edit material, Evans.
A
To: Lily Evans
From: Severus
Subject: Last night
This is really beneath you, Lily. I mean, for God's sake, Fluer and I were in a war zone together. Anti-aircraft fire was exploding all around us. We thought we'd be captured by rebel forces at any moment. Can't you understand that? It meant nothing to me, Lily, I swear it. My God, I should never have told you. I thought you could be mature about this. But to pull a disappearing act like this... Well, I'd never have expected it from a woman like you, that's all I have to say.
Severus Snape
Senior Correspondent
The Hogwarts Journal
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa Oxford
Subject: This isn't funny
Girl, where are you? I'm really starting to get worried. Why haven't you called me, at the very least? I hope you didn't get hit by a bus, or something. But I suppose if you did, they'd call us. Assuming you had your press pass with you, that is. All right, I'm not really worried that you're dead. I'm really worried you're going to get fired, and I'm going to have to eat lunch with Cissa again. I was forced to go to Burger
Heaven with her since you're MIA, and it nearly killed me. The woman had a salad with no dressing. Do you get where I'm coming from here? NO DRESSING. And then she felt compelled to comment on every single thing I put in my mouth. Do you know how many grams of fat are in that fry? A good substitute for mayonnaise, you know, Milly, is low-fat yogurt. I'd like to tell her what she can do with her
low-fat yogurt. By the way, I think you should know that Snape's going around saying you're doing this because of whatever went down between the two of you the other night. If that doesn't get you in here, and pronto, I don't know what will.
Milly :-)
To: Albus Dumbledore
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Where the hell I was
Since it is apparently so important to you and Dolores Umbridge that your employees account fully for every moment they spend away from the office, I will provide you with a detailed summary of my whereabouts while I was unavoidably detained.
Ready? Got your Butterbeer? I hear that Rosmerta arrived safely and you got your drink just in time
Lily's Morning:
7:15-Alarm rings. Hit snooze button.
7:20-Alarm rings. Hit snooze button.
7:25-Alarm rings. Hit snooze button.
7:26-Wake to sound of neighbor's dog barking. Turn off alarm.
7:27-Stagger to bathroom. Perform morning ablutions.
7:55-Stagger to kitchen. Ingest nourishment in form of Nutrigrain bar and Tuesday night's take-out kung pao.
7:56-Neighbor's dog still barking.
7:57-Blow dry hair.
8:10-Check New York One for weather.
8:11-Neighbor's dog still barking.
8:12-Attempt to find something to wear from assorted clothes crammed into studio apartment's single, refrigerator-sized closet.
8:30-Give up. Pull on black rayon skirt, black rayon shirt, black sling-back flats.
8:35-Shoulder black bag. Look for keys.
8:40-Find keys in bag. Leave apartment.
8:41-Notice that Mrs. Pettigrew's copy of the Hogwarts Chronicle
(yes, Albus, my next door neighbor subscribes to our biggest rival: don't you agree with me now that we really ought to do something to draw more senior readers?) is still lying on the floor in front of her apartment door. She is normally up at six to walk her dog, and takes her paper in then.
8:42-Notice that Mrs. Pettigrew's dog is still barking. Knock on door to make sure everything is all right (some of us New Yorkers actually care about our neighbors, Albus. You wouldn't know that, of course, since stories about people who actually care for others in their community don't make for very good copy. Stories in the Journal, I've noticed, tend to gravitate towards neighbors who shoot at, not borrow cups of sugar from, one another).
8:45-After repeated knocks, Mrs. Pettigrew still does not come to door. Snuffles, her Great Dane, however, barks with renewed vigor.
8:46- Try handle to Mrs. Pettigrew's apartment door. It is, oddly enough, unlocked. Let myself inside.
8:47-Am greeted by Great Dane and two Siamese cats. No sign of Mrs. Pettigrew.
8:48-Find Mrs. Pettigrew facedown on living room carpet.
