124. Mrs Smith Takes an Apprentice
The day Draco returned to the library, Mrs Shaw was nowhere to be seen. Miss Thompson, who was in charge, assigned him his tasks without ado and went back to scrutinising the spreadsheet displayed on her computer screen.
While he transferred books from the public part of the library to the storage rooms, Draco thought back to his all too short chat with Jory. He wished he'd had the chance to ask for advice on how to deal with a certain resentful supervisor. Maybe he had another day of respite, but he would have to face her eventually.
He was about to fetch the key to map room when Mrs Smith intercepted him.
"Good morning, Mrs Smith," he said reverentially.
Unlike Mrs Shaw, Mrs Smith hadn't changed her attitude towards him. She was as friendly as ever, and he wanted her to stay that way.
"Welcome back, Mr Malfoy," the elderly woman said and smiled. "Did you enjoy your holidays?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you."
"That's lovely," she replied, but her smile vanished as she spoke. "Mr Malfoy, I was wondering whether I could have a word with you?"
Draco, instantly apprehensive of new trouble brewing, gave a curt nod.
"Mr Malfoy, I'm afraid the question is rather personal, but if you don't mind I'd like to ask whether you have ever been thinking about making library work your actual career."
"Well, I may have thought about it..." He trailed off, unable to decide what kind of response would displease her least.
"I know this comes out of the blue. Actually, that's why I'm asking now while there is still time for you to contemplate the idea. Emma has a meeting scheduled for three in the afternoon, and I'd like to hear your opinion in advance."
"My opinion about what exactly, Mrs Smith?"
"Well, I mentioned you as a potential stand-in. I know, I should have talked to you first, but you were on holiday when the question came up. Emma really jumped at the suggestion. I'm afraid she assumed you and I had an agreement already. She's been extremely stressed lately; I didn't have the heart to dissuade her." She paused for a sigh. "Helen's been even worse. Last week, she yelled at poor Sally for nothing. The strain is driving us crazy, all of us. We're permanently understaffed, but all we'll get – well, probably get – for the rest of the year are two or three more unskilled part-time workers. That's not going to help. We'd need at least a couple of people who can do a bit more than shelving books and sending out reminders. So, the debate came up about who among the current auxiliary personnel might be up to the challenge, and I recommended you."
She looked at him as if expecting a reply, but he was lost for words.
"I'm confident you can pull it off," she continued. "I've seen you work with accuracy, care, and patience. You don't rush things just to be out of here five minutes early. You don't mind working on weekends. You are quick on the uptake. The speed with which you memorise facts borders on magic, and last but not least, you read a great deal yourself. All these are qualities a good librarian should have."
"Thank you," Draco managed to say.
"My pleasure," Mrs Smith said. "Now, well, I would teach you the skills necessary for a number of specified tasks, for example working at the checkout. Emma says you'll be welcome to apply for a full apprenticeship later. She wants you to keep your options open by studying another subject at A-level first. She said something about you and your family experiencing difficulties when you were younger, but didn't elaborate. Well, I do think I know a bit about what happened. I remember the picture showing that horrible fire."
She paused again, looking at Draco questioningly.
He nodded firmly to encourage her to continue to believe whatever it was she thought she knew about his past.
"Don't worry, Mr Malfoy, I didn't say anything. Half of the staff was there, and such a tragedy isn't something one should gossip about," she said earnestly. "But back to my offer. If you agree, you'll have a good deal of knowledge, skill, and work experience should you decide on becoming a library assistant one day. So, are you interested?"
"Yes," he said with barely a second of hesitation. "Yes, I am."
"Good, that takes a big weight off my mind."
Although claiming to feel relieved, Mrs Smith looked uneasy.
"Is there something else?" Draco asked tentatively.
"There is a catch, of course," she sighed. "There always is. You'll have to work for the same wage as you do now. You see the purported lack of money is the very reason of our current predicament. I say 'purported' because there seems to be no shortage when it comes to installing surveillance cameras all over the campus. Are you still interested even though you won't earn a single penny more?"
"Yes, I am," he said again. If nothing else, the arrangement would make it easier for him to steer clear of Mrs Shaw.
"Good," Mrs Smith said again, and this time much more cheerfully. "Be at Emma's office at three o'clock."
...
He arrived at the office at five minutes to three. Mrs Smith was already there, sitting in the visitor's chair. To his dismay, Mrs Shaw was there as well. She didn't look particularly thrilled.
