[LaBEL] Interviewing future potential [Piper]

          The young witch held onto the wide rim of her hat, as the early morning spring breeze ruffled her pale blonde bangs and pulled hair loose from her low bun. Although a bright promising sun peered between the tall buildings of central London, the muggles who shared the wide sidewalk with Lesleigh still adorn their heavier winter jackets over their suites, slacks and skirts. Among them, the young witch’s black jeans and Dragon hide jacket stood out and gave her more of the appears of a tourist, than a fellow London native on her way to the office. The youngest Ollivander had spent most of yesterday deciding on her outfit for her interview today. She finally deciding a combination of wizard and muggle fashion, most of which was from new spring lines, she had picked up during her recent trip to Paris. Les was sure that the brands will be noticed, and her mother recommendation of a modest and sensible witch’s jacket and skirt would NOT.

          Deep within the daydreams of her new potential future within the fashion industry, the young blonde witch almost passes the unassuming a brutalist styled office supply store. Noticing the address above the entry alcove she halted and examining the old phones dully displayed within the store front glass. Lesliegh was accustomed to wizard attempts to mask businesses in the view of the general Muggle public, but she somehow expected more from the Magazine’s storefront.

           “Can I help you, Miss?” asked a surly man as he stepped out of the alcove’s shadows.  A little surprised, Les stammered a reply while pulling out her latest copy of LaBEL magazine from her bag and retrieve the add from the Daily Prophet and the letter of her confirmed interview appointment, form between it's pages of animated spring style. The guard’s eyes moved from her jacket to his companies’ periodical and asked if she was there for an appointment.

         She wordlessly confirmed by nodding and holding up the letter on LeBEL’s stationary. To which his partner hidden near the shadows of the front door, lighthearted announced she was late. Alarmed Les checked her watch, display it’s long hand just passed the hour. “NO!... well just barely.”

          With a tilt of his head, the first wizard instructed her to follow him in. Opening the outer door and then waving her in through a second set. Inside the drab 1960’s exterior quickly given way to posh gleam of marble expanse of a foyer, lined in pale molding and decorated with contrasting frames of poster sized images of glorious moving models in vibrate flowing fabric. A tall, thin, un-talkative women behind the counter barely glanced at her letter before giving her a premade badge, “Lesleigh Ollivander Applicant” and giving instructions to the guard to escorted her.

          In the mirrors of the lift’s walls, Lesleigh took her time to hang the badge around her neck, and re-fix her hair before replacing her stylish hat on again, adjusting it to just the right angle to frame her face. Stepping back to admire her own refection, she was a little disappointed that the guard was not eyeing her.  She realized he was likely exposed by dozens of models a day. 

          Soon the motion of the lift halted, and the doors opened to reveal the sixth floor. Beyond sat a waiting room with two desks on either side and a number of chairs on the far wall filled with a handful of young attractive wizard of witches.  Les thought they were overdressed models, but as she was instructed to join them, to her dismay she saw that their badges announced they were also Applicants. Under a mask of total confidence, the nervous young witch eyed her competition.  She dismissed three by just their lame attire. Two of which wore traditional wizard robes and the last wear outdated muggle fashion. Of the others, the wizard studding an article on a fashion show, seemed the biggest threat. Although Lesliegh took confront that she had already glanced over it and thanks to her photographic memory had no need to review it, the young wizard wore fashion that appeared to be just off the runway.

           While she waited, Lesleigh tried to appear to be reading the slowly turning the pages of her copy of LaBEL, so she did not bite her nails. Being one of the last to be called, she did have the chance to gain useful knowledge. She surmised by the sure volume of owls and internal messages, that @Piper Morel  (her interviewer,) appeared to be one of the main decision makers for LaBEL magazine. Also by the quickness of that the other interviewees were dismissed, Les know she had only a few minutes to convince Piper she was the right witch for the job.

            Hearing her name, the blonde rose and headed into the open office door. Lesliegh heard the door magically close behind her, as her eyes adjusted to the bright window in the room. There she found a thick dark-haired young women at a desk, writing a note. A small confused look brush across Les's face before she took a short glance around. She had imagined Mrs. Morel to be a retired  fashion designer and was confused to see a women not much older then her, sitting in front of her. Trying not to miss a beat, Les said fully knowing she would likely sound desperate, but still hoped that she will be remembered, "Mrs. Morel? Hello, My name is Les... Lesleigh Ollivander and I would love to... and would do anything to work for you and LaBEL."

