Voldemort on Wall Street, Part 4: The Performance Review

An unofficial Harry Potter parody. Blackthorn Capital, its portfolio company, and the office characters in this story are fictional.

Catch up on [the job interview], [Voldemort’s first week], and [the corporate retreat].

Lord Voldemort had been evaluated before.

There had been prophecies. There had been wanted posters. There had been a particularly unflattering newspaper illustration.

None had included a rating of Meets Expectations.

He stared at the screen.

“Whose expectations?”

Karen sat opposite him, holding a folder.

“The company’s.”

“I returned from the dead.”

“That was before your start date.”

She slid a second document across his desk.

“And we need your self-assessment by Thursday.”

Voldemort examined the first question.

Describe a situation in which you demonstrated humility.

He turned the page.

There were no easier questions.

Feedback from All Directions

Since the corporate retreat, Voldemort’s reputation had improved considerably.

He had canceled unnecessary meetings, backed Priya’s new ordering system, and acquired the nickname He Who Must Not Be Invited.

Now, apparently, this entitled everyone to an opinion about him.

“It’s called a 360-degree review,” Karen explained.

“Criticism from all directions.”

“Feedback.”

“An ambush with stationery.”

Karen opened her folder.

“The comments are anonymous.”

Voldemort smiled faintly.

“Of course.”

“You may not use magic to identify the respondents.”

His smile disappeared.

She read the first comment.

“‘He makes decisions quickly, but sometimes describes routine disagreement as treason.’”

“Sometimes it is.”

“‘The skulls in his presentations make the charts difficult to read.’”

“Those are watermarks.”

“‘He has improved significantly since his first week.’”

He leaned forward.

“Read that again.”

Karen did.

Voldemort considered the sentence.

“It implies there was room for improvement.”

“There was a basin of despair in Conference Room B.”

“Attendance was excellent.”

“The door had to be removed.”

He folded his hands.

“I notice no one mentions my commitment.”

The Self-Assessment

Ethan found him working on his answers that afternoon.

Under Key achievements, Voldemort had written:

Restored order. Crushed opposition. Rescued Brad.

“Should the last one be here?” Ethan asked.

“It required considerable restraint.”

“What about the meeting review?”

“That was crushing opposition.”

“The software?”

“Restoring order.”

Ethan pointed to another box.

“You’ve given yourself five out of five for listening.”

“I heard everything Karen said.”

“Did you consider any of it?”

“I am considering consequences.”

Ethan sat down.

For several minutes, they worked through the form.

Voldemort’s answer to Where would you like to be in five years? required three revisions before it no longer alarmed anyone.

Then Ethan stopped typing.

“There’s something I should mention.”

Voldemort looked up.

“Priya’s creating an operations manager role.”

“Good. She requires capable people.”

“She’s asked me to apply.”

A small silence entered the office.

Outside, someone laughed near the printer.

Voldemort made a mental note to discover why.

A Retention Strategy

“Apply,” he repeated.

“It would mean managing the new ordering process. Training people. Working with the customer team.”

“You already work with me.”

“I know.”

“Would you have a larger office?”

“No.”

“An impressive title?”

“A more accurate one.”

“More money?”

“Yes.”

At last, a motive he understood.

“I shall match it.”

Ethan looked relieved, then uncomfortable.

“It’s also the work.”

“I can provide more work.”

“Different work.”

Voldemort’s fingers tightened around his pen.

“Have I been insufficiently demanding?”

“That’s not the problem.”

“What is the problem?”

“I’d like to run something.”

“You run my calendar.”

“Something that isn’t your calendar.”

Voldemort leaned back.

He had recruited followers with promises of power. He had found this effective partly because he rarely needed to specify when they would receive any.

Apparently, Ethan had started asking about dates.

“I will consider your request.”

“It’s an application.”

“Then I will consider permitting your application.”

Ethan stood.

“Karen says internal applicants don’t need their manager’s permission.”

Voldemort looked toward the corridor.

Karen had been busy.

Brad Discovers Mentorship

Brad arrived the next morning carrying two coffees.

Voldemort distrusted gifts, especially gifts with foam.

“Heard about Ethan,” Brad said.

“Then your hearing remains intact.”

“Talented kid.”

“Indeed.”

“Losing someone good can really expose a leader.”

Voldemort left the coffee untouched.

“Explain.”

“Well, the board may ask who’s doing the work. You, or your assistant.”

“He is not merely an assistant.”

“Of course. He handles your numbers, your slides, your scheduling…”

Brad let the list settle.

“I’d be careful.”

He stood.

“Anyway, good luck with the review.”

Voldemort watched him leave.

The coffee remained on the desk.

After a moment, he vanished it.

It left a ring.

Some methods of attack were annoyingly thorough.

The Replacement Problem

Voldemort decided to prove he could function without Ethan.

By noon, he had accidentally declined his own review, accepted an invitation to a webinar about warehouse flooring, and sent Karen a document titled FINAL_FINAL_ACTUAL_FINAL_USE_THIS_ONE.

It contained one sentence.

MY PERFORMANCE SPEAKS FOR ITSELF.

