Ficlet: Woman's Work (Lily, Edgar Bones), PG
Title: Woman's Work
Author: elsane
Characters: Lily Evans, Edgar Bones
Summary: Lily's first day at work doesn't go quite as she expected.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Notes: If I had an extra 200 words I'd throw in a subtexty allusion to a certain ship, but otherwise this is what I'd want from new canon. Thanks to She-Knows-Who for the beta.
Now Moran was going on about the Ministry Cafeteria.
Lily sighed and reached up discreetly to readjust her collar. Her robes were new, and they chafed at her neck. Still, they were the first wizarding clothes she'd ever chosen for herself, and she was determined to like them.
She was glad to be done with the schoolgirl uniform, but she did miss the Ministry visitor badges. Between the front door and the Department of Mysteries that morning she had been asked twice to fetch a cup of tea and once to deliver a memo. "Lily Evans, Unspeakable in training," might seem rather spoken, for Unspeakables, but at least it would ensure no one mistook her for a charlady.
She knew, though, from the way that Moran avoided speaking directly to her, that no badge would help her here. Woman or Mudblood or both, it was enough to keep Moran off-balance and the other four trainees clustered at the other end of the table when they broke for tea, talking too loudly about Gryffindor's embarrassing defeat in last year's Quidditch Cup.
That was all right. Once they got to work, she would show them.
"Let's get started again, guys, sorry." Moran tapped his wand on the lectern. "We just have the loyalty and secrecy regs to run through, and then we can get down to the real stuff."
He said it with the unselfconsciousness of a true researcher, but Edgar Bones, sitting up front with a cup full of tea and a lap full of parchment, quirked a private smile as he leafed through his reports.
She had met Bones two weeks ago in Dumbledore's office, to discuss the loopholes in the Unspeakables' Vow of Silence. Tricky, but we need someone there, Dumbledore had concluded. Can you manage it, Miss Evans? She had smoothed her skirt out, feeling very fierce and very young, and jerked her chin up: yes.
It had taken them over an hour to dissect the terms of the oath. Moran ran through it in five minutes. "If you've any questions ask me or Edgar," he finished. "You've each been assigned to one of the Mysteries. We'll head there next." He pointed his wand at a pile of envelopes, which floated up to distribute themselves across the room.
She looked at her assignment. Then she folded it back up, her hands shaking. Dammit, she had liked Bones.
She waited for the other trainees to file out behind Moran, chattering and passing around their assignments, and came up by Bones as he was putting out the lights.
"Can I have a word with you?" she said; then, carefully, "It's about the order of this assignment."
He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and lifted his clipboard. "Just a moment." He slotted his parchments into the clipboard, and when the clip snapped down, an enchanted hush snapped down around them as well. "What can I do for you?"
"Look," she said in a sharp undertone. "You said, Professor Dumbledore said, that this job was important, and I believed you. But if you're just sticking me on the sidelines, you're making a serious mistake. I'm one of the best charmworkers you have. Don't waste me."
"Miss Evans," he said. "We wanted you here because you are one of our best charmworkers -- "
"You wanted me here?" She thrust her assignment at him. "To play at stereotypes? I thought you wanted me for weapons development!"
"I promise you, this is exactly where we need you. And it's nothing to do with your gender, or your age."
"I thought," she said, less certain now, "I would be studying death, or time, or something -- " useful, "something offensive."
"If there's any true counter to You-Know-Who's magic, this will be the key. Not death. Nothing so obvious. In fact, it's fortunate for us that you are a woman. It's that much less likely that anyone will see the danger in your work." His voice gentled. "It makes it harder for you. I know that; I'm sorry."
She hesitated. "Do you truly mean that?"
"It is my professional opinion," he said.
She stared down at her assignment, and ran her fingers along the edge. "All right, then."
He didn't smile, exactly, but he looked at her with dark steady eyes and nodded. He tucked his clipboard under his arm, the silence around them dissolving with the movement, and she trailed him out of the conference room and down the hall.
"This is your stop, I think," he said, before one of the multitude of unmarked doors. "I expect great things from you, Miss Evans." His voice was almost but not quite ironic, and she felt her heart oddly in her throat.
