InsaneJournal

Who: Dulcinea Doge and Pansy Parkinson
What: Interviewing a prospective WICCA member
When: 26 January 1998, late afternoon
Where: Great Hall at Hogwarts
Warnings: None; these are ladies at school, thanks.



The WICCA contingent had taken over a corner of the Great Hall for the afternoon and would be staying through dinner, giving the students who were interested a chance to speak with the older women both in groups and privately one-on-one. There were a number of ladies of all ages present, including some of the professors who were members. Many of the ladies were in the Ministry, but some small business owners were also represented.

As one of the organisers, Dulci had been present at the table for the entirety of the afternoon. The dinner hour would be upon them soon, and then some of the ladies who had been unable to come during the day would join the group. There were several more hours before Dulci herself could go home to do the things necessary for the lead-in to the Macnair trial. It had been a long, if pleasant day.

Dulci was sketching out a few brief notes on the day's efforts so far when she noticed another young girl coming toward the table. It took her a moment to recognise her; at the gala all the students had looked much older than they did in their uniforms. Dulci smiled and pulled the correct name from memory. "Hullo, Miss Parkinson. How are you? I'm glad to see you here this afternoon."


That Pansy was one of the later arrivals was no accident; she could hide behind the guise of being very busy as a seventh year and a prefect, and that was true, but really, a fashionably late arrival made a lasting impression that those who’d come before could never hope to match. That was the hope, at least, and if Pansy had any doubt about her strategy, it didn’t show on her face.

Confidence, after all, was also key. She was an ideal candidate for WICCA, of that she was sure. It wasn’t enough, though; when she was done, they’d not just accept her, they’d bloody well want her.

“Mrs. Doge,” she said with a lovely, practiced smile (and if there was genuine excitement and a real desire to please in the expression, well, those were things the girl would have exorcised if she could.They weren’t seemly, but there they were.) “I’m doing wonderfully. And you? I’m sure you’re finding any number of likely candidates among our young women, yes?”

The combination of confidence and nerves that the seventh-years displayed surprised Dulci anew every year. She was sure she'd been that young and anxious once, before going into the DMLE, but it was so long ago that the idea was foreign to her. "Yes, I've had the pleasure of meeting with a number of young women whom I think would be valuable additions to our number. The class this year is very promising.

"I'm glad that you've come to talk to us as well. Please, do sit down, and tell me how you've been and how your holidays were." She gestured to one of the seats on the far side of the Great Hall table that WICCA had taken over for the afternoon.

This felt like an interview; or at least, Pansy imagined it did. She had no experience with that sort of thing, of course: some teenagers worked but the children of house Parkinson were never among them. It would have been gauche.

Still, she had no intention of sitting on her thumbs after graduation. Work she would, in some capacity; this was, she reminded herself, good experience.

“I’ve been quite well,” she assured as she sat and folded her hands, carefully lady-like, in her lap. “The holidays were quite busy, it’s almost a relief to be back at school. Though I must confess, I’m rather ready to be done with it,” she admitted carefully. “The rest of my life is calling, I suppose. And I’m quite ready to take it up.”

That was a common sentiment among seventh-years, and one Dulci had had plenty of experience with in adult life as well. She smiled and nodded at Pansy. "I can imagine. School has its uses and joys, but by the end of seven years, I can understand being ready to do something new and exciting. When I was your age, a lot of the girls took gap years if they could manage, just to extend their freedom a little longer. But that doesn't sound like the sort of thing you're looking for."

Her hands were on the table, where she'd been taking notes. Pansy could see that she kept a professional French manicure with nails long enough to be ladylike but short enough not to get in the way of anything she needed to do, like writing. The third finger of her left hand was bare, but she was wearing a simple hexagonal ring on her right hand. It complemented her robes, which were simple and well-tailored in a neutral sort of heathery taupe that set off her colouring.

"I remember that you were quite interested in the possibility of combining a career with family interests." Dulci left that ambiguous, on the grounds that she wasn't sure whether marriage and children were Pansy's goals for Pansy or her grandmother's goal for Pansy. "Do you have an apprenticeship for a profession or a position lined up once you've graduated?"


Neither a ‘gap year’ nor the prospect of quick wife-and-motherhood held any appeal for Pansy. In her Grandmother’s time, a seventeen-year-old had been practically an old maid, and a woman with a career was frowned upon. Times had changed, though, whether Maria Bulstrode realized it or not. Pansy had plenty of time to find a suitable husband; she had much less to establish the sort of respectable, enviable career she could now properly have.

“Extremely interested,” she agreed firmly, “though unfortunately I don’t. My grandmother has...encouraged me to keep my focus on my education through the end of the year, and to consider my future pursuits afterward.”