Karen replied:

Please use the form.

At twelve thirty, he called Denise.

“I require access to Ethan’s files.”

“Which files?”

“All useful knowledge.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“The financial charts.”

“They’re in the shared folder.”

“Where?”

“In the email he sent you. Subject line ‘Financial charts in the shared folder.’”

Voldemort found it.

Below the link was a simple set of instructions.

There were similar emails explaining the calendar, the board presentation template, and the monthly reporting process.

Ethan had been preparing him to manage without him.

Voldemort disliked this.

He disliked even more that it appeared to be working.

The Review

On Thursday, Karen and Brad joined him in the conference room.

Brad had volunteered to provide the executive committee’s perspective.

Voldemort had volunteered nothing.

Karen began with the results.

Orders were moving faster. Staff had more time to do their jobs. Priya’s team had begun using the new software.

“These are meaningful improvements,” she said.

“Naturally.”

“We’d like you to continue reducing delays.”

“I have a list.”

“No executions.”

“Then it is a shorter list.”

Brad turned a page.

“Our concern is whether these improvements depend too heavily on one person.”

Voldemort waited.

“Ethan,” Brad clarified.

“Yes. You mentioned.”

“A sustainable leader develops a team that can operate independently.”

“Yet you suggested his departure would demonstrate my inadequacy.”

Brad smiled.

“It’s a nuanced issue.”

Voldemort reached into his portfolio.

He placed a printed set of handover instructions on the table.

“The reports are documented. The files are shared. Priya controls operational decisions. Denise controls the machines, apparently by ancient right.”

“By administrator access,” Karen said.

“Her claim is uncontested.”

Brad examined the pages.

“And you’re comfortable with Ethan moving?”

Voldemort looked at the empty chair beside him.

It had been pleasant having someone translate his intentions into things other people could legally approve.

It had also been pleasant assuming this arrangement would last forever.

He recognized the assumption.

He had made it about several objects, a snake, and most of his senior staff.

“Ethan has applied for a position,” he said. “He should be evaluated for it.”

Karen made a note.

“Good.”

“I will provide a reference.”

“Also good.”

“It will be accurate.”

Karen looked up.

For the first time that morning, she seemed slightly surprised.

The Reference

Priya called him that afternoon.

“Can we talk about Ethan?”

Voldemort had prepared a parchment.

“He is insolent.”

Priya waited.

“He questions instructions.”

“Yes.”

“He has altered my proclamations without permission.”

“Into emails?”

“Frequently.”

There was a pause.

“Are you recommending him?”

Voldemort studied the parchment.

Ethan had crossed out ETERNAL ALLEGIANCE at the retreat. He had challenged the staffing cuts. He had learned how the company worked while Voldemort was still deciding which objects to curse.

“He knows when I am wrong,” Voldemort said.

“And tells you?”

“With unnecessary confidence.”

“Anything else?”

He considered this.

“He leaves instructions.”

Priya’s voice softened.

“That’s useful.”

“Yes,” Voldemort said irritably. “I am aware.”

A Small Promotion

Ethan got the job.

Voldemort learned this from an announcement that contained the phrase Please join us in congratulating.

He had generally preferred You will join us, but accepted that Karen had influence over company communications.

At four, Ethan appeared in his doorway.

“Thanks for the reference.”

“I merely described your defects.”

“Priya said.”

“You will still work in this building?”

“Third floor.”

“Within summoning distance.”

“Within emailing distance.”

Voldemort opened a drawer.

He took out the polished stone from the corporate retreat.

BELIEVE, it said.

Ethan looked at it.

“Is it cursed?”

“Not currently.”

“Is there part of you in it?”

“No.”

“What does it do?”

“Nothing. I have checked.”

Ethan accepted it.

“Thanks.”

“It may serve as a paperweight.”

“I’ll use it.”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Ethan nodded toward the laptop.

“Your monthly report is due Monday.”

“I know.”

“And the charts—”

“Are in the shared folder.”

Ethan smiled.

Voldemort found this less irritating than expected.

Room for Improvement

His completed review arrived at five.

Overall rating: Meets Expectations.

He read it with renewed disgust.

Below the rating was a comment from Karen.

Demonstrated progress in delegation and developing others. Continue working on tone.

He opened a reply.

YOUR INSOLENCE WILL—

He stopped.

Deleted it.

Tried again.

I disagree with this assessment.

He considered the sentence.

Too weak.

He added:

Strongly.

Then he attached the completed monthly report.

Three minutes later, Karen replied.

Received. Thank you. And the report looks good.

Voldemort sat very still.

He had submitted it early.

Nobody had reminded him.

Somewhere, without his permission, he had become dependable.

Before leaving, he opened the recruitment form for Ethan’s replacement.

Under Essential qualifications, he entered:

Intelligence. Discretion. Willingness to challenge poor decisions.

He studied the last requirement for a long time.

Then he added:

Privately.

The form asked one final question.

Is this a permanent position?

Voldemort hovered over Yes.

He thought of Ethan’s new office, three floors below.

He selected it anyway.

He was beginning to suspect the word meant something different here.

Follow us on Instagram and Facebook