A/N: As one of the few living employees remaining at Sal-Tal Studios (Eucla 4Ever) I was requested/conscripted to submit a chapter portraying a typical day in the life at PIMMPLE. Regardless of whether you actually enjoy this installment, I am asking you to please follow/favorite/review as my life literally depends on it if my employment contract is to be believed.

Indenturedly yours,

Petrificus Somewhatus

A/N/N: Happy anniversary to our homies over at Sal-Tal Studios Server. Can't believe it's been a whole year, feels like 4 months and 5 days since the server was first created.

Now enjoy this gift from Petri to you.

-Tal

Performance Review

Hermione was profoundly aware of the tick tick ticking of the nearby clock as she waited for her partner to arrive.

Partner

Who was she kidding? He was a child; a supremely gifted, exceedingly brilliant, somewhat charming, and thoroughly self-absorbed child. Sometimes she'd wished the troll had finished her off in first year to spare her from the nonsense the succeeding years had wrought.

Well that wasn't quite true. Harry was still a fierce, albeit flaky friend. But as a business partner he was awful. Horribly inefficient and perpetually lazy, he skated by on his brilliant skill and keen intellect. If not for the fact that his medical prowess and last name were virtual goldmines she would have ended their partnership years ago.

So to get the rainbow she had to suffer through a bit of rain from time to time. And relying on Harry to show up for, let alone actively participate in, a work meeting always resulted in a torrential downpour of aggravation.

He was always very dutiful at showing up for his clinic hours, she could rightfully dock his pay for that transgression, but all other appointments and requests were a crapshoot at best. She hadn't been able to decide if Harry would show up in person to torture her this particular morning or would choose to make her suffer from afar. Regardless of which route Harry chose it was sure to be aggravating.

She looked at the clock.

8:57 am

She'd know in a few minutes whether the idiot would be attending their scheduled meeting. If he was going to actually deign to grace them with his presence, he would pop into the room exactly two seconds before the meeting. Not five minutes early…or a few minutes late…two seconds. Always two seconds. Just to annoy her. The worst part was she knew he did it to annoy her. And she knew that he knew that she knew and yet it still annoyed her. It was very annoying

But that wasn't the most annoying part of Harry's punctuality. The most annoying part was when he didn't show up at all. It was her fault really. Harry was very intelligent, very observant, and an utter arse when he wanted to be. Those three factors all came into play a few years prior when she'd lectured him for not showing up for a specific appointment. She had gone a bit longer and been a bit harsher than necessary and concluded her lecture with the phrase that would haunt her for all eternity.

"At the very least you should be considerate and let me know ahead of time."

It was a thoroughly benign, exceedingly fair request to make of a normal, considerate human being. But when Harryhad smiled, she knew she was doomed. She'd said the magic words (at the very least) and Harry had seized on them immediately. From that point on Harry's 'notification' was consistent, aggravating, and met the absolute minimum requirement to be classified as 'considerate.'

She felt the paper airplane hit the side of her head precisely one second before the meeting alarm sounded. One second. Whether he'd never planned on attending or something had come up at the last minute, it was always one second. And it was always delivered via a stupid muggle paper airplane. Hermione wasn't sure how he managed it but, despite knowing exactly when to expect it, she never saw the blooming thing coming.

Hermione ignored Tracey's snort of amusement. She was in charge and it was important that Tracey respected her! Hermione did her best to hide her annoyance and quickly read Harry's note.

Can't make it today. Ginny's had a setback with her flying so I'm doing a bit of research. It appears that she's having trouble sorting out her Intent at the moment. Of course that's just a theory. I have a lot of research hours in store for me, unfortunately.

Of course it had to do with Ginny.

Hermione had hoped for years that Harry would find that special someone, settle down, and become a bit more responsible and considerate. But that hadn't happened…at all. If anything he had dragged his partners down to his exceedingly low level.

First it was Gabrielle; kind, sweet, departed entirely too soon, Gabrielle. At least the girl had been kind and sweet; until Harry had sunk his soul bonded hooks into her. Then she became shallow and irresponsible…the idiotic yin to Harry's imbecilic yang. But even with how much Harry had corrupted the girl, Hermione was glad that they had found each other. She, along with everyone else, had been enchanted by their epic romance and had looked forward to many future installments of the Harry and Gabby story. But alas, that was not to be. The author of their particular tale had been a proper unfeeling bastard.

To this day she had no idea how the girl had actually died. Whenever the topic came up Harry would make some idiotic, alliterative comment, vaguely alluding to the cause of her demise. First it was something to do with a Boggart, then a Howler…and on and on the stupid, ridiculous, annoying, overly long list went. This was the supposed love of his life! His literal soul mate…bonded by magic for eternity (eleven months). How could he be so callous and dismissive after the epic tale that was their love story? One minute Harry was spending a disturbingly large amount of time angsting in a graveyard and the next he had thoroughly and utterly moved on.

