Entry tags:

harry/snape

General Potions and Supplies [Uxbridge Office]; 1/3; Snape/Harry
Title: General Potions and Supplies [Uxbridge Office]; 1/3; Snape/Harry
Author: megyal
Rating | Word Count: R | 1995 words
Summary: Snape is quite discontent as a regional manager for a Potions' Supply Company.
Notes: Written in celebration of Snape's birthday...yesterday. Well, I started it for that and it rambled on. I also like this icon and it inspired the start of The Office-themed storyline that kind of jumped into my head. Not DH-compliant, at all.
Disclaimer: No money is being made from this work and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The characters do not belong to me.



Today was going to be a bad day for someone.

Someone had had the unmitigated gall to place their sleek red automobile in Snape's designated spot at General Potions and Supplies (Uxbridge Branch). Did they not see the sign? Had the skull-and-crossbones lost their meaning of death, disaster and dishonour? It didn't matter that Snape didn't have a vehicle to park in that space and would never drive one of those Muggle death-boxes to save his life; it was his, meant for the regional manager of this blasted company and he would be damned if he let one of the employees flout his rules like this.

"Good morning, Mr. Snape!" Janette, the curvaceous receptionist who was closely related to the Weasleys, judging by her flaming red hair and annoying personality, beamed at him as he pushed open the tall glass doors and stalked inside. "I hear it's a very special day for you. Happy--"

"Finish that sentence and I will charm away the top layer of your skin," Snape promised her with a nasty smile. Janette snapped her mouth shut. "Tell me, Miss Lane. Who has had the pleasure of parking in my space out front?"

"Oh!" Janette blushed prettily and Snape's glare made it go deeper. "The new employee... well, he's not really new, they sent him out from Head Office. Remember the memo, sir?"

Ah yes. The memo. The memo that had disrupted his day so thoroughly last week. The memo that had cast a pall across a perfectly boring day and had made him miss his lunch, it had upset him that much. He could still see the lines of doom: Mr. Harry Potter will be transferred from the Main Office Warehouse of General Potions and Supplies to that of the Uxbridge Office. Regional Manager Snape is asked to extend his welcome in ensuring that Mr. Potter settles in quickly to his new place of work.

Oh, the pain. The horror. Snape had been very close to owling in his resignation to the idiots in Head Office, but nowhere else was willing to hire him, absolved of his so-called war crimes or no. And this job paid fairly well. In a few years or so, he might save up to replenish the small savings taken from him as repayment to victims of the War and petition to the Ministry of Magic to open his own small apothecary in Diagon Alley, or even Knockturn.

He would still have to deal with General Potions and Supplies, since the quality of their ingredients was quite good, but he would be back to doing what he did best: brewing Potions; and, owing to the fact that the 'potions' part of the company was generally very poor, he could establish his own business with no worry of competition from this quarter. Also, no matter how tedious this position was, he simply did not see himself returning to Hogwarts. He would rather dye his hair red and walk the streets in sackcloth than to return to that den of puling children.

But while it was fine that he had taught more than half the employees at the office at school, (because his former glory as a frightening Potions Master was still imprinted in their brains), he thought it was beyond the pale for Life to hand him Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. In his office. Maybe this was some sort of punishment.

He might need a very stiff drink before the 10 am break.

***

"Good morning," Snape said in the morning staff meeting, in a tone of voice that wished that this day would just crash and burn. "I would like to take this time to remind all employees that the internal memo system is not to be used as a documentation of personal affairs. While our company has an oft-ignored policy against inter-office romances, I've so far quite happily turned a blind eye to your little notations, as long as your work is complete. But, and this is the part where you pay attention, Miss Willoughby, if I find another scrap of paper arriving on my desk by mistake detailing the unfortunate tryst of Dennis and Woodborough in the parking lot, I will cast a plague upon your office-space. Boils and fever. Do not doubt me on this."

Miss Willoughby, who worked in Customer Service and was a gossiping, meddling girl, looked mortified as her best friend (now ex-friend, more like) Adrianna Dennis glared daggers at her. Peter Woodborough contemplated the ground, his face aflame.

"Good. Now that we've sorted that out, you all might have heard that General Potions and Supplies is being acquired by the Jameson Group of Companies, who have claimed that there will be some restructuring and movement of employees. Which brings me to my next order of business." Snape clenched his jaw and counted to three, refusing to look in the corner where Harry Potter stood. "Our newest staff member, to be assigned to the warehouse under Mr. Davis' supervision is Mr. Potter."

There was a loud crash of applause and Potter waved bashfully from his corner. The young ladies bent their heads together, giggling over Potter (in whom Snape simply did not see the attraction: his face was far too narrow and his eyes too bright-green and his black hair too wavy and lush) and the men leaned over to shake his hand, sizing up Potter and giving him wide, open grins. Lovely; everyone was ecstatic to have a genuine War Hero in their midst. Never mind that Snape had a medal in a box under some bed in his house, a feeble thanks of the tiring work he had done in the war, no one had ever looked at him with delight as they were doing so now.