Okay, Albus? Get it, Albus? The woman was FACEDOWN on her living room carpet! What was I supposed to do, Albus? Huh? Call Dolores Umbridge down in Human Resources?
No, Albus. That life-saving class you made us all take paid off, see? I was able to tell that not only did Mrs. Pettigrew have a pulse, she was also breathing. So I called 911 and waited with her until the ambulance came. With the ambulance, Albus, came some cops. And guess what the cops said, Albus? They said it looked to them as if Mrs. Pettigrew had been struck. From behind, Albus. Some creep whacked that old lady on the back of the head! Can you believe it? Who would do that to an eighty-year-old woman? I don't know what this city is coming to, Albus, when little old ladies aren't even safe in their apartments. But I'm telling you, there's a story here-and I think I should be the one the write it.
Whadduya say, Albus?
Lil
To: Lily Evans
From: Albus
Subject: There's a story here
The only story here is the one I haven't heard. And that would be the story of why, just because your neighbor got whacked on the head, you couldn't come into the office, or even call anyone to let them know where they were. Now that is a story I'd really enjoy hearing.
A
To: Albus
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Where I was
Albus, you are so cold-hearted. I found my neighbor facedown in her living room, the victim of a brutal attack, and you think all I should have been concerned about was calling my employer to explain why I was going to be late? Well, I'm sorry; Albus, but the thought never even crossed my mind. I mean, Mrs. Pettigrew is my friend! I wanted to go with her in the ambulance, but there was the little problem of Snuffles. Or should I say the big problem of Snuffles. Snuffles is Mrs. Pettigrew's Great Dane, Albus. He weighs a hundred and twenty-nine pounds, Albus, which is more than me. And he needed to go out. Badly. So after I took him out, I fed him and watered him and did the
Same to Tweedle-Dum and Crookshanks, her Siamese cats (Tweedle-Dee sadly expired last year). While I was doing this, the cops were checking her door for signs of forced entry. But there were none, Albus. Do you know what this means? It means she probably knew her attacker, Albus. She probably let him in of her own volition! Even more bizarrely, there were two hundred and seventy-six dollars in cash in her purse that had been left untouched. Ditto her jewelry,
Albus. This was no robbery. Albus, why don't you believe there's a story here? Something is wrong. Very wrong. When I finally did get to the hospital, I was informed that Mrs. Pettigrew was in surgery. Doctors were frantically trying to relieve the pressure on
her brain from a giant blood clot that had formed beneath her skull! What was I supposed to do, Albus? Leave? The cops couldn't get in touch with anybody from her family. I'm all she has, Albus. Twelve hours. Twelve hours it took them. I had to go to her apartment to walk Snuffles twice before the surgery was even finished. And when it was, the doctors came out and told me it had only been partially successful. Mrs. Pettigrew is in a coma, Albus! She may never come out of it. And until she does, guess who's stuck taking care of Snuffles, Tweedle-Dum, and Crookshanks? Go on. Guess, Albus. I'm not trying to get sympathy here. I know. I should have called. But work was not necessarily foremost in my mind at the time, Albus. But listen, now that I'm finally here what would you think about letting me write up a little something about what happened? You know, we could hit it from the Be Careful
Who you let in to Your Apartment angle. The cops are still looking for Mrs. Pettigrew's closest relative-her nephew, I think-but when they find him, I could interview him. You know the woman really was a wonder. At eighty, she still goes to the gym three times a week, and last month, she flew to Helsinki for a performance of The Rings. Seriously. Her husband was Henry Pettigrew, of the Pettigrew twistie fortune. You know those twist-ties that go on garbage bags? She's worth six or seven million at least. Come on, Albus. Let me give it a try. You can't keep me doing gossip for Page Ten forever.
Lil
To: Lily Evans
From: Albus
Subject: You can't keep me doing gossip for Page Ten forever
Yes, I can.