Hermione had made countless comments about how much she'd missed Gabrielle and how disheartening his casual dismissal of the woman and her death had been, but they'd all fallen on seemingly deaf ears. After less than a year of mourning the insensitive jokes began to flow and Harry simply moved on to Ginny.

Ginny. Her supposed best female friend and founding member of the Harry Potter is an Awful, Awful Person and also Supremely Annoying club. But now, not only had the traitor resigned from the club, Ginny had actually joined him in his atrocious behavior. Was Harry's secret plan in life to systematically dismantle all of the female friendships she'd made over the years? Who was next? Luna? Fleur? Molly? Professor McGonagall? Her own mother? She would put none of it past Harry.

Harry settling down had actually had the opposite effect that she'd hoped for. Not only did he skive off his responsibilities as much or more than he used to, now he had an additional treasure trove of excuses for his responsibility shirking.

Research. Oh how she had come to despise that word over the years thanks to Harry.

His partners' magical maladies, which he'd already diagnosed and solved, were constantly mined as a resource to be a lazy, inconsiderate, arse. All in the name of research. The worst part was, because both cases were unprecedented, she had no facts at her disposal to dispute his claims, regardless of how flimsy the research topic actually was.

Researching the effects of touch on his bond with Gabrielle…or distance…or the winter solstice…or the summer solstice…drinking cold orange juice versus drinking lukewarm orange juice…the idiotic list went on and on. And once Gabrielle was gone, Ginny's condition seamlessly and effortlessly assumed the role of never ending excuse generator.

His favorite nonsense buzzword to use over the last few years was Intent, simply because he knew how much it annoyed her. Why or how Daphne Greengrass had become so renowned and lauded for stating the exceedingly obvious fact that Intent was important to magic was infuriating to her. Not only did he go out of his way to use the wretched term, Harry always capitalized it regardless of how it was being used. Even when Harry spoke the word she could practically hear the 'I' being stated in uppercase.

She knew it was all nonsense, but Gabrielle and Ginny always backed up his stupid stories when she'd confronted them about Harry's laziness and irresponsibility. Most infuriatingly, every time she slipped and actually said the word research, they would chuckle a bit more. Why was it that everyone in Harry's orbit became awful through osmosis merely by associating with him? And they all took up his practice of uttering annoying alliterations at all apt and ancillary opportunities. How was she the only one who noticed? Only Bill seemed to have the right of it. Her best friend was an utter dickhead.

She glanced at the clock once again.

9:05

She'd only spent five minutes mentally complaining about Harry. Much better. Her therapist would be pleased with her progress.

With her requisite morning 'complain about Harry' session over and done with, it was time to deal with her other work related nemesis. Tracey Davis.

Her employee was sat directly across from her, patiently biding her time and reading the same issue of Witch Weekly she'd perused last year at this time; the one with the headline blaring How To Deal With An Overbearing Boss. There had been some noticeable changes made since last year, however. The headline was flashing now and alternating between several colors, all hideously bright and irritating. And Tracey, presumably with Harry's input and assistance, had added a few smaller headlines to spice things up a bit from last year's version.

Daphne Greengrass: How the Brightest Witch of Her Generation Intentionally Captured the Hearts and Minds of the Wizarding World

That one had Harry Potter written all over it.

Are You Too Uptight? 5 Steps to Remove That Wand You've Got Stuck Up Your-

Well that was just wildly inappropriate. That meant it was Tracey's contribution.

You're the professional and they are just words, she told herself as she purposely cleared her throat and smiled pleasantly at her nemesis/coworker.

"Unfortunately Harry won't be able to make it today so I will be handling your annual performance review by myself, again."

Tracey placed the magazine aside and smiled at her pleasantly. Was Tracey's pleasant expression as insincere and forced as her own effort? Probably.

"As you know, in an attempt to make this evaluation as fair and informative as possible we, that is to say, I, have ranked your performance in several key categories on a scale of 1 to 5. A score of 5 would indicate that you are operating at peak performance with no discernable areas of improvement while a score of 1 would indicate that you are performing extremely poorly and could be subject to immediate termination without significant improvement. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Tracey replied pleasantly. She was good.

"Very good!" Hermione falsely enthused, "we, that is to say, I, asked you to perform a self-evaluation ranking your own performance. Did you bring your self-evaluation form with you?"

"Of course,' Tracey enthused brightly. Before she could react, Hermione felt a clipboard repeatedly tapping the back of her head.

