An Interesting Job

AM: First attempt at 2nd person view, I'm curious as to what people think of this, its going to be short, three chapters at most.

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You walk down Diagon Alley deep in thought, your father is sick, very sick; the money for treating him has almost run dry. He forbids you from taking a loan on the house saying that it was the one thing he had worked for so hard, and fixing it up had been his life’s work since mum died when you were little.

He tells you to let him die, to save the money to live off of, but you can’t do that. He’s daddy, the only one you have in this cruel world, no other family, a few friends maybe but that’s it. The gold in your pocket is heavy on your body as well as your mind, knowing only a very small amount remains in the family vault, only enough for another month of treatment, at most. You know that you have to earn more money, you just don’t know where. You’ve tried both Hogsmead and the Alley, not even an interview. Since Voldemort has returned no one is willing to hire anyone, you’ve looked.

You’ve tried the muggle world, but they are having problems as well and the lack of any muggle documents reduces your prospects to nothing. As you walk past the empty square where dad would buy you ice cream after your yearly school supply trips, you check the public posting board, more out of habit than hope. You glance over the ministry warnings about death eaters on the loose, safety precautions, the latest sales and the like; you sigh and begin to turn away when a flashy notice on the corner catches your eye.

Charmed bright orange and flashing it is a wonder you didn’t see it at first, it stood in stark contrast to the dab parchment yellow of the rest of the board.

Help Wanted

Your eyes widen at these words, but they probably want a specialist, someone with the training that you don’t have. You continue to read further.

The Weasleys Wizard Wheezes has one (1) position open for greeter/ stocker, must be of age, inquire at…

It gave the store’s address, part of the Alley you rarely go down. It’s that new joke shop the Weasley twins opened. They probably already filled it but you have to ask. You hurry down to where the shop is, you find it standing out like the flyer in bright colors, almost mocking the dark times we’re in.

Your palms start to sweat as you open the door, hearing the bell ding to announce your arrival. The place is somewhat empty, with it being so early in the morning, only nine o’clock; the store only having opened a half hour before.

One of the twins emerges from behind a shelf, holding a box. “Hello Miss, can I help you find anything?” he asks, while setting the box down.

“Yeah, I’m here about the flyer you posted.” you say trying to hide your nerves and desperation.

“Oh well, come with me then” he says, not looking very happy you’re there. He leads you past the shelves and racks containing all kinds of things, to a door with a panel saying ‘employees only.’ He takes you down the hallway knocking on a door marked ‘storeroom one’ “Hey Fred, another girl is here for the job, watch the front for me a minute.” He calls into the room, and you hear an affirmative replay.

Dread floods you, how many have applied? You gulp as he leads through a door marked ‘office.’ He sits behind a desk and motions for you to sit in the chair in front of it, you do so shakily.

He takes out a piece of parchment and uncaps an ink well, before pulling out a quill. ‘So Miss, what’s your name?” he asks you and you tell him, watching him as he writes it on the parchment. “Date of birth?” again you answer, this goes on until all the normal questions are done.

He mutters a fact checking spell, the paper glows blue for a moment telling him that you were truthful in your answers. He places your parchment on top of a rather thick stack and your heart plummets.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I was going to take down that flyer this morning but I forgot. As you can see there were quite a few people that applied. However I do have a way of making sure you get the job… however you may not like it, if you don’t I won’t hold it against you when I make my choice.”

Your heart is pounding, what could be so bad; if it guaranteed you the job… “What is it?” you ask, trying to keep your voice unreadable.

He smiles a full toothy smile “Have you ever heard of the muggle phrase, ‘casting couch’?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Well my dear, it’s simple. You have sex with me and the job is yours, right now; I’ll burn the other applications.” He says. Surely this has to be a joke, and you shift uncomfortably. When no punch line comes you know he’s serious.

Thoughts race through your head, should you do it? You’ve only had sex a few times before, with your muggle boyfriend during the summer between your fifth and sixth years, his family moved away while you were at Hogwarts and you never saw him again. It hurt badly but it was time to move on, with dad being sick though you don’t have the time to really look for anyone.

You know its wrong, using your body like this but if it’s between this and dad dieing because you ran out of money for his treatment, well the choice is clear. You just hope this doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass or that you have to keep sleeping with him to keep the job.

“I’ll do it.” You say, he grins and stands up, you wonder how it’s going to happen, there doesn’t seem to be any places to have sex on, nothing comfortable anyway. With a wave of his wand he clears the desk.

“Bend over it” he tells you, you know you don’t have a real say in the mater and you comply. He moves behind you, you can hear the floor creak as he moves. You can hear his breathing and then you feel his hand run along your spine. He quickly undoes the fastenings on your pants, and soon has them sliding down your legs where you step out of them. You are clad in just your shirt and knickers now, the knickers don’t last long as he reaches under them to cup you. He knows just where to touch to have you moisten for him. He slides the garment down your legs and again you step out of them.

You know it’s coming now, there’s no foreplay, and no teasing like you’re used to. You hear the sound of a zipper and the thump as his heavy pants drop to the floor. You also hear him mutter a contraceptive charm; at least he thought of that. He grabs your hips and aligns himself outside your entrance. “Last chance to say no.” he whispers in your ear.

“Do it” you say, the quicker it was over with the better; you could go home, scald yourself in the shower and cry. He complies and you’re pushed forward into the hard wood of the desk as he enters you fully in one stroke. It had been awhile since you were so full, and he’s much bigger than your old boyfriend, and you’re angry at yourself for making the comparison.

“Merlin you’re tight” he mutters as he withdraws only to thrust forward again, driving you hard into the wood once more. You grip the edge of the desk for dear life as he pounds you, hard and fast. You’re sure to have bruises on your legs where you’re hitting the table but you don’t care because it feels good. You hate yourself for liking it but it had simply been too long since your last release.

The room is quiet expect for the squishy sounds of your joining, the desk creaking and his occasional groans. He speeds up even faster and you bite down on your tongue to avoid calling out, you won’t let him know how good that feels. One hand leaves your hips and makes it’s way to where you are joined, he finds your clit like an expert and you wonder how many other girls he has had bent over this desk. A few motions on your nub however send those thoughts far from your mind.

You give up and finally let a small moan escape, he twists harder on your clit in response, and you know it isn’t going to last much longer. His thrusts are growing erratic and start to lose their timing, signs you learned meant the man was close.

You let out a squealing shudder as your pleasure crests over you, your muscles constricting around him, just as you’re coming down, you hear him groan, and feel him still, as he fills you with the odd warmth and wetness of his seed.

He pulls out when he is done, staying inside until every last bit of his come is milked out. Before you can gather enough wits to move you can hear the sound of his pants being zipped up again. That was the best fucking shag of your life but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him that. You move finally and find your garments in a pile near your feet. You can feel his eyes on your still naked sex, now leaking his seed; you hurry to pull your clothes on.

You watch as he pulls the stack of applications, removes yours from the top and puts them in the waste bin. He points his wand at the bin and mutters “incendio” and you watch as they burn up before he puts out the fire with water from his wand.

“Can you start on Monday?” he asks with a grin, “oh and welcome to Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.”