And do you know why? Because I am the managing editor of this newspaper, and I can do whatever I want. Besides, Evans, we need you on Page Ten. Would you like to know why we need you on Page Ten? Because the fact is, Evans, you
Care. You care about Taylor Swift's dating status. You care that Harrison Ford's had a chemical peel. You care about Kim Kardashian's breasts, and whether or not they are silicone, and did they or did they not explode last month when she was vacationing with Kanye.
Admit it, Evans. You care. The other thing ain't a story, Evans. Old ladies get bonked on the head for their Social Security checks every day. It's called a telephone. Next time, call. Capice? Capice. Now get me the copy on the Prada opening.
A
To: Albus
From: Lily Evans
Subject: I do not care about Kim Kardashian's breasts...
...and you'll be sorry for not letting me run with the Pettigrew story, Albus. I'm telling you, there's something there. I can smell it.
And by the way, Harrison would NEVER get a chemical peel.
Lil
PS And who doesn't care about Taylor Swift's love life? Look how cute she is. Don't you want her to be happy, Albus?
PPS: and they didn't explode, they leaked. Because of the altitude, Albus. God, don't you even READ my column?
To: Human Resources
From: Lily Evans
Subject: My Tardiness
Dear Human Resources,
What can I say? You caught me. I guess my:
·alcoholism
·drug addiction
·gambling addiction
·abusive domestic partner
·sleep disorders
·clinical depression
And any number of other conditions has finally caused me to hit bottom. Please enroll me in the Staff Assistance Program right away! If you could hook me up with a shrink who looks like Brendan Frasier, and preferably conducts his therapy session with his shirt off,
I'd appreciate it. Because the primary condition from which I am suffering is that I'm a twenty-seven year- old woman living in New York City, and I cannot find a decent guy. Just one guy, who won't cheat on me, doesn't live with his mother, and isn't turning to the Arts section
of the Chronicle first thing Sunday morning, if you know what I mean. Is that asking so much? See if your Staff Assistance Program can handle that.
Lily Evans
Page Ten Columnist
NY Journal
To: Severus
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Can't we discuss this like adults?
There's nothing to discuss. Really, Severus, I'm sorry for throwing my bag at you. It was a childish outburst that I deeply regret.
And I don't want you to think that the reason we're breaking up has anything to do with Fluer. Really, Severus, we were over a long time before you ever told me about Fluer.
Let's face it, Severus, we're just too different: You like Stephen Hawking. I like J.K Rowling. You know it would never have worked.
Lil
To: Cissa Black
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Severus Snape
I did not throw my bag. It slipped out of my hand when I was reaching for my drink, and accidentally flew through the air and hit Severus in the eye.
And if you want him, Cissa, you can have him.
Lil
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Where I was
Okay, okay, I should have called. The whole thing was just a nightmare. But that's not what's important. This, you're never going to believe: Severus cheated on me in Chechnya.
That's right. And you'll never guess who with. Seriously. Try to guess. You never will. All right, I'll tell you Fluer Delacour.
Uh-huh. You read that correctly: Fluer Delacour, respected senior ABC news Correspondent, most recently host of the television news magazine TwentyFourSeven, and voted one of People Magazine's 50 Most Beautiful people last month. Can you believe she slept with SEVERUS? I mean, she could have Tom Cruise, for Merlin's sake. What would she want with SEVERUS?
Not that I didn't suspect. I always thought those stories he kept emailing in during that month he was on assignment there were way too smug. You know how I found out? Do you?
He TOLD me. He felt he was ready to reach the next level of intimacy with me (three guesses as to what level THAT is) and that in order to do so he felt he had to make a clean breast of it. He says ever since it happened, he's been wracked with guilt and that none of it meant anything. God, what a putz. I can't believe I wasted three months of my life on him. Are there no decent men out there? I mean, besides Remus. I swear, Milly, your boyfriend is the last good man on earth. The last one! You hang on to him, and don't let go, because I'm telling you, it's a jungle out there.
Lil
PS Can't go to lunch today, I have to go home and walk my neighbor's dog.
