Moving back home where she had at least five sisters in the house at all times made it nearly impossible to get dressed. That on top of the fact that she was dressing for her first ever job interview made them especially eager, if 'eager' also meant 'critical.' On the plus side, more sisters meant more closet. She ended up leaving the house wearing a pair of Sonia's heels and one of Lucia's shirts.

Upon arriving at Madame Malkin's, Zia took a deep breath and then walked into the store with a cheery, positive look. She'd never been interviewed before, never having had a job -- so this was going to be interesting. It was only just now beginning to occur to her that this woman was going to ask Zia questions, and she couldn't just spaz out and ramble on about something her brother said once. This was a job!

With a bright smile she went up to the counter. "I'm looking for .... Well, I'm looking for Madame Malkin, I guess," Zia stammered, attempting to laugh it off. Relax, Zia! she encouraged herself. "I mean - I'm here for an interview?"

Cora had a lot on her plate at the moment.  Her Great Grandmother was on a trip to Italy to procure some fabric and she was taking control of the store for the next week.  On top of that, her grandmother was mad at her for the Runwitch campaign!  She was mad! It was completely ridiculous.  She had a huge opportunity that was going to inject some freshness into the store –if people liked it. 

Maybe she was just stuck in her ways.  Cora assumed that happened.  But, it was time to expand and move into a new realm.  It’d been ages since they were featured for high fashion.  The world of school uniforms was consistent but there was no risk.  She tried to talk to her about it… but Cora found it was like talking to a wall.  It’d just have to pay off first before she accepted that it was a great thing for all of them.  Unfortunately, the portrait wouldn’t let her hear the end of it either (even from the closet where Cora had stored her). 

Sitting behind the counter, Cora drummed her fingers against the wood and sighed, leaning her cheek against her closed fist – rings pressing into her cheek.  She distantly heard the bell on the bell above the door ringing and her eyes moved over to see a very brightly dressed young woman walking through the door.  She smiled and approached, which made Cora push herself up to sit straight. 

Frowning for a moment, Cora paused.  “Well, Madame Malkin herself… she isn’t here,” she explained lightly, “but… I suppose I can do it!” her frown shifted into a bright smile.  “I’m Cora,” she put out her hand to the girl, “and you are?”

As the words left her lips, Zia realized that Madam Malkin's had been around just about forever, right? She was pretty sure it had. Which meant that the original Madam Malkin was probably long gone. What a first impression, right? Luckily, the blonde woman who Zia was speaking to didn't seem to mind her slip-up so Zia did her best to swallow her pride and let it go as the conversation moved forward.

"I'm Zia.... Maurizia Piselli," Zia said, not sure if she needed to use her first name as a Working Girl. It hardly felt like her name at all. Maybe she was spoiled for never having had a job before, but her family was well-off and it had never really occurred to Zia to get a job. Employment was only a recent concern, as many of her classmates were discussing their prospective careers and Zia hadn't even given it a single thought. Until now, she'd been biding her time at Hogwarts just because... well... she was supposed to, and that's what everyone else had done!

 She smiled back happily at the shopkeeper. "I,um-" don't stutter! Zia heard her elder sisters' voices in her head. Zia stood straighter. "I was just looking for some part-time work, for the summer. I'm into fashion, so I thought this might be a good fit." To emphasize her point, she added a big smile. As she mentioned fashion, Zia became more aware of the outfit she was presently wearing, which mostly included items of her sisters'. In this instance, Zia kind of wished she'd trusted her own fashion instincts, since she was claiming to have an interest in the subject. Her sisters had probably been right, though, in demanding to pick out her clothes "since you usually leave the house looking like a bloody peacock," or so they said.

 The girl was certainly… bright colored.  Cora liked that upon first seeing someone.  Colors were important and knowing how to use them, that was even more important.  Granted, there were some things she could imagine wouldn’t go so well – the more conservative customers might object to such vibrant coloration, but younger clients – and people like Rascal Rosier – would quite like the bright young woman with the very fancy name. 

