On Assignment

Chapter Three

Magical Miscellany: On Assignmnet

Week Two

As anyone who spends more than about five minutes alone with me soon discovers, I have serious attention issues. I need to have several projects going at once to keep me busy. Idle hands are the Devil's handiwork, after all. Last week, I had the new world of NMP to keep me entertained, not to mention getting settled in my new home.

This week, I realized I had no projects, no social life, no job; in other words, a stir-crazy Susan. First things first- a job.

Due to the salary drawn from writing this article and from previously authored books, I have no financial need for another job. But if I ever wanted to meet someone besides Dudley and his mother (believe me, that needs to be an option), a job was the easiest way to achieve this. I was terrified.

Then, I remembered- I'm an entirely capable twenty-seven year old woman, with considerable more appeal than some teenager that NMPs so often hire. I've never been imprisoned, I'm articulate, I'm not stupid- what could possibly keep someone from hiring me?

Well, it turns out that a twenty-seven year old without any job experience to speak of isn't number one on an employer's "to-hire" list. Luckily for me, the Wizarding World uses the same organization system as the NMPs, albeit by a different name- the Dewy Decimal System. Susan Bones is now the newest employee at Little Whinging Public Library. I'll begin my training at the beginning of next week, and work on Thursday. How exciting!

You may remember that my current abode has the distinct style of an elderly woman entirely too fond of cats. That leads me to project number two- the redecoration of my home. My room will be the first to undergo a transformation, and I'm not sure I can put into words how exhilarating it will be to have a space not painted a dingy pink and adorned with knitted doilies. I made use of my new employer and checked out a book on home decorating, NMP style.

It didn't look too incredibly difficult. I simply had to move the furniture to the center of the room, cover it, tape all the sections of the wall I didn't want paint on, and then go to town. Oh, how little I knew...

Q-q-Q

Susan pushed a strand of brown hair that refused to stay in a ponytail away from her face. It was time. The room was prepped, and she was so ready to be rid of the horrific pink forever.

Susan went to open the can of light green paint she had chosen, and found that it was quite difficult to pry the lid off. Five minutes of struggling and Susan was quite frustrated.

"There has to be something in this kitchen..." Susan muttered as she ransacked the kitchen drawers.

Though there were several somethings in the kitchen, none of them happened to open the can of paint. Susan felt torn between crying, cursing, and throwing the can of paint across the room. There was only one option left...

III

Ding-dong. Petunia looked up from her knitting, wondering who that could be. The only visitors she received... well, she hadn't had any visitors since the accident.

"Hello?" Petunia opened the door, and saw that woman who had moved into poor Mrs. Figg's old home. She was single, according to Dudley, and Petunia didn't like her.

"Ah... Mrs. Dursley? Is Dudley at home?" She looked sheepish, and was holding a can of paint for some unknown reason. Freakish is what she was, and Petunia certainly didn't want Duddy around her, but what choice was there?

"Sweetums! That woman is here!" Petunia wheeled back around to continue her afghan. For June, it was cold, and Diddykins had always been so cold-natured.

That woman was still talking to Dudley, and Petunia narrowed her eyes. Dudley ran up the stairs, and she was left on the doorstep, still with that can of paint. Petunia wondered if she was planning something.

Dudley can back down the stairs with a crowbar, and Petunia suddenly became worried. She didn't like the woman either, but Dudley did have a tendency to become protective. "Popkin, don't overreact, now, dear!" Petunia craned her neck, trying to see if there were going to be bloodstains on her doorway.

Dudley shut the door, and the crowbar was gone. "Mum? What are you talking about?"

Petunia turned to her knitting. "Nothing, popkin."

Q-q-Q

The rest of the painting went rather smoothly, but that was the most embarrassed I've been since my Hogwarts days. Dudley was helpful, but Petunia has quite a knack for making me feel very much eleven.

But, the bigger picture is that my bedroom is now mine, and I have a job. I refuse to let a slightly disturbed woman ruin my experience.

Until next week, faithful readers!

Susan Bones is one of "Witch Weekly"'s most well-known writers, most famous for her biography piece The Other Heros: The Often Forgotten Story of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. During the first five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ms. Bones dedicated her life to rebuilding the credibility of the wizarding media, bringing a much needed objective voice to publications such as The Daily Prophet. She currently resides in Diagon Alley with her cat, Fred. Readers can write letters to Susan while she is on assignment by the following address:

Susan Bones, c/o Quincy Igman

Witch Weekly, Little Red Publications

195 Diagon Alley, London

re: Magical Miscellany, On Assignment