The spring had brought many good things to Label Magazine—the building had gone through a major spring cleaning and had been updated through a huge renovation of the offices on the top floor. Piper had been lucky enough to be granted a few days off of work due to the major construction and had even ventured out of her home for a short daytrip to Paris. Of course, it was not long before her adventure turned into something related to work but it had been some time before she had even had the opportunity to leave her home and her office so she was grateful for the short respite.

Returning to the office only meant more work for Piper, as the additional space made way for two more offices, space for two more employees. As the company grew, so did the need for fresh, innocent faces that would do just about anything to keep her boss happy. Nancy had said it was for Piper’s sake, the junior editor had so much on her plate that she barely had time for herself and an additional secretary or even a junior assistant for Catherine would not necessarily make her days shorter but it would make the work more manageable. Regardless of how opposed she may have been, Piper knew that once Nancy had decided something, there was little that she could do to stop her. It would simply be a matter of readjusting herself.

However, the interviewing process was grueling in itself. Rather than simply offer the position to the niece of a colleague or through word of mouth, Nancy had decided to make a big deal out of it by announcing it in the Daily Prophet. And for almost two weeks now, Piper’s schedule had been filled with appointment after appointment of ambitious young women who sought the position for an opportunity to get a foot in the door. Once they did, it would be smooth sailing after that, or so they thought. Piper knew that many a young woman who felt an affinity for fashion dreamed of her job, had this odd idea that it consisted of making appearances at galas, meeting celebrities, and dressing up. Sure, it was one of the more rewarding parts of her job but it hardly even consisted of ten percent of what she did.

Therefore, as each woman came in, Piper made it her duty to crush their flights of fancy first and then begin the serious part of the interview. The women would not outright walk out, but it was obvious in the face that they had lost some interest and rightfully so. Piper had a position of power but an assistant or even a secretary was at the bidding of her superiors. She would never take a new employee out, it was much too risky and could end in an embarrassing situation for everyone involved. Woman after woman walked in the door and yet none of them had been able to make the right impression.

“Ms. Morel, a Leslie Ollivander is here to see you,” Catherine informed her, bringing in a pot of hot lemongrass tea, the smell enough to cause the young witch to look up and smile. It was the highlight of her day, her throat a little sore after all of that talking. She began to take down some notes on the previous candidates, “Hello, how do you do?” she asked without even taking a look up, only looking in the woman’s direction when she approached her desk to take in her fashion. It was an important part of the job, after all. She smiled a little to herself, making a mental note of the jacket, it was a nice one but she was not about to tell her that.

“Mrs. Morel is my mother,” she replied pointedly, her expression unamused, as she looked down at the woman, “Or at least would have been had she chosen to be married so better yet, Mrs. Morel is my grandmother,” she adds quietly, arching an eyebrow at the young woman’s introduction. “Well Ms. Ollivander, it seems to me that your last name suggests you ought to be making wands and I regret to inform you, we’ve no need for a wand maker here,” she adds, “Have you any skills? Say if I had you hired for cleaning or arranging files, do you have any talent at that?”

         Les blinked under controlled surprise. Her confidence was only slightly disarmed by her interviewer’s reaction to her the formal name. Yet Les was not one to crumble under the analyzing eyes of authority nor their retorts. Instead the blond lifted her chin slightly higher and calmly claimed the chair in front of this Piper Morel’s desk. “I prefer Lesleigh.” She said with a friendly smile “Or Les. People only tend to call me Ms. Or Miss Ollivander if they are pissed at me.” She added not realizing it was a sassy remark. In truth, the worst teachers at Hogwarts called her 'Ollivander'. Still, Les felt a kinship with this young Junior Editor at LaBEL Magazine and wondered if she was a Gryffindor Hogwarts Graduate.

          “Yes.” Les let out a small laugh in reaction to the next remarks. References to her family and wands was noting Lesleigh have not heard before. She got very proficient in joining in with other’s Ollivander jokes.  “Alas I am hands are not as skilled in the art of wand making as my father my brother.” She lifted them as poof.