“Zia!” Cora repeated with enthusiasm.  That was cute – she liked nicknames.  She went by a nickname as well, obviously, so it wasn’t skin off her nose.  “Nice to meet you, Zia,” she added – cheeky smile aptly appropriate.  “So, what makes you want to spend your summer at Malkin’s?” she tilted her head to the side, regarding her. 

The girl seemed to stutter a little, which was funny - Cora was not scary.  She had nothing to worry about, really.  Cora was not her Great Grandmother.  But she said she liked fashion and that was pretty obvious, judging by her outfit.  She certainly liked a particular type of fashion and Cora could appreciate that.  Looking her over, there were a couple of things that she’d have to know.  But, she did have to make sure that the girl was at least a little comfortable.  “Well, liking fashion is very important, so excellent.” 

Shifting in her chair, Cora wanted to be comfortable.  “Do you have any experience?” she asked, “you know, with clothes… outside of wearing them,” she shrugged awkwardly, “you know – I mean, not like…” Cora was way more articulate than the teenage girl obviously and she took a moment to unknot her tongue.  “Like measuring and hemming and such?”

The use of her nickname -- which felt more like her real name, really -- made Zia feel much more at ease. She didn't feel the need to be so proper and robotic, and she relaxed in Cora's cheery presence. Were you supposed to like your boss? Zia wasn't sure. She had mostly heard people complaining about them, but this woman was far from unlikable. It made answering her questions much easier.

"Well -- I've never really worked before, so--" Zia paused, regretting the fact that she'd opened with her weakest point. "I wanted to get some experience. And like I said, I like clothes... I come from a big family, and I'm the youngest, so I... inherit a lot. A lot of stuff I have to alter and things like that." She added a smile for good measure.

Cora tripped over her words but Zia didn't mind -- it actually made her feel even more comfortable, if that was possible. She was certainly less afraid of messing up and saying the wrong thing. "Oh! Yes. My friend Lua and I, we started making festive house-themed scarves, we call our business Hoop Loops," Zia said. "I know how to crochet and sew, the muggle way too. And I'm starting to learn to knit, but it's pretty frustrating once you know how to crochet..." Zia was getting off-topic and she knew it. She refocused. "But yeah, since I inherit all those clothes, you know- I have seven older sisters, by the time they get to me they're stretched out in all directions." Zia laughed and waved her hands. She talked a lot with her hands - it was just the way you did things in Italy.

 “That’s just fine!” Cora remained bright and cheerful about the girl.  You didn’t need too much work experience to do things in the back or clean up.  That’s what her great grandmother would want to start her on anyway, until they could evaluate her skills. 

The official shopkeeper was much more attuned to detail than Cora was, so she’d wait for her assessment on skills, but she sounded like she knew how to do some cute things that could be useful around the shop.  Maybe she wouldn’t be in charge of doing much of anything, but a little fashionable and young blood in the store that couldn’t hurt. 

“That’s a lot of sisters!” Cora blinked.  She only had two brothers and sharing clothes had never been an option.  In a family that was linked to one of the most famous clothing companies in Wizarding England… hand me downs didn’t happen.  But alterations did.  You couldn’t been seen if you weren’t fitted correctly.  It was something she was very keenly aware of from a very young age.  She did like that this girl knew something of what she was talking about though. 

“Alright!” she clapped her hands together and popped her lips for a second, looking around.  “Let me show you some things and get you acquainted with the store a little.  When my great grandmother comes back she’ll want to talk to you too, obviously, but if I get you started then…” Cora grinned, “she’s really unlikely to turn you away.”  She slid off the stool behind the counter and motioned her to follow, “we’ll be getting a lot of school shoppers soon – so the uniforms need to kept especially neat and folded,” she breezed past the wall, waving her hand covered in rings toward the wall and racks.  “Everything is, of course, separated by house – mix ups are particularly bad and first year uniforms are at the very front.” 

