"Yes, well," Dreogan said, laughing as he laid Abby's bejeweled Droid down on his desk, "we may both have them," he said, looking down to his forlorn, little black flip phone on his desk, "but mine's certainly not nearly as done up." His eyes crinkled in amusement as he considered his prepaid phone, beside her pink-and-silver rhinestoned one.  "Here," he said decisively, handing hers back to her.  "I don't think he'll be able to handle the comparison without a fit of jealousy."

Dreogan was careful not to judge, but did place a good deal of emphasis on first impressions.  Sometimes the strongest impressions were those that prevailed when you did not have much other information to come by.  And aside from the fact that Abby was the youngest sister of his former-colleague Trevor Reid (who, he thought not for the first time, he was glad to have reported and co-investigated anonymously) and Professor Aileen Reid, he didn't know much about her.  But she liked pink.  And smiling.  And saying "Oh!"  and even once, she had crooned "Soooo cute!" when Tabitha, his cat, had decided to curl up atop Dreogan's second guest seat.  The Egyptian Mau, pleased at the requisite praise and worship, had closed her eyes happily, purred, and fallen asleep.  Abby Reid was enthusiastic, easy to please, and very easy to talk to. Or at least, be talked to by.

"So," he said, going back to looking at her resume--very short, and in a flowery, swirly script.  "I'm seeing a lot of good subjects of study on here but..." he evaluated her over the curled parchment, "no Muggle Studies?  What made you apply for this internship? Besides," he said, giving a fond sort of smile, "your love of technology."

Abby took her phone back, pleased that he seemed interested in it. She liked this man so far. He had an easy, kind smile, he listened to her babbling, and he appreciated cats and mobile phones. If Mr. Eleor wasn't careful, she was going to add him to the list of 'wonderful men who should be featured in Witch Weekly'. His brother had been, Abby knew. This 'other Eleor' was next!

Watching him look over her resume, which she had perfumed with a faint, lilac scent, and decorated in fancy script (Aileen had suggested removing the doodles), Abby bobbed her foot with a combination of nerves and energy. This was her first interview. She tended to avoid work, not go after it. But Abby had never quite let herself want something like this before, had never imagined walking into the Ministry as someone who had a right to be there, with goals and purpose. Her older sister was up in the Atrium, wearing a hole in the floor as she sipped her tea, while Abby was the one with the interview!   

"Jonas Trevelyan. And Sasha," Abby answered promptly, giving him her two reasons for applying.

She smiled, and explained further, "I want to try something new and I've never had the chance to work here before. I got into muggle technology and things because of the cool people I met, and I want to do more of it and learn more because," Abby tilted her head to the side, unable to think of professional and sophisticated reasons. "I like it. It's fun! It would give me the chance to meet other squibs, and muggles, and to feel like I'm doing something important. And if you need someone who can talk to people I can do that!" 
 
A sudden idea formed and she grinned. "I not only like to talk, but I like to text, and tweet, and send owls. Which means," Abby paused dramatically. "If I get this internship, you might just see a Wizarding Spacebook!

She giggled. "Wait. MyFace!"

Sasha and Jonas.  It was unsurprising--except, perhaps, Sasha a little, as he hadn't spoken to the boy much (Dreogan scrolled a little note down on a spare piece of parchment to owl the boy soon)--but Dreogan did his best at appearing impressed--and even a little surprised. 
 
"Both very good reasons," he praised the recommendations.  He hadn't expected an applicant like Abby. He had more expected the sort like Sasha: troubled to be straddling the divide between Magical and Muggle, yes.  But more like Sasha: studious, a bit academic, and analytical.  Research-minded.  Like Eldwynn, his former assistant, had been.
 
But with the unexpected came new, fresh ideas.  Abby was certainly drawn to a different side of Muggle-Mage culture--less policy, and education reform, and social issues like genocide, and more, well, pop culture.  Still, it was not something to dismiss so readly.  Dreogan smiled.  "Well, you know, you may be on to something, there with the social networking."  Abby'd meant it as a joke; Dreogan knew that.  But many people had thought that this whole office was a joke at times--and it was certainly going places.  Why could not her joke do the same?
 
"Something that we should certainly consider is how young people at Hogwarts can stay in contact to people are out of reach--either because they live far away, or because they don't have access to the Magical world.  "For all that it would seem to make sense, owls don't exactly 'tweet,' and it seems you can only communicate with one side or the other.  Computers don't work at Hogwarts, and neither do mobiles. Then of course owls and eagles don't even work for some wizards--if they're far enough away, or," another amused smile, "allergic.  And I can't see too many Muggles carving out owleries in their attics..." he frowned, already considering. "But surely there must be some way for the young people at Hogwarts to stay in contact with people who are otherwise out of reach. Maybe then, young people wouldn't think they had to 'give up' part of their lives when they went away to school."
 
He regarded her thoughtfully.  "How have you stayed in touch with your friends at Hogwarts? It can't be easy."  And this conversation right now--contemplating life inside the impenetrable walls of Hogwarts--couldn't have been easy, either.  "And yet," he said, tilting his chin upwards, "I would venture to say you're quite a bit connected and aware of what goes on, to be keeping close contact with so many."
 
