La Vida Loca

Walking despondently down Diagon Alley to her flat on the corner of it and Nobe Loke, Viola Beanacre kicked a ball of paper in front of herself. "Stupid!" Kick. "Blind!" Kick. "Stubborn!" Kick. "Newspaper!" Kick.

Viola had just quit her job at the Daily Prophet over a matter of principle, but high-minded sentiments wouldn't pay the bills, and a low-paid career in journalism had meant she'd never saved much money. She was noted for a dogged pursuit of the truth, and the other Prophet staff all seemed determined to do as the Ministry of Magic told them and pretend Harry Potter was mad and You-Know-Who wasn't back. Viola refused to go along with it. And what now? Would she have to try to get work from The Quibbler?

She hadn't done anything more than sleep in her flat for months. It was untidy and the cupboards were empty. Her dress robes were hanging in the wardrobe, full of spiders, and she suspected there were Puffskeins nesting under the sofa. This is it, she thought. This is where the truth leads you - somewhere where you're lonely and without a future.

Her first husband had told her she'd end up alone, and she'd gleefully sent him an invitation to her second wedding. He'd sent her a sympathy card on her second divorce. Git.

Well, there's no point grizzling about loneliness when homelessness and starvation are more immediate concerns, she told herself. What you need, Viola Beanacre, is a job.

*******

Healer Beanacre was busy in his brewing room, mixing up his latest batch of product. His images smiled soothingly off medical potion bottles in just about every bathroom cabinet in wizarding Britain. Not everyone passed Potions at school, after all. 'Healer Beanacre's Smoke-Free Pepper-Up' was a massive seller.

Ethelina Hawley, main owner and Managing Director of Herbs By Floo, wandered in, clipboard in one hand and her bizarre Muggle quill in the other. "Hullo Phineas," she said, ticking something off with her pen. "We've got a batch of Instant Skin scheduled for shipping the day after tomorrow. How's it coming along?"

He frowned. "It should be ready then. Can we bottle it and get it out in time?"

"No problem," Ethelina told him. She'd work through the night to bottle the potion herself. She sat on a stool by a bench and peered into a tiny cauldron. "What's this?"

"I've been experimenting, swapping galangal for ginger in a 'flu remedy. I'm trying to make one that doesn't work on the temperature rise, but sorts out the runny nose and sinuses in heavy colds that feel like 'flu."

"Beanacre's Bug Buster!" Ethelina laughed. "Good work. Can you have it ready for public use by the autumn?"

"Well, it needs testing. And probably tweaking. Maybe it'll be okay by spring, if it doesn't have any complicated side effects."

Healer Beanacre was one of Herbs By Floo's few wizard employees. While squibs and part-humans could gather, grow and prepare many ingredients, it still took a full wizard to make proper potions. Phineas had joined the firm in the mid-1980s, fed up of still being held in slight suspicion a decade after being freed from an Imperius Curse. Together, he and Ethelina had come up with his product line and turned it into a bestseller.

Ethelina rested her head on her hands. "You look tired," Phineas commented.

"We've had a big rush order for willow preparations. Rose and Perkins are off on their honeymoon and I've been covering, but didn't expect to have to complete an order like that. Willy and Cassandra are rushed off their feet packing orders, they haven't even had time to go out picking."

"If you're short-staffed, I heard from my daughter today. She needs something to tide her over..."

"Viola? I thought she all but lived in the Prophet offices. I haven't seen her in ages."

"She quit," Healer Beanacre said. "For the right reasons, but she's going to be a bit broke, and she won't take money from me or her mum... not that we need it."

"Fine!" Ethelina decided. "I'll tell her she can do a stint here. She can have a temporary contract, one month, and she'll be working with the Squibs." Ethelina had been friends with Viola for years, and knew very well that Viola was wary of accepting gifts and would never take on a job she thought was being offered to her out of sympathy. Slytherins distrusted unselfish actions.

Besides, Ethelina had another scheme in mind, and Viola was just the right person for the task...

**

Bert Hawley's commis chef was doing his best to avoid his boss' wrath. The pastry chef had already received the bawling-out of a lifetime, and all the kitchen staff were trying to do their jobs as efficiently and unobtrusively as possible.

"Eet's that girl. That peenk 'aired girl," Carlos, the head waiter, muttered to Marina, one of his waitresses, as they smiled reassuringly at their customers.

Marina nodded sagely. "She's ver' pretty."

"I theenk she 'as turned 'im down."

They both winced as a loud crash came from the kitchen. The diners didn't mind. They expected a great chef to display some temperament. This was as good as free entertainment while they ate.

Why does she still have to come here? Bert asked himself furiously. Why can't she carry on her work from her office at the Ministry? He and Nymphadora Tonks had had two very nice dates. The first had been a trip to see the Weird Sisters and the second was to see a musical in the Muggle West End. He had been a complete gentleman. And then, after the second date, she told him she'd better not go out with him any more. She'd told him she wasn't dating someone else, which left only one cause that Bert could think of: she was refusing to see him because he was a Squib. Despite that, she and her friends still made use of Bert's private dining room for little meetings. Just seeing her made him feel rejected all over again.

