From the distinctive sound of jangling of keys, Harry Potter knew that he was in trouble.
As the front door of his home swung inward he hurriedly hunkered down in his armchair, then peeked one eye up to confirm his suspicions… there it was! A flash of bushy brown hair wafted through the air as Hermione Granger stormed down the hallway to his bedroom. Foolish, really; she had caught him there last time. To think that he wouldn't learn was insulting, really.
However, he could settle his ego later. With her occupied by the illusory traps left in his bedroom, he could make his escape!
He made it halfway across the threshold and the accompanying anti-apparition arrangement before a conjured hand gripped him by the scruff of the neck, dragged his kicking form back down the hallway, and violently deposited him on his sofa. After Harry finished coughing his way through the clearing cloud of dust thrown up from his impact, he beheld Hermione perched on the armrest of his beloved chair.
"That's my chair, you know. I'm quite fond of it," he tried.
She merely stared at him. In the background, he heard the front door quietly click shut.
Harry shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze. "So lovely to see you?"
"Three weeks." She eyed the darkened hallway nervously, "those illusions were really…"
"Sorry?"
She sighed and crossed her legs aggressively, managing to exude an aura of disappointment and danger. Harry found himself equal parts ashamed and afraid. "For which part, Harry? Avoiding all of your friends, or attempting to traumatize those of us that search for you?"
"A man needs his privacy," he declared, straightening from his slouch and gazing into the distance.
"A man also needs a job. At the very least an occupation. You can't just sit around in this house forever, you know!"
Harry prepared himself to argue before thinking better of it.
"You have something in mind, I reckon."
If his quick acceptance of his fate surprised her, it didn't show. With much dramatic flair, she produced a flier from her bottomless bag and promptly slammed it down on his coffee table, which whimpered in submission.
At her incredulous look, he simply said, "George did… something to it. Keeps tea warm for hours though, which is neat."
She eyed the table speculatively for a long moment, and Harry almost dared to hope that he would be able to make his escape, but before he could do more than form the thought Hermione shook herself from her daze. "Nice try. Here, look."
He looked.
Floo Technician - Apprentice
Apprentice Floo Technician wanted for immediate hire.
Must have reliable means of transport (Apparition license or minimum Comet 512[or equivalent]).
O.W.L.s in Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms required.
Must be able to levitate at least 50lbs.
Must be able to work well under pressure.
…
It continued on for some length, the flier helpfully elongating itself as required, detailing wages, hours, benefits, and so forth. He was somewhat distracted by the fact that, out of the corner of his eye, he could clearly see Hermione watching him read. She just looked so hopeful. At the same time, there was an underlying weariness to her, as though she was resigned to his dismissal of her latest effort.
Was that the kind of person he was becoming?
He stared at the flier that was now long enough to function as a scarf a little longer. Then, with what he hoped was a casual tone said, "You think I'd be good at this?"
As her face lit up, he knew that he'd made the right decision. She was praising his creative problem solving skills when in a bind and he just leaned back and smiled back at her.
Seems he was going to be a Floo Technician.