Envy Engenders Spite

“Tom, m’boy!” Headmaster Dippet beamed when Lord Voldemort walked back into the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a little over a month after having graduated.

“Sit down, sit down! What brings you back — and so soon? Couldn’t stay away from your alma mater?”

Tom plastered a charming smile on his face as he took a seat in front of Dippet’s desk. “You know me so well, Headmaster.” 

“Well, seven years, Tom, seven years,” chuckled Dippet. “Seven years can be a long time.”

“Or not long enough,” said Tom, adding a bit of humor to his voice before growing serious. “I’ve returned, Professor — if you’ll still allow me to refer to you as that — to inquire after a position here at Hogwarts. Professor Merrythought retired last month. . . .”

Dippet’s jovial expression faltered. “Ah, Tom, Tom, you’re young! What — only eighteen?”

“Yes, sir,” he stiffly replied, but already knowing his venture had failed. He could detect Dumbledore in Dippet’s eyes — thwarting his plans. And that annoyed him more than being denied by Dippet. “But I should hope humble skill and a love of Hogwarts might make up for my youth.”

“Indeed they might, but you surely don’t want to return so soon? Travel! Sightsee! Explore the wonders of the world! There’s more to magic than Hogwarts, Tom.” 

Lord Voldemort had no intention of informing Armando Dippet that he had spent the prior month traveling and hated every second of it save the very last bit where he actually found what he was looking for. The rest of it had been a boring, dull, vexing nightmare because he didn’t have Natalie with him. 

Of course, Dippet’s response to his request for a position at Hogwarts wasn’t entirely unexpected.

“Yes, Professor, I suppose there is,” he said, mind churning as different plans began filling the abyss of his mind. Hogwarts could wait for him.

“Take some time,” suggested Dippet with a fond smile. “Learn more. See more. Know more. And then I’m sure in the future Hogwarts would love to have you back.”

Lord Voldemort mechanically smiled. “I hope so, Professor.”

Natalie Malfoy stepped off the elevator onto the floor of the Department of Magical Sports and Games and found herself staring at the face of someone she hadn’t seen in years. Except now it was older, experienced, and lined with white scars.

Her jaw dropped. “Crockett?”

Winky Crockett’s grin stretched his face, distorting the scars he did not have when she joined the Slytherin team under him. “Hey, Natalie.”

“What — what’re you doing here?” she asked, flabbergasted at seeing her old Hogwarts team captain. 

“I’m why you’re here, actually,” he said, beckoning her to follow him down the hall.

“Jack Lament asked if I wanted to be your agent for the World Cup,” he explained as she fell into step beside him. “My own playing days are over, after. . . .” he vaguely gestured at his scarred face.

“Er, what, um. . . happened?” she hesitantly asked.

“The ‘42 Cup run. The Semi-Final match was in Germany,” he said with a wince. “Height of the war. I was playing for Ireland back then — us against the bloody Germans. There was a brawl on the field — let’s just say things got, er. . . rough. Germany ended up winning. I still regret that.”

“Bloody hell,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “I hope we don’t play Germany.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t. They’re not even fielding a team.”

“Good.”

He stopped just outside Jack Lament’s office. A blue tornado with broomsticks inside it spun on the Tutshill Tornadoes’ poster pasted to the door. Right next to it was the just-released English national team poster. Natalie locked eyes with her grinning self on the poster and watched herself snatch a tiny Snitch flying along the rippling English flag background.

Crockett cleared his throat, reverting her attention back to him. “Before we go in — can I get an answer?”

“Uh, to what?” she stared at him, seeing Eugene Dent scowl at her from the corner of her eye on the poster.

“Me being your agent.”

“Oh! Bloody hell, of course, Crockett,” Natalie laughed. “Wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Brilliant,” he grinned and opened the door, ushering her inside. Jack Lament sat behind his desk, stress lining his face. His brother, Matt Lament, the Head of the Department, and Seymour Mulciber, Matt’s assistant, were also present, each with a stack of paperwork.

“Natalie!” Jack Lament jumped to his feet upon her arrival, knocking a pile of parchment to the floor. “Oh, bloody hell-”

“I got it,” said Mulciber and he flicked his wand. The parchment stacked itself neatly back on the desk.

“Thanks, Seymour,” said Jack and he gestured Natalie and Crockett into the office. “Come in! Come in! What’s the decision?”

“She said yes!” Crockett announced as if it was a marriage proposal, making Natalie laugh once again.

“Brilliant,” Matt Lament looked delighted. He had the same red hair and freckles as the rest of the Lament family. “Seymour, give her the pile.”

With a grin, Mulciber dumped a stack of parchment into Natalie’s arms. It was so heavy, she nearly staggered over.

“What is this?” she asked, squinting down at the top sheet of parchment. 

“The companies, businesses, and departments that want to sponsor you,” said Mulciber. “You’re bloody popular.”

“Hell,” she exclaimed, turning and dropping the pile into Crockett’s arms instead. “Here you go, agent.”