Many years previously, Bert had said goodbye to the wizarding world, believing witches and wizards thought him useless, expendable - even inferior. Over the past year he'd started to think he might have been wrong. And now this! Stuck-up Nymphadora Tonks, who clearly has no time for anyone who isn't a fully-fledged wizard with no scandals and no dark secrets! He slammed a heavy frying pan down on the stove and glared around the kitchen.

Looking at his nervy staff, Bert felt ashamed of his behaviour. He went out the back of the building and kicked the wall for a bit. Chris, his immediate deputy, could run the restaurant competently. He should take the afternoon off, lie on the grass in Regent's Park or browse round the local galleries. He could even clean his apartment - no, Bert thought, dismissing the idea instantly. I'm not that upset.

He could visit Ethelina. That was it! Oh, it meant a trip to her factory-cum-warehouse, but it wasn't exactly a wizarding place. It was more like a non-Muggle, yet non-wizarding place. He hadn't seen her for a couple of weeks.

He poked his head back round the kitchen door. "Chris, take over for me for the rest of the day. I'm not feeling well."

There were grins of delight all round as soon as the door shut.

**

Viola was dusty, hot, sweaty and very, very grumpy. Willy Orr and Cassandra Smith were heaving crates around the warehouse without a care. Viola leaned back against a pile of boxes she'd just filled with bottles of tincture of wormwood.

"I'm knackered!" she announced.

Willy looked shyly at her. "If it's not a daft question... why don't you use your wand?"

She stared at him in shock. "I'm allowed to use my wand?" Because neither of the others could use wands, she'd supposed she wouldn't be permitted to use hers.

"Of course," Cassandra told her. "We'd use them if we could. It'll speed things up immensely."

Just as Viola was about to whip out her wand, the staff door to the warehouse opened and in strolled a man dressed like a Muggle. He was very handsome, and in his early thirties. Viola, aware that she had hair like a bird's nest and whiffed distinctly of BO after moving boxes, hoped he'd walk straight past them. No such luck.

"Bert!" Willy yelled delightedly. "Come and give us a hand. Ethelina's out on a delivery. You can pack a few orders."

As the newcomer started reading the shipping list and sorting out the contents for more packages, Viola felt a surge of astonishment. This was Byrtnoth Hawley, squib, heir to the Hawley estates and part-owner of a successful herbs business? His curly brown hair flopped over his face as he leaned into a crate to get the last bottles of Pimple-B-Gone from the bottom. Viola admired his behind as he scrabbled for bottles. She still remembered him as the awkward little boy who'd sent badly-spelled letters to his twin at Hogwarts.

Suddenly Squib rights became a lot more interesting to Viola.

The industrial chimney at the end of the warehouse gave a whoosh and Ethelina returned, striding towards them. "Who packed the Lovegood order?"

Cassandra blushed, and Ethelina rounded on her. "Snorkack dung? Snorkack dung? What, in the name of Merlin, is a Snorkack?" Ethelina slapped a packet that smelled horribly like Thestral droppings onto the top of the crate next to Cassandra.

"We kept getting orders for it," Cassandra protested. "And if no one knows what it is, how can they know it's not the right stuff? We're always getting crank orders from the Lovegoods."

"His daughter's not a well girl," Viola said. Everyone looked at her. "Lovegood's, I mean. She sees things that aren't there. She probably doesn't realise it's a crank order." Viola accepted that both she and Mr. Lovegood had a keen interest in the truth; they just disagreed on how much proof of something was needed for it to be printable in a newspaper. She'd met him and his staff on occasion, though, and Luna's condition was well known among the newsgathering community.

Cassandra looked ashamed. "I thought they were taking the mickey. Because..."

Ethelina softened. "No harm done. I checked the contents list before delivering, and took it out. The Lovegoods don't know about it. But no more comedy deliveries, okay."

"Sure thing, boss!" Cassandra agreed.

Ethelina looked down the next delivery list, then realised her twin had come to visit. "Bert!" She hugged him briefly. "I'm glad you're here, I need to ask you a favour. Do you remember our gathering trip to Dorset last autumn?" Cassandra and Willy both grinned, and Viola wondered if there was something she'd missed.

"Sure," Bert said, sounding suspicious.

"Well, I've got something similar for you to do. And you can take Viola. Won't that be nice, Vi? A trip out of the office with my brother."

All this and pay too, thought Viola. If I know Ethelina Hawley, there's got to be a catch. "Where to?"

"Spain!"

"Some people get all the luck," Cassandra grumbled.

Thinking of suntan lotion, tapas and the prospect of a good-looking man in Speedos, Viola's suspicions faded. "Great! When do we go?"