Friday, late afternoon.


Aileen Reid stared down at the parchment on her desk with a pinched look on her face, shaking her head every so often. Six A's. Two D's. One E. Not the marks of a good student. Aileen wondered if Figaro Sellaphix would ever be one.

One thing was for certain. He'd be at her office in a minute, and she needed to find something to say to him. The Headmistress had snared her into Head of House duties when she wasn't even a Head of House, for students that had forgotten or avoided counseling during the week. It was all a part of Snark's scheme to drink her crazy. The thought of Sellaphix looking to her for career answers, or dragging his feet and expecting her to provide magical solutions for his life, made a little knot of dread unfold in her stomach. Aileen didn't want another problem dumped on her that she simply couldn't solve.

At the knock on the door, she looked up and called him in. "Mr. Sellaphix. Please take a seat," she gestured towards the chair, voice cool but resigned. He must be as thrilled about this appointment as she was.

Aileen sat back and gave him a considering look. Figaro Sellaphix. The name was like a curse. There were worse students out there, and he wasn't cruel or stupid, but he was certainly mouthy, fidgety, annoying, and frustrating. His sort was the most difficult for her to understand and teach. She couldn't just give him detentions for bad behavior like she gave Bilius. She couldn't just give him a nudge in the right direction like she gave good students such as Sasha and Naomi.

If there was anything she'd learned, it was that subtlety was often lost on him. They both knew he was close to Trolling out of Runes. On the very first day of class, he'd claimed that he needed Runes to run the apothecary, but with his father in Azkaban, Aileen wondered if the pressure was even greater than before. Or perhaps, his father's absence gave him the freedom to consider other goals.

She had many questions for him, but the tougher ones could wait.

"How have you been faring lately? With classes, schoolwork, preparing for OWLS," she prompted him, hoping to get an idea of where his head was at.

Spring was springing in Scotland, the weather getting pinker, the days finally noticeably stretching sunnier on both ends.  Figaro had done his absolute best to not find himself in a professor's office on such a perfect afternoon.  But it was the absolute last day for Career Counselling and the note passed to him was signed in unavoidable, no-nonsense cursive. 

It wasn't that he didn't get on with Professor Reid, Figaro actually evaluated their relationship as a rather good one, but his marks in Runes were among his most teetering.  His most precarious.  He'd barely been able to take the course this year having already Trolled out in his fourth year.  So the track he was on meant that they didn't have cheerful things in common. 

She looked sour and long-suffered, even a little more than normal, when he sat down before her.  He tried to act casual and unphased.  He was nearly dressed down out of uniform for the weekend.  White shirt with sleeves rolled up, tie gone.  Robe, hat, sweater, all out of sight.  The others had reported the meeting was no big deal, but he didn't really buy that.  The way professors and parents talked about 'careers', they made it seem like it was life and death and you were doomed should you not be studying twenty-four/seven.   But he couldn't envision it.  He had no idea how his world would change when he left Hogwarts.  He couldn't imagine a life where he wasn't a child and all the rest were adults.  A career seemed like a fairy story.

Her face told the tale - his grades were not good.  But her question perplexed him.

"What?"

Didn't she know?

"Dunno.  Same I guess," he shrugged.  "Nervous?" His answer seemed rote.  Insincere but not untrue.  He was generally totally ambivalent about school.  Nearly never had it it ever evoked an emotional response from him, save moments when parental wrath was imminent.

"Do you mean, am I going to do good? Probably not."  Again, with the same lack of affect.

"You don't seem very concerned," she chided him, raising her eyebrows. Abby gave her the same nonchalant attitude sometimes, but at least she seemed aware when she was digging herself a hole.

"This," she turned the parchment around and slid it over on the desk to show him his marks. "Isn't good," Aileen finished bluntly. "And I'm not just talking about my class. OWLS matter. Your marks matter."

Aileen sat behind her desk in full robes, looking like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, while Figaro lazed in the chair across from her, looking as though buttoning his shirt had exhausted all his efforts for the day. He wasn't even wearing a tie, the little booger!

"I'm sure this isn't news to you, but few kids grow up to be wrock stars or professional Quidditch players," she tilted her head at him, hoping he wasn't under such delusions. "How well you do in school and on your exams can make all the difference when you're looking for a job. A few years, Mr. Sellaphix, and you graduate. It's not so far off. Even if you run the apothecary your entire life, you still need Runes," she tapped her finger on the parchment, "among other things, to be successful."