It wasn’t quite doublespeak, but Pansy’s meaning, and her hesitance to actually accuse her grandmother of stifling her in any way, were both clear.

"Ah." Dulci let that single syllable encompass a number of comments that she could make. "My mother felt the same way when I was your age. I think things are a bit different now, though, don't you? Young people have to arrange for good positions outside school earlier than their parents imagine. It's not too late to find a good position by any means, but it's certainly not too early to come to a firm conclusion about what you'd like to do with yourself. After all," and Dulci nodded to the uniform tie that marked Pansy as a member of Slytherin House, "if you want something, you do have to reach out for it." It wasn't Dulci's native idiom, but she'd been around enough Slytherins to pick up the methods of thinking and the manners of appeal.

"If you could do anything you liked in terms of employment, have you thought about what you'd do, Miss Parkinson? Where would you be in five or ten years? Inside the Ministry, at Gringotts, at St Mungo's? A private firm? Don't forget that there are all sorts of jobs. Gringotts doesn't mean cursebreakers only, and there are many people employed at St Mungo's who aren't Healers or mediwitches."


As large as Pansy’s ambitions were for herself, they weren’t terribly focused: she wanted to be powerful, to have a career with prestige and influence. She’d’ve never much cared what it might be.

Obviously a mistake; she could appreciate that now, as graduation drew nearer. Perhaps she’d always assumed that things would simply fall into place. They so often did for purebloods, after all.

“I’d like to do something...impactful,” she said slowly, obviously thoughtful. “Not Gringotts; I don’t think I’d make a good businesswoman, per se.” She spread her hands in a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug, just a little sheepish. “Though I would make an excellent barrister, I imagine.”

It deeply annoyed Dulci that so many girls were still left in ignorance of their options at this late date. Heads of house only had so much time and they were really supposed to be guiding students who had some idea of the options. As much as Dulci liked Maria, the idea that Pansy had never had her ambitions shaped was neglectful. She reckoned Maria thought Pansy needed guidance toward marriage and motherhood. That wasn't enough.

There was no criticism in her tone when she spoke, though."Barrister is a good career for witches with interest and talent. The DMLE welcomes barristers for the prosecution, which is often a potential route to the Wizengamot. The defence bar, such as it is, is more lucrative, but in recent decades has contributed fewer members to the halls of power. Though, if I may be frank--" and here Dulci offered a conspiratorial smile "--it's often wise for a witch to have an eye to the contents of her own vault.

"If you're more interested in travel, a barrister with International Magical Cooperation is likely to defend Ministry interests in front of the Wizengamot, but that can also lead to travel and work with the International Confederation of Wizards. Or perhaps to an Ambassadorship in some foreign country. So you see, there are many options if barrister is the sort of thing you're interested in. And it's not like Auror or Unspeakable, where you have to aim for the job from OWLs on at least to have a good shot."


Some of the uncertainty bled out of Pansy's expression as Dulcinea spoke, replaced by growing interest and the sort of avid excitement that only a teenager could be capable of. "I hadn't even thought of the international angle," she confessed, sitting forward a little, hands unfolding, no longer quite so proper. "That's brilliant. Though of course I love London," she added quickly, as if the possibility of a lack of total patriotism on her part might be noticed and cataloged.

"Everyone loves London," Dulci agreed reassuringly. "But travel is broadening. So perhaps we can look into finding a position for you in International Magical Cooperation. There are a number of young witches and wizards of good family who work there." She met Pansy's gaze and said meaningfully, "Families tend to like that, since it means a young woman is in the way of connecting with the right sort of gentleman, or at least his friends."

She thought Pansy was more than clever enough to read between the lines on that point. Maria could think what she liked, but Pansy, like Dulci herself, was not for locking up in the house with children. Perhaps whoever Pansy married would follow her.

Pansy's smile took on a conspiratorial quality at the implication. Clearly, Dulcinea understood her predicament. "In that case, I'm sure my grandmother would be thrilled at the notion," she agreed happily. "If it were presented in the right way, of course. I wonder if she might be suspicious of my motives."

Oh yes, Dulci knew how to play this game. She leaned in and dropped her voice. "If I may be so bold: a lady with your breeding and qualifications won't attract a superior husband by taking anything less than a first-rate position in your own right. Young men these days, or so I am told by mothers and aunts, expect a woman who has ambitions of her own, who brings something to the marriage. Wives may put their careers on hold for a time for motherhood, but without a significant interest outside the home, the foundation for a solid, respectful marriage isn't there.

"Things were different when I was young. Young gentlemen were content with a wife who was an ornament to the home." Dulci thought of her own ex-husband, who wanted nothing more, but did not let her smile waver. "But even someone like Narcissa Malfoy--" a name which Dulci suspected would resonate with Pansy Parkinson "--while she may not have a paid position, can be said to have a public life, a career, if you will, as a philanthropist. While one always hopes that one's husband might have a vault that deep, one cannot count on it. A woman has to plan her career for herself."

