Chapter 1: Job Search

No one in the real world will expect me to actually write lesson plans like this, let alone a unit plan with this level of detail. Ugh.

Setting aside the algebra textbook with a sigh, Lydia opened her email. Maybe there would be good news on the job hunt front.

Dear Ms. Kaminsky,

We regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you an interview at this time.

Sighing again, she skimmed the rest of the email. Irregularities with your college transcript…apply again in the future with appropriate documentation…

All the same things the last five public school systems had said.

"No, Mom, sending the transcripts again won't help!"

"But you do have a math degree! You just need them to see it!"

"Well, Mom…" No one has bothered to tell them that the wizarding university system exists? It doesn't help that my high school isn't in their system, either? I look like someone trying to pass off a fake degree from a diploma mill? "…It wouldn't be the right fit anyway," she said, knowing it wouldn't satisfy her mother any more than the last fifteen minutes on the phone had.

"Sweetie, you figured this out for grad school. Why can't you just do some wand-wave-y thing and let them see what you want them to see?"

Lydia grinned. Twenty-four years of marriage to Dad, and Mom still thought of magic as a wand-wave-y thing that could fix any problem without repercussions. Naïve, maybe, but a testament to the strength of her parents' marriage – and to her mother's confidence that Dad could make everything turn out ok. "I can't confund my way out of this, Mom. I'll keep looking. Maybe some magical school will eventually be looking for a math teacher. Or defense. I mean, I'd really rather teach math, but the odds of finding someone who believes my college exists and also wants me to teach math are pretty slim, so…maybe I need to widen my job search."

"You'd be the one to know about odds, sweetie."

"I wish I didn't. I don't ever want to teach statistics. Listen, I've got to go. Talk to you later, ok? Love you."

Grad school admissions had been so easy compared to this. The U had a liaison for students applying to No-Maj graduate school programs and jobs, and Lydia had gotten into her . program with no questions asked about the "questionable existence of her undergraduate institution" or "a double major in a subject no one has heard of." True, it had been her fault she had submitted the wrong transcripts when she applied to HCPS, the ones that had "Defense Against the Dark Arts" listed alongside math as her double majors, but it was not her fault that every damn school system in the state seemed to use Applitrack and they all got the same copies.

Lydia was starting to despair of ever getting an interview. In an unprecedented move, even the school system she was currently student teaching in had declined her an interview because of the inconsistencies in her application. Private schools either weren't looking to hire anyone at the moment, or had similar issues with her transcripts.

Perhaps the funniest was the call she'd gotten from the assistant principal of a local Catholic elementary school. "Listen, we would love it if we could interview you, but I have a cousin and I know what kind of school you went to for undergrad. We make all of our employees sign a statement of faith, and I don't want to put you in a position where you aren't able to sign it in good conscience because of the…other…part of your life."

Great. Even No-Majs who were in on the wizarding world weren't willing to give her a chance.

Drinking in the smell of her tea, Lydia unlocked her phone to read the text from her friend Emma. Emma was currently working in London, and she kept forgetting that a reasonable 9 am text for her was a 3 am text that Lydia wouldn't read til she was good and awake.

Any luck with the job search yet? You could always apply for this haha

Lydia squinted. The attached image was a picture of a classified ad from a newspaper. Wanted: Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Must have post-secondary credentials in Defense. Must be willing to live on-site during work week. Experience in education preferred. Owl for details: Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.

Hah. As if she would. There were plenty of math jobs in the Chicago area, and Lydia just needed to find one.

How'd the interview go? Saw that ad in the paper again and thought of you.

Was it worth telling Emma that the only reason this school had reached out to interview her was to double-check that her degree was in fact a fraud and to tell her not to bother applying with their system ever again, since there was now a red flag on her record?

Probably not.

Not quite right, Lydia texted back. Maybe better luck with the next one.

You know, I can owl them if you want, since I'm local.

In May, Lydia hadn't even considered it. In late July, with her teaching friends getting hired left and right, and no American magical schools with defense positions open…

Sure. Why not. Can I email you my resume?

"Sweetie, it just seems like a big step for a job you don't even have. Do you even know who these people are?"

"Mom, it's one of the most famous magical schools in the English-speaking world. It would be silly to turn down an interview with them." Lydia crossed her fingers and hoped her mother wouldn't think to ask why "one of the most famous magical schools in the English-speaking world" was still looking to fill a position in a core subject at the beginning of August when their school year started in September. Honestly, Lydia didn't know herself, and she was a little afraid to find out. "And if it doesn't work out, at least I'll get to spend some time with Emma. I haven't really gotten to see her since we graduated and she moved to London."

"All right, dear. Be careful with the Food."

Lydia shook her head. Somehow, despite having a Floo connection in her living room and using it regularly to visit her in-laws, Lydia's mother hadn't quite grasped the concept. Like so many things about the life her husband and her children lived, she loved them, accepted whatever happened, and ignored what she did not understand. Like Floo travel.

"I'll be careful, Mom. Just like a visit to Grammy's. I'll call you from Emma's when I get there. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetie. I believe in you."

Hanging up, Lydia shouldered her bag and headed into the Floo hub.