Well. She had named two. And perhaps he ought to be examining that a bit further. As well as her qualifications, but from the start, Dreogan knew that this wasn't an interview.  Dreogan would involve nearly anyone who had the time and the interest for his office.  It was only a matter of determining how. 
 
Time to assess problem-solving skills.  "Say that you are a Muggle little sister to a Hogwarts student." He regarded her across the desk in his best "interview face."  "You're wanting to write to your sister.  How--have you considered any ways that we, here at M.A.O. could make that possible?"

"Oh, I just send lots of owls," she explained with a wave of her hand. Abby had always lived in wizarding homes and had access to an owlery.

A muggle little sister. Abby grinned to hide her slight unease. Since she’d lived it, it was all too easy for her to imagine being stuck at home while older siblings went to Hogwarts. People assumed she hated this, which was true, but they also tended to assume that she had an innate ability to understand muggle concepts, technology, and people, just by virtue of being magic-less. She was still a Reid though, and still had an inkling of family pride.

Of course, Mr. Eleor was asking for the purpose of this interview. He wanted to hear her opinion about a hypothetical situation.

"Maybe that’s what I mean, by like, a spacebook. Maybe I wasn't joking as much as I thought," she shrugged and smiled. Few people took her wackadoodle ideas and jokes seriously, and Abby was intrigued by the problem he presented.

“Ok,” Abby shifted in her chair as she prepared to launch into her answer. “So, you know those things that we had as kids, right? Those secret silly message things? You use,” she made air quotes, “'invisible ink' to write something on one piece of parchment, and then it shows up on a different piece of parchment. But you can only write a few lines, and you have to keep both notes in the same house for it to work, basically. Which sucks.”

She hesitated for a moment, imagining Aileen scolding about using ‘sucks’ during an interview.

“But if we could make it work long distances, and have it transfer a lot of writing, that would be brill! Could you imagine?” Abby grinned. “The little muggle sis could write a letter using special parchment and a special quill, and then allll the way in Hogwarts, what she wrote could appear in like, this letter book. And the big sis would write back, and it’d show up in the muggle home, too.”

Abby loved to collect fancy quills and colorful parchment anyway, and thought it might make sense for muggles to depend on the materials themselves.

“No owls. Faster than owls, even.”

Another shrug. “But if you do need owls,” Abby rambled on, “Someone could figure out a standard visiting time for owls to fly to muggleborn homes. Pick up packages and letters, so they don’t have to depend on the student writing home to be able to write back. If you include a little instruction booklet for the sister, so she knows important things, like what treats an owl likes, how to attach a letter, all that basic stuff, and make it cute, then that could make things easier.”

She looked at him, hoping he liked it. “You think?”

Dreogan caught the brief, fleeting expression of uncertainty--or unease--at the proposed roleplaying.  Which had, perhaps, been a bit of a gaffe on his part.  Certainly Dreogan noticed that Abby placed a verbal distance from the hypothetical Muggle sister and herself, yes certainly a gaffe on his part--and a sort of revelation of basic assumptions on both sides: on his part, that Abby--who was, after all, his staunch former-colleague's little sister--would feel comfortable sympathizing with Muggles to the level of self-identification, and on hers--doubtless attributable to her upbringing--that there was anything to be ashamed of at all in that.  He exhaled softly.  Cultural shifts were never easy.  Or as quick as he would like.  He supposed he could start on the individual level--though that seemed, in ways, like a sort of Chinese water torture, when all he wanted was to rip the dam out and let the levee break.  ... It did not work that way.
 
At her problem-solving, Dreogan smiled kindly.  "That does seem to work well--I've actually seen it. A very gifted witch I know, who in fact now works in this office, corresponds with her Muggle husband at home through a similar sort of notebook.  But she had to construct it herself, which I understand was quite timely.  Do you think, if Flourish and Blotts were to carry it, students and families would buy it?"  He leaned back in his chair.  "And not just Muggleborns, I hope.  It would be useful generally.  We don't really want--the sort of accomodations we hope to give should not single people out."  A mark of shame, to be forced to use a magical notebook.  Much better to be one of the few enviable individuals to have a much-coveted piece of technology.
 
Dreogan was doing his own brainstorming, silently.  They had some funds--modest, but they could certainly utilize them for a project like this, a marketable project like this.  Guaranteed loans offered to product developers and vendors, subsidized costs for supplies, and funding for research...
 
Dreogan took the time to write down four lines of text noting this line of thinking, for follow-up later.  "The owl courier system doesn't seem a bad practice, either." Though a little less likely to be adopted wholesale by Muggles.  To his knowledge, "instant messages" were a familiar practice in the Muggle world, though on a sort of technological notebook.  Carrier pigeons--and owls--were not.  It was likely the notebook would create more interest in both communities: in the magical, for its novelty and its forward-thinking technology.  In the Muggle world, for its familiarity.
 
Off-track, Eleor.
 