Mrs Highbury ushered him in and got straight to the point.
"Mrs Smith has a proposition for you, Mrs Malfoy," she said. "Please, Annie, go ahead."
The elderly lady stood with an air of dignity before she repeated everything she had told Draco earlier, excluding only her remark about the Fiendfyre sketch.
"Well, Mr Malfoy, what do you think?" Mrs Highbury asked as Mrs Smith sat back down.
"I agree," he said.
"That's certainly short and sweet," Mrs Highbury said, sounding slightly surprised.
Being under the impression that she wished to hear a more formal statement, he said, "I would like to thank you for giving me this opportunity and for the trust you bestow on me."
The not quite ladylike snort coming from Mrs Shaw made him feel pretty silly even as he spoke. He closed his mouth firmly and avoided looking at her.
"Any objections, Helen?" Mrs Highbury asked, a note of amusement in her voice.
"Not in general," Mrs Shaw replied. "But, Mr Malfoy, could you find it in you to notify me in time of any wish for time off?"
"I will take care to notify you, ma'am," Draco said. "I apologise for having caused you inconvenience."
Mrs Shaw was about to retort, but Mrs Highbury beat her to it.
"Helen is right. She needs to be informed as soon as possible whenever you are unable to work, no matter what the reason is – exams, sickness, or anything else. We don't have the resources to make ad hoc changes," she said. "By speaking of exams, may I ask which subject you've chosen to study next?"
"I decided on studying French at A-level," he said, knowing she would approve.
"Good choice," Mrs Smith butted in. "Fluency in a foreign language is always a useful skill, even more so when working in the library of a university."
"Thank you, Mrs Smith," Draco said.
"Yes, good choice," Mrs Highbury said briskly. "With the proficiency you already have, studying French shouldn't strain your time budget too much. I would like to entreat you to increase the number of your working hours to forty per week for the time being. I hope I'll be able to hire new staff from January next year. You could go back to working thirty hours or less in this case. It would allow you to focus more on your studies. Perhaps you'll consider sitting one of the subsidiary subjects you didn't manage this year."
Draco agreed to this, too. To get back at least a slice of the peace and quiet he'd enjoyed until a few weeks ago, he would give them what they wanted.
With the main part of the meeting over, Mrs Smith and Mrs Shaw left. Mrs Highbury modified Draco's work contract and had him sign the new version.
When he stepped outside the office, Mrs Shaw was hovering a few feet away from the glass cubicle. She promptly closed in on him and said, "Annie is a model librarian. Being taught by her is an honour. I hope you are aware of that, Mr Malfoy."
"Yes, ma'am. I promise to do my best."
"I'll hold you to that promise," she said sternly. "And stop calling me ma'am."
"Yes, ma'am. I mean, yes, Mrs Shaw."
She shook her head in response – and grinned.
...
125. Adam and Mike
Now being authorised to teach Draco, Mrs Smith's eagerness knew no bounds. She went as far as to lend him her own books with instructions about which chapters to read. She quizzed him about them the following morning. She always made sure he both grasped the basic concepts and understood the details. In a very short time, he learned more about running a library and, as a side effect, about the non-wizarding world in general than he had ever thought possible. He was as busy as he had been when studying genetics.
Aside from teaching him, Mrs Smith's main task was to ensure that the students would find all required reading material on the shelves by the start of term. There was much to do because the university professors kept submitting reading lists throughout the summer. At first, Draco only watched. Then he assisted her, and Mid-August saw him for the first time process one of these lists without help. Mrs Smith checked the result, pronounced it a job well done, and handed him the next list.
...
The letter from the exam board arrived around the same time. He had passed, even though having a C in Mathematics wasn't much to brag about.
The twins moved out a couple of weeks later. Mrs Bates seemed truly relived to see them go. She told Draco that she was going back to letting the rooms to university students.
On the day of the new students' arrival, Draco sat in the breakfast room and listened in to his landlady and a businessman discussing a mutual acquaintance, a hospital nurse who had affairs with two married men simultaneously. They agreed on the fact that Owen was nicer and better looking than cardiologist Alistair, but Mrs Bates also insisted that both men deserved contempt for cheating on their wives.
Draco, eating his breakfast in silence, felt inclined to agree. Cheating in marriage was contemptible. Then again, how tempted would he feel if he, after being forced into a marriage to someone like Bulstrode or Greengrass, met one day a woman he really liked?
