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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 69: Hiring A Witch
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 16:03:00 +0000 UTCChapter 69: Hiring A Witch
“I like it,” I said as I looked around.
Something I had been searching for ever since returning from the U.S. had been a new place to live. I genuinely loved my apartment. It was small but cozy, and I had a lot of pleasant memories there.
But I needed someplace bigger. Safer. More fitting for a man who owned several successful and growing businesses. My old home was good enough for a student, but not anymore.
Scouring the market had led me to a medium-sized apartment complex that had a few penthouses for sale. It was located in downtown London, but was cheaper than some other places I’d visited thanks to the recent economic recession that had swept the country following the collapse of the pound.
The penthouse I was looking at had two-floors with large south-facing windows that led out to a wide deck. Inside, hardwood panels provided a nice, open floor to walk on, with the walls having been freshly painted eggshell white. A skylight let in plenty of sun near the dining room, and the kitchen was nice and big, able to fit a lot more stuff than my old one.
There were four bedrooms, two on the first floor and two on the second, that could fit queen-sized beds and plenty of other furniture. They also had walk-in closets. Only one bedroom on each floor had master suite bathrooms attached, though, but there were two extra bathrooms that could be used by guests.
‘Convert one of the spare bedrooms to a workshop or study, keep another as a guest room, and use the living room as a place to put a TV, and this would make a lovely home,’ I thought to myself as I walked around, checking everything.
The complex itself wasn’t bad, either. It had no pool, but it did have a workout area on the fifth floor, and also included an attached multistory garage for cars. The building wasn’t close to any supermarkets, but was very near a bus stop and was a short walk to a train station, making it attractive to people who worked in the area.
However, the real reason I wanted this place was because of the Leyline running past it. Underneath the street right outside was one of the many Leylines that would eventually meet up with the other Leylines in London and form part of the Stone Henge Nexus further north. The power it was able to draw on was considerable, at least for this part of town. Most of the other Leylines were monopolized by the magical folk and their hidden communities, leaving only dregs to draw on for wards and such.
‘Still, even being able to access a single percent of the Leyline here would provide more magical power than what my recycling center uses,’ I thought to myself.
“I’ll take it,” I declared with a nod, and the woman who was showing me around smiled politely at my words.
“Wonderful! I’ll get you the lease to look over…”
“Ah, sorry, you misunderstood me,” I said apologetically. “I’d like to buy the entire apartment building.”
The woman blinked at me, then laughed. A polite titter, really, hidden behind a hand, as she clearly thought I was joking.
And to be fair, it was a bit crazy. Who’d buy an entire apartment complex like that? Somebody who cared about his safety and wanted the freedom to slap as many magical defenses onto it, that’s who!
Trying to put wards up would be a pain if I did not own the place, because some of the most powerful ones worked off of the concepts of ownership. There was also the fact that the Ministry of Magic hated it when witches and wizards put enchantments onto Muggle buildings unless they were owned by a magical.
‘It’s also a good investment,’ I thought to myself. ‘I can put more blatantly magical stuff inside and let the people who know about magic that work for me have a nice place to live as well. The more consolidated everything and everyone is, the safer we will be. And a little extra income never hurt anybody.’
I wouldn’t have a better chance to buy something like this any other time, too. With the economy down, and prices not being as absurd as they’d been in the future of my old world, there was no better time to get some prime pieces of real estate.
To prove I was both serious, and I had the means to do so, I made a show of pulling out my checkbook.
“I believe this would be a fair price, given current land values,” I said, scribbling out a number with nines zeroes. “Could you inform the owner I wish to talk?”
A secret third reason I had picked this complex was because I knew that the owner was not doing well financially. They’d be eager to sell to somebody they perceived as throwing around oodles of money.
Buying this place would admittedly blow through a hefty chunk of cash, but I’d recover the hit quickly. Not to mention the money I’d be spending wouldn’t be mine, but rather a business expense as the apartment complex would end up under the umbrella of my newest corporate entity, Avalon Industries.
