Janice
Single mom, life coach; gotta write though
Being an auror should have been a respected position; it used to be the people who were fighting against dark magic; protecting the wizarding world; fighting crime. At least that was what it had been when Rose had gotten involved in it; but now she didn't know what to think of it. Rose could not think of the last actual assignment that she had been on; she was stuck in the land of busy work ever since Carther Avorie had been promoted to her direct superior. True, she had ignored the advice of her family; lie low and do the job. Instead she had stepped on too many toes trying to get the job she didn't realize was pre-planned from its announcement to be Carther's position. They were the same age; her scores were stronger; but it shouldn't have surprised anyone that he was being recognized and she wasn't. And now someone who was thoroughly enjoying making her life a living hell; was in a direct position to do so.
"This is for you," Rose jumped as Carther appeared from nowhere, dumping a new stack of paper work on her almost cleared desk. She didn't say anything at first; just stared open mouthed from the stack of reports to edit and finish; and the clock on the wall. "Finish them before you leave."
Rose turned her head to look up at him, he had that dangerous look in his eyes; the one where he was enjoying simple interactions more than he should have been. "You're kidding right?" Rose said, picking up the stack of paper and throwing it into the desk drawer, "I'm going home, it's already after six o'clock, I have things to do before curfew."
The man faked a pout; compromising by opening the drawer and returning the paper work too her desk. The ideal compromise for Carther; where he didn't yield for anything. For a moment he was quiet; then he rested his hand on her shoulder; grip causing her to wince. "I don't like that shirt on you," he pondered allowed after the deafening silence; always defaulting to distract from the matters at hand. His grip on her shoulder was unyielding, the smile on his face disastrous at best; "Get it finished Rose, I'll write you a damn pass; but I need this done." Her eyes flickered down to the papers in front of her, biting down on her teeth to keep from crying out at the pain; she finally nodded her head and just like that he let go, as if nothing had happened. "There we are," he spoke casually; "I've got a quick meeting, so just stick around; I'll bring your note after."
Rose refused to meet his gaze, reluctantly grabbing the first report and beginning to read through it. How did she end up here? It was one giant blur, impossible to trace backwards what defining moment had landed her here at the bottom of the pile, doing all of the foot work for another person who didn't deserve the job that she had.
"Oh I almost forgot," Carther added from the doorway, coming back to her desk, "Did you see the prophet darling?" An unhappy look had settled on Rose's face as she shut her mouth and shook her head, Carther set a rolled up copy on her desk, "It's a great read, I can't decide if page 3 or page 9 are my favourite though." He started laughing as he walked out of the office, not stopping until the door had slammed shut dividing the two of them.
Almost unwillingly Rose unrolled the newspaper, turning to the third page. At the top was a photo of smiling, laughing people, captioned "Proposed Identity Badge Program -- Majority Win." The group were wearing a mix of badges; hard to see the difference in black and white. White on black for muggle born, Silver on Blue for half bloods and Blue on White for purebloods. The whole proposal was supposedly designed to access safe areas; but it was a smoke screen for the visable divisions striking the wizardring world. Rose didn't agree with it at all; yet there she was second from the left, the photograph smiling and laughing with the rest of them, drinking champagne from a glass and proudly wearing her band on her arm. It wasn't the worst of it though; she wanted to vomit because the Rose Weasley in the daily prophet was giggling and laughing at a Carther Avorie, arm slung around her waist and whispering in her ear. "Traitor," she whispered to the picture of herself, fighting back tears and swallowing the lump in her throat; the camera failed to capture Mr. Avorie's words; though it may have been safe to call them commands, demanding a laugh and a smile of her, and the writers clearly missed the part where he was mixing a potion with her drink that seemed to brighten the down demeanor she often had when forced to accompany him. A skim read proved the worst, "Rose Weasley, daughter of missing Ron Weasley among many in support of the new program--" she guarded her heart from the pain of reading anymore, flicking over to the other page Carther had mentioned.
At first she couldn't find what it was; but there it was, a small clip discussing no new updates in the hunt for missing Ron Weasley and Harry Potter; and confirming what Rose already knew, that Hermione and Ginny were missing as well; though rumors stated they had elected to go into hiding; unlike their husbands who had simply disappeared. The last time Rose had talked to her mother they had simply screamed at each other; Rose tried to defend herself; that Carther and her superiors were blocking her from investigating on her end; but the argument fell on deaf ears. Rose took a deep breath, fighting down tears as picked up the prophet, throwing it across the room onto another empty desk. She was the only one there; everyone else was off hunting, and protecting, and she was there doing paperwork. She rubbed her palms into her eyes, fighting past the headache that was coming on; she didn't trust the water. Slow breaths, forced herself to calm down and return to the work at hand. Work was not the time to think of any of this, Carther would be back before she knew it, ready to gloat and looking for any weakness in her defenses. And though she was running out of resources Rose refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her like that.
