Author's note: This came as a bit of a surprise. I decided to upload one part of the story just to have something to share as well, and before I knew it, some people were following it. I never expected that you guys. But considering this, I'll just start to take this a bit more seriously. I could use your feedback though, both to correct the already existing parts and for input as to how the story should proceed. Because I knew where to start (canon, start of OotP) and I know where I would like to end up (canon, end of DH), but the story in between is not entirely clear to me yet. I know where I want to go with some things, but not with others. So I'll just leave you with the all too familiar request: please R&R!
Chapter 3
That week I settled into my new life. Work was a rush. The moment I sent out one report, three more requests came in to gather information about laws and regulations in one country, write minutes of the Minister's meeting of a representative of another country, or arrange a conference with parties from a third country. Memos kept fluttering around my head the moment I tried to concentrate on an issue, and whenever I left my office to send out some finished documents, a stack of work was left on my desk the moment I came back. I enjoyed it, but if I'm honest with myself, I must admit that I became quite stressed as well. Because no matter how much I enjoyed the confidence people put in me, and no matter how much I wanted to show them I was worth every inch of their trust, every task took me a bit longer than it would take an experienced Ministry employee. I worked late hours, ate lunch and dinner behind my desk while pouring over reports, requests and letters, and I did not have a single night off to spend with Penelope, which I regretted immensely. But no matter how tired I got, I would not say no to a job I got, even if it took me all night.
Friday had been even more of a hassle than the rest of the week. For some reason, the Minister of Magic of Venezuela demanded an urgent meeting with Minister Fudge, and he simply would not take no for an answer. Not even when I pointed out that the Minister was booked for the coming seventeen weeks, and that people were waiting in line to have a word with him about one urgent matter or another. His secretary's head had been sitting in the flames of my office floo for at least twenty minutes, yelling insults at my capacities and intelligence until I was ready to bolt out of my office to cry in the nearest lavatory (looking back, I think I was just exhausted – I don't do such things), when Dolores came in with an all too familiar pile of scrolls. The moment she set eyes on my floo, she dropped her scrolls, drew her wand, and extinguished the flames with a well-aimed spell, giving the secretary from Venezuela a none too comfortable trip back into his own office.
Once the flames were entirely gone, she rounded on me with a fire in her eyes I recognised as a sign of danger. I expected her to yell at me and backed up instinctively, but she gave the fireplace another resentful look. "The nerve," she spat. "I cannot believe some people get the confidence of their local Ministers while not even being able to maintain a professional stance." I gave the dripping logs a nervous look and realised she was talking about the representative from Venezuela who had only just disappeared from the floo. I opened my mouth and shut it again, at loss for words. Dolores just looked me up and down and sighed wearily. "You should not let people talk to you like that," she said in a soothing tone. "You may not be all that experienced, but you know all about your job, andyou are aware of the code of conduct we maintain. You are better able to preserve some kind of order within this office than most people I know, so don't let them get to you.
The knot in my stomach started to dissolve. She was on my side, and it could not have been clearer. And we had a common ground. "You are rather fond of order, are you not?" I asked softly.
"I am," she replied, straightening her back. "Intelligent conversation about how we should interact is what sets us apart from other species. Never forget that, Mr Weasley. Order is the foundation of our society."
I gave her a smile. I had always recognised her as a person with a formidable personality, but I was unaware that she and I shared such important views. And even though we probably had nothing else in common, I felt proud for sharing this with her. After all, she was one of the most important people in the office, and in some respects, I had ambitions to become just like her. But to get there…
"Are those the files I need to process before Sunday?" I asked, pointing at the scrolls that were now scattered across the floor. I carefully picked up the roll closest to me and examined its contents. That would be difficult to wrap up, I noticed immediately. But I could do that. No problem, in fact. Because I knew what I wanted from life, and I actually knew just how to get there too.
I felt a lot better after my chat with Dolores, and I got to work again with renewed energy. But tired as I was, my resources were depleted again quickly, and I found myself waking up from a deep slumber at my desk around midnight, having worked until well past dinnertime. I rubbed my eyes and looked around my desk, which was still covered in paperwork that needed my attention. Better not go home right now, I decided. If I got all of this finished within a few hours, I could go home and enjoy the weekend without having to worry about anything, and I could come back on Monday to distribute all the finished pieces of work across the department, and make another well-rested start.
It took longer than I anticipated. I managed to keep my eyes open to finish everything, but by the time I screwed the lid back on my beloved bottle of Indian ink, the sun was high in the sky and my watch (which used to belong to Aunt Muriel's younger brother before he deceased) indicated that it was nearly noon. My back felt like I had been trampled by a band of raging Hippogriffs and there was a nagging pain just behind my left eye that threatened to spread through the rest of my head.
I walked out of the building to find London rainy and muddy. People were rushing past me, barely bothering to avoid running into me getting to their destinations. I had to jump out of the way several times before I even got to the end of the street, and by the time I was halfway home, the rain started making its way through my coat and my trousers were already soaked. I was cold, tired, wet, and thoroughly disappointed in the world. I shivered violently, and wanted nothing more than to get into a hot bath and not be disturbed. I secretly vowed to myself that anybody who disturbed me would die a most painful and slow death by the hands of yours truly.
I had to clutch my hands across my mouth not to scream when I saw the kitchen. Everything was covered in grease, pots, filthy towels or remains of something that had already dried up. Diana, with whom I shared the kitchen, had left, apparently, because when I knocked at her door, nobody answered and her room sounded empty even from the outside. I kicked the table in frustration, and a cup that had been balanced on the edge fell off and shattered across the tile floor. Hot tears stung in my eyes. Nothing, absolutely nothing of this would have happened if Father had not been such a hypocrite. If he had just treated me like any other member of the family when they got a promotion, if he had just sucked up his stupid pride and love for the bloody corpse that still ruled over Hogwarts like a tyrant. If he had remembered with whom his loyalties should actually be.
I startled when the doorbell rang. Swearing that someone was going to get hurt, I stomped down the stairs.