Well; forget that thought, anyway. He wouldn't want any of these people to look at him with such camaraderie.

"Meeting is finished. Everyone--"

"May I say something?" Potter's voice floated from the back and Snape glowered at him.

"You just did," Snape snapped.

"Yes, but. Um... I just want to say I'm very excited to work here. The Uxbridge office has the highest record of profit in the company and... well, it's nice to get out of London. At least I'll have room to drive!"

Everyone tittered. Snape smiled as well.

Everyone stopped tittering.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Potter. Thank you for reminding me about my parking space outside and your car currently residing in it."

"You mean... the one with the skull and crossbones on the sign? I thought that was a brilliant sign, by the way. That's why I parked there."

"At your own risk, of course. Risk being that all your tires are now flat."

"What?!"

"Have a lovely day, everyone. Off you go." Snape shooed them away and smiled in delight as Potter dashed in the direction of the main door. For his part, Snape walked contentedly to his office, nodding to his secretary, the only person in the office who was older than himself and almost as sour-faced.

He closed his door, spelled the glass-walls to a darker tint and glared at the paperwork on his desk.

He despised paper-work. It was a waste of time and yet he had to fill this out, report this, compile this, write that. He was in charge of two other offices and it was more repetitive than hectic, which made it boring; he was usually finished going through all the paperwork in a few hours, which left the rest of his day going through the company's Potions' catalogue and sneering at the concoctions that they offered. He had once applied as Laboratories Director and the answering owl to that had been a resounding no, citing some weak reasoning that the other Potions' Masters would be nervous around someone who had been Marked; and now that the company had been swallowed by the mysterious and ubiquitous Jameson Group, he doubted that any other application would be accepted.... which was why he had defaulted to the idea of having his own little store. Although he was fully aware that he would have just as much paperwork at his own business.

Oh well. Now, he brushed his hair out of his face, marched resolutely to his desk and began the proper work-day.

***

"Professor?"

Snape's head snapped up so fast that he felt his neck creak. Potter had broken down his wards, opened his door and had stuck that messy black hair into Snape's office.

"Potter, I have not been called Professor since I left Hogwarts many moons ago. And how dare--"

"You'll always be Professor to me," Potter stated quite mildly, slipping into the room despite Snape's thunderous expression. "Or Snape. Can't see myself calling you Mister Snape... or I could call you Severus? The manager at Head Office, I called him by his first name."

"Professor will be fine," Snape said in a cold voice.

"Your door shouldn't be locked and warded, you know. You're the Regional Manager, you should be open to all the employees and such. Like the manager at Head Office, he's a friendly bloke." Potter peered at the nearest wall, where the awards for Most Profitable Regional Office for three years running hung proudly. Potter stroked the corner of one and it wriggled in delight.

"You're proving to be quite annoying, as usual." Snape reached for a stamp and watched it ink itself carefully before he pressed it on the topmost paper on the pile in front of him. Usually, the self-inking stamps got a little too enthusiastic with the job. "I'm quite sure that Davis has quite a few duties for you all the way in the warehouse."

"Well, he said that because it's a slow day, I could spend the time getting to know my co-workers. Well, it was really my suggestion and he agreed, so you can stop plotting his demise."

"I would never waste my time," Snape muttered, shelving his mental plans to set a trip-jinx on that fool Davis.

"And since I know you already from the Order and the War and all that jazz, I figured I'd come here first and... you know, say hello."

"Hello," Snape deadpanned. "Goodbye."

Predictably, Potter ignored him.

"Why don't you work in the labs?" As he spoke, Potter took a closer look at the sickly-green plant Snape had inherited with his office. It tried to snap off the meddling boy's finger as he tried to pet it; Snape would definitely put a little more plant food than usual in it later. "You'd probably hate it at the Head Office labs, though, they're not very neat. But don't you think you'd prefer it there?"

"If this is the way you prattled on and on at the Head Office, then I shouldn't wonder why they sent you away. And for your information, the Head Office decided that my presence there would be most upsetting."

"They're idiots, then," Potter declared and then flushed as Snape stared him down. "I mean, if I were them, I'd hire you straight away. You were just miserable back in school, but you're good at what you do. You know?"

"That I do," Snape said slowly. Potter had just given him some sort of awkward compliment. There were few people that had ever willingly extended praises to him. He felt wretchedly warm inside. "Go away, now. I have forms to fill out."

Potter made a face.

"Paperwork. Awful stuff. Have a good day, boss!" Potter's grin was open and cheeky; Snape fought mightily with himself to return that smile and managed to look down his nose at Potter, quite a feat since he was still seated and Potter was buzzing around near the door. "And oh! Happy birthday!"

He was out into the corridor and chatting with Snape's secretary, leaving Snape to muse over another of his rules that Potter had so happily broken: No one wishes me a happy birthday.

TBC [I usually post weekly] =]