          The question was one that Les dreaded. It is what kept her up late the last few nights. She imagined one hundred and fifty different ways it could be ask. What do you have to offer LaBel Magaizien? What exactly do you see yourself doing for us? How might you help the Magaizin? Exactly, what can you do? What are you actually capable of?….   Yet ‘Have you any skills?’ was the simplest way to ask the same question. Les’ smile only lessoned a millimeter as her eyes darted to the bag she put next to her chair. The bag held three papers she prepared; a handwritten review she wrote of a Banshee performance she went to in Chatoeil , a colleague of imagines she made to show wizard fashion trends and where their bargain twins can be found, as well as a short brain storms list of new directions for the magazine.  But she asked if she had skills. They examples were to prove she had something to offer, they were not very skilled. The one she thought was the most impressive was the ideas list, but Ideas was not really a skill.  The only true skill Les always had was singing and Merlin would know that it was nearly impossible to make it as a singer.  Her love for fashion and music was not a skill. Her light brown eye raised to Piper Morel’s dark ones as the next question was asked.

          With a beaming smile, she greeted her as if Piper offered a saving ray of hope. “Well, it is funny that you asked. Cleaning and arranging files happens to be one of my skills.”  Lesleigh gave a little bit of a chuckle. before she explained. “Not being able to make wands, I was often had to make myself useful by put away wand boxes, filing the sale logs and cleaning the wandshop.” It truth Oli did most of the sweeping, but Les’ mother made her sweep and disappear the trash quite often as punishment.

          ‘With every wand made, there is about ten times the amount of wood shavings to be swept up on the floor.’ Mum used to say and she was right. At least here I would get paid for it. Still… I did not want to just sweeping and collect trash and file away …um whatever they file here forever. Lesleigh thought before adding.

          “I love fashion and music … also art and design, which is why I love your Magazine.” She amended remembering the line she practiced at home.  “As I said I would do anything to work here and I have no problem doing the work behind the scenes. I want to be a part of making the magazines. I don’t mind if I have to start at the bottom, if I am given a chance to learn and work my way up.”

There. She knows I am not planning to be a House Elf forever. She gave a final nod.

Piper frowned slightly in the way the young woman responded to being referred by her last name, the audacity of it was slightly infuriating, even though the Piper herself could relate to the sentiment. While her surname was not uncommon, the Morel name came with the association of music, her father a one-hit wonder of sorts before she was born. Being called Ms. Morel or any variation of the name had been initially infuriating, as a week would not go by before she was asked whether or not she was somehow associated with the band, she looked just like her father, the resemblance was almost impeccable. Piper wanted to be known and recognized for her own merits, not those of her father, she understand the young woman and although her expression did not soften she nodded, “Alright then, Lesleigh,” she said with a prompt nod as she looked over her hands. There was no need for her to prove it, Piper simply had a habit of insulting others, it came with the territory.

The witch watched the young woman as she looked at her bag just slightly, but held her tongue, she was not sure what was in the bag or why she had looked in its direction, it could have simple been something done as a nervous habit. She dismissed the thought almost immediately and looked over at Catherine with a smile as a pot of hot tea was set before the two of them, “Would you care for some coffee or tea, Lesleigh?” she asked after the young woman had gone into a list of her duties at the wand shop. Piper’s expression was one of disinterest, watching Catherine as the woman carefully poured tea into her cup, her eyes more interested in the steam rising from the tea rather than the young woman in front of her. She looked up at Lesleigh again and offered a polite smile, “As I said, it seems that you are of better use at a wand shop. This isn’t your typical magazine, Lesleigh, this is Label Magazine, we turn dozens of women away on a daily basis, this is no easy work, it isn’t for the faint of heart,” she added pointedly, bringing the cup of tea and saucer close to her face as she sipped casually.

She nodded as the woman expressed her interests, it was a common answer, every woman she had seen that day and the previous one said something similar. Piper had heard all of the stories, how Label Magazine had inspired them or given them a sense of purpose, they would go on and on about their interest in fashion as if it gave them some sort of credential to work at one of the most prestigious fashion magazines in all of London. “Yes of course, I do get that a lot, we are appreciative of your patronage,” she responded politely, Piper was many things but she could not be completely heartless when it came to speaking to one of the readers, it was people like her that made her job possible and while it was quite stressful, she did enjoy it.