He regarded Abby thoughtfully a moment.  To meet the Ministerial requirement of an intern, the intern needed to be a student--a magical student.  "Well. You clearly have a lot of ideas--and I would be curious to hear about more.  But I want to make sure that you would be available to commit yourself to the internship program.  The requirements, Abby, state that this will be a full-to-partime commitment.  I didn't expect many applicants for the autumn, and I want to make sure that this internship would not conflict with your studies. How is your education constructed?"
 
Dreogan knew somewhat of that--his mother was a tutor for many squibs and pre-Hogwartians, as well as a continuing education instructor.

"Really? Wow," Abby leaned forward in her seat slightly, very interested to hear that a witch had already created a notebook like the one they were discussing.

From experience, Abby knew he had a point. Products directed toward just squibs, for example, were only bought when absolutely needed and might as well get carried around in a brown paper bag. If they marketed the notebooks as a cool, hip thing, kids would be proud to have one.

"When you put it that way, students would buy it. I could see them using it at Hogwarts, too. Pretend they're taking notes in class, when they're really - nevermind!" Aileen and the other professors would love that! Abby resisted an evil grin. But no, she was not going to get the product banned from Hogwarts before it had even gotten a proper following.

His note-taking was reassuring to see, and when he asked her about her availability at the Ministry, her face lit up. That had to be a good sign!

"Does this mean I don't have much competition?" She teased in a hopeful tone. "I was looking forward to sussing out the next interviewee and giving them the eye when I left, too" she mimed a narrowing of the eyes, and grinned.

Right. Professionalism! "Anyway, my study schedule is super flexible," she reassured him. "Tutors generally meet with me at home in the afternoons, but I can ask them to come in the evening, or during the weekends, or to do... less studying." Despite herself, her eyes brightened at the thought. She liked the muggle classes she'd been taking for a short time with Sasha this summer, and the thought of getting back to individual tutoring in the fall didn't appeal to her much.

"If I got the internship, I'd make it my first priority, Mr. Eleor," she nodded, looking a touch more serious.

Those words felt odd, coming out of her mouth. Abby was optimistic, but also nervous, and wasn't sure she believed them yet. What she wanted most was the chance to see if she could be good at this, if she liked it, if this was something she'd want to continue doing for longer than a few months. She wasn't going to tell him she often flaked out when things became too difficult or she was afraid of failing. If worst came to worst, he'd find that out soon enough.

"No," Dreogan said slowly, eyebrows raising.  "It means you are competitive," he gave a slow, encouraging smile to her.  "But not the sort to warrant 'eyeing.'"  His face became a bit sterner, but there was a teasing smile as he also narrowed them.  Abruptly breaking eyecontact, he pushed back in his seat.  "We can't forget: M.A.O. is a strictly 'no-evil eye' zone."  As though to prove his point, Dreogan gestured to a narzar--a blue glass eye--mounted on the wall; a protective amulet against the evil eye.

Dreogan held up his hand when she began to talk about the flexibility of her courses, and-- he had to stop that train before it derailed entirely.  "That is not what I meant."  Upon principle, Dreogan did not like the idea of less studying.  Studies were the singlemost important step to a young witch--or squib's--professional and intellectual development.  No amount of real-world experience could truly ever replace it.  Though she seemed a bit eager for it.  Most young people at the age of 15 would be.  Dreogan himself had dropped out of school at about her age, and had always regretted it.

"This internship is supposed to work very much in conjunction with your studies.  Originally it was intended to give you hands-on experience over the Summer of what you learned during the school year.  We do a lot, here, and so  there are many, many ways to tie in your courses: History of Magic, Muggle Studies--those can come in handy.  We've decided to interview during the school year because it is possible to do a bit of 'double duty,' so to speak. It will just take more coordination with your tutors."

"So, Abby--are you familiar with the differing roles we play here at M.A.O.? What have you heard?"

Though Abby saw that Mr. Eleor had a serious, soulful side (like his wonderful brother!), he played along well enough to encourage her sense of humor, and Abby nodded, trying not to giggle at the 'no evil-eye' zone.

Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly when he told her that her studies were supposed to support and work with the M.A.O internship, so she couldn't shove her tutors aside so easily. The hands-on experience sounded like it could be fun, fortunately.

"Oh," her eyes widened. So this was the part when she was supposed to show what kind of knowledge she had about the department! Aileen had warned her he might ask her that.

"Well, there are people who reach out to muggleborns and their parents, right? Like you were talking about the owls and the notebooks. Which is good because it's easy to get lost in the shuffle, otherwise. And you have classes here, don't you? Maybe that's another way to tie in the stuff I've learnt with tutors." If it was a group class setting, Abby would be willing to try it.

"Then you've got people who are going to do surveys, so you can find out what's needed and start really brill projects like the SpaceBook," Abby grinned.

"What else... I heard something about cases. Working with Level Two, where your brother is?" Abby said hopefully. "If you need someone to run errands there... pick me!"

She shot him another unabashed grin, ready to jump on any excuse to visit Mr. Hunky and The Redhead.