"Okay," said Meg to her new apartment, "there are definitely both pros and cons to this situation."
Frankly, she had expected more of an apartment in a magical school. What she got were two rooms-- a common space and a bedroom, not even a kitchenette (odd). Pros included exposed beams, real wood floors, lots of natural light, and a great location-- right next to the library. The apartment had two doors, one leading directly into the library, the other leading to the castle grounds outside; for the sake of work-life balance, Meg vowed to use the outside door and "walk to work." Cons threatened to outnumber the pros. Meg saw no washer or dryer, no real kitchen to speak of, no outlets, and no Wifi. Also, the mattress of the small bed in the bedroom was rather lumpy, more like a futon mattress than anything else.
It was a lot of cons.
The outlets and Wifi would certainly be a problem. Meg was well and truly shocked that, in the year 2021, this great and glorious castle was so disconnected, literally and figuratively. But this would be her third apartment, and she knew very well that all apartments come with some quirks. Her first apartment in Boston had had several roach infestations and a neighbor above her that chose to work out while blasting reggae. The apartment in Scotland that she had just moved out of had sported a gas stove that only lit when it felt like it, as well as some animal scuttling through her walls. So at least this place was on par with her past experience. Maybe there was a better Wifi signal somewhere else in the castle.
The afternoon was young, and with little else to do, Meg decided to try to walk the grounds and see if she could find a better place to get her data working.
She used the outside door to poke back out onto the grounds. It was a beautiful late August day, fall just beginning to whisper into the air. Squinting up into the sky, she could see the tiny black splotches of owls soaring in and out of one of the towers, blurs against the blue.
As she walked, Meg opened up the notes app on her phone and started tapping out a list. Call electrician. WiFi router. Ask about kitchen?? There was something she was forgetting; she felt it tapping impatiently on the edge of her brain. After squinting at the gold-rimmed foliage for a moment, she returned to her list: Figure out the magic thing.
Stepping outside the stone walls of the castle improved Meg's data signal, and for the heck of it, she sent a text whizzing off to Mel: Made it to Hogwarts in one piece and trying to settle in. Would love to stay in touch? Such a blatant bid at friendship felt a little risky to her, but the newness of her surroundings and the desire for connection pushed away the discomfort.
When Meg looked up from her phone, there was a giant owl sitting on the fence, staring at her.
It hooted. She screamed.
And then she remembered where she was. Magic owl. Not rabid-daytime-owl.
"Sorry," she said. "It's been a crazy day. You startled me."
The owl fluffed its feathers indignantly, its heart-shaped face somehow severe. It stuck its leg out, a sizeable piece of parchment rolled tightly there. Meg carefully plucked it off of the barn owl's leg. There was Minerva McGonagall's precise script:
Margaret,
Welcome to Hogwarts. The school year begins on September 1, when our students return. Classes resume the following day.
I have invited the previous Hogwarts Librarian, Madam Irma Pince, to meet with you this week, so that she may explain some of the duties and requirements of this position. Additionally, I would like to meet with you myself prior to the start of the academic year to discuss your salary and your expected behavior in the position. Please send me your availability after your meeting with Madam Pince.