He shoved the thought aside because the conversation also reminded him of a question he had been meaning to ask for some time. It seemed a good moment to make his enquiry since the businessman was about to leave.
Draco stepped up to Mrs Bates and asked, "Would you mind me asking a question? I've been wondering whether you happen to know where I can find a geepee in the neighbourhood?"
"Are you ill, dear?" she asked back, giving him a worried look.
"I am well," he assured her quickly. "Thank you for asking. I wanted to know just in case."
"Glad to hear it. Well then, let's see. There's one Dr Pembroke at North Gate Road. He'd be the nearest general practitioner."
Of course, GP was simply an abbreviation! How dense he was at times! A Dr Pembroke was even listed in the leaflet the nurse at Southside County Hospital had given him.
"I myself prefer Dr Simonis over at Mayflower Crescent," Mrs Bates went on. "It's a little farther away, but I feel more comfortable with her. She's-"
She was interrupted by the sudden return of the businessman, who brought with him a rather large group of people. Two of the newcomers looked young enough to be teenagers.
Ignoring the boys, Mrs Bates beamed at the older men dressed in smart suits. She launched into a barrage amounting to nothing more than that she would be with them in a minute. While talking, she seized Draco's arm and shoved a bunch of keys into his hand before he could pull back.
"Would you do me a favour, Mr Malfoy?" she whispered urgently, turning to him briefly. "The youngsters are your new flat mates, Michael Hall and Adam Singleton. Would you show them upstairs, please?"
Then, much louder, she announced, "Mr Singleton, Mr Hall, this is Mr Malfoy. He'll show you to your rooms. We'll do the paperwork later."
Giving neither party a chance to respond, she hurried over to the businessmen to whom she apologised effusively for the delay.
Hall and Singleton – Mrs Bates hadn't made it clear who was who – stood there and gaped.
"Follow me," Draco ordered shortly.
Pondering how to acquit himself of the unexpected task, he led the way in silence.
Hall and Singleton, struggling with their bulky luggage, plodded behind him and made no attempt at conversation.
He ushered them into the converted attic and handed each one a set of three keys – for their respective rooms, the front door, and the laundry baskets in the hall.
"Mrs Bates wants the front door looked at all times. Kindly keep that in mind," Draco said, finally finding his voice. As he deemed it a good idea to introduce the newcomers to Mrs Bates's house rules before they had opportunity to develop irritating habits, he opened the bathroom door and stated, "Here is the shared bathroom. Be sure to leave it always in a clean state. You will be well advised to mind the house rules. There are cautionary tales about people being thrown out for smoking within twenty-four hours of moving in."
"What exactly were they smoking?" one of the boys asked with a playful grin. "Pot?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Draco replied sternly.
The other boy cleared his throat, "Is pot what I think it is?"
"Yes, it's dope," said the first one, winking. "Cannabis indica."
Draco, who had never endeavoured to find out what the phrase smoking pot meant, was surprised to hear a potion ingredient mentioned. Cannabis indica, or Himalayan hemp, as the plant was also called, was an important component of many healing potions and went also into a fair number of other, far less savoury concoctions.
What uses did Cannabis indica have in the non-wizarding world? Burning the dried weed and inhaling the fumes – for this was what smokers essentially did – would certainly addle the brain in a most peculiar way.
"No problem, we won't use drugs," the first boy said, still grinning. "I'm Adam and this is Mike. We're both from Great Bodning, Somerset. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."
"Draco Malfoy."
Apprehension soared when he saw frowns form on both boys' faces. They couldn't have heard his name before, could they?
"Er... Drake?" Hall asked tentatively. "Drake O'Malfoy?"
Draco stared at him. The boy seemed still too young to shave and wore a t-shirt that proclaimed in red, three-inch letters, Proud To Be A Nerd.
Drake.
Draco swallowed. His response would define how they were going to act around each other for months to come. He didn't want any tension between them, but he wasn't interested in fraternising with these teenagers, either.
"Actually, it's Draco. Having constellation names is traditional in my mother's family," he said, trying for a casual tone. He had probably sounded like a picture-perfect Slytherin prefect for the past five minutes. It was scary how readily he lapsed into old behavioural patterns. "I suppose it will be acceptable if you call me Drake."
"All right, Drake. Pleased to meet you," Adam said.
"Likewise," Draco said. "I wish for us to get along with each other. I often work late, and I appreciate undisturbed sleep. On the other hand, I'll be rarely here during daytime so you'll have the place to yourself."
