Written for the Careers Advice Class at the Hogwarts Forum.
Task: There are many different career options, some more popular than others. Auror, Healer and Professor are among the most popular, so for this assignment, I would like you to look at some of the less common careers. Take a career from the following list and base your story on a character taking up that career.
Careers used: Bar Maid and Obliviator
Extra Credit: You will receive 20 points extra credit if you write about a character in a job setting they do not have in canon. For example, if you write about someone other than Ollivander being a wandmaker, or Rosmerta being a bar maid, or Charlie being a dragonologist, etc etc.
(Extra Credit completed.)
WC: 1817
The bar is filled with sounds as she pours another drink for the customer in front of her.
It's a busy night, with a bachelorette party going on and the usual customers around.
Her brown eyes analyzes the space, cataloguing every face, every moment. Even though the war ended two years ago, some habits die-hard. Especially if you've been involved in a war against the cruelest wizard the world has even seen.
And that's the reason why she always make sure she knows every face, every corner, every exit from the places that she's in. You are never too prepared.
So, after her lookout, she rests her back against the shelves behind her and, folding her arms across her chest, she waits as the night goes on.
X
That's the thing about pubs. Even though every night is pretty much the same, not a day goes by that something out of the blue happens.
Little did she know that today is one of those days.
x
It's late when a guy in a black coat enters the bar.
"I'll have a scotch, please."
She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A chill runs down her spine at the sound of that voice.
She raises her head and, from her spot, she can see the man that made her years in Hogwarts a living hell sitting casually on a stool. The man that, all of a sudden, changed sides during the war, helping them win.
He's talking with another waiter at the end of the bar. His hair is longer now, his bangs almost covering his eyes. His hands are big and he doesn't play with the things in front of him. He keeps them still, waiting for his drink to arrive. He looks bulkier than she remembers. He used to be a defined but scrawny kid back in the day. Now, she can almost see the lines of his muscles over his shirt.
When he changed sides during the war, they developed some sort of friendship. Despite their first encounter, when he used to be acid and she used to be distrustful, they made some sort of truce, since they both have an amazing intellect and quick thinking.
And, they are both objective and can separate the emotions when they have to. So, they discovered that they could rely, at least to some extent, in each other.
She must have been staring for long time because, next thing she knows, he moving to sit in front of her.
"Granger?"
His voice is grave, probably from the lack of use, and his eyes are curious. "What are you doing here?"
She moves to be near him, folding her arms protectively across her chest before answering, "I work here, Malfoy."
Against her expectations, he only nods, thanking the waitress that delivered his drink.
She cleans the glasses at the bar, just to keep her hands occupied. He is having a sip of his drink and is looking around when she asks, "What about you? What are you doing here?"
He puts his glass down, "After the war I decided to be an obliviator. Voldemort did more harm than we imagined. He had this places where he kept muggles and squids and everything that he didn't agree with and tortured the living soul out of this people. I'm helping the people around the world to erase the memory of these people."
Her heart squeeze painfully on her chest. It's been two years but the legacy of Voldemort's terror still exists.
She clears her throat and, as she plays his words again, a thought enters her mind. "Wait. Are you an obliviator now? Because when I left, you're aiming to be a mediwizard."
He nods, finishing his drink. He doesn't ask for another one, but she serves him anyway.
"Yes, that is correct." His look is sullen and he looks older than he really is. "But I can't forget what happened with me. I can't just erase my memory, even though on some days, that's exactly what I want to do."
He stops and she can't help but agree with him. There are good days. Days when she's grateful for meeting this amazing and magical world, that gave her a sense of belonging, along with friends that she now considers as family.
But on the bad days, when the memories are too hard and the nightmares are more real than she likes to admit, she wishes that she could just make it all go away.
A look of understanding passes between his eyes. He knows that she understands him all too well.
"So," he drinks again, "Even though I can't forget, I decided that I wanted to make the ones that don't necessarily need to live with this burden to forget. To help them move on with their lives, I think."
She pours a glass of wine for herself, noticing that, because of the hour, the bar is almost empty.
"Well, a toast to you, that proves that people can change, after all."
He chuckles at that, but clings his glass with hers, drinking his scotch.
