Dear Ms. Johnson,

I am delighted to offer you a permanent position at Magical Quaffles, Inc. I expect to see you tomorrow at 9 am sharp, at which time I will show you around all of Magical Quaffles, Inc.'s facilities. Work proper will begin the day after tomorrow, after you have become better familiarized with Magical Quaffles, Inc. In the mean time, I have attached a brief bit of reading for you to complete ("A Brief History of Magical Quaffles, Inc.", 647 pages) and an Insta-Scroll. Team Member Macdonald has the other of the two Insta-Scrolls, so you may pose Team Member Macdonald any practical questions you like by writing on your own Insta-Scroll.

Sincerely,

Mildred Schneggenburger

Head of Human Resources

Angelina grinned as she thoughtfully put down the letter. A new job. An actual job. Even though she had graduated from Hogwarts a few years ago, she had somehow managed to drift from temporary job to temporary job without ever securing a permanent job, and she felt a spark of excitement at the letter she now held in her hands. Promptly tossing the "brief" 647 page book into the rubbish bin, she carefully unrolled the Insta-Scroll. She had seen them before—George used them to communicate long-distance with Ron about what needed stocking in the store—but she had never actually used one herself.

Lightly dipping her quill into a nearby bottle of ink, she scribbled Hello onto the Insta-Scroll. The ink was promptly absorbed by the parchment, and gave no response. Angelina thought that that was awfully anti-climactic, before new words suddenly appeared on the parchment. The ink was bolder, as though the writer was using a thick-tipped quill, and Angelina thought it looked like a man's handwriting.

Hello there

Is this Team Member Macdonald? Angelina hastily scribbled and new ink appeared in response.

"Team Member"? Looks like Schneggenburger's gotten to you already. We'll have to disinfect you before we allow you in the office.

Angelina gave a small laugh before writing, Is Schneggenburger that bad?

Nah, Schneggenburger's fine. She's like an overenthusiastic puppy. Just hope she doesn't get any drool on you.

Grinning again, Angelina thoughtfully chewed the end of her quill, before continuing. Duly noted. So Schneggenburger said I could ask you any questions I wanted?

Go ahead.

It occurred to Angelina she actually wasn't sure if she had any questions. She had just been very eager to try the Insta-Scroll, and so she hastily scribbled down the first question that popped into her mind instead.

What's the office's stance on owls?

We Avada Kedavra them on sight. Angelina gave a horrified gasp, before the writing continued appearing. I'm kidding! Owls are fine, just make sure they don't leave droppings all over the office. Only on Badgley's desk.

Angelina snickered again; the bloke writing to her was beginning to remind her of George. Dare I ask who Badgley is?

Oh, no one much. Just proof of the statement that gingers have no soul.

Angelina started laughing uproariously before thinking of George again and hastily scribbling, Hey! My best friend is a ginger!

Oh, I'm sorry, appeared the stocky handwriting again. Better luck finding a best friend next time.

Angelina was close to tears from laughing at the irreverent sense of humor, and when she opened her eyes again she saw another sentence.

(And I do hope you know I'm kidding. I'm sure your best friend is a lovely person.)

I'm not sure "lovely" is the first word I would use to describe George.

Trouble in paradise?

No, he's great! There are just more…descriptive words to use to describe George. Like mischievous.

I see.

With a frown she re-read Macdonald's previous sentence. "Trouble in paradise?" He's not my boyfriend, Angelina hastily added. I'm not seeing anyone right now.

Ah, I see.

Wait, did that make it sound like she was hitting on Macdonald? Angelina pensively frowned, before she supposed she didn't really mind if it turned out she was flirting with him. He was clearly a pretty humorous bloke, after all. With a smile she began daydreaming about what he might look like. Tall, dark and handsome, perchance? What else can you tell me about the office? she finally wrote.

There's free coffee, but it's blacker than You-Know-Who's soul.

Angelina chuckled. Is that what the brand is called? "You-Know-Who's soul"?

No, but that would make a great name for a coffee brand. We should quit Magical Quaffles, Inc. and go into coffee brewing instead. We'll become millionaires, I'm sure.

Definitely! You do all the work and I'll take all the money. Best business partners ever!

No, no, you see, I was thinking it should be like this: you do all the work, I make all the money. Now, doesn't that sound better?

Hmm, oddly, enough, no. And seeing as I'm the one who invented the brand name…

Ah, touché. I suppose I'll have to resign myself to being half-a-millionaire, then.

Anything else I should know about the office coffee? What to do if it starts trying to cast Avada Kedavra?

We've lost more interns that way…But, no, more seriously you have to bring your own mug with you to the office, and then keep it on your desk.

Where else would I keep it? Badgley's desk, with all of the owl droppings?

Technically you could keep it by the coffee pot, but I wouldn't recommend it. Any mugs kept there have a tendency to disappear. I suspect three-inch tall Martians.

Angelina's hand was shaking from laughter as she wrote her next sentence. I've heard of rat infestations, and cockroach infestations, but never Martian infestations.

Here at Magical Quaffles, Inc. we have classier infestations. That would make a good company, slogan, don't you think? "Magical Quaffles, Inc.: Classier than Cockroaches"

Angelina was nearly convulsing with laughter as she scribbled her next few sentences. I tell you, we're millionaires in the making. I think that should be the slogan for our coffee company, though. Just picture it: "You-Know-Who's Soul: Classier than Cockroaches"

Touché again. That's why you're the millionaire and I'm the half-a-millionaire.

So, Martians?

Well, I've told Badgley before that I suspect him of taking the coffee mugs, but he adamantly denies it every time, so that only leaves Martians.

I agree, that's the only logical explanation.

Well, this has been fun, but I should probably try to get some work done today. Ciao!

Angelina rolled up the Insta-Scroll with a smile on her face. That had been fun, and her mental image of Macdonald swam to mind again: tall, with dark hair, a winning grin and a raucous laugh. Her smile widened even further and she reached her decision: tomorrow, after work, she would ask Macdonald out on a date. It was decided.

It was nearing the end of Angelina's first day at work, and Schneggenburger had showed Angelina around every room in the Magical Quaffles, Inc.'s company building except for the room she was actually going to be working in. When they finally reached said room, Angelina was itching to be done with work for the day, and only barely noticed the introductions to her other officemates.

"And I'll finish by introducing you to Team Member Macdonald, the person who answered your questions through Insta-Scroll," Schneggenburger smiled, and led Angelina towards yet another desk. "Angelina Johnson, this is Mary Macdonald."

Angelina's jaw nearly dropped. The woman sitting behind the desk looked to be in her forties, with a chubby frame, bleached blonde hair and too much lipstick on. This was Macdonald?

"It's so nice to meet you in person," Macdonald cheerfully greeted Angelina, before winking. "Have you tried any of You-Know-Who's soul yet?"

"I—no, not yet. It's uh—nice to meet you, too," Angelina faltered, still trying to erase her mental image of Macdonald as a young, handsome man.

"And how was your first day at work?" Macdonald continued with a smile.

"Oh, you know," Angelina stalled, looking at Macdonald again and suddenly remembering her earlier plan to ask Macdonald on a date. But, Merlin, Macdonald was old enough to be her mother and, besides, Angelina didn't date women. If only…Angelina chuckled as she said her next sentence, "Although currently I'm wishing I was a forty-year old man."

…

A/N: Written for lowi's Cross-Gen competition over at the HPFC, where I was given the pairing Angelina/Mary. Constructive criticism always appreciated; I'm particularly curious if the ending was a surprise, or whether everyone knows Mary's last name already.