She should have seen that coming.

Hermione quickly grabbed the clipboard and bit back the scream of frustration she so desperately wanted to let loose as she examined the form.

"You've ranked yourself as a 5 in every category, again, despite my request for you not to do so. Do you recall me explicitly and repeatedly asking you not to do that again this year?"

"Oh, that's right. My apologies," Tracey offered as she grabbed the clipboard and eyed the document critically. After several minutes of examination she handed the clipboard back.

It was much easier to fight off the scream this time as Hermione had anticipated the change.

"I see you've changed your ranking in one category from 5 to 4. So the only area where you believe you could improve is in…Cleanliness."

Tracey smiled. "I remember I left the coffee filters on the counter one day instead of placing them back in the pre-designated area you had assigned them in the cabinet. But other than that, I can't think of anything," she answered with an innocent shrug.

Hermione glanced at the clock once again.

9:15.

She'd made it ten minutes into Tracey's review without screaming. That was a full five minutes longer than she'd managed last year. Her therapy was really paying off. She could do this.

Well, seeing as you've declared yourself perfect in almost every way let's move onto your general comments about working here. Should I read them aloud to refresh your memory?"

"Absolutely," Tracey enthused.

"I don't like the color of the walls in Reception and I make good coffee."

"Hmm…as I recall you made the same comment about Reception last year and we repainted it to your specifications. Are you no longer happy with the off-white color that you specifically asked for?"

Tracey pretended to consider the question before answering. "I was hoping for something slightly more off I suppose. An off, off-white would be much better."

Hermione gritted out a smile. "Well, seeing as that color most likely doesn't exist I'm afraid you are just going to have to suffer with the off-white."

"It's fine," Tracey offered. "It's the least I can do for PIMMPLE."

"It's not called-" Hermione blurted automatically before stopping herself. Tracey was using Harry's stupid acronym for the clinic just to annoy her, but it wouldn't work. She glanced at the clock once again.

9:20. Five more victorious minutes.

"Let's move onto my evaluation shall we?" she asked, drawing a disappointed nod from Tracey. It was clear that Tracey had expected her to be angrier by now. Hermione was winning!

"Ideally I would have a completed evaluation from Harry as well but since he's-"

She was interrupted as another paper airplane crashed into her forehead. It was from the idiot. Hermione unfolded the paper and realized it was Harry's evaluation of Tracey. Unsurprisingly, he had also rated her 5 in all areas except for one: Cleanliness. That category had garnered a rating of 4 with the following explanation.

Tracey left the coffee filters on the counter one day instead of placing them back in the pre-designated area you had assigned them in the cabinet.

So not only had the bastard purposely not shown up, he was more than likely nearby and listening in an effort to annoy her as much as possible. She resolved to not let their critique of her organizational system get to her because she knew they were objectively wrong. Outlining specific areas in the kitchen cabinet for each and every item was a perfectly normal and reasonable thing to do to optimize the efficiency of the space available and provide a quick and-

Hermione stopped herself from defensively spiraling once again. She remembered her therapist's advice to focus on the positive things in her life when the stress and anxiety became too much. She closed her eyes and focused on the clinic's monthly financial ledgers.

Much better.

After gathering herself, her eyes roamed to the bottom of the page to read Harry's general comments:

Tracey is good at nursing things. She is also good at making coffee. She keeps a positive attitude in spite of the sub-optimal off-whiteness of Reception.

Fifteen more years…fifteen more years of leveraging Harry's medical acumen and celebrity for their clinic and then she and Ron would be set for life. She could leave the practice for Harry and Tracey to burn to the ground due to their ineptitude and she could focus on her academic research. Daphne Greengrass was living on borrowed time because one day she would expose her for the fraud that she was and Hermione would take her rightful place-

Another forceful cough from Tracey brought her back out of her visualization.

"Right, sorry about that. Let's move on to my review, shall we?" she suggested as she reduced Harry's form to ash with a wandless and silent Incendio. The amount of idiotic missives from Harry over the years had made her remarkably adept at the spell.

"In the category of Cleanliness I also rated you at a 4-"

"I'm really sorry about the filters," Tracey interrupted insincerely. "It won't happen again."

She purposely ignored her.

"Moving onto 'Thoroughness and Attention to Detail', I've ranked you as a 4, which, as you know, indicates your performance is above average but still has room for improvement."

"That's not fair," Tracey protested. "Two years ago you scored me lower because a few patient files were missing their admission forms. I've gone out of my way since then to ensure an admission form is completed for every patient visit."

Hermione took a breath.