"I think we'll get on just fine," Adam said. "But what about these house rules you mentioned? What else is prohibited besides drugs?"
"Smoking in general, muddy footprints, loud music, especially after ten in the ev-"
"No problem," Mike interjected. "I have earphones."
"Yeah, me too," Adam said. "Seems the landlady is very strict, is she?"
"Well, try to see things from her point of view," Draco said. "She is letting rooms to make a living. As far as I can tell it's the businessmen who are bringing in the money. They would stop coming if the whole house reeked of noxious fumes or if the jarring noise some people mistake for music kept them from sleeping half of the night."
"Point taken," Adam said.
"Yeah, all right. I'm not much into parties, anyway," Mike said with a shrug. "By the way, I'll be studying software design, and Adam is going into engineering. What are you studying, Drake?"
There was no point in pretending. They'd see him at the checkout counter soon enough. So, Draco said, "I'm not a student. I work in the library of the university."
"Oh, I see," Mike said, suddenly embarrassed. "Will it still be all right if we call you Drake?"
"It will," Draco said curtly. "However, I'm afraid I must ask to be excused now. I need to leave lest I be late for work. I'm sure Mrs Bates will explain everything in minute detail."
Adam and Mike nodded.
The timing was perfect. Mrs Bates could already be heard coming up the stairs.
...
126. Flowers for Mrs Smith
Draco routinely worked at the checkout on Saturday and Sunday evenings. The library wasn't much frequented at these times, and one of the senior staff members was always present. He was under strict orders to fetch them whenever something exceeded his level of competence. Although this happened rather often, his colleagues were nevertheless pleased with his performance. Despite having to help him, they found time to catch up on their other work.
Another of his tasks was to conduct tours for newly enrolled students, and his new flat mate Mike happened to be in one of the groups he had to take around. Draco was able to give satisfying answers to Mike's questions about the public computers in the library, and that made him more than little bit proud of himself. His remark about the effective data rate of the Internet connection even elicited a low whistle from the boy.
Mercifully, Mike abstained from calling him Drake in public. He addressed him politely as Mr Malfoy throughout the tour.
Mr Malfoy read the badge Draco wore on his new waistcoat. The name was followed by the words Service Staff in slightly smaller print.
The knitted waistcoat was part of the outfit Mrs Smith had suggested for him to wear in order to distinguish himself from the students. She had objected specifically to the pair of blue jeans he usually wore for the very opposite purpose of blending in with the crowd. He was to wear a pair of tailored trousers when on duty, a neat shirt and a waistcoat or jacket to which he could pin the badge. A tie, however, would be overdoing it she had declared. He didn't see why, but kept his mouth shut and followed her advice because he thought it best to act his role as convincingly as possible. For the same reason, he also strove to emulate Mrs Smith's demeanour when serving patrons.
...
Despite working full time, he chose a subsidiary subject in addition to French. After reading through several old exam papers and finding not a single question he couldn't answer straight off, he decided Latin would be a breeze, and indeed it was. He usually did his homework in a jiffy, and after the first few lessons he was certain to be more proficient in the language than the teacher was.
French went well, too. Grammar had never been a problem, but now he also mastered modern French vocabulary with relative ease. Terms like l'afficheur à cristaux liquides or l'quatre roues motrices weren't a complete mystery anymore. The latter was a special quality in cars and the former the display of a pocket calculator. If he wished to learn how liquid-crystal displays or four-wheel drives worked, he could look them up.
He wasn't limited to the Encyclopaedia Britannica anymore. Thanks to Mrs Smith he now knew how to use the Internet as a source of information. Although she focussed chiefly on work-related matters like contacting other libraries or searching the catalogues of publishing houses for new publications and reprints, she sometimes pointed him to sites that offered a broader range of knowledge. There was, for instance, an Internet service that had been established the previous year and featured now educational articles on some twenty thousand topics, including four-wheel drives. The most valuable discovery apart from the useful online encyclopaedia was a government-maintained site that allowed access to exam papers from several years back.
All in all, he was pleasantly surprised by his progress in the field of computer work. He still made mistakes, but cases of spontaneous software shutdowns had become a rare exception.
He knew he had to thank Mrs Smith for his newfound confidence with computer use. Annie Smith was the best teacher he'd ever met. She wouldn't tire to explain the same matter over and over again – using different words, highlighting other aspects, or approaching the topic in a different way. She pointed out similarities to him or directed his attention to subtle differences he might have overlooked. She always made sure he truly understood a concept by having him explain it with his own words. She never interrupted him but waited until he had finished before she corrected errors or added more facts. Then, she let him explain the same thing again. Patiently, she always allowed him the time he needed to rehearse procedures that were to be carried out with a computer until he had them down pat.
