POV Marie Stone
The door of one of the old shops in Knockturn Alley opened, the bell rang, and the woman who stepped inside jerked at the unexpected sound, then raised her head, saw the cause of her consternation, exhaled, and closed the door. To her utter surprise, the first thing she saw were two tall stone statues of muscular men with intimidating grimaces.
"Why are they here?" — The witch's mind raced as she entered a small, pleasantly lit hall where, under the last owner, there had been a massive, high counter.
Now there was a desk, and behind it a shelf, almost empty, with only a few neutral books. Along the walls were simple-looking but solid chairs for waiting, and on one of the walls was a wide bulletin board with a list of prices and small print explaining the details. In the far corner of the room was an ornate wrought-iron stand for potted flowers, of which there were at least a dozen.
In general, the place was very pleasant, no frills, clean, bright, which made the old scarf and broken shoes look even worse than they really were. The woman was ashamed of her appearance, but life in Knockturn Alley quickly teaches one to prioritize small sums of money.
— Welcome. — She smiled at the middle-aged woman who came out of the side door, dressed in business attire.
— Good evening... — The woman was a little uncomfortable, but since the building had just been bought and an ad for an income opportunity had been posted this morning, she decided to check it out, since it's hard to make money in Knockturn Alley. — I followed the ad... — Unfortunately, there was no exact information on the flyer, so she had to pick her words as she went along. — ... it said there was a job...
— Of course, — a very calm but confident looking manager waved her hand and invited me to come to the table where she was sitting. — Have a seat. You are our first visitor today.
— What do you have to do? — she couldn't help but ask, but by default she was prepared for a lot.
— First, would you mind telling me what I should call you? — The calm, friendly tone was comforting and reassuring.
— Marie, Marie Stone.
— I am Clarissa Stewart, or Mrs. Stewart. — The manager ran her fingers over her wedding band. — So, Marie, you don't mind being treated like this? All right. You're here to make money, aren't you? All you have to do is touch your wand to the magic reservoir and charge it as much as you can or want. Depending on the amount you get, you will be paid according to the established norms. — The woman nodded at the sign. — Do you have your own magic wand? — Mari nodded.
In Knockturn Alley, a wand is one of the symbols of a person, for when a wizard or wizardess sinks to the level of selling a wand, they are no longer considered human. There are persistent rumors that such people are slowly disappearing from Knockturn Alley. Where they go is anyone's guess, but various body parts are for sale in some "dark" shops, and everyone knows it.
So Marie has kept her wand very carefully, and even buys a wand care kit once a year, even though it's terribly expensive.
— Now, you go through that door, — the woman pointed to the door she had just come out of. — and they'll explain everything to you. Go ahead.
Marie nodded, stood up, and slowly, though rather cautiously, went where she was told. Her fears were justified, for Knockturn Alley is full of dangers of all kinds, and people get used to looking for a catch in everything. Behind the door, however, was a friendly woman with a bright smile.
There was nothing dangerous in the small office: a similar desk, two chairs, a shelf of books, and a narrow closet on the other side. Next, the woman opened a small trunk on the desk and took out a small, fist-sized, transparent ball covered with a fine-mesh metal net. The principle was simple: touch the "storage device" with your wand and hold it until you feel tired. The sphere lost its original transparency and gradually filled with light and color.
When Marie felt her body begin to shake slightly and sweat appear on her skin, she lowered her wand and waited for it to continue. The woman picked up the orb with a rough leather glove and placed it in another box, or rather a kind of box, but unopened, with a hollow in the middle. As soon as the sphere was placed in the hollow, a complex pattern and incomprehensible signs flashed around it.
The mistress of the cabinet, however, was clearly aware of the readings. The woman did not hide her surprise, even gave Marie a strange look, but quickly became serious and placed the memory device in the cupboard.
— So, Ms. Stone, you've charged the drive to the standard four measures. One measure is two shekels. Your money. — The coins jingled in front of Marie and she couldn't believe it for a second, but then she quickly tucked the money away. She was about to say goodbye when the lady of the house spoke again. — Ms. Stone, please stay a while, don't worry, I just want to give you some information. — The woman smiled conciliatorily, noticing the visitor's anxiety. — The thing is, our office not only collects magical energy, but also looks for promising talents....
— Promising... — Marie grinned bitterly, taking the expression as a mockery.
— Please listen to me, Miss. — the woman continued calmly. — We offer permanent employment to wizards and sorceresses with a certain level of power. You will be provided with housing, free lunches at your place of work, and on-the-job training in your new profession. Payment will be based on your position and your physical and magical endurance. Interested in this offer?
— And what kind of work is it? — The witch asked suspiciously, still not believing, but still hoping.
— At the moment, the largest number of vacancies is for the planting of a large garden, exclusively with the help of magic. Other positions will open up later, and if you are willing and able, you will be able to move on to another position. Unfortunately, the apartment complex is still under construction, but there is already a dormitory, and by the end of spring, our employees will have their own personal living space. So, are you going to read the contract? — As if by magic, Marie had a double sheet of typewritten paper in her hands.
She realized that she was already in her hovel. Everything that had happened seemed like a wild dream: there could be no miracles in her life! However, the seven silver coins in her hand (one had to be given to the street watchman — a standard tax for life) said otherwise. As if through a fog, she remembered the agreement to visit the "office" tomorrow at noon to go to the proposed place of work for an orientation.
However, having received her money, Marie was still somehow convinced that there was no danger, so she had agreed to the trip. Besides, something deep in her soul was whispering to her: "Now everything will be all right, now everything will change for the better...". And the woman believed that inner voice. And she believed it even more when she was able to buy a used, but quite tolerable and warm winter coat, as well as some food for dinner.
[On that day, for the first time in centuries, Europe had not only a measure, which gradually evolved into the unit "ho," from "hoshino," the owner of the gathering place or "milking parlor," but also a means of measurement. Gradually, day by day, month by month, thanks to the work of the milking parlors, there would be a clear division of power among the magicians.
After a few years, even at the official level, a single standard for measuring the magical power of the gifted will be approved, with a standard unit of "ho". The magical society will experience an outbreak of unrest, because many "prejudices" of the purebloods will be confirmed, but no less will be disproved.
The magical world will remain turbulent and feverish for some time, until learned men and women reveal to the general public the results of long research on the subject of magical power and potential. However, in society, first in Britain and then in many other countries, magicians will have documents with official registration of power and innate inclinations, without which it will be very difficult to get a good job.
Politicians, as well as various "active members of society" from the magical world, will argue about this for decades to come, calling the innovations fascism, Nazism, and so on....