"When I made that comment my hope was you would put in slightly more effort in making sure that the initial patient admission forms were completed and filed appropriately. I did not intend for you to force our patients to fill the same form out every visit and I certainly didn't intend or hope that you would assault our patients with clipboards until they complied."

Tracey sat back and folded her arms. "Assault seems a bit harsh, don't you think? And have you found any missing forms during your quarterly audits of the patient files since I took your advice?"

"I didn't advise you to-"

Hermione stopped herself and took a calming breath, silently celebrating as Tracey's face fell in disappointment. She'd almost had her there. Hermione began once again.

"No," she replied as calmly as she could manage, "in fact, I've had to put expansion charms on the filing cabinets because they are overflowing with unnecessary additional copies of the initial admission form."

"So I've been very thorough and attentive to detail. That rates a 5 in my book. If anything you should be marking me down in the 'Attitude and Demeanor toward Patients' category."

"Fine," Hermione grit out as she changed the score to a 5. "Based on that change, your score for Attitude and Demeanor is now a 2; below average and in need of improvement for continued employment."

Tracey's eyes narrowed. "You have to combine your score with Harry's right? So that averages out to a 3.5?"

Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

"I can live with that," Tracey stated with a satisfied smirk.

"Moving on," Hermione grit out, "for 'Problem Solving and Continuous Improvement', I've ranked you at a 3."

"Come on," Tracey protested, "I went out of my way to solve the missing admission file thing-"

"By purposely aggravating our patients in the process-"

"And," Tracey trudged on despite her interruption, "we ran out of sugar that one time and I increased our restocking order."

"You know my feelings on sugar, not to mention the fact that your solution was to order ten years worth! That wasn't a solution! You just came up with a new way of being lazy and forced me to reorganize the entire kitchen storage area!"

Tracey grinned triumphantly at her loss of control and Hermione cursed herself. Before she could look at the clock to document how long she had made it before losing her temper, another paper airplane crashed into her temple.

The smart thing to do would be to Incendio Harry's note without reading it but she knew Harry. If she did that he would find out and then use it as an excuse to ignore any and every memo she sent going forward. She unfolded the note and girded herself.

I think Tracey is a lesbian. Can you ask her?

Before she'd even thought to actually cast the spell the idiotic and highly inappropriate note was engulfed in flame. Importance of intent indeed…

Hermione decided she'd had enough and slid her evaluation across the desk.

"Right, I'm done. Do you have any questions about the three remaining categories?"

Tracey eyed her suspiciously as she processed Hermone's words, clearly believing she was being tricked.

"If I don't have any questions does that mean we are done?"

"Just sign on the bottom there," Hermione mumbled.

"What's my wage increase?"

"4%"

Tracey nodded her agreement and quickly signed. "In that case, I only have one question. Can I have the rest of the day off?"

Hermione glanced at the clock

9:35. It was a Friday and they had a full docket of appointments starting in thirty minutes. It was Harry's day off and if she granted Tracey's request she would be forced to run the office all by herself. That was always a hectic and stressful undertaking and she would be thoroughly worn out by the end of the day. The choice was obvious.

"Absolutely," she replied automatically.

"If it's not too much trouble, could you start the coffee before-"

"Have a nice weekend, Hermione!" Tracey interrupted before popping out of sight.

Hermione sighed. She really needed coffee but she had never managed to make it nearly as well as Tracey. If she hustled she would have just enough time to pop down to the local café and grab a cup. Hermione quickly disavowed herself of that notion as she remembered the flighty waitress that worked there most mornings. After what she'd just suffered through she had no interest in dealing with the woman's perky cheerfulness. She already paid for weekly therapy sessions, thank you very much, and didn't need some pixie in muggle form offering free advice instead of just handing over her damn coffee.

She was spiraling again. Hermione quickly put the perky muggle and thoughts of coffee out of her mind, focusing instead on dashing out a quick note to Ron.

The meeting went exactly as bad I expected so I'm going to need you to come up with something brilliant for supper tonight. Also wine. Lots and lots of wine.

As discussed previously, I'm going to need you to refrain from the H, T, DG, R or I words.

Hugs,

Hermie

P.S. Seriously. Wine.

A/N: I would like to thank Saliient91 and Taliesin19 (aka SalTal) for allowing me to muck about in their playground. I would like to thank them but they are horrible people and I'm doing this entirely against my will and if there is anyone out there familiar with Eucla labor laws please help me. Having said that they graciously helped beta this installment and their stories are quite good, I suppose.

Finally, a special shout-out to Nauze, the unfortunate soul who not only has to put up with SalTal's nonsense but mine as well. He was the beta MVP of this little slice of nonsense so any errors are entirely his fault.