PPS don't ask: It's a long story.
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: That Jerk
Look, the guy did you a favor. I mean, be honest, Lil. Did you really picture a future for the two of you? I mean, he smokes a PIPE, for crying out loud. And what's with all that classical music? Who does he think he is, anyway? Harold Bloom?
No. He's a reporter, just like the rest of us. He's not out there writing fine literature. So what's with that bust of William Shakespeare he keeps on top of his monitor? The man is a big phony, and you know it, Lil. That's why, in spite of the fact you two went out for three months, you never slept with him. Remember?
Milly ;-)
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: That Jerk
I never slept with him because of that goatee. How was I supposed to sleep with someone who looks like Robin Hood? He didn't want me enough even to shave.
What's wrong with me, Milly? Am I really not worth shaving for?
Lil
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: That Jerk
Give up the pity quest, Lil. You know you're gorgeous. The man is obviously suffering from a psychiatric disorder. We should sic Dolores Umbridge on him. Where are we going for lunch today? And do NOT say Burger Heaven. If I don't get down to a size 12 in two months, the wedding's off. Every girl in my family has worn my mother's dress to her wedding. I am not going to be the first Oxford to schlep out to Klinefeld's.
Milly :-)
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Lunch
Milly, you know I can't go to lunch. I have to go home and walk Mrs. Pettigrew's dog.
Did you hear the latest? Chris Noth and Winona. I'm not kidding. They were seen kissing in front of Crunch Fitness Center on Lafayette Street. How could she be so blind? Can't she see he isn't any good for her? I mean, look what he did to poor Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex and the City.
Lil
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: Reality check
Lil,
I hate to break this to you, but Sex in the City is a fictional program. You might have heard already that there are these things called TV shows? Yeah, they are fictional. What happens on them in no way reflects on real life. For instance, in real life, Sarah Jessica
Parker is married to Matthew Broderick, and so whatever Chris Noth's character did to her character on her show, it didn't actually happen. In other words, I think you should be less concerned for Winona, and more worried about yourself, because this dog thing? Yeah, it's beginning to suck. That's just my opinion, of course.
Melissa
To: Lily Evans
cc: Melissa
From: Amos Diggory
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL
All right, girls, hold on to your hats. I got the information you requested, the salary increases for next year. It wasn't easy. If you tell anybody where you got this information, I will accuse you both of having gambling addictions and you'll be yanked into the Staff
Assistance Program before either of you can whistle Dixie.
Here goes:
Name: Position: Salary:
Cornelius Fudge Editor in Chief $120,000
Albus Dumbledore Managing Editor $ 85,000
Narcissa Black Style Editor $ 75,000
Severus Snape Chief Correspondent $ 75,000
Melissa Oxford Food Critic $ 45,000
Lily Evans Page Ten Columnist $ 45,000
Dolores Umbridge Human Resources Admin. $ 45,000
Read it and weep, girls.
Amos Diggory
Computer Programmer
Hogwarts Journal
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL
I can't believe Dolores Umbridge makes as much as we do. What does SHE do? Sits around and listens to people whine all day about their dental plan. Please. I'm surprised about Narcissa. I'd have thought she made more. I mean, how does she keep herself in Hermes scarves on a mere $75,000 a year?
Milly ;-)
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL
Are you kidding? Cissa comes from money. Haven't you ever heard her talk about how she used to summer in Newport? I was going to ask Severus out for an I-forgive-you drink after work-NOT to get back together with him, just so he'll stop with the Wagner already—but now that I see how much more he makes than me, I can't even bear to look at him. I KNOW I'm a better writer than he is. So what's he getting $75,000/yr, while I'm stuck at $45, doing fashion shows and movie premieres?
Lil
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL
Um, because you're good at them? Fashion shows and movie premieres, I mean.
Milly ;-)
PS I have to do that new Peking duck place on Mott. Come with me. We'll grab lunch.
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Lunch
I can't. You know I can't. I've got to walk Snuffles.