Cauldron Remedies, Crucible Security Solutions, Citrine Services, and Waverider International Shipping were being folded together under the auspices of a new company in order to manage them financially. Taxes would go up as a result, but I would be able to get around some annoying zoning laws and restrictions that only applied to small, singular businesses. I’d also be able to reach out overseas more easily in order to buy up what I wanted in America come the bursting of the Dotcom Bubble.
The woman swallowed nervously as she stared wide-eyed at the check but nodded and hurried off to make a call. I smiled to myself. All according to plan.
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Two days after I bought the apartment complex – the owner had been very willing to sell once it was confirmed I did indeed have the funds – I was back in my office, doing the ever-present bane that was paperwork.
I had a lot of bureaucratic red tape to cut through. The formation of Avalon Industries and clumping my other businesses underneath it was going to be a lengthy process, likely lasting weeks, if not months.
‘But at least if I do this, Sir Briar won’t be able to exert as much control over what I own and produce,’ I bitterly thought to myself.
There was a knock at the door, distracting me from yet another file full of dense legalese and I looked up.
“Enter,” I said, and a woman with red hair and glasses opened the door.
“Everything alright, Miss Sparks?” I asked. Scarlett Sparks, one of the werewolves Remus had introduced me to and hired on as part of Crucible Security, adjusted her glasses before replying.
“Your first interview appointment for the day has arrived.”
“Earlier than I expected,” I hummed. “Punctuality is good, though. Send her in.”
“Yes, sir,” Scarlett replied and departed to do so.
Scarlett Sparks was a Squib. She’d believed she’d been a Muggle most of her life, up until she’d survived a werewolf bite. The curse had hit her badly, and she’d ended up running away from home to try and deal with it on her own. Remus had found and helped her out during this period, and knowing how much of a softy the Marauder was, I hadn’t been surprised to find she was also one of the first people he’d suggested I hire.
Fortunately, Scarlett turned out to be the perfect hire. She was tough and quick-witted, with the will to succeed no matter what life threw at her. Scarlett also had a head for numbers and was quite good at the bureaucratic side of running a security focused organization. These qualities had swiftly allowed her to become Remus’ second-in-command within Crucible Security Solutions.
The red-head took her job seriously, and had been keeping an eye out on all the people I personally interviewed ever since there had been an attempt to break into my office during a job interview by said interviewee.
I hadn’t found out anything important from that particular person. They claimed to have been hired by somebody to get a copy of my paperwork, but didn’t know who. As such I’d simply called the cops on him and had him arrested for breaking and entering.
‘Speaking of, I need to follow up on the information Kreacher dug out of the wannabe kidnappers,’ I thought to myself.
According to what the House Elf had extracted from the three unfortunately souls, they belonged to the fucking mafia! Locals, not Russians or anything like that, but just as bad. They were organized criminals I had no chance of opposing on my own, not with their patron who’d ordered my capture.
My fists clenched angrily as I thought about what I’d learned. Or rather, who I’d learned was responsible for all of the attacks on me recently.
Sir Jonah Briar, the man in charge of Gladstone Financial, one of the largest investment firms in the whole country, and the man who had helped me get my business started, was behind it all.
The kidnapping of Delilah which had started everything? That was under his orders to get back at Delilah’s father for some petty reason. Hiring Marky Fetters to send goons after me? Again, that was Sir Briar. The assholes who kidnapped me right outside the Finch-Fletchley’s gates? On Sir Brair’s payroll. The attempted hit and run while Sam was in the car with me? Also him. This most recent kidnapping attempt? Him once more.
I was… well, to say I was angry would be an understatement. I was livid. But I could not act. Not yet. I had to build up my powerbase, improve the quantity and quality of magical tools I had access to, and so much more.
Thus, after getting everything we could out of them, Sirius had Obliviated the thugs and dropped them off outside of a pub covered in beer and vomit. They’d think they’d gotten drunk, or drugged, and that would explain why none of them could remember the events of their time in Castle Black’s dungeon.
Marky Fetter’s contacts in the underworld had helped a bit, and now that I knew who the puppet master was, I could plan accordingly.
‘Time to start investigating Sir Briar and figuring out what his deal is. Why is he obsessed with me and my businesses? Surely if he wanted them he could find another way to bully me into handing over my secrets. He controlled a large chunk of Cauldron Remedies after all,’ I thought darkly.