"Now," he says and she can fell his grey eyes analyzing her soul, "Are you going to tell me why you are a bar maid in a bar in Scotland?"
"Is that judgment that I'm hearing?" She asks, trying to avoid the question.
He shrugs. "No, just curiosity. You don't have to tell me if you don't want, though."
If it was any other person dismissing her explanation, she would scoff at them and call their bluff. But she knows Malfoy, at least a part of him, and she knows that he means it, when he says the he doesn't care if she answers or not. He knows, better than anyone else, how some matters are private, concerning only the ones involved in them.
And, if she's being honest with herself, it warms her heart a little, to know that he's giving her an out.
"I couldn't take it, anymore."
Her voice is so quiet that he thinks, for a brief second, that he'd imagined it.
He raises his eyes and tries to look inside her brown ones. They are looking ahead, without really seeing what's in front of her.
"Hey," He whispers, afraid to break the moment, "I was being serious. You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."
Her smile is empty and it pangs him to see it because her smiles are always so full of joy and happiness that brightens a room.
"I know." She's playing with her glass, biding her time.
He waits patiently, because he knows that sometimes that's all you can do for a person.
"When it ended," Her voice sounds detached, but he knows better, "I stayed behind and helped them to rebuild everything."
He remembers all too well. Everyone was broken, so broken, that she took the responsibility to herself to put everything back in order.
Now, as he stops to thinks about it, he wonders if anyone else offered her a hand. Looking at her lost eyes and sad smile, he knows that no, nobody else did.
When a waiter approaches him, she just shakes her head, and says, in few words, that she'll close the bar and that they could go home.
The door closes behind the ones that left, leaving the two of them alone.
She pours herself another glass and puts his scotch bottle on the bar.
"I never took the time to deal with my pain. To heal my wounds, both physically and emotionally. And, as we know, everything that we do has its consequences."
She holds her glass and closes her eyes for a moment.
As she gathers her thoughts, he stops to look at the woman in front of him.
Her skin is peachy, looking soft to the touch. Her hands are small, delicate, but he is well aware of how powerful they are with a wand in them. She's petite. He's positive that her head doesn't reach his shoulders. But, what he likes most about her is that her actual size is not on her outside, but on her inside. Her intelligence amazes him. He's a Slytherin so, ever since birth, he has been taught to plan, to analyze every detail and expect every possible outcome of a situation. On the other hand, she's a Gryffindor. She was supposed to act using her emotions but she's proves him wrong, always thinking before acting.
She would've been a great Slytherin, he thinks.
"I couldn't sleep, anymore." He startles as he hears her voice. "I had nightmares that kept me awake at night. I can't be in a crowded place and loud noises scares me."
She lists her symptoms and he only watches as she takes another sip of her drink.
"I developed survivor's guilt and the therapy and the fact that everyone knew me and talked with me and couldn't let me breath finally took its toll on me. So, I left."
He nods, unable to do anything else.
"Like you said, we can forget what happened to us," she looks at him and she looks more like herself now, "But we can do something to protect ourselves… I think we earned that right, don't you think?"
If it was anyone else, he would say that the person is being selfish. But if there's one thing that Hermione Granger isn't, is selfish. So he only smirks at her.
"Yes, I do."
"So," She cleans the bar, putting behind their bottles and picking their glasses and putting them on the sink behind her, "I left it all behind and moved here to Scotland, to try and start again."
She says it casually, but he can tell that she's still hurting.
Deciding to not pry anymore, he waits as she turns the light off.
He leaves the bar and looks around, noticing how quiet the streets are at this time of the night.
He feels her hand on the small of his back and he turns.
"You never did tell me why you decided to work in a bar."
She leans her back on the wall behind her. He copies her movement.
"I never liked to be in the center, you know?" He nods, and she continues, "And I miss routine."
He looks surprised at her. "I thought you were going to give me long list of motives as to why you decided to choose this path."
"I was, but it's late and I'm kind of tired."
He chuckles at her.
"So, I'll guess I'll see you—"
"Tomorrow." He finishes for her and she can't hold the gasp that escapes her lips.
He shrugs, "I miss routine, too."
There's a glint of mischief on his grey orbs and she laughs.
"I'll see you tomorrow then."
They smile at each other before parting ways.
Reviews are appreciated!