Lil
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: Lunch and That Dog
Okay, how long is this going to go on? You and that dog, I mean? I can't be going out to eat by myself every day. Who's going to keep me from ordering the double patty cheddar Lilt? I am serious. This dog thing is not working for me.
Milly
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Lunch and the Dog
What am I supposed to do, Milly? Let the poor thing sit in the apartment all day until he bursts? I know you aren't a dog person, but have some compassion. It's only until Mrs. Pettigrew gets better.
Lil
PS This just in: James Mayer and Katy Perry? On again. I swear it. His publicist just called. Apparently, she's totally over Brand now.
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: It's only until Mrs. Pettigrew gets better
And when is THAT going to be? Earth to Lil. Come on, Lil. The woman is in a COMA. Okay? She is COMATOSE. I think some alternative arrangements for the woman's pets need to be made. You are a DOORMAT. A COMATOSE woman is using you as a DOORMAT. The woman has to have some relatives, Lil. FIND THEM.
Besides, people shouldn't keep Great Danes in the city. It's cruel.
Milly :-(
PS You are the only person I know who cares about James Mayer and Katy, seriously girl, get over it.
To: Lily Evans
From: Blake and Rosalind Evans BlakeRose
Subject: Mary McDonald
Lily, honey, it's Mom. Look, your father and I got the Email! Isn't it great? Now I can write to you, and maybe you'll answer for a change! Just kidding, sweetheart. Anyway, Daddy and I thought you'd want to know that little Mary McDonald-you
remember Mary, don't you? Dr. Zachery McDonald's little girl? He was your dentist. And wasn't Mary Homecoming Queen your senior year in high school?-Anyway, Mary just got married! Yes! The announcement was in the paper. And do you know what, Lily? The Duane County Register is on the line now. What? Oh, Daddy says it's ONLINE, not on the line. Well, whatever. I get so confused. Anyway, Mary's announcement is ONLINE, so I am sending it to you, as what they call an attachment. I hope you enjoy it, dear. She's marrying a doctor from Westchester!
Well, we always knew she'd do well for herself. All that lovely blonde hair. And look, she graduated suma cum laude from Princeton! Then she went to law school. So impressive.
Not that there's anything wrong with being a reporter. Reporters are just as important as lawyers! And Lord knows, we all need to read some nice gossip now and then. Why, did you hear about Ted Turner and Martha Stewart? You could have knocked me over with a feather.
Well, enjoy! And you make sure you lock your door at night. Daddy and I worry about you, living there in that big city all alone.
Bye for now-
Mommy
Attachment:
(Glam photo of wedding couple)
Mary Deborah McDonald, the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Zachery Andrew Phillips of Lansing, IL, was married last week to Dirk Cresswell, the son of Dr. and Mrs. Reginald Bourke of Chapaqua, NY. The Rev. James Smith performed the ceremony at the Roman Catholic Church of Saint Anthony in Lansing.
Ms. McDonald, 26, is an associate at Schuler, Higgins, and Brandt, the international law firm based in New York. She received a bachelor's degree from Princeton, from which she graduated suma cum laude, and a law degree from Harvard. Her father is a dentist and oral surgeon in Lansing, operating the Phillips Dental Practice.
Mr. Cresswell, 31, received a bachelor's degree from Yale and an MBA from Columbia University. He is an associate at the investment banking group of Lehman Brothers. His father, now retired, was the president of Bourke & Associates, a private investment firm.
After a honeymoon trip to Thailand, the couple will reside in Chapaqua.
To: Lily Evans
From: Cissa Black
Subject: Mothers
Darling, when I heard all that anguished shrieking from your cubicle just now I thought at the very least Tom Cruise had finally come out of the closet. But Milly tells me it's just because you received an email from your mother. How well I understand. And I am so glad my mother is far too drunk ever to learn to operate a keyboard. I highly suggest you send your doting parents a case of Campari and have done with it. Trust me, it's the only way to shut them up on the dreaded subject of M. As in, Why aren't you M yet? All your friends are M. You aren't even trying to get M. Don't you want me to see my grandchildren before I die?