Aileen realized this was more of a 'kick in the arse' talk than a career talk, but in her opinion, he had to be on the ball with his current goals before they talked about future ones.

"So what's your plan? How are you going to improve these marks by the end of the year and pass your OWLS?"

There was what looked like a stout little stone ankh on Professor Reid's desk and Figaro itched to touch it.  It looked smooth and worn down, like its edges were once crisp and clean, but was were now rounded off.  When Professor Reid began talking to him about grades, careers, jobs and yaddayadda, he was just thinking about the ankh and trying to control the impulse to pick it up.

In all honesty, he was mostly listening, but it wasn't anything new coming in, or he didn't have the wherewithall to really hear that she was concerned and that her advice was sound.  But he keyed back in 100% when her voice changed into a question mark.  He animated from his restrained slouch: he raised his eyebrows up and sat forward.  His left hand went to the ankh and he drummed it with a couple of fingers.  It was rougher than it looked, and quite cold.

"Yea, my marks are rubbish," he agreed.  He still wasn't sure what he should say.  Maybe honesty would be fun to try - the old script was getting worn out from use.  "I know we all keep on about careers and jobs and leaving Hogwarts and how it's important, but it all seems kind of arbitrary sometimes.  It's going to be ages before I leave."  Two years felt like ages to Figaro.   "Feel like there's time.  I'm not so airy to think I'm going to play Quidditch or be in a band," he laughed.  He was probably the worst Quidditch player in the history of the sport - and he well knew he was only a hobby musician. 

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.  Winning good marks seems... like... unrelated.  I don't know what I want to do."  He sat back with a shrug.  How was he supposed to be motivated to do school if he didn't know what it was all supposed to be for?  None of his classes really excited him, he didn't like... have anyone he looked up to.  Other than Cinaed Tawse? And that wasn't a real answer, and he knew it.

"I mean, like, did you know you wanted to teach Runes of all things when you were fifteen?  Be honest," he said, his tone skeptical.

The student had that vague look about him that told her 'everything in the whole world is going to be a distraction'! As he started fiddling with the ankh, Aileen pursed her lips, reminded of her failed attempts to train the crup at home. Roxy would get distracted by a fly, a blanket, or Abby's sneezing, and nothing ever, ever got accomplished. Unfortunately though, she couldn't interact with Sellaphix in a bubble, and when he started to answer, she let him.

His excuses sounded remarkably similar to Abby's. Aimless teenagers were not so uncommon, she supposed.

"I didn't," Aileen answered simply, unperturbed by the question.

"That's the point, Mr. Sellaphix. No one expects you to know everything or to accurately predict what you want to do as an adult. Even if you think you know, it's likely to change a dozen times, and once you pick a career, you're just as likely to switch professions at some point, too."

She leaned forward and raised her eyebrows at him. "That doesn't mean you don't try. You can't just give up and stop looking for things that matter to you. As a teenager, you have more time in the world than you ever will when you're older. Use it."

Aileen held his gaze for a few seconds. She still got the feeling that these were just words, that she wasn't getting through to him.

"After all the exams, and the OWLS, and the stress, if you choose to fix floos for a living, I won't judge you," Aileen paused. "Maybe a little," she conceded with a smirk. "But it would be your choice. You need to put forth more effort precisely because you don't know what you want yet, and you don't know which classes or skills might be useful later on. You're here, so take advantage of it."

Well, he was here for as long as he didn't get suspended, expelled, or attacked by a werewolf. She was here as long as she didn't get fired. So many lovely options. Still, Sellaphix being here was more than she could say for her squib sister.

Figaro bit his lip.  He was about to vocalize the thought that had popped into his head: that cleaning floos sounded completely badass.  Flying through chimneys in a blaze of green fire covered head-to-toe in soot and floo powder?  Travelling the whole Network on the Ministry's dime? He accurately judged that it was not the best thing to say just know because his long-suffering professor was currently Inspiring him.

"What did you want to be then?" he pressed.  Figaro was the oldest, and he didn't have any older cousins either.  Speaking strictly, he didn't really have any models for what the growing up narrative would look like other than do what your father did because he did what his father did and before him and so forth.  From his point of view, his parents hadn't followed their passions.  Their passions appeared to be such exciting pastimes as responsibility, reputation, and matched up socks. 

"I mean did you