every sound we make is a bit of autobiography

“Oh, not at all,” said Doris shaking her head. “I wouldn’t know the first place to begin with that sort of thing. And neither of my parents really deal with that either. But, I still don’t think that not being good at business should stop you,” she added. “You keep writing, you make a name for yourself in other ways and who knows what you could pull together in the future. Find people who do know that to help you out and invest in that sort of venture.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. It was something he tried not to think about. He had spent his life trying to distance himself from his parents, not turn into them. “My dad’s a writer. Well, sort of. He’s an English professor.” He cracked a smile. “Guess I’ve got nepotism on my side, even if I don’t know anything about business, huh?” 

Pandora made a big show of bracing herself, swirling the punch experimentally in its cup, then took a sip. “Oh. Hm. Notes of pineapple, I think. If there’s grape, I can’t tell.”

Xeno raised his eyebrows, but sipped from his own cup without a word. “Pineapple and... peach? There’s definitely peach in here.” He took another sip. “And maybe mango? That’s a little boring isn’t it? I would have expected something more magical.”

“Oh, well, I suppose you do make a point,” said Doris thoughtfully having never thought about the business side of it. “That’s where you have to find someone else to help you out with that side of it.” 

“Are you any good with that sort of thing? Business?”

“I think it makes grape unexpected. Even though I know now to expect it.”

“Let’s test the theory,” he said, passing her a cup of punch. “You go first.”

“No, I don’t know. Why not, though? You seem perfectly capable to me.”

Xeno sighed and smiled. “Oh, you know, the business side of things seems like a lot to manage. Seems like it’s for people who are a bit stiff, no?”

“Yeah! And, you know, having that kind of power to publish what you want, you definitely have an audience out there I think is looking for the kind of thing you would want to write about,” said Doris confidently. 

“Definitely! Although I’m not really sure I’m the type to be in charge, you know?”

This felt like firm ground to stand on. “You know, like how most fruit juice is really mostly grape juice. I think I read that somewhere.”

“So does that make everything that isn’t a grape unexpected?”

“Your own magazine, huh?” said Doris. “That is true. You would have control over what you could write and gets published. And when you do get your own magazine, you should let me publish something in it. I’ll make it good. Maybe write about some cryptid or other.”

Xeno smiled. “Of course I’d publish you! You’re my day one journalism buddy. We’ve got to stick together.”

“Oh, good, let’s.” The situation pushed her to rambling, of course, so she found herself saying, “I’ve never mixed a punch myself. I wonder what unexpected fruits go into the usual thing.”

“Unexpected fruits? What makes a fruit expected and what makes a fruit unexpected?” Fruits? Xeno was glad there was something to cling onto outside of the discomfort he felt, but what was he even saying? He turned towards the drink table, hoping to hide his embarrassment. 

“Oh, I don’t think there’s any reason to look down on it. It’s just a different brand of writing,” agreed Doris. “That’s the point of having magazines like Witch Weekly. Maybe, I should try my hand at something different, anyway.” And if anything, it would mean a foot in the door. “What kind of writing are you looking to do, Xeno? I don’t know that I’ve ever asked.”

“I think it would be really cool to have my own magazine one day. Then I could just write about my latest obsessions at will, you know? I think it’s difficult for me to land on a single genre or topic.”

“Oh, nothing,” Amelia gave Xeno’s shoulder a squeeze as they entered Three Broomsticks, “Just stay where you are. They’re real lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know,” said Doris. “Honestly, I think I’d do anything they asked of me. I mean, what I really want to do is more investigative journalism, but I can write about the top five hottest wizards to watch out for.”

“It’s a lot of fun! Sometimes I think I want to do something serious,” he said, rolling his eyes, “but there’s no reason to look down on Witch Weekly. I’ll definitely find out if they’re hiring! We’d have so much fun together.”

“I think I’m at capacity for drinks, actually, but they have something non-alcoholic too. I’ll come with you.” It was the normal thing to do.

Xeno wondered if at capacity meant that she was already drunk or if she felt unsafe getting a drink with him in particular. “Sure, I’m good with non-alcoholic. I think there’s a fun fruit punch or something that’s meant for you to mix yourself.”

“Oh, um, I’m with the Minister’s support staff.” Any mention of the Minister had Amelia shifting uncomfortably. She looked ahead as they walked, arms crossing. “Why do you ask? You’re not suddenly at the Ministry, are you?”

“No, I’m not at the Ministry, unless writing about this month’s most eligible wizard bachelor—and yes, month not week—for Witch Weekly is working at the Ministry.” He frowned. “Why?”

“You already know what my writing is like, though. Although, I can still send you a copy of the paper if you want it,” said Doris. “Do you think they’d take me?” she asked. “Do you know if they’re looking?”

“Exactly. I know what your writing is like, and I love it. I want to read your pieces! And, I’ll ask. What are you interested in doing with them?”

“Or you can always do both,” suggested Doris. “Find something experimental to do and then write about it! There could definitely be something there.” 

“You’re right. And you should send me your pieces—I’d love to read them. Maybe you can do an internship at Witch Weekly too.”

“Is that where you’re going to keep working, do you think? If you ever write something, you should totally send it to me.”

“If they offer me a real position, yeah, I think so. For now at least. I’m not really sure about what I want to do. I think I want to find a space for something experimental—whether that’s magic or writing or something else. I’m not sure I know how to explain it. But yeah of course,” he said, bumping her on the arm with his own, “I’ll keep you updated on that front.”