As if I would EVER give birth. I suppose a well-mannered little six year old would be all right, but they simply don't COME that way. You have to TRAIN them. Too tiresome. I can understand your anguish.
Cissa XXXOOO
PS Did you notice Severus shaved? It's a pity. I never realized what a weak chin he has.
To: Lily Evans
From: Dolores
Subject: Staff Assistance Program
Dear Ms. Evans, You might think it amusing to make light of the Human Resources Department's Staff Assistance Program, but I can assure you that we have helped many of your co-workers through dark and difficult times. Through counseling and therapy, they have all gone on to lead meaningful, profitable lives. I find it disheartening that you would belittle a program that has done so much for so many.
Please note that a copy of your latest email has been placed in your personnel file, and will be available to your supervisor during your next performance review.
Dolores Umbridge
Human Resources Administrator
The Hogwarts Journal
To: Dolores Umbridge
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Staff Assistance Program
Dear Ms. Umbridge,
What I find disheartening is the fact that I reached out to you and all the other Human Resource administrators, and instead of being given the aid I so desperately need, I was brutally rebuffed. Are you saying that my chronic status as a single woman is not worthy of assistance? Do I have to tell you how demoralizing it is to buy Lean Cuisines Fiesta Meals For One every night at the Food Emporium? What about having to order my pizza by the slice? Do you think that isn't whittling away at my self-esteem, slice by disheartening slice? And what about salad? Do you have any idea how many pounds of lettuce I have ingested in an effort to maintain my size 6 figure, so that I might entice a man? Even though it goes against every fiber of my feminist being to cater to the misogynistic more that exists in western culture that insists that attractiveness is parallel to one's waistsize? If you are trying to say that being a single woman in New York City is not a disability,
then I respectfully submit that you visit a Manhattan deli on a Saturday night. Who do you see crowded around the salad bar? That's right. The single girls. Face reality, Dolores. It's a jungle out there. It's kill or be killed. I am merely suggesting that you, as a mental health expert, accept that truth, and move on.
Lily Evans
Page Ten Columnist
The Hogwarts Journal
To: Lily Evans
From: Albus
Subject: Cut it out
Stop teasing Dolores Umbridge down in Human Resources. You know she doesn't have any sense of humor. If you have so much free time, come to me. I'll give you plenty to do.
The obit guy just quit.
A
To: Lily Evans
From: Severus
Subject: Forgive Me
I don't know where to begin. First of all, I can't stand this. You ask what this is. I'll tell you: this is sitting here all day, seeing you there in your cubicle, knowing that you said never want to speak to me again.
This is watching you walk towards me, thinking you might have Change your mind, only to have you pass by without so much as even glancing in my direction. This is knowing that you'll walk out of here at the end of the day, that I will have no idea where you will be, what you will do, and that an abyss of time will elapse before you walk back in here the next day.
This-or should I say, these?-are the countless, uncountable hours during which my mind leaves me, and pursues you out the door, following you in an imaginative journey that leads nowhere, right back where I started, sitting here thinking about this.
Severus Snape
Senior Correspondent
The Hogwarts Journal
To: Severus
From: Lily Evans
Subject: This
That was really moving, Severus. Have you ever considered writing fiction for a living?
Seriously. I think you've got real talent.
Lil
To: Melissa
From: Remus Lupin foodie
Subject: We Got Email
Milly! Look! We got email!
Isn't it righteous? You can write to me at foodie . Get it? I'm foodie because I'm the chef! Anyway, just thought I'd say hi. Now we can email each other all day long!
What are you wearing? How come you never wear that bustier I got you to work? Do you want to know tonight's specials?
·Asparagus tips wrapped in salmon
·Soft Shell Crab
·Lobster bisque
·Pasta putanesca
·Red Snapper in an orchietta sauce
·Filet Mignon
·Creme brulle
I'll save you some bisque.