“Then, if you move back, there are the dress robes – but those are usually for customers who have scheduled appointments, and regular robes are scattered from the front to the back, depending on the season.  Right now we’ve got our light weight robes out for the summer, unless of course someone requests something else… then they’ll be in the back.”  She blinked a couple of times and looked at her, “I’m not going too fast, am I?”

This interview was turning out to  be a lot more fun than Zia had expected it to be! In her head, she had imagined herself being taken into some back room, sat across from a large desk that she could barely see over, answering questions to an intimidating boss who was looking down on her, judging her.

Zia followed Cora around the store cheerfully, admiring the clothes as she did. "That's a lot of sisters!" "Yeah - I have five brothers too, and nieces and nephews...." the size of Zia's family always tended to shock people in London, but in Italy it wasn't too unusual. Her slight Italian accent probably gave her away. "They come to me to fix their clothes too." Zia laughed.

Cora mentioned that her great grandmother would need to approve of her hiring, which insinuated to Zia that she had gotten the job. She perked up even more. "Great, thanks!" She wondered how old this woman had to be to have a grown up great granddaughter. All of Zia's grandparents were deceased.

Nodding along with Cora's instructions, Zia did her best to memorize everything. There was definitely a lot she was going to have to learn. The uniforms were obviously important, and their sense made order. This would be a good place to get herself some replacement robes for her final year at Hogwarts, particularly if she got an employee discount!

"Does anyone ever come in wanting to look at the dress robes without an appointment?" Zia asked curiously, wondering if she'd have the opportunity to help a customer pick out an outfit. "What do I do if someone does haven an appointment... just come get you?" She wanted to be sure she did this all correctly. As a Ravenclaw, Zia was accustomed to asking a lot of questions to be sure she did the best job possible.

Cora couldn’t imagine having that many siblings.  She only had two and they were so far apart in age that they didn’t really overlap at all.  Plus, Cora had spent most of her time with her great grandmother around no other children whatsoever.  It’d been a lot easier for her family to manage the two boys with the girl out of the way.  “That’s good to know!”

It really was, even if again, she’d have to check out the skills there, it meant there was something to work with!  It wasn’t often you came across someone who knew the basics of needlework and repair.  “Maybe I’ll have you do something for me today just to check it out – I mean, after the tour,” she blurted out in her chipper voice. 

Everything was really put together nicely in the store, her great grandmother was a stickler for organization.  Cora put her hand to her face and her finger on her lip in thought.  “I mean, people do – but yea, you’d just come get me or my gramma – but…” she shook her head, “yea, you just want to get me if that happens.  I’ll handle it.”  She liked the questions, it made Cora feel like she was totally in charge and understood everything she had to do in this place. 

After all, she was gearing up for a huge spread in Runwitch and that meant she was moving totally on from this stage in her life (hopefully). There would need to be someone here to help with the store if she was off doing fantastic things all over Europe.  “You wanna see the back room?” she asked and then bounced toward the curtain that separated the front and the back – her grandmother didn’t like the look of a door and found fabric to be much more fitting. 

“This is where we keep the inventory,” she explained, “and extra fabric.  If something is being worked on, it gets kept on the rack in the back left corner.  We take them out when the clients come – either for fittings or to pick things up.  We also have the screens for measurements and the files back here.”  She motioned around to show the areas she was talking about.  “You don’t have to do a measure every time someone comes in – just if it’s been a while – or the kids.  Sometimes, you guys just sprout up from year to year!” 

She laughed and did a u-turn, flicking her wand at a scrap of fabric, a little pin cushion, and some thread.  “Follow – I have something for you to do.”  Well, she had lots of things, but Cora breezed quickly and moved back to the front.  She swung the items to the counter and set them down before summoning a stool for Zia to sit on in front of the counter.  “I just want to see your stitch work,” she explained and perched back on the stool behind the counter. 

