Chapter 1- Shrewd Slytherin From Fen
The hall of Masten Megacorp was pristine, as always, as Larry Gardener ran the mail trolley throughout the office delivering parcels. Mail day was hectic, but he was told it was the intern's job to deliver them. And as he handed a parcel to a Mr. John Smith- an executive from accounting- he noticed how hurried the man was.
"Hello, John. Everything alright? Rough day?" Larry asked, politely.
"As well as I can be, Lad. Mr. Masten has put out a memo saying we can't smoke except at the designated picnic table. It'll take most of my break to get there."
Larry smiled curtly. "True. But you know what the big man says…"
"Yes, clean habits makes for efficient workers. Do yourself a favor, and don't start smoking. As for me, I must be off. Can't very well be bloody late clocking in or Mr. Masten will have a conniption fit…"
Larry nodded diplomatically and let him pass. There was one more parcel he had left to deliver that really buggered Larry. And it was addressed to Shelliana, Mr. Masten's daughter. But he recognized the rough parchment envelope and that crest on that bright red waxen seal. He quickly surmised to get it to Mr. Masten immediately, hastily taking the elevator to Mr. Masten's executive suite.
Carefully, he knocked on the door. "Mr. Masten...I have a letter for you. Well, it's actually for Shelliana. Can I come in?"
Mr. Masten gestured him in and hung up the phone, musing. "Yes, please. Take a seat. Sorry about that. Business with acquisitions have run amuck in our Japanese department. It's because of their lack of proper english, no doubt. Not to mention I had to have my secretary send out a memo about our smoking policies, but if being honest. I should ban the whole thing. A filthy habit, smoking, am I right?"
Larry always felt uncomfortable and in awe of Charles Masten, a man who used his family's wealth to invest in a few wise technological advancements including the wave of computers in the 70s and 80s, among other things.
"Of course, sir. A filthy habit, indeed." Larry managed.
Mr. Masten nodded curtly, almost proudly. "As you say, a filthy habit. So you have a letter you say, any idea from whom?"
Larry eagerly handed over the letter, preparing a speech to defend his alumnus status at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and how wonderful it was for Shelliana to go there, but before he could even speak, Mr. Masten took out a silver lighter- engraved and embossed
with his initials in gold- and rummaged an ashtray from his drawer and burned the letter in it, his body stiff as a board.
"That will be all, Mr. Gardener." Mr. Masten said in stiff dismissal, gesturing the poor intern out and briskly closing the door behind him.
It was nearly a week before another letter came but Larry was ready this time. Instead of giving it to Mr. Masten, he took it upon himself to stash it away, resolving to answer the letter himself. Larry waited hours until it was his lunch time. He wrote a letter that he would have to send later. Larry smiled at the possibility of his plan's success. It wasn't, after all, like Masten Megacorp had an owlery.
Hastily, Larry returned from lunch barely clocking in on time. He was getting ready to see if anyone needed him to run any errands when he noticed John was livid.
"Bloody hell, he is taking our smokes and now our coffee too?!" John ranted, shaking his balding head.
"Everything alright there, John?"
"No! It most certainly isn't! The coffee machine has been removed for...budget cuts!" John practically spat the word. "Not to mention he all but singled out Cheryl in the latest memo. Said she couldn't listen to any non work material on the job. Even though she's studying for night school. The nerve!"
Larry frowned. This was starting to get out of hand; he could only hope his letter was received and soon. John persisted in his rant.
"I say! If Mr. Masten keeps on with these absurdities, I will be tendering my resignation!"
Larry nodded diplomatically. "I understand, John. Maybe talk to him about it? I mean a dip in morale is bad for business. I'm sure he'll understand."
John scoffed at Larry and continued to rant until Larry had no choice but to press on.
It was a few days later when a familiarly scrawled letter came with his step-mom's owl, one he'd been expecting. It was a crisp cool morning. The grey on the horizon implied it was a high likelihood of rain. His step-mom had already left for her work at the ministry and his mom was sleeping in after a long night the previous day before. After plating himself some toast and bacon, He opened the letter and he smiled.
'Dear Mr. Gardener, I must say it was quite a surprise to hear from you, but I am quite glad to do so. I still recall the depth of your transfiguration skills and remain thoroughly impressed. I am further surprised that
with all your talent you are working at a muggle technology facility of all places, although I understand your reasoning. Per your last letter, however, I must say, that whilst I approve of the initiative you've taken on behalf of Mr. Masten and his daughter, it is with regret that I must inform you that the school would still require a parental signature for you to act on their behalf. I have enclosed such a permission slip to be included in official school documents. At any rate, I am pleased to know you are in fine health and are continuing to have new experiences and await your reply
Most sincerely, Professor Minerva Mcgonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Larry cocked his head. There was no way Mr. Masten would sign a Hogwarts permission slip, not after the way he casually burned the letter. But Larry knew that he was nothing if not cunning, and he'd find a way.