"I will do my best, sir," she said, and opened the door into the Mystery of love.
Poll
Author: elsane
Characters: Lily Evans, Edgar Bones
Summary: Lily's first day at work doesn't go quite as she expected.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Notes: If I had an extra 200 words I'd throw in a subtexty allusion to a certain ship, but otherwise this is what I'd want from new canon. Thanks to She-Knows-Who for the beta.
Now Moran was going on about the Ministry Cafeteria.
Lily sighed and reached up discreetly to readjust her collar. Her robes were new, and they chafed at her neck. Still, they were the first wizarding clothes she'd ever chosen for herself, and she was determined to like them.
She was glad to be done with the schoolgirl uniform, but she did miss the Ministry visitor badges. Between the front door and the Department of Mysteries that morning she had been asked twice to fetch a cup of tea and once to deliver a memo. "Lily Evans, Unspeakable in training," might seem rather spoken, for Unspeakables, but at least it would ensure no one mistook her for a charlady.
She knew, though, from the way that Moran avoided speaking directly to her, that no badge would help her here. Woman or Mudblood or both, it was enough to keep Moran off-balance and the other four trainees clustered at the other end of the table when they broke for tea, talking too loudly about Gryffindor's embarrassing defeat in last year's Quidditch Cup.
That was all right. Once they got to work, she would show them.
"Let's get started again, guys, sorry." Moran tapped his wand on the lectern. "We just have the loyalty and secrecy regs to run through, and then we can get down to the real stuff."
He said it with the unselfconsciousness of a true researcher, but Edgar Bones, sitting up front with a cup full of tea and a lap full of parchment, quirked a private smile as he leafed through his reports.
She had met Bones two weeks ago in Dumbledore's office, to discuss the loopholes in the Unspeakables' Vow of Silence. Tricky, but we need someone there, Dumbledore had concluded. Can you manage it, Miss Evans? She had smoothed her skirt out, feeling very fierce and very young, and jerked her chin up: yes.
It had taken them over an hour to dissect the terms of the oath. Moran ran through it in five minutes. "If you've any questions ask me or Edgar," he finished. "You've each been assigned to one of the Mysteries. We'll head there next." He pointed his wand at a pile of envelopes, which floated up to distribute themselves across the room.
She looked at her assignment. Then she folded it back up, her hands shaking. Dammit, she had liked Bones.
She waited for the other trainees to file out behind Moran, chattering and passing around their assignments, and came up by Bones as he was putting out the lights.
"Can I have a word with you?" she said; then, carefully, "It's about the order of this assignment."
He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and lifted his clipboard. "Just a moment." He slotted his parchments into the clipboard, and when the clip snapped down, an enchanted hush snapped down around them as well. "What can I do for you?"
"Look," she said in a sharp undertone. "You said, Professor Dumbledore said, that this job was important, and I believed you. But if you're just sticking me on the sidelines, you're making a serious mistake. I'm one of the best charmworkers you have. Don't waste me."
"Miss Evans," he said. "We wanted you here because you are one of our best charmworkers -- "
"You wanted me here?" She thrust her assignment at him. "To play at stereotypes? I thought you wanted me for weapons development!"
"I promise you, this is exactly where we need you. And it's nothing to do with your gender, or your age."
"I thought," she said, less certain now, "I would be studying death, or time, or something -- " useful, "something offensive."
"If there's any true counter to You-Know-Who's magic, this will be the key. Not death. Nothing so obvious. In fact, it's fortunate for us that you are a woman. It's that much less likely that anyone will see the danger in your work." His voice gentled. "It makes it harder for you. I know that; I'm sorry."
She hesitated. "Do you truly mean that?"
"It is my professional opinion," he said.
She stared down at her assignment, and ran her fingers along the edge. "All right, then."
He didn't smile, exactly, but he looked at her with dark steady eyes and nodded. He tucked his clipboard under his arm, the silence around them dissolving with the movement, and she trailed him out of the conference room and down the hall.
"This is your stop, I think," he said, before one of the multitude of unmarked doors. "I expect great things from you, Miss Evans." His voice was almost but not quite ironic, and she felt her heart oddly in her throat.
"I will do my best, sir," she said, and opened the door into the Mystery of love.
Poll