“Let me give you more information in regards to the position,” she said, sliding a piece of paper in the young woman’s direction, “You would be a second secretary to me however you would primarily answer to Catherine here. Catherine accompanies me to all major events, manages my schedule, and travels with me on out of town assignments,” she explained casually, “I suppose you would do something along the lines of running errands for me. Now, this isn’t some job for a teenager, errands for me could be something as simple as fetching me lunch or taking notes at some of the company’s major meetings with shareholders and what not. You won’t be expected to be in fancy dress every day but you won’t very well be allowed coming in like that,” the woman said pointedly, “this job requires you to be punctual, diligent, and most importantly, to respect my privacy and that of my clients, I’d like to know a little more in regards to your work experience, you claim to have all this…interest in fashion, have you anything to show for it? Where do you see yourself in five years? Ten?” she questioned, taking another sip from her tea before sitting back. 

Lesleigh had noticed Ms. Morel, frowning. It was a look normally used by her mother in regards to most everything she did now in-days. Yet the frown was quickly lifted and her look soften, not allowing much time for Lesleigh to question her own actions.
 
Just after Lesleigh delivered what she thought was a very moving speech, Ms. Morel motioned for Catherine to enter. Catherine held a tea tray. Lesleigh thought it was odd she was offered a cup. Surely not every interviewee got a cup of tea and Lesleigh could not imagine anyone would serves tea to someone just before dismissing them. No, this had to be a ‘celebratory-you got hired,' cup of Tea. Lesleigh almost couldn't believe she had been hired, at LaBel! With a beaming smile she agreed to the tea. Lesleigh studied Catherine as she poured her cup. She looked for any hint that she knew, or a congratulatory wink. No, the woman had an excellent poker face. Still, there was no doubt the position was hers. As she graciously accepted her own cup of tea, as she decided she will tell them she could start tomorrow.

It was then Ms. Morel spoke the words “you are better use at a wand shop.” The words repeated as load as Big Ben in her head. Each ring dissolved her idea of what the tea meant. She lowered her untasted cup, to the table. She barely heard the next few statements as an eternal simmering cauldron of emotions received her full attention.

The spell was only broken when the Ms. Morel pushed a paper her direction. Why would she give me information when she apparently thinks I am better off in a Wandshop. Lesleigh asked herself as she examined the paper. Her eyes fell on the words “Assistant Secretary to Ms. Morel” just as Ms. Morel addressed them. Lesleigh mouth fell open and her eyebrows narrowed in slight confusion. She thought she was being interviewed for the front desk or odd department's grunt work secretary, not Second Secretary of the Second in command at LaBEL Magazine. She was about to interrupted Ms. Morel and announce the misunderstanding but caught herself and instead she listened attentively absorbing and speedreading information about the job she was actually being interviewed for.

No wonder there was so many stiffs in the waiting room.

Yet this job did not sound much different then what she imagined for the position of the front desk. Maybe less greeting people and more running errands. She had yet to see just how she was unqualified for it. Her temper peeked with the jab at her outfit, and acquirement of being punctual, diligent, and respectful to privacy.

Merlin’s beard, like she could not change her outfit. What was wrong with this witch? Of course, I could do this. These were pretty standard requirements for a job. Any job. I mean maybe I will have to work on my punctuality and I guess privacy would mean no gossiping. But to work here... and be Second Secretary of the Second in command at LaBEL Magazine, of course I would do it!

Out of anger, confusion then analytical thoughts, Lesleigh had held her tongue longer than she ever had. It was only after Ms. Morel asked questions did she finally opened her mouth. Out poured an unchecked tirade of emotional statements.

"I am not better off in a wand shop. Just because I am an Ollivander, doesn't means that working under my father's shadow would be the only thing I am good at. NO. I am not going to allow myself to be stuck in that owl's cage. I am going to do something and be someone. You are right that I don't have much work experience yet, but we all have to start somewhere. As for proof of my interest in fashion, what do I do show you my closet? Isn't every bloody witch interested in fashion?"

A thought occurred to her and she reached down and pulled out the tree papers out of her bag and placed them in the middle of the desk.

"This is the only thing I have to show for it." She tapped the finger on the paper with each point. "I have ideas." Tap. "I am willing to work hard." Tap. "I would love to eventually proof articles and come up with new directions for the Magazine." The blonde gave a final tap before leaning back into her chair.