“I’d love to see a slant hemming stitch and a vertical hemming stitch.  If you can do a blind-hem stitch, that’d be good too.”  Cora smiled wide, “if you can’t, it’s not a big deal.  I just want to see what you can do!” 

Zia's nerves were rapidly dissipating as Cora led her around the shop. This interview had been a success, and that she could say with confidence. Her biggest worry was that she'd be asked questions she didn't understand or didn't know the answer to and would end up looking foolish.

You wanna see the back room?"

"Yes!" Zia squeaked instantly. It was silly, but the 'back room' of a shop had always been an elusive, mystical place. Shopkeepers would enter the ominous Back Room and come back with whatever it was that you'd been looking for. For years she'd been curious about what one of these Back Rooms looked like. With magic the potential had to be limitless.

Following Cora to the room, she was surprised (and honestly a bit disappointed) by the simplicity of the room. As Cora explained the purpose of the room, it began to make sense to Zia. She was still left wishing there was an infinite room with an unimaginable amount of clothes.

Nodding along as Cora explained things, Zia did her best to remember it all. She had a pretty good memory and was a quick learner -- that was the territory of a Ravenclaw, after all, and she fit the reputation. Still, it was a lot to remember and the last thing she wanted to do was mess up now.

"Follow -- I have something for you to do."

Was it finally starting? Already? Zia's eyes widened. So this was it -- work. She obeyed her boss and observed the things Cora was picking up.

"I just want to see your stitch work.... if you can't, it's not a big deal. I just want to see what you can do!"

Relief spread through Zia's body like a warm mug of butterbeer. Oh, this was easy -- Zia knew how to do this. "No problem!" Zia chirped. She took the supplies and performed the request easily. Fashion had always been one of Zia's passions, even when she was a baby. With mainly hand-me-downs to work with, sewing was essential, and Zia was a dedicated learner. When it came to the subjects she was especially interested in, she was a downright workaholic.

She finished up the stitches, doing each one in a separate but parallel line to the last. She cut the ends of her thread with her teeth, something that had become second nature to her in her years of never having a pair of scissors around when she needed them. She handed the scrap of fabric back to Cora proudly, hoping (and secretly knowing) she'd done a good job. "Is that okay?"

Cora knew she could be somewhat of an overwhelming individual.  She came wrapped in florals and pastels, fluffy and preened to be as soft as possible, but once you got her started, she was just energy: and many different kids, depending on the situation.  She was a perfectionist, an artist, and a passionate person all around.  Despite the floating exterior, she liked to think she had an edge about herself. 

So, when the girl met her energy, Cora felt very energized.  She wanted to do something – finish a task or something while she was busy stitching.  Pursing her lips and tapped her pastel painted nails on the countertop rolling her eyes up to think about what she could do.  The register was set… she’d managed to organized earlier… Flicking her wand, Cora summoned some fabric and she quickly began to assemble some bow ties. 

They were actually quite popular these days and Cora could make them quickly.  With summer coming, she sifted through the little pile that had flown toward her and landed on the counter – so she pulled up the lightest blue and reached under the counter for a pair of scissors.  It wasn’t the sort of thing she even needed a pattern for anymore. 

Her fingers moved of their own volition, her eyes moving up every once and a while to check on Zia.  She was concentrated, her hands moved fast too.  That was a very good sign, Cora decided, and turned her eyes back to her own work.  She didn’t want to be pushy after all.  When she was tightening up the center of the bowtie, Zia called for her attention and held up the scrap with lines of stitches on it.  “Let me take a look,” she smiled brightly and pulled it closer to her face to examine it. 

