The stress was getting to me. Most nights, I only got a few precious hours of sleep. Vieira managed the Leaky Cauldron while I rested, but she needed time to herself, too.

We had gotten in several hundred applications; there were too many, and Vieira eventually asked for help in sorting them out. Since I was the one actually hiring, it only seemed fair—to both of us—that I share this enormous workload.

Then there was the constant threat that Tom's family would act on their jealousies again. Like I needed that in addition to everything else going on.

And all of this was because Tom was dead. I didn't let my sorrow show while I was working. Rarely, when there was no one in the pub downstairs, I would excuse myself to mourn him quietly. Vieira knew what I was doing, and understood that I needed the privacy. Neither of us ever mentioned it.

So on a bright Saturday morning, exactly a week after that first incident with Tom's family, I was not in the mood for interviewing potential employees. I thought I hadn't scheduled any for the next few days, until a young girl showed up and asked where she ought to wait for her interview. It wasn't long before at least fifty people were crammed into the tavern, waiting for their own interviews. This was also not how I had scheduled it; I had planned for a few candidates to arrive at a time, to ensure short wait times.

I stood on the bar and shot sparks from my wand in order to get their attention. "Who can tell me how and why the date of your interview was changed to right now?" I demanded.

"We got a letter!" someone shouted back.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "What was in the letter?" I asked patiently. If this was what I thought it was…

A woman in the front had brought it with her, and wordlessly handed it to me to read.

To Applicants for the position of Bartender at the Leaky Cauldron:

Thank you for your interest in this position. Because of management miscommunications, we will be unable to complete your interview at the specified time. If you are still interested—and we sincerely hope you are—your new interview time will be on Saturday, 27 April, 2002, at promptly 8:30am. We apologize for any confusion and inconvenience this may have caused you.

Sincerely,
Rupert Coss
New Management of the Leaky Cauldron

The first thing that struck me was how similar Rupert's handwriting was to Tom's. The second? He was trying to steal the Leaky Cauldron in the most under-handed way possible: by stealing my employees. He would most certainly pay for this.