"But I know I have a lot to learn and a lot of work to do before then. I wanted to learn from the best, at the best magazine. I would not be here, unless I can see myself working here in ten years..." She gestured around the office.

"But, if you are not able to look past my current attire," She stood up to and gesture to the outfit, until a few seconds ago she thought was perfect for the interview. "and see someone who is willing to wear whatever you want, get your coffee or make your tea how you want it, be at what ever meeting you need me to take notes for and do whatever needed to get the job done, then I am afraid I am the wrong witch."

The last five words hung in the air. Part of her that really wanted the job regretted final statement, but the proud Gryffindor part did not regret anything. She would rather claim they were wrong for not wanting her, then have them flat-out dismissing her after she groveled and pleaded.

When Piper looked at the young woman sitting down in front of her, she started to see traces of who she had been when she had first joined LaBEL magazine. It felt like ages ago, in this sort of work it seemed as if time went by so quickly you barely had time to enjoy it. At least that had been the case for Piper, who had rarely enjoyed a moment of free time ever since embarking in her career at the fashion magazine. It had been a sad thing, and she wondered if Lesleigh was aware of it, the hours of long, hard work, the lack of appreciation from her superiors, how she would have to say goodbye to her family and friends, happy hour or weekend getaways were no longer an option.

Of course she had the traditional days off but if you wanted to get ahead in this business, you had to show up everyday, there was always something to be done, after all. She was quite young, nineteen, around the same age Piper had been when she had started. In her benefit, however, she had countless connections through the work of her father and his one-hit wonder band. A friend of a friend had secured her a slightly better interview and a much better position than the one Lesleigh was applying for. But it was a good starting point, with a little dedication and a rememberable personality, she could go far or crash in burn should she choose to be careless.

But Piper was sure that her external appearance contradicted the thoughts in her mind, she had grown cold after years of dealing with even colder people and had been taught to keep her expression to herself, lest someone use them to their own end, or worst to make sure that she met hers. It was a scary thought to Piper, knowing that she was interview a person who may eventually take over her job once she decided to retire but the thought itself was funny: it’d be decades before the young witch would be ready to throw the towel in.

And then it came, exactly what she was waiting for: an outburst. Piper’s frowned only deepened however, of course she had to play the part, of the disgruntled future employer to teach her a lesson. “Ms. Ollivander,” she said before pausing momentarily, “I think you’re under the impression that this is child’s play. I enjoyed playing dolls when I was a child, does that make me equipped to work at a doll shop? I think not,” she added, “I appreciate your…passion but the last thing I need here is another girl that thinks this job is simply playing dress up. This job may look glamorous in the glossy pages of our magazine but there are a lot of blood, sweat, and tears poured into each and every layout in there,” she continued, her voice calm as she arched an eyebrow, as if to dare her to try to tell her otherwise.

She looked down as if in disinterest at the pieces of paper placed in front of her, but was reading over them briefly. Before her eyes shifted back up at her, “You are the wrong witch then,” she responded with a smile, her words slow and decisive. There was no need for such a person to be doing such a menial job. Waiting for a dramatic pause, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, “Go ahead and tell Ms. Smith that she’s landed herself the job,” she tells Catherine, who is standing by the door, who nods and left almost immediately.

“And as for you, Ms. Ollivander, I think there’s a position in the creative department that might be more to your liking,” she explains, leaning forward in her chair, “Nothing fancy of course, but if you’d like to learn about this business and have the determination to get somewhere, you may enjoy it more. Of course if you’ve decided that you’ll use this position to prove a point then the door is over there.”

Her pulse raced, while she stood there. Her defiant challenge disguised a need for understanding, recognition and acceptance. Her spirits fell as the women in front of her face deepened into a frown, while addressing Lesleigh by Miss. Ollivander. It is never good when they call you by your last name. Les thought as she waited for the backlash... but as the words came Les was still confused by their relevance.

“Child’s play?” Lelsleigh repeated Ms. MOREL questioningly and then the words, “Doll shop?” she whispered  almost inaudibly. She had no idea what she meant. Who was the child? Was it me? Did she think I thought this was a crappy play doll magazine or a game or something? No. I been trying to be serious. I have not been acting. Maybe she is calling my bluff. It makes no sense. She must have not listen to me or believed anything I said.