The stitches were neat, mostly even – scrunches in the fabric were minimal.  The girl hadn’t been kidding when she said she’d had practice.  “These are good,” Cora complimented, “really.”  Another bright smile, “I’ll put these in your employee file,” she winked at her, “so I could show my great grandmother later – if she asks any questions.”  Cora winked and swiveled on the stool. 

“I mean, I guess I can get you started now if you’d like – or you can have a last day of summer holiday before you start working proper, you know?” she grinned.  “What would you prefer?”

While Zia was proving her sewing capabilities, Cora meandered about the shop. Since she didn't want to ruin what she was working on, she remained focused on her task and forced herself to lose interest in what her boss was doing. Schoolwork was one thing and fashion was another -- specifically, the latter was far more interesting to watch. Focus was important though, and the last thing she wanted to do was prick her finger. It seemed as if Zia would have to do this a lot -- concentrate while other people were working busily around her in the shop -- and so she'd have to work on her ability to remain attentive.

Cora admired her stitching once she was finished, and as she complimented them Zia beamed. If there was anything Zia really loved, it was impressing people. "Thanks!" she chirped gratefully with a smile. After Cora explained that she'd be putting the fabric in her employee file, Zia was finally forced to ask: "...So does that mean...?"

"I mean, I guess I can get you started now if you'd like - or you can have a last day of summer holiday before you start working proper, you know?... What would you prefer?"

So she had gotten the job! Zia brightened, her face growing hot with excitement. A final day of summer was tempting, but her determination to satisfy her boss was even more crucial to Zia. It was important that she showed that she was a hard worker. "I'd be happy to help out with whatever you need!" Zia said happily.

She was so eager.  Cora beamed – she certainly liked her.  Zia seemed like she would be a lot of fun to have around the shop and even though she was really young, she was closer to Cora’s age than anyone else in the shop, so they’d at least have some things to talk about – even if it was just about colors and fabrics.  She just knew she wouldn’t have the same old fashioned style as her great grandmother.

“You know what?” Cora clapped her hands in front of her, “I’m going to let you go today.  Enjoy – celebrate!  I’ll expect you in at eight o’clock in the morning tomorrow.”  It was a small kindness, and she needed some ideas to think about what she wanted the girl to do.  Plus she had to write her grandmother about it… so there was stuff for her to do before she could officially make this happen.  At least she’d have the scrap of fabric to include with her letter – an excellent stitching sample. 

Sliding off the stool she came around the front of the counter and put out her hand.  “I’m excited, Zia.”  She smiled and shook her hand firmly, “Welcome to Malkins’.” She bounced a little and grinned, "Now - you should go - I'm sure you have some friends you could meet at a pub and celebrate with."  A pause, then a nervous look, "Are you seventeen, I mean? Because that would be an important prerequisite.  If not... butterbeer or water... or candy?  Yes, suitable!"

Even though she offered to stay and help out at the shop, Zia was granted the freedom to take a last day of freedom. Tomorrow was her first day of work so she couldn't go overboard, but it was totally worth seeing if her boyfriend was up to anything.

"Thanks!" Zia said happily. Coralie appeared to be more than satisfied by Zia's attitude and the interview had gone better than Zia had expected. That meant that the interview had gone doubly better than her family had anticipated. They tended not to have much faith in her ability to do things on her own. Since she was the baby of the family, they didn't see her as very responsible or independent. This would prove that she was!

When Cora made a comment about Zia going to a pub with her mates, Zia couldn't help but look surprised. Her face carried every thought she had -- it was something she really hated about herself. Zia became concerned that if she wasn't seventeen, she wouldn't be allowed to work at the shop. She didn't know what had brought this thought on or why she was so convinced of its truth, but she lied and said "Oh - yes!" Zia wouldn't be seventeen until nearly the end of summer. August wasn't so far away - would she really be more equipped to work at a shop in two months? She could get away without needing magic here, she was a fast seamstress.

"Thanks, Cora. I'll see you tomorrow!" Zia bounced off merrily to revel in her final day of unemployment.

End