The Assistant

I got a letter from Hogwarts. When my mother called me from the kitchen that an owl got something for me I almost broke my neck running down the stairs to get that damn letter.

I ran to the window, grabbed the piece of paper from the post owl, threw some money at it and closed the window with so much strength I must have startled the poor thing because it flew away screeching at me. I couldn’t find a paper knife to open the paper so I just broke it with my fingernails, not able to contain the anxiety that was coursing through my body.

Few weeks later, I read in a newspaper that Hogwarts was looking for an intern that studied Herbology. It felt like a miracle.

I’ve been studying that field in France for some time, paying an old professor who retired from Beauxbatons to teach and tutor me, but after my studies ended and I had to go back Home, I found myself not able to get a job other than mixing herbs at the pharmacy at the Diagonal Alley, which was, well, crap. I was trying to convince my mother that it’s ridiculous for me to mix herbs for a job given my education, that it was a waste of my talent.

But at the end of a day, I accepted it out of necessity (we were broke) and here I was, working the most boring job to ever exist, munching herbs and cutting frog legs eight hours a day, seven days a week in a cramped storage room in the back of the shop. I felt like I was frying my brain in that place. And the salary was bad to say the least.

It’s not surprising that I was waiting everyday for the reply from Hogwarts to my letter I sent some time ago. Every time the post came, I would search for that red wax with the school’s herb on it, with no success until that day.

I ripped the letter immediately and stretched the paper, not even reading it entirely, just looked at the bottom, knowing the answer is always at the end. When I read the words I stopped breathing for a second, my eyes going round with disbelief, before yelling for my mom, who went to the garden, from the top of my lungs.

My internship was accepted.

~*~

I was told to be at Hogwarts a week before the school year was about to begin so I could accommodate a little before the serious work starts. I bought some new clothes with what little money I had from my previous work at the pharmacy and some necessary stationeries. I was told I’m gonna get a small stuff house next to the greenhouse. In short - I could bring whatever the heck I wanted. Which was good, because I brought an excessive amount of books with me on top of some little trinkets I grew used to having around.

When I was packing my bags, my mother sighed and told me I shouldn’t bring so much stuff with me. For her it was stupid to carry all those unnecessary things with me to Hogwarts where I was just supposed to work, not really live. She thought it’s useless to get out of my way just to bring some rubbish to a place that wasn’t and would never be my true home. If I was moving to my own apartment then it would make sense but as things were, I was just being ridiculous.

I didn’t agree with her and just packed as much as I wanted. I needed this stuff to feel a sense of comfort. Especially my little minerals I would collect from various local markets selling muggles “pagan” accessories.

The buyers in those places were mostly women in weird boho clothes and fingers full of rings that clicked together with their every move. Next to them men who wore dreadlocks even though they were white and their scalps were screaming for mercy.

I admired that muggle need for some magic where there was none, with those weirdly dressed people who would buy and then burn dried sage that had no real magical value in the wizarding world but for them it was enough to feel a little better. To feel like there was something more than their nine to five office jobs, old Honda Civics and houses they inherited after grandparents where wardrobes still smelled of naphthalene. It was adorable in a sense.

And so I packed all my minerals, little figures of silly cats, hand painted jewelry boxes and a vintage rug that was probably made as a bathroom rug but I decided it was too cute to put it on the dump floor next to the shower. All that stuff made me feel at home, like I wasn’t completely alone in a sense.

I arrived at the school. My bags and boxes were all sent a week prior and already placed in the stuff house I was supposed to occupy for the unknown period of time

When I was riding a train to Hogwarts I felt excited, a little anxious but overall thrilled to start working at the best school in the wizarding world. I thought about how should I dress for the opening ceremony, where I would sit at the Great Hall (Am I gonna sit at the teachers table or being an intern was not enough to get a place there?), what exactly was my work gonna be since I didn’t get any actual information on that from the school and, of course, will I get along with the rest of the staff, this time as an employee and not a student.

I got out of the train, walked through the dirt path that was still wet from yesterday's rain and finally stood on the Hogwarts meadows with a full view of the castle. My leather mary-janes covered in mud and my socks slightly damp.

It was then where it hit me.

I couldn’t point a finger if it was some strange smell in the air, the view of the castle or the stress taking over me but suddenly I felt small. So incredibly small that I thought if anyone would see me in that exact moment, I would just vanish and mix with the mist that stood still in the air like a big cloud.

The fact was, I hated school. Not studying, or the classes. But the overall experience that always summarized to feeling out of place. Never enough, never really belonging or able to connect with my peers. As a student I felt like an alien most of the time. There was something inherently wrong within me, whether it was my appearance or my personality or the way I talked, that never allowed me to truly feel like an average teenage girl.

I wasn’t really bullied, though there were some remarks thrown at me but I guess that's just the reality of being a kid. I wasn’t scrutinized or openly laughed at. But I was never welcomed.

I didn’t really have casual friends. I always had one person at a time who I would stick to and if they got bored of me I would just switch them for another girl that was willing to hang out with me. I couldn’t really navigate having more friends than one at once. I never really had a pack of friends or a romantic moment with anyone since no one was interested.

Even though I liked a few boys I would always keep it to myself. As if admitting it to anyone would be met with side glances and raised eyebrows. I was considered too quiet, too ugly and too awkward to be able to openly express that, and so, I didn't, resulting in me never having a boyfriend or even having a first kiss, even though I was twenty one now.

All of those memories made me feel uneasy about going back to that place, although that’s what I wanted. I wanted to have this internship. Get some experience that wasn’t preparing basic ingredients inside the backroom of that awful pharmacy that stank of old leather shoes and rotten herbs.

I sighed, biting my lip to get rid of that awful feeling and started walking towards the castle. I couldn't go back now. My mother would’ve killed me if I did and Dumbledore was already waiting for me in his office. I wanted to turn on my heel and go back home but that would mean I failed, that everyone was right and I would end up in a pharmacy after pursuing my Herbology education. And that would kill me inside, so I just kept walking.

~*~

Seeing Dumbledore in person after years in such a one-on-one setting was strange. I’ve never really talked to him as a student, since he rarely got involved with the students in a way other teachers did. He was a headmaster after all, he had bigger problems to deal with than some 11 year olds’ mischief.

He sat at his desk, looking at me through his wired glasses with a weird mix of kindness, sympathy and watchfulness that kept me on the edge of my seat. I felt as if he was trying to look right inside my soul.

He spoke very little, congratulated me on getting the internship, gave me the keys to my little house which McGonagall left him before, said I’m gonna be working mostly with Mrs Sprout and sometimes help in the potions classroom, since my main job was to be preparing plants, ingredients and just taking care of the greenhouse and Hogwarts storage rooms used for potions classes. I was pleased with how things turned. It was definitely better than my previous job. And it was a paid internship. The money wasn’t anything special but just enough to make me smile a little when I heard the number.

He quickly finished the meeting, saying he has some important matters to attend to at the Ministry and shook my hand.

Before leaving I stopped and turned around to ask the last question.

“When should I expect professor Slughorn to show me the storage rooms?”

Dumbledor looked at me with playful sparkles in his eyes and chuckled slightly at my question.

“Miss Walton, I’m afraid you won’t meet professor Slughorn any time soon”

I furrowed my brows, confused.

“Is he sick?”, I asked.

“Retired.”, Dumbledor said, his eyes piercing me.

“Then who’s teaching potions?”

He didn’t answer straight away and just giggled instead, making me even more bewildered than I already was. “I’m sure you’re gonna find him in the dungeons. Just drink some nice tea before going there to introduce yourself.”

“Why would I need tea for that?”

“It’s better to relax before facing a storm, don’t you think?”