The Marauders: Year Six #Wattys2017

Not Hiring

Not Hiring

In time since his release from Azkaban, Jasper had suffered untellable nightmares. He would wake up screaming into the night and Edgar would hear him from the next room and run in to check on him and find Jasper reduced again to his mantra of "I didn't do it" and he would flinch and cry if Edgar tried to rouse him out of it... and when he couldn't, Edgar would whisper, "I'm here Jasper, just right here if you need me, okay?" and he'd sleep on the floor by his brother's bed and listen to his mumbling because hearing that mumbling here, in the tiny flat that they now had in London, was better than imagining Jasper far away in Azkaban.

But the nights were not the only time that Jasper Odair seemed haunted.

He'd been granted some money by the Ministry - what was supposed to be some sort of retribution for being given an unfair trial and sent unfairly to Azkaban (as though galleons could undo the suffering) - but between the cost of rent for the flat and food and essentials that he and Edgar needed, the money was quickly being spent and Jasper knew it wouldn't hold out for long. So he had forced himself to be brave and apply for jobs - he'd tried every shop of Diagon Alley, but most of them knew he'd been in Azkaban, they recognized him from the newspapers or else the moment they read his application, where he was required to reveal that he'd been to Azkaban, they would turn him away, even if he explained the situation.

"Once you've been there, you ain't never the same," said the hiring wizard at Quality Quidditch Supplies, "Guilty or not."

"Sorry, we ain't hiring no criminals," muttered the owner of Eeylops.

"The position's been filled," the woman at Flourish and Blotts said.

"We're just not hiring," said the manager at Buford's as he tried to discreetly hide the Help Wanted sign in the window from view.

Jasper fell into a seat outside of Florean Fortescue's heavily and buried his face into his elbow. The smell of freshly baking waffle cones drifted around him from inside the shop, making his stomach growl. He had some silver sickles in his pocket that he could spend on a treat, but he didn't want to use any of his money frivolously - eventually, these could be the last silver sickles he had and if it came to that point, he didn't want to be knutless, watching Edgar cry for food and guiltily remembering the ice cream cone he didn't have to have... so he sat and cried into the crook of his arm, wondering what he was going to do.

"A muggle job," he whispered, "I'll be needing a muggle job." But he had no idea how to go about getting a muggle job. Was it like getting a wizard job? And what was he even qualified for in the muggle world? Anything?

Honestly, though, he wasn't much qualified for many wizarding jobs, either. Despite the Ministry's gift of a new wand as well as his financial retribution, and their offer to re-enroll him at Hogwarts, Jasper had opted to stay with Edgar instead. Edgar couldn't go back to Hogwarts, and Jasper didn't want him to go back to their mother's house alone... so Hogwarts hadn't even been a choice.

There was a gently nudge at his shoulder and Jasper looked up, his eyes red, to find Florean Fortescue himself standing beside him.

"Sorry, I'll go," he murmured, thinking Mr. Fortescue was looking to shoo away the boy taking up space in his parlor seating without having made a purchase. "I just needed to get out of the cold air out there and... I'm sorry..."

Jasper started to stand up, but Florean put a cup of butterbeer ice cream on the table instead. Jasper stared at the little pink striped cup and bright green spoon sticking out of it. He looked up. "You look as though you could do with a cup of cheer," Mr. Fortescue smiled. "On the house."