Chapter Text
“Why do you want to know who I am again?
A documentary? If this is another thing for Harry bloody Potter then you can go find him elsewhere. He’s literally right in the next room.
Wait, you want to document our experiences at this office? That sounds extreme bor—you know what, nevermind, I don’t really care.
My name is Draco Malfoy. I have been an employee here at Merlin Niffler’s Parchment Company for seven years now. I don’t exactly know how I got started here, but I guess it all began with the anti-climatic end to the Second Wizarding War really. My father had roped me into the heat of it all, and by the time The-Boy-Who-Would-Not-Die finally finished the Dark Lord off, I just wanted to enjoy a monotonous life for a bit. I didn’t bother going back to Hogwarts to finish my N.E.W.T.s; I don’t think that anyone actually stayed around at the castle, even all of the professors. After the war, it was taken over by a whole new generation of staff, since no one wanted to be surrounded by memories of the war.
I was hired not even 3 months after the Battle of Hogwarts by a man named Gervais R. Shubert. Dumbledore surprisingly put in a good recommendation for me: he always said he thought I had a redeemable soul. My father put up an argument when I told him I wanted to work at Merlin Niffler’s; even said if I didn’t work at Malfoy Enterprises under him he would take away my inheritance. Needless to say, the next day I found myself renting a cheap one bedroom apartment in Diagon Alley. I have yet to hear from my father, and it has been some of the best years of my life.
When I began to work at Merlin Niffler’s, I never expected to see people from my Hogwarts days work here as well. It was supposed to be my safe place away from all of the shit I had to go through. I mean, who wants to sell parchment for a living? Seven years later the place is overrun by Gryffindors and Slytherins from my year. Even a few professors as well. As much as Severus Snape helped me through some of the roughest years of my life, I hate having to sit within five meters of his snarky arse almost every day. Even Saint Potter became a sales representative, and of course he has to sit at the bloody desk next to me.
However, I have found amusement in messing with Potter everyday. You would think since his godfather is a Marauder (and also manages the place), Potter would loosen up and be able to take a joke or two. I think something about being the Boy-Who-Lived messed with his head a bit. Some days he acts like he can’t remove a three meter pole from his arse, other days his head is so far up Black’s arse I don’t even know how he functions by himself. Either way, seeing him lose his top over finding various items on his desk set in Jello makes my day all that brighter.
What would I be doing if I wasn’t here? Well, I certainly don’t know what I would do with all of the useless information I’ve learned over the years. The price difference between twelve inch parchment and twenty inch parchment? Don’t think I could use that anywhere else. Or the fact that Granger takes her tea with two sugars and no milk.
Yes, I did mean Hermione Granger. Didn’t you see her at the desk when you walked in? That surprised me as well. Who knew the Brightest Witch of Her Age would end up working a shitty job as receptionist. It wasn’t due to lack of effort on her end, though. She tried to reach out and find other jobs, but I guess to some extent there’s still discrimination on blood status. I honestly think she would do well with whatever she wanted to do if there wasn’t that stigma, but if she left Merlin Niffler’s then I would feel like I’ve lost my best friend.
That does tend to make most people stare at me like that. Over the past seven years, Granger and I have buried the hatchet and became friends. Not only that, but I would go as far to say as she is the best friend I’ve ever had. It makes my day being able to look up and seeing her concentrating on the stupid computer the Ministry forced us to learn how to use.
No, Granger and I are not dating. She’s still with that bloody Weasel. We’re just friends, but I refuse to answer any more questions on that. Did I already talk about technology yet? While it was a bit of a learning curve, I must say it’s bloody brilliant. I don’t understand how Muggles came up with it, but being able to call someone on the telephone is much faster than having to go to the floo and fire call someone. I’m still on the fence about the computer. Granger once had to spend an hour showing me how to ask questions to the internet without me wanting to through the machine out the bloody window.
Most of the time it’s a bit hard to get work done in this place. Three years after being hired by Mr. Shubert, Sirius Black, who happened to be a sales representative at the time, became manager of Merlin Niffler’s. To say having a Marauder as a boss makes things interesting is a bit of an understatement. Black loves to call “mandatory” staff meetings, and then will spend an hour questioning us on which prank he should play on Remus Lupin that night. It’s not that uncommon to see Lupin come running into the building with bright pink hair and a duck beak that his metamorphmagus wife, Tonks (who happens to be my cousin), loves to sport.
But that’s just how things run here at the office: we work hard, and play harder. It may seem tedious to most others, but it’s a breath of fresh air really. I’ll deny it if you repeat it, but we’re all a family here, and I wouldn’t want it to be like anything else. After spending years at war, we all deserve a break. We deserve to live, laugh, and even love. Merlin, I sound like a damn sap, it’s all Grangers fault I swear.
How long do you plan on documenting us? Ten years? Isn’t that a bit excessive? It’s not like you’re going to film anything interesting. I mean really, how exciting could the lives of people working at a supply store really be?”