Pansy made a face; not much of one, but enough to communicate distaste. “I’d imagine a purely ornamental wife would be nothing but a burden,” she said in an undertone. “I’d never want to be such a creature. You make a very good point, Mrs. Doge,” she added, louder and smiling again, “and I’m sure my Grandmother might agree.”

Of course, she also might not. Maria Bulstrode was a great woman, in Pansy’s estimation, but she’d also had a willful daughter and did not countenance much dissent in her grandchild. That she might be totally against the idea of a career for Pansy no matter how it was presented was a possibility the young woman needed to prepare for.

She truly didn’t know what she’d do if she had to make that choice.

“At any rate,” she continued, steering the conversation back toward safer waters, “I know for a fact that she dearly hopes I’ll be admitted into WICCA’s ranks. As do I.”

"Oh, I'm sure that you're a very good candidate based on our discussion so far." But this was the moment to emphasise the second, and honestly more important, aspect of WICCA to Pansy: the idea of community service. As a young woman, Pansy was in a position to receive help, particularly with careers and the like. But as the daughter of a wealthy and socially prominent family, she was also in a position to give. "But I'm also interested in your views on helping the less fortunate. For instance, we raised quite a sum for the school and St Mungo's at the holiday ball you attended. As a student, you certainly have an idea of where the school needs assistance. Places where your fellow-students, perhaps in other houses, could use financial help. Areas where the school could use the purchase of some piece of equipment that everyone could use. What sort of improvements would you suggest?"

Pansy was, of course, prepared for such a question. She’d have been a fool not to be. WICCA was, after all, a philanthropic group; and Pansy was not a fool.

Still, she took a moment to sit quietly, thinking, less about her answer than how to phrase it.

“I’ve always thought that a fund for replacing supplies might be in order,” she said finally, tone carefully thoughtful. “The things we use on a daily basis here- our wands, our cauldrons, our books- are costly, especially for things of quality. Some of us are very lucky to be able to afford the best, but a great number of students are not, even if they would not qualify for the sort of scholarship that I think may be in the works currently.. And you know how prone to accidents young wizards are. Melt your cauldron, break your wand- it happens all the time, and if your parents have already put out a huge sum to buy you things to begin with, you’re stuck with the school’s supplies, which are frankly awful, or whatever bare-bones replacements your family can afford. And we all do better work with better things to work with. It hardly seems fair that some of us have that particular advantage while others don’t. I think I would spend some of the money on much nicer back-up things for the school to be used for students who need them until they have the funds themselves to replace such items.” She shrugged a little, looking up at Dulcinea with a sheepish smile. “It seems small, I know, but I think it might make a huge difference to certain students who need that sort of help.”

It was a thoughtful answer, and one that came from careful observation of fellow students. Dulci added a few words to the parchment she'd been writing on earlier about the suggestion--it would be one of the ideas she brought to the next meeting--and nodded. "Exactly the sort of idea we're looking for, thank you. Your point about the quality of work being improved by the quality of a student's supplies is well taken."

One more question, then, since Dulci felt the areas of career and family had been rather well-covered already in her discussion with Pansy. "One of the things that WICCA hopes to do, apart from the volunteering and charity work, is to provide mentoring and community among witches. How would you propose to extend that aspect of WICCA's work into the student body at Hogwarts?"

The praise brought a genuine, pleased smile to Pansy's face, the sort of expression the girl didn't wear terribly often. She was, she thought, doing well.

"Forgive me if this is obvious," she replied promptly, "but we have clubs of all sorts here at Hogwarts. Dueling club and chess clubs, clubs for nearly every class. Whatever your particular interest, there's an extracurricular group to suit." She paused, cocking her head just slightly to one side. "But nothing like WICCA. Nothing to promote the sort of community that WICCA has created in the adult world. Of course, there are events like this, and the ball, but these apply only to us seventh years. Why not a junior chapter, so to speak?"

"Why not, indeed?" There were reasons, in fact, but it was a reasonable answer, if one calculated to appeal to Dulci's ego. Ten points to Slytherin, she told herself, but did not let any amusement leak through to her face. "It's certainly an option we can consider in the future. I would be interested to hear, when you've had time to consider it, how you think such a junior chapter could be established--though I know you'll be quite busy for the next few months with your NEWT studies. I wish you good luck with them." Because, indeed, there was another girl waiting to talk to her and Dulci had probably spent too much time with Pansy as it was.

While Pansy would have been just as happy to remain for the afternoon- surely she deserved the attention more than the idiot behind her!- a gracious exit was called for. She nodded and stood

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I hope you find your trip here worthwhile."