Sadly, she would retire soon. Mrs Kentridge was already collecting money for a leaving present among the colleagues.
...
On a morning in mid-December, Mrs Smith brought two trays of home-baked cake with her.
Everybody gathered in the staff area at ten minutes to eight. Since only a handful of patrons were in the library this early even the checkout was closed for a short time. Mrs Highbury made a speech, lauding Mrs Smith and her more than forty years of excellent work. Then, while everyone was clapping their hands and cheering, Mrs Smith was presented with a copy of a popular book signed by its author, a silky scarf, and a huge bouquet of yellow and rubiginose chrysanthemums.
The cake was quickly finished, and the little leaving do came to its end. One by one, the colleagues hugged Annie Smith. They advised her to enjoy her retirement and to do all the things she had never been able to make time for. There was laughter and, simultaneously, nostalgia. Mrs Kentridge became emotional enough to break into tears.
Draco stood there in the merry bustle, feeling very much like the outsider he was.
Eventually, it was his turn to bid Mrs Smith good-bye. He bowed respectfully and said, "You were an excellent teacher, Mrs Smith. I appreciate having been taught by you."
She smiled at him in response. While the area around them rapidly cleared out as everybody hurried back to work, she asked, "Mr Malfoy, would you mind helping me pack my belongings?"
He helped; it didn't feel wrong. He even carried her stuff outside to her car. Only now, upon parting, he learned that Mrs Smith lived in a village some twenty miles away.
"Well, Mr Malfoy, have you decided yet whether you want to pursue a library career?" she asked when everything was safely stored in the trunk.
"So far, I've seen nothing to deter me," he answered guardedly.
"If you want to continue, you should talk to Emma after your exams. I know she doesn't have the time to teach you herself, and Helen will probably not have the patience, but Emma will find somebody who does have both. I do believe you'll make a fine librarian one day."
"Thank you, Mrs Smith," Draco said. "I wish you a pleasant time of retirement."
They shook hands, and then the woman got into the car. Almost instantly, the combustion engine that powered it woke up with a roar. Rolling slowly at first, the car gathered speed towards the end of the car park.
Draco watched the little blue vehicle until the traffic swallowed it.
...
Mrs Shaw surprised Draco by not changing the rota immediately. He continued working the same hours well into January. The only variation was the physical inventory that Mrs Highbury ordered to be conducted in the time between Yule and New Year. It was a clever move on her part, allowing at least half of the staff to stay at home at any given time because most parts of the library were closed to the public.
Three new, qualified workers joined the staff at the beginning of the spring term. They soon became familiar with their duties, thus making Draco's services redundant. At the end of January, Mrs Highbury suggested Draco should reduce his working hours to twenty per week so he would be able to spend time on revising Economy and Accounting as well as Astronomy. She reminded him for the umpteenth time that computer skills were necessary for many career choices, and said that she would certainly expect a GCSE grade in ICT from anyone who wanted to become a fully-fledged library assistant in her library.
...
Doing laps in the snow-sprinkled park, Draco reminisced about the past eight months. The steady routine of working and learning combined with the occasional hour of jogging had warded off the bad memories. They were still lurking, though, always ready to crawl back from the shadows.
The pressing question was how to stall their next attack. Neither French nor Latin posed much of a challenge, nor did revising last year's subjects. Should he make Mrs Highbury happy and give ICT a second try? Strengthening his boss' good opinion of him was certainly an incentive, but the goal he set himself had to be attainable. Otherwise he'd soon become frustrated and, therefore, run an even higher risk to lose his grip again.
So, did he dare tackle Information and Communication Technology? Encouraged by the way computer work had gone mostly well even after Mrs Smith had left, he resolved that, yes, he did.
...
Training sessions for ICT were about to start at the beginning of February. So, Draco made haste to negotiate with Mrs Shaw a schedule that allowed him to attend them.
He went to the first one with confidence, but disillusionment came pretty quickly. The spreadsheet went haywire fifteen minutes into the session. The computer shut down a couple of minutes later, and no matter how often Draco restarted the system software, the infuriating cycle kept repeating itself.
...
To be continued
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Author's note:
Thanks to Imo97 for beta reading this chapter.