I hadn’t forgotten that he had been wearing magical rings the first time we’d met. How had he gotten them? Was he a Squib? How much did he know about magic, and was that why he’d gone after me so fiercely? I simply didn’t know, but I needed to find out.
For now, though, I had a job interview to conduct, and I straightened my tie and tried to look calm and professional as Scarlett knocked on the door to my office and sent in the first of two young women.
“Hello, Miss Snyde,” I said in greeting, standing up and offering her my hand. “Nice to meet you. Charlie’s has told me good things about you.”
“They were all lies,” Merula Snyde huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Unless they were about how much I kick ass. In which case, yeah, they were true.”
I took a moment to give the witch a quick look-over. She had short brown hair with a few locks of a lighter shade in front, with brown eyes narrowed at me as she also looked me over. Unlike like too many purebloods, she knew how to dress to blend in with the Muggles, wearing a green jacket over a burgundy shirt, and slightly scuffed blue jeans with old Nike sneakers.
Merula Snyde had been the character of a Hogwarts game set a few years before the events of Harry Potter. Specifically, during the seven years Charlie had been at school. It followed the events of an unnamed protagonist trying to find a bunch of magical McGuffins in order to thwart a plot to overthrow the Ministry by brainwashing all of the corrupt members and to get the former Death Eaters who’d escaped Azkaban their proper punishments.
Unfortunately, like so many things, the good intentions were muddied by a variety of factors and turned to nefarious goals, leading to the death of a lot of people.
In the end, Merula Snyde had helped save the day along with the protagonist, even if the former Slytherin had been inches away from helping her evil aunt commit some nasty deeds. Still, because of her former affiliation the Ministry was, to put it bluntly, wary of her, and had been blacklisted from a lot of jobs Purebloods like her could normally take for granted.
“Charlie mentioned you were good at a couple of things,” I admitted. “A good duelist. A potioneer. And something of a firebrand.”
“Polite way of saying I was a bitch,” Merula huffed. I simply nodded.
“Care to tell me why you agreed to this job interview, then?” I inquired. “Even if you’ve been recommended by a friend of mine, I can’t exactly just hire you on the spot. What makes you a good fit? What can you bring to the table?”
“Well, first, I only did so because Charlie told me to,” Merula replied. “He said that it was a better chance I’d get than anywhere in the Magical World, at least. And since I didn’t want to go hungry in the coming weeks, I agreed. However, after meeting you, and seeing your eyes… consider me intrigued.”
“Intrigued? By what?” I asked.
“The hate in your eyes,” she said, voice low. “It is familiar to me.”
“And where have you seen eyes like mine before?” I wanted to know.
“I know that look because I see it all the time in the Merlin damned mirror,” Merula said, pointing to her own face for emphasis. “Trust me, I know what it looks like when somebody has all that anger bubbling away below the surface and wants to find a way to tear down everyone that has ever hurt you.”
“Observant,” I said after a moment.
“Damn straight I am,” she smirked.
To my surprise, Merula sniffed the air. “Mm. It’s not as strong up here, but I can smell silvervine, wormwood, and germaniums… you’re making a moon potion to take care of a woman’s monthly issue. And a whole lot of it. Enough for a couple thousand people if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re able to tell all that just by scent alone?” I asked, impressed.
“Absolutely,” Merula said proudly. “I can also smell the Wiggenweld potions, though it’s not a recipe I’m familiar with. And a hair growth potion, too.”
She then grinned at me. “You’re brewing potions, and yet I know for a fact the markets in Diagon Alley and the rest haven’t been flooded with the stuff. So you’re selling elsewhere. Overseas, perhaps? I did hear a rumor you were seen chatting with Cyrus Greengrass, and everyone knows he has family across the pond. But no, that’s not it.”
She leaned in. “I think you’re brewing watered down potions and selling them to the Muggles. Risky, but an untapped market. And there’s a lot of money to be made there. But you need somebody who knows what they’re doing. I’ll bet you don’t have anybody who knows how to brew potions properly. Self-taught, at best. That’s what I bring to the table, Mr. Hunch.”
“My name is Edward Rose,” I replied sharply.