Hey, by the way, my uncle Casper is throwing us an engagement party next weekend. Nothing fancy, just out by the pool at his house in Long Island. So keep Saturday free!
Love you,
Remus
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: Another one
Look, Remus's uncle Cas' throwing us an engagement party (yes, another one) and I'm telling you right now, YOU HAVE GOT TO COME. Seriously, Lil, I don't think I can handle another round of Lupins without you. You know what they're like. And this one has a pool. You know they're going to throw me in. You just know it.
Say you'll come and keep me from being humiliated. PLEASE.
Milly :-O
PS And don't you be giving me that damned DOG excuse again.
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: I can't
You know I can't go. How am I supposed to go all the way out to Long Island when I have Snuffles to think of? You know he has to go out every four to five hours. I am wearing out my Steve Madden's as it is running back and forth between the office and my apartment building, trying to get there in time to take him out. There's no way I can go all
the way out to Long Island. The poor thing might explode.
Lil
PS Vivica-you know, the supermodel, and Adam Levin's latest arm candy—has dumped him! Seriously! She's dumped Levine! He is said to be devastated, and she's gone into hiding. Poor things. I really thought that one was going to work out.
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: Snuffles
Okay, this is ridiculous. Lil, you cannot put your life on hold just because your next door neighbor happens to be in a coma. Seriously. There must be someone in the woman's family who can look after that stupid dog. Why do YOU have to do it? You've done enough, for God's sake. I mean, you probably saved her life. Let someone else handle Snuffles and his digestive schedule. I mean it. I am not getting into that pool on my own. If you don't find this woman's next of kin, I will.
Milly :(
PS Excuse me, I understand your concern for Winona, but Adam Levine? And Vivica? the Victoria's Secret water-bra girl? They'll be fine. Trust me.
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Snuffles
It's easy for you to say let someone else handle Snuffles. My question would be WHO? Mrs. Pettigrew's only living relative is her nephew Peter, and not even the cops have been able to find him to tell him what happened to her. I know he lives somewhere in the city, but his phone number's unlisted. Apparently, he's some up-and-coming photographer with pictures in the Whitney, or something. At least, according to his aunt. And quite popular with the ladies...ergo, the unlisted number, I assume so the ladies husbands can't track him down. And of course, his aunt doesn't have his number written down
anywhere because she undoubtedly had it memorized. In any case, what can I do? I can't put the poor thing in a kennel. He's already freaked out enough about his owner being...well, you know. How can I leave him locked up in some cage somewhere? Seriously, Milly, if you saw his eyes, you wouldn't be able to do it, either. He is the sweetest thing I've ever seen, and that includes all my nieces and
nephews. If only he were a man. I'd marry him. I swear it.
Lil
To: Melissa
From: Remus Lupin foodie
Subject: What do you mean you're not going?
Milly, you HAVE to go. The party is for YOU. Well, you and me. You can't not go. And don't give me any of that bull about how you don't want anybody in my family to see you in a swimsuit. How many times do I have to tell you that you are the hottest girl in the world? Do you think I care what size you wear? You have it going on, girl.
Only you should wear those thongs I bought you more often.
I don't understand what difference it makes whether or not Lily goes. Why do women always have to do things together? It doesn't make any sense. Besides, if you feel that strongly about it, just tell them you have an ear infection and can't get in the water. Jeez. I don't get you dames. I really don't.
Lupin
To: Lily Evans
cc: Milly
From: Cissa Black
Subject: Your Little Problem
Darlings:
I couldn't help but overhear your little tete-a-tete in the Ladies just now. I was otherwise occupied, or I would have joined in (we really ought to talk to someone about how narrow those stalls are. Fortunately, Jimmy-you know, the new fax boy-is quite surprisingly flexible, or we never would have managed ;-) First of all, Lil, sweetheart, Peter Pettigrew did not have just any old picture in the
Whitney-which you would know, if you ever ventured out of Blockbuster long enough to take in some real culture. He had a stunning self-portrait on display there for the Biennial, in which he was sans apparel. If you ask me, the man's a photographic genius.