“I don’t, I won’t. I mean I know I’m not here to play dress up.” Less try to slip in her rebuttal. She WAS looking forward to dressing up and going to work at this great magazine, yet it was because she wanted this job. A job. This job. She wanted to be good at something. She wanted to create something with her hands and have another wizard smile when they see it. Just like her father and brother’s wands affected so many wizards. Her hands balled up trying to hold on to something she knew was slipping away before she had it.

“I know.” Lesleigh said, “That is why I want to work here.” Blood, sweat and tears they were all figurative, right? Blood… that was just unsanitary. Sweat, just ment hard work. And tears, well Merlin help anyone who makes me cry. Still, Lesleigh did not think this would be a cake job. I mean if I wanted a cake job I would work at a bakery or something. She didn’t know any job that was cake, really. Maybe they are all taken up by slackers. Some boring, slow office desk job in the ministry maybe. She knew that working here would not be easy. Nothing worth it is easy. But it would be something she love to do. Well at least that is what she thought. She was on the verge of breaking down and pleading for the job when...

Lesleigh blinked. She was temporary struck dumb and blind, while her brain replayed the words in her head. You are the wrong witch then… I am the wrong witch? She is calling my bluff. She must be. But she is holding all the cards and the game is done. No tears will help this one. Morel does not look like someone she could manipulate into reconsidering.  She had lost this job. Her dream job. It took nine months to find it. A place she was willing to work for the rest of her life. She was still willing to fight tooth and nail for and now... but it was already to late . She was going to lose it before she even had it.  Resigned Lesleigh bent down to pick up her bag as she heard Morel tell her secretary that Mrs. Smith she LANDED the Job! F&$* It. F&$* this stupid dumb magazine, the stupid dumb witch and her stupid dumb office. I don't want to work here anyways. She shouted with in her own head. The only thing that prevented this or a worst outburst from taking place was her parent's teachings. But nothing was going to stop her from slamming the door.

She did not wait to be dismissed. Les turned to leave as Morel said her name, but it did not stop her. She knew this dumb stuck up wich with her high and mighty magazine was going to offer the dumb position to that stupid, lame Smith witch. What more is there to say? She will open the door tell Ms. Moron Morel thank you for the (Bloody non-) interview and slam the door. Lesleigh took a step towards the door but stopped mid stride when she heard the words.  The words sunk in.

"Position...in the creative department might be what?" Lesleigh spun and faced the woman now leaning forward in her chair. She could not believe it. Nothing fancy except a position in the Creative department! "Are you serious?" She examined the wormend face for any sign for a bluff or joke. A second ago, she was practically telling Lesleigh to go back home and play with dolls but NoW she was offer her something better than being a lame secretary's secretary for some big wig, but instead a position within the creative department! She would be helping make something for LaBEL Magazine.

Lesleigh took the step eagerly back to the desk. She was too excited to sit back down in the chair and instead leaned on the table with her palms face down. "I do want to learn. I want to. I will. No. The only point I want to prove is I can do this and work here." Lesleigh swore, her previous anarchy thoughts vanished without a trace as if someone casted Evanesco. "I will take it."

A beam appeared on her face. She GOT IT. Not just some front desk job or a secretary job, but a job with in LaBEL Magazine. The LaBEL! She will be able to help make the fashionable, glamorous, colorful moving image happen! “When do I start?”

Piper watched in amusement when the young woman rose to her feet, partly expecting an outburst of unkind words or tears. It had happened in the past, after all, finding a job at Label Magazine was not only competitive but rare. Many times, positions were filled within days of appearing in the Daily Prophet and at times favoritism was given to the friends and family members of certain employees. It was not a practice that Piper condoned, often times the witches and wizards suggested by other members of the staff were not only unqualified but often times particularly lazy and entitled. In addition to, Piper understood how difficult it was to break into the fashion industry and wished to give everyone interested a fair chance. Piper had chosen Catherine for example and until this day, the woman still proved to be one of her best assets. Then again, Piper was very particular about the people she worked with.

“I’m serious,” she reassured the woman with a small smile of her own, she had not intended for the exchange to be so dramatic but she could understand the woman’s happiness. Piper had once been in her position, nervously sitting with a much younger and much more strict Nancy, her boss, sitting before her and questioning her, insulting her and she assumed waiting to get a rise out of her to assess her ability to do the job that was she eventually chosen to do. Over time, Piper was able to rise through the ranks and end up where she was today. Of course, Piper had not made as big a spectacle as Lesleigh was making but she had been tricked into believing she had ruined the interview until she realized that she had gotten a better opportunity. It seemed that Piper, too, could not resist what the reaction to her words would be.