“You’re still the head of House Hunch, though?” Merula asked, confused.
“I’m a Squib,” I replied. “And while my father never disowned me, do you really think the Wizengamot will allow me to have any say in what my House does?”
“Fair enough,” she replied with a slow nod. “Still, that just makes it all the more important for you to have somebody to know what they’re doing, and who knows how to handle the Ministry to make them look the other way in case somebody notices something about your, let me guess, you’re calling it ‘herbal remedies?’”
“And you don’t have any issues doing jobs like that that? Jobs that might annoy certain groups? Such as the Ministry?” I inquired.
“Fuck the Ministry,” Merula snapped. “They’re bloody arses who only know how to ruin lives! Did you know I’m on some sort of watchlist?”
“Your parents were Death Eaters,” I pointed out. “And your aunt was part of a conspiracy to bring the Ministry down. It’s understandable they’d keep an eye on you.”
“Yeah, sure, I don’t like it but I can accept that. But making it so I can never get a job anywhere good? Preventing me from leaving the country to try and seek my fortunes somewhere else? Spying on my home all hours of the day if I so much as swear?” Merula replied angrily.
“I have a temper, and I know I’m a bitch and half,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest. “But I still have my pride, damn it!”
“And your pride would allow you, a Pureblood, to work for me, a Squib, who is actively going behind the Ministry’s back?” I inquired.
“Absolutely,” Merula declared with a vicious grin.
“Alrighty, then, let me just check something real quick,” I requested and I took my bone dice out of a pocket. “What was Merula Snyde’s nickname at Hogwarts?”
The former Slytherin girl looked amused at the sight of me rolling my Divination Dice across the desk, only for her expression to shift to shock when I said aloud, “The Most Powerful Puffskein, eh? Cute. Not at all what I expected from you.”
“H-how did you-?!” she gasped.
I rolled again. “Ah, I see, it was because you got turned into a Puffskein for a bit. Transfiguration accident? No matter.”
“I-I… are you a Seer?!” she uttered in disbelief.
“What is Merula Snyde’s favorite sandwich?” I asked next, ignoring her, and Merula’s face paled even further when I revealed it was bacon and pickled eel.
“An exotic choice. I’m partial to eel myself, though I prefer it grilled. Now, one last question: Will Merula Snyde betray me?” I asked again, keeping my eyes on the young woman, and she stiffened a bit as my dice clattered across the wood.
I looked down at the dice. This was the first time I’d actually used them for their intended purpose. The rest of the information I’d dazzled her with was all stuff I’d known after playing the game she’d been in.
I stared at the results of the dice for a bit before look up to Merula. “I don’t often get such an empathic negative response from my dice,” I told her, causing her to sag a bit in relief when it was clear I wasn’t going to have to ‘take care of her’ for knowing too much.
“So, does that mean I’ve got a job?” she asked with a nervous yet hopeful voice.
“How does Head of Brewing sound?” I offered. “You were correct, I need somebody who knows how to properly brew potions, and to come up with new recipes. Starting salary is fifteen thousand galleons a year, with options for raises and promotions depending on quality of your work. I can also pay you in Pounds Sterling if you prefer.”
I couldn’t help but grin as Merula’s eyes bugged out of her head and she choked a bit at the money I was willing to pay her.
“Th-that’s-!” she gasped.
“Don’t worry, the contract comes with guaranteed Paid Time Off, Overtime, Sick Days, and Vacation Hours. Oh, and a few other benefits, such as health and dental insurance packages. Sound good?”
“Hell yeah it sounds good!” Merula exclaimed. “Where do I sign?!”
“Before that, let’s talk about the memory enhancement potion you memorized,” I said, and she went still as I mentioned I knew about the secret mind-boosting potion that had been capable of granting a person mind-control powers after a Dark ritual.
“What do you want to do with it?” she demanded, immediately on guard.
“Could you repurpose the potion? Make it into something capable of curing Alzheimer’s and other brain-related issues using only mundane ingredients?” I asked, and she blinked at that, before gaining a thoughtful look.
“I suppose… part of what makes it so effective was how many magical ingredients it used… but if you don’t want to gain Legilimency-like abilities, then yeah, maybe. Need a lot of experimenting to find out, though,” Merula replied.
