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Thanks go to my beta, Southern Witch 69.

sshg316 made me a wonderful Watch Witch poster! It's perfect! Thank you sshg316!




Purple-Pink #5

April 7th, 4:43 pm


I’m cataloging the last of the books I’ll have to pull from the shelves tomorrow. With fewer and fewer texts considered to be Appropriate Reading, whether in terms of behavior discussed or language used, the British Magical Museum’s Library is fairly quiet. There’s little point in people visiting it anymore.

The eerily complete silence is broken by a rather breathless voice. “Hermione, could I trouble you for a second?”

“Certainly, Marion. What is it?”

The pale blond before me twists her hands together and looks around – she’s trying to be surreptitious about it, but her head jerks far too much for the attempt to be successful. Her Proper Smile appears somewhat strained.

Poor Marion, Hufflepuff to the core.

There’s a Watch Witch poster just behind us to the left. It actually doesn’t even matter whether anyone else is about as long as that hangs on the wall.

You’d think she’d realize that by now.

“Actually, Marion, I’m a bit behind in my shelving. Would it be all right if we talked while I put these back?” I gesture to the books stacked on the edge of my desk.

A rather paltry stack of books compared to what it should be.

“That … that would be smashing, Hermione. Just smashing!” The positive side of a lack of duplicity is that her entire face comes alive when she’s happy.

Unfortunately, that’s equally dangerous.

I stand quickly and place myself between Marion and the Watch Witch poster.

Let the sodding bint read the back of my bushy head!

Motioning for Marion to precede me, I gather the books to my chest with my left arm and follow her into the library proper.

The bookshelves would normally hide us from view immediately, but most are half empty – great gaping holes reminding me of the empty leer of a skull’s eye sockets. Book banning appears to be Umbridge’s third greatest passion in life, falling right after correcting so-called Mis-Behavior and imprudently splattering Pink across anything and everything that will hold still for it – and even some things that won’t.

I almost snort, but I catch myself and change it into a strangled cough. The empty shelves also mean that sound carries farther than it should.

Marion’s hand hovers above my arm, but she draws it back – she’s at least learned to suppress her tendency for Inappropriate Affection. “All right, Hermione?”

I fix my Proper Smile firmly in place. “Yes, thanks. These books mostly go down here towards the end.”

Leading us as far from the Watch Witch poster as possible, I finally stop and pretend to have difficulty reading a book’s spine while whispering, “What is it Marion?”

“Have you … have you got it yet?” She’s back to wringing her hands.

“No. No, I haven’t.”

Her expression falls, and if it stays like that, I’ll have to remind her about her Proper Smile before we walk back to the desk.

“But,” I continue after shelving a book, “I was able to get one of the banned ingredients last week. The problem is that I’m being Watched constantly at home now. I can’t seem to find either the right time or place for brewing.”

She lets out a breath. “Oh, I know you’re doing everything you can, Hermione. It’s just … well, it’s just that Simon and I … well … We just love each other so much … and we can’t … well, you know … and …”

Glancing around to make sure no one can see us, I quickly pat her hand before picking up another volume. “It’s all right, Marion. I’ll try as soon as I can, I promise. And in the mean time, you and Simon can … do other things, right?”

Her blush is very pretty, and her smile returns. “Oh, yes. There are other things, but …”

But not being able to make love to your husband because the Mediwitches told you you’d die if you ever got pregnant, and it’s illegal to have a contraceptive potion, even for situations such as this … yes, that would be difficult.

And how many Marions are there?

I make sure to fumble another book onto the shelf in front of me. It’s Eudice Erkenmeyer’s A Young Lady’s Guide to Proper Etiquette, and I’ve put it in the wrong location. But then, this one is filled with entire chapters on ‘Proper Nods’ and ‘How Deep to Curtsey’ – it deserves to be misplaced.

“All right,” I whisper, “ask me something safe that we can talk about the whole way back.”

At her panicked look, I offer, “Community Service.”

A relieved look graces her face, and she says heartily, “So, how’s your Community Service going?”

There may be hope for her yet.

“Oh, did I not mention? I asked to switch last week.” I cross to the next aisle and walk slowly up it towards the desk, pausing to place a book here and there.

“Really? What to?”

“Well, I’d finally made enough lacey pillows that I’m trusting in my Needle Charms much more so now. So I asked to be moved from Pretty Pillows to Elegant Embroidery.”

Marion makes an approving umm noise.

“Yes. It’s high time I began to think about decorating my clothing, and that seemed a wonderful place to start!”

Circe, I sound chipper enough to be the Announcement Witch!

How utterly revolting.

“Oh, yes! I’ve never had the skill for it myself, but my mum is a dab hand at embroidery. She’s the one who makes me all of these lovely blouses.”

I umm in approval this time and set the last volume in its place in the bookshelf nearest the desk. Her blouse is actually fairly nice for this day and age – it has only the smallest trim of lace, and the embroidered pattern on the front was done in only one color of thread, exactly matching the material itself. It’s too bad that the color happens to be Pink #3, but that can’t really be helped.

I turn to place myself between her and the Watch Witch poster again just in case her expression slips once more. “Well, Marion, I’m afraid I really must run. I worked late yesterday and missed the Two-Minute Handshake – I’d really rather catch it today.”

And I’ll be reported if I miss it two days running.

“Of course, of course. Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes. Good day.”

“Good day.”

As she moves towards her desk on the far side of the room, I make one last pass at straightening the papers on my desk before picking up my cloak. Glancing around one last time, I’m again struck by the thought that in a different life I may have liked this job.

If I hadn’t been forced into it as a career that’s Appropriately Feminine.

And if there were any good books left.

~~~

The press of pastel-covered bodies on all sides is a little overwhelming, especially since the petite woman in front of me is wearing a hat decorated with long, dyed pink feathers that are exceptionally fluffy. Every three steps or so I miscalculate her trajectory and end up with a nose full of sneeze-inducing fuzz.

The quick blat of a deafening “hem, hem” saves me, and the Announcement Witch’s syrupy voice follows. “Attention citizens. It is now time for the Two-Minute Handshake. Please stop where you are and proceed to share cordial greetings with your fellow citizens.

“And don’t forget, citizens, an enthusiastic handshake is a Proper Handshake.”

The Smiling man to my left turns, and he’s obviously taken last week’s Decree 307 to heart because he grinds my bones together as he pumps my hand in his zealous grip.

Umbridge is going to regret that she ever laid eyes on Pink.

My Proper Smile never wavers.



AN: Please review – it’ll save me from Thinking Pink!