Though that may not be where his true talent lies, judging by that photo...if you get my drift. And I'm sure you do.
Anyway, he has, for reasons unfathomable to me, chosen to cheapen his gift by prostituting himself out for photo shoots such as, just as an example, last Winter's Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. And he just finished up the Victoria's Secret Christmas catalog, I believe. All you have to do, children, is contact those so-called publications, and I'm sure they'll know how to get a message to him. Well, ta for now.
Cissa XXXOOO
PS Oh, Lil, about Severus. Look, can't you throw him a bone? He's no good to me like this. And all that Wagner is giving me a migraine.
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Listen, thanks to Cissa, I think I've finally managed to track down Peter Pettigrew!
At least, no one seems to have his number, but I've got an email address. Help me draft a note to him. You know I don't do well with groveling.
Lil
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy
From: Lily Evans
Subject: Your aunt
Dear Mr. Pettigrew,
I hope you get this. You are probably not aware that the police have been trying to reach you for several days now. I am sorry to inform you that your aunt, Helen Pettigrew, has been seriously injured. She has been the victim of an alleged assault in her apartment.
She is currently listed in critical condition at Beth Israel Hospital here in New York. Unfortunately, she is in a coma, and the doctors have no way of knowing if she will ever come out of it.
Please, Mr. Pettigrew, if you get this message, call me as soon as possible on my cell phone, 917-555-2123, or if you are unable to get to a phone, please feel free to email me.
We need to discuss how you think your aunt would best like her pets cared for while she is in the hospital. I know this is the last thing you need to be worried about right now, considering how grave your aunt's condition is, but I can't imagine that, being the great animal lover she is, your aunt didn't have some sort of proviso arranged for just this sort of circumstance. I am her next door neighbor ( in apartment 15B), and I have been walking Snuffles and taking care of your aunt's cats, but I'm afraid that my schedule does not allow for full-time petcare. Taking care of Snuffles is beginning to effect my job performance.
Please contact me as soon as you can.
Lily Evans
To: Lily Evans
From: Melissa
Subject: The Letter
I like it. Short but sweet. And it gets the point across.
Milly :)
PS I think it's good you left out the part about all your tardies. No one in the real world cares about tardies. Just at OUR Shit work place does anyone keep track of how late we are.
To: Melissa
From: Lily Evans
Subject: The Letter
Yeah, but do you think he'll even get it? From what I can tell based on the people I've talked to so far, this Peter Pettigrew seems to be taking the role of playboy artiste to brand new heights. In fact, I can't believe he's never hit Page Ten before! Plus it seems like he's always on the road. The guy was in Thailand on a shoot last month, Hawaii last week, and this week, what do you know? Nobody seems to have any idea where he is. Oh, and it's no good trying his cell phone: According to SI, he lost it scuba diving in Belize. If he even gets this message, does he sound to you like the kind of guy who'll even do anything about it? I'm a little worried.
And it's okay, I guess. I mean, I'm bonding with the cats (well, Crookshanks won't come out from under the bed) and Snuffles' like my best friend now.
But I've gotten five more of those tardy warnings from Human Resources. They are seriously going to put me on probation! But what can I do? Snuffles NEEDS a good hour long walk in the morning. Still, if I have to ditch out of one more society function because
I have to get home to walk that dog, I'm pretty sure I'm going to get fired. I completely missed the Sarah Jessica Parker thing the other night because Snuffles wouldn't go. I had to walk him for like an hour. Albus was furious, because the Chronicle got the scoop on us.
Though what the Chronicle is doing, reporting on celeb gossip, I can't imagine. I always thought they were too highbrow for that!
Lil
Whew, that's it!
I really hope you enjoy it, please read and review. Give me a hint whether I should continue it or not.
-Marley