“Good thing the Head of Brewing job comes with access to a state-of-the-art laboratory and potion lab,” I pointed out.
“Huh. Yeah, I suppose that would be a good thing,” she hummed. “Alright. As long as you don’t want to use the potion for evil, or ask me to write down or tell anyone else the original recipe, then I’ll be willing to work with you.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the employment contract. “Read through this and then sign on the dotted line.”
She took it and did indeed read through the contract, carefully checking every clause and article. After asking a few clarifying questions and letting me know she knew I was using Oath Binding Ink and could come up with a few ways to make the magic within it stronger without sacrificing quality or quantity, Merula Snyde signed on the dotted line, and formally became one of my employees.
In time, I had plans to make her the head of Cauldron Remedies entirely, letting her deal with the potion-making business matters while I focused on Avalon Industries as a whole, but she needed to build up reputation and rapport with the rest of the employees before that, and of course Merula had to get used to the way I worked. But it seemed like she would be a good fit. Even with her blisteringly foul mouth.
Once she’d signed, Merula went off to inspect her new workplace with Scarlett escorting her, eager to get started.
The witch wasn’t the only one whom I was interviewing that day. I had a few other people to meet with for a variety of positions throughout my growing organization.
However, most of them weren’t all that memorable. And I was pretty sure at least two of them were spies. Once the background checks on them were done, we’d see if my assumptions were correct. Until then, I had one final person to interview.
‘After this I need to hire somebody to take charge of doing interviews on my behalf,’ I thought to myself.
When the newcomer came in, I gave her a smile and motioned for her to sit down. The middle-aged woman gave me a polite smile as we exchanged pleasantries, though she looked a bit nervous.
“So, I see that you speak Portuguese,” I said, looking at the woman’s resumé. “And spent several years working as a secretary.”
“That is correct,” she replied with a nod.
“Hmm. And you worked and lived in Portugal for a while? And were married during that time?”
“Yes. We are no longer together, though,” she stated, a brief flash of distaste flickering across her face.
I nodded at that, eyes flickering across the resumé a bit. She’d moved back to London not too long ago after the divorce. Made plans to go to Edinburgh, but she’d seen an ad in a newspaper for my job posting.
“Well, I have great respect for single mothers, and being willing to raise your daughter on your own takes a lot of courage,” I commented. “However, I have to ask if you’ll be able to split your time between taking care of her and working?”
“I am very adept at managing my time, and can confirm that I will be able to work with any schedule you may have,” she claimed.
“I like to get to know my people better. Do you have any hobbies?” I inquired.
“Well, I’ve always enjoyed writing,” she admitted.
“Any interesting ideas?” I asked.
“One or two,” she replied evasively. “Science fiction, mostly.”
“I love science fiction,” I commented. “So many things to explore with that genre.”
Some more idle questions were asked and she answered them. I’d already made up my mind, but I’d been curious and had enjoyed speaking with her more than I thought I would.
So in the end I offered her the secretarial position and a contract to look over, and she signed it eagerly.
“Wonderful, glad to have you onboard! And in the event you ever publish a book, I’d love to be the first person to ask for your autograph,” I said as I shook her hand. She laughed politely, but I was dead serious.
“Welcome to the team, Miss Rowling,” I told her. “Your orientation starts tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp, and you’ll be working with Mrs. Calloburgh for now. I hope we can get along.”
Joanne Kathleen Rowling smiled back at me, and there was relief in her eyes that she’d managed to secure a job so soon after returning to the UK with her daughter.
I had no idea what was going to happen going forward, but if nothing else, I could now say I’d met the creator of this world. How many other people can make such a claim?
Comments
Catherine Colin
Hell yeah
Ian Rodgers
Don't worry, she's just funny, one-time cameo. Who else can say they hired the creator of the world they're in? Since she got hired, she'll never write anything, and thus never get famous and fall down the terf rabbit hole. No paradoxes here!
Catherine Colin
No how can you put jk in there? Unless u plan on redeeming her? Hopefully she doesn’t become a terf.
Catherine Colin
Oh yeah, let’s go get my weekly squib tale fix!!!!
