Crookshanks, the Unpaid Intern
I wish to preface this letter by stating that this is simply a matter of circumstances; this in no way reflects my feelings toward you. I have actually enjoyed my time being your intern – your unpaid intern, that is. While terrorizing that wretched rat and stealing Longbottom’s list of passwords was quite amusing, I feel I must admit there is an aspect of my position that dissatisfies me. Yes, I am referring to the compensation I receive, or lack thereof. Though I am not expecting a Galleon’s worth of pay per task, I at least deserve some spiders or field mice in return. I mean, who got you that Firebolt order form? If it were not for me, Harry, your beloved godson, would be riding around on one of Hogwarts’s old Shooting Stars. How embarrassing. Not to mention, I was your inside tomcat for that whole Peter Pettigrew situation. Without me, who knows what devious things he would have eventually done?
So I guess what I am trying to say is that I must relinquish my duties as your designated assistant. I understand that your funds must be put toward running from the Ministry. That is totally acceptable. But this cat has got to live his life.
I will always cherish the time I spent with you plotting the demise of Mr. Pettigrew; I will never forget the look on his face when we finally confronted him. I suspect we will meet again soon.
Crookshanks, the unpaid intern
P.S. You must thank Hermione for assisting me in writing this note; my paws are not cut out for holding a quill.
This article was inspired by @the-darling-badger’s post embedded above.