"This is for you," Rose jumped as Carther appeared from nowhere, dumping a new stack of paper work on her almost cleared desk. She didn't say anything at first; just stared open mouthed from the stack of reports to edit and finish; and the clock on the wall. "Finish them before you leave."
Rose turned her head to look up at him, he had that dangerous look in his eyes; the one where he was enjoying simple interactions more than he should have been. "You're kidding right?" Rose said, picking up the stack of paper and throwing it into the desk drawer, "I'm going home, it's already after six o'clock, I have things to do before curfew."
The man faked a pout; compromising by opening the drawer and returning the paper work too her desk. The ideal compromise for Carther; where he didn't yield for anything. For a moment he was quiet; then he rested his hand on her shoulder; grip causing her to wince. "I don't like that shirt on you," he pondered allowed after the deafening silence; always defaulting to distract from the matters at hand. His grip on her shoulder was unyielding, the smile on his face disastrous at best; "Get it finished Rose, I'll write you a damn pass; but I need this done." Her eyes flickered down to the papers in front of her, biting down on her teeth to keep from crying out at the pain; she finally nodded her head and just like that he let go, as if nothing had happened. "There we are," he spoke casually; "I've got a quick meeting, so just stick around; I'll bring your note after."
Rose refused to meet his gaze, reluctantly grabbing the first report and beginning to read through it. How did she end up here? It was one giant blur, impossible to trace backwards what defining moment had landed her here at the bottom of the pile, doing all of the foot work for another person who didn't deserve the job that she had.
"Oh I almost forgot," Carther added from the doorway, coming back to her desk, "Did you see the prophet darling?" An unhappy look had settled on Rose's face as she shut her mouth and shook her head, Carther set a rolled up copy on her desk, "It's a great read, I can't decide if page 3 or page 9 are my favourite though." He started laughing as he walked out of the office, not stopping until the door had slammed shut dividing the two of them.
Almost unwillingly Rose unrolled the newspaper, turning to the third page. At the top was a photo of smiling, laughing people, captioned "Proposed Identity Badge Program -- Majority Win." The group were wearing a mix of badges; hard to see the difference in black and white. White on black for muggle born, Silver on Blue for half bloods and Blue on White for purebloods. The whole proposal was supposedly designed to access safe areas; but it was a smoke screen for the visable divisions striking the wizardring world. Rose didn't agree with it at all; yet there she was second from the left, the photograph smiling and laughing with the rest of them, drinking champagne from a glass and proudly wearing her band on her arm. It wasn't the worst of it though; she wanted to vomit because the Rose Weasley in the daily prophet was giggling and laughing at a Carther Avorie, arm slung around her waist and whispering in her ear. "Traitor," she whispered to the picture of herself, fighting back tears and swallowing the lump in her throat; the camera failed to capture Mr. Avorie's words; though it may have been safe to call them commands, demanding a laugh and a smile of her, and the writers clearly missed the part where he was mixing a potion with her drink that seemed to brighten the down demeanor she often had when forced to accompany him. A skim read proved the worst, "Rose Weasley, daughter of missing Ron Weasley among many in support of the new program--" she guarded her heart from the pain of reading anymore, flicking over to the other page Carther had mentioned.
At first she couldn't find what it was; but there it was, a small clip discussing no new updates in the hunt for missing Ron Weasley and Harry Potter; and confirming what Rose already knew, that Hermione and Ginny were missing as well; though rumors stated they had elected to go into hiding; unlike their husbands who had simply disappeared. The last time Rose had talked to her mother they had simply screamed at each other; Rose tried to defend herself; that Carther and her superiors were blocking her from investigating on her end; but the argument fell on deaf ears. Rose took a deep breath, fighting down tears as picked up the prophet, throwing it across the room onto another empty desk. She was the only one there; everyone else was off hunting, and protecting, and she was there doing paperwork. She rubbed her palms into her eyes, fighting past the headache that was coming on; she didn't trust the water. Slow breaths, forced herself to calm down and return to the work at hand. Work was not the time to think of any of this, Carther would be back before she knew it, ready to gloat and looking for any weakness in her defenses. And though she was running out of resources Rose refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her like that.
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