She watched Lesleigh sit back down and her smile widened, it seemed as if Lesleigh was going to take the position after all, good thing because Piper was more than ready to return home. “Well you do have much learning to do and the creative department is no walk in the park, I guarantee that right now, but I believe that if you are as dedicated as you claim to be then everything else will come naturally to you. Of course it is entirely up to you,” she looked down at the woman before sighing softly, “It seems that you do have potential and drive but do know that others will always use whatever mistake you make to bring you down so while I do encourage you to proceed confidently, be sure to stay aware and hard working,” she advised. Those were words that Piper wish had been told to her.

“You may start next Monday, I’ll ask someone to take you down to the creative department so that you can have a look around on your first day, all you need to do is arrive at the front desk and tell them your name,” she explained, taking the time to gather up the resumes spread across her desk, bringing them into a pile before taking them against the table to straighten them out. She rose to her feet, and extended her hand, “It was nice to meet you Ms. Ollivander, I’ll be seeing you around,” Piper said politely before waving Catherine over for her papers, “Catherine will make sure that you sign the contract before you leave today, it is my lunch break and I am absolutely famished,” she explained, grabbing her bag off of the table before telling Catherine what to do. She left the office. Piper looked forward to seeing what Lesleigh would bring to the magazine and could only hope that she had made the right choice.
[/end]

She is serious. I do have the job! A F&**^ Job at LaBEL magazine! Lesleigh internally screamed as she attempted to outwardly control herself. She wanted to dance, jump up and down, but instead she held still while trying to intently listened to her new company boss. Her face was plastered with the widest smile it held since she Graduated from Hogwarts, breaking the illusion.
 
As she heard Ms.Morel’s words her own excited inner dialog interrupted.

“Well you do have much learning to do….” and shopping to go, and outfits to pick out… “is no walk in the park” Oh, how am I going to get to work every morning? Should I walk again? No. What if I am not wearing the right foot wear. I will have to find a safe place to apparate to. “...if you are as dedicated as you claim to be then everything else will come naturally to you." Of course. I was meant to be here. I just did not know it. This is going to rock. I am going to rock! I am going to learn the ropes in no time!

Lesleigh confidently thought, before a sigh came from Ms. Morel. Something changed in her tone that made Lesleigh stopped her inner dialogue and really pay attention to the older witch's words: “… others will always use whatever mistake you make to bring you down so while I do encourage you to proceed confidently, be sure to stay aware and hard working,”

What? Back stabbers? Maybe there was one or a few in the department that she is warning me about. They must be really mean for her to say something. Slytherins likely. It sounds like them anyways. Lesleigh was not one to back down from others. She was never afraid to stand up and speak up for herself and others. She would have normally dismissed the statement without a second thought, but the cautionary word from a woman with just as much confidence and in such a high position was disturbing Lesleigh. So, the Gryffindor did not take the words lightly.

“Thank you, for the warning. I will.” Lesleigh said with a small nod.

The mood changed and Lesleigh was told Monday, (THIS MONDAY!) would be her start date. She repeated the instructions back to he boss to show she was listening, “Monday, tour of creative department, just give my name to the girl at the front desk. Got it.”
 
She followed Ms. Morel’s lead and stood up and took the brunettes hand in an excited quick handshake. “It was nice to meet you too. I am totally looking forward to working here. Thank you, Ms. Morel! ” Lesleigh was only able to hold herself together long enough for her new boss to leave. Then she gave a little shriek of an “Eeeeeeeeeee…. YES!” finished with a jump and punch in the air.

To her horror she heard a clearing of a throat as Catharine had come in and apparently watched her childish cheer. “I’m just excited.” Lesleigh said with a shrug, although her reddened cheeks gave more away. The lady smiled dismissively and moved on to the forms that Lesleigh filled out quite quickly. In no time flat she had a copy of the employs handbook and was out on the street.

The guards that greeted her on the way in, must heard she got hired or spotted the hand book pressed against her chest. They congratulated her and told her that they will see her First thing Monday Morning!

"Will do!" She yelled back before practically skipping down the street.

[OUT]