Crockett just laughed and immediately started shuffling through the stack of parchment. “I can’t complain. This is my job.”

“Then you’re on the clock, get going,” she joked, making all present laugh.

“Bloody hell, even Borgin and Burke’s wants to sponsor you?” said Crockett in awe, lifting up a fancily-written sheet of parchment from the pile.

“Really?” she asked with interest. 

He waved the parchment at her. “Yeah.”

“Domitia Malfoy is the niece of the original Burke who founded the store,” Jack Lament pitched in with a nod at Natalie. “He still runs the place. Makes sense he’d sponsor.”

“Can I see that one, Crockett?” asked Natalie and he handed the parchment over. She skimmed it. “I think I’ll look into this myself.”

The bell rang as the door to Borgin and Burke’s flew open. Caractactus Burke Senior glanced up and blinked. An eye-catching blonde witch strolled into the shop, followed closely by a tall, handsome young wizard. Not exactly the usual demographic of his customers.

He squinted. The blonde looked familiar. With her striking facial features and expensive-looking robes, she was definitely a pureblood.

“Hi. . . Uncle,” the witch greeted him with a smile as she approached the counter. Gazing at him with luminous gray eyes, Burke found he couldn’t look away.

He squinted harder. “Theia?”

“Er. . . her daughter,” she inclined her head and extended a hand. “I’m Natalie.”

Burke reached a shaky hand out and allowed her to envelope his wrinkled palm. She shook his hand with vigor, a firm grip — and Caractacus Burke was floating. A warm, buttery feeling enveloped him. Massaging his stiff knees and easing his swollen knuckles. He found himself smiling for the first time in years. He had never met his great-great niece, but she was a lovely witch and he was thrilled to have her in his shop.

“This is Tom,” she unleashed his hand and gestured to the handsome young wizard behind her. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Caractacus Burke reluctantly shook the handsome wizard’s hand. His handshake wasn’t as delightful as Natalie’s — in fact, rather than feeling like he sat next to a soothing fire, Burke felt a shiver run down his spine.

“A pureblood, I hope,” he muttered with a sharp look at his great-great niece. Burke dropped his hand to the counter between them and had the bizarre hope Natalie would pick it up again. 

As if she read his mind, she placed a hand over his gnarled one and gave it a fond little pat. “Only the best for the Malfoy family,” she giggled and produced a piece of parchment from within her tailored robes. She dropped it on the counter and Burke recognized his own handwriting. 

“Thought I’d come myself to go over the terms of this one,” she said, “seeing as we’re family and all.”

“Ah, of course,” this pleased Burke. “You find it agreeable?”

“Certainly. I’m thrilled to have my Uncle’s shop sponsor me in the Quidditch World Cup. Hopefully we’ll bring home the Cup for England. But. . . I was wondering if you could do me two little. . . additional favors?”

Burke’s good mood faltered — the customer always had an extra request, always tried to get the most out of him, always thought they had the high ground. But Natalie squeezed his hand and he found himself recalling that this was his blood relative. If anything — she had inherited the family aptitude for business.

“Depends on what they are,” he muttered, though already knew he would agree. Just sponsoring a pureblooded Quidditch player was anyone’s dream come true. Not to mention, she was his own blood relation. He couldn’t wait to brag about that. Her name was already nearly as known as Cassius Malfoy’s. Burke knew sales were bound to increase. Everyone would want to buy something from a shop whose owner was family with Natalie Malfoy.

“First,” she whipped a poster out of thin air with a flourish of her wand. “This is the official English national team poster. Can you hang it up in the store?”

Burke chuckled and reached under the counter. He produced a whole box of the exact same poster and gave her a wry smile. “I already ordered one hundred. Planned to sell them.”

Natalie smirked and Burke received the impression she knew he had the posters all along. This feeling vanished when she reached over and plucked a quill from behind the counter. 

“Then let me increase the value for you — if you grant my last request?”

A smirk on his face now, Burke nodded with the feeling her second request couldn’t be much more than the first. He felt he was getting the better end of these favors anyway.

“Tom here is looking for a job,” she tilted her head at the tall wizard as she began to autograph the posters. “And I know you’re looking for an assistant. I think you’ll find he can be very, ah. . . useful. . . in the sort of work you’re into.”

Briefly wondering how she knew he was looking for an assistant, Burke studied the handsome wizard with dark eyes, who gave him a charming smile under the intense scrutiny. 

“The boyfriend, you say?” he muttered to his niece. He knew he was going to agree but didn’t want to seem too eager about it. Burke was gambling that hiring his niece’s boyfriend meant she would visit the shop more. He wished she would — he had never felt this much relief from his aged, achy joints. Even the wall of leering masks seemed to be grinning with her. Burke had enough experience with magical objects to understand that something about Domitia’s granddaughter was very magical indeed. 

“Yeah,” laughed Natalie and she playfully flicked at his hand. Burke trembled as a bolt of what felt like fire crawled up his arm. “I need him so you can’t work him too hard.”

“Suppose he must be half-decent,” he grunted and nodded. “Alright then.”