Gringotts.

Drew Brown loved his job. He loved the simplistic monotony of it, but yet it had so much variation. The faces would usually change, the vaults varied in treasure sizes and security procedures, but overall, it was very monotonous. All he had to do was stand at a desk, smile at customers, make idle chit-chat, and then, his favorite part--taking customers down to the vaults. Although he had stopped showing it many years ago, Drew loved the feeling of ricocheting through the wizarding bank, past the stalagmites and stalactites, past the many vaults and twists and turns and loops, all to get to the vault and have the privilege of opening up a top-secret vault. Gringotts' security was virtually unrivaled, and he got the privilege to open and close up vaults.

It was... liberating.

Sure, it was bizarre to be a six-foot-four man working at desks among a general population of goblins, but he paid it no mind. Occasionally, when curse breakers would come out of the depths of the curious bank, Drew would talk to his brother-in-law. It was a weird feeling, having a brother-in-law. He had grown up surrounded by sisters, and finally being able to say he had a brother (albeit by marriage) was a very peculiar thing.

No matter. He enjoyed the occasional conversations with Max, although they normally ended with "say hello to Libby for me!" from Drew's end and a boyish "only if I remember to" from Max's side. In fact, Drew's daily work routine over the past twenty-five or so years had become so monotonous and routine that he could predict with nearly perfect accuracy what days of the year would be slow, what days would be busy, what times of the day would be the busiest and the least busy, and even when he would start to see school shoppers... oh, the school shoppers.

The memories of his school days flooded into him as he stood there, at the end of the work day, yearning to go home and plop down into his big squishy armchair. His unruly hair, the horrid acne he had gotten, teasing his younger siblings when they were ready to go to Hogwarts and officially start their own wizarding training. He remembered his first day inside the castle--September 1st, 1987. This was... hmm. How many years ago was it?

Oh, right. Thirty-one, and he remembered the day perfectly. He remembered sitting alone on the magical train, staring out of the window all the while. Eventually, some boy (whom was later sorted into Hufflepuff) pitied him and sat in the compartment so Drew wouldn't be alone. The two chatted, having fun and cracking jokes. At the feast, drew ate amongst the true champions of Hogwarts: the Gryffindors. He went to sleep in a wondrous, cozy four-poster, scarlet curtains draped around so he could block out any and all other distractions. After the magnificent feast he'd had, he'd slept like he never had before, and woke up to his first day of school feeling refreshed and happy.

That is how Drew Brown would feel when he collapsed into his big squishy armchair and removed his dapper black suit after a long day at work: refreshed and happy.

[[<3]]

An owl flew through the doors, landing right upon Drew's desk, and flapped it's wings joyfully. It had, in fact, a letter attached to its legs.

"Ooh, mail."

Drew grinned and gingerly untied the letter from the owl's legs. It flew off, and Drew unrolled the scroll, smiling at the familiar handwriting.

[size=9]Dearest Drew,

Hey my love. It's amazing how much I miss you, but I have bad news: I can't come home for the weekend. I'm afraid I can't send you anything now, there's some issues going on at the school that I think I'd want you to know.

Well, Brian is very ill. There's this thing going around the school, Matilda has it too, and to be honest all the teachers are very worried. We think it might have to do with the stench in one of the girl's washrooms, and next week investigators from St Mungo's are coming to see what could be causing this.

But, Drew, I'm so worried for Brian. He's got it the worst there, apparently he was coughing up blood and everything. It's horrible, Drew, I'm actually scared. What if he doesn't get better? I wish you were here, I really do. And I hope everything is doing good over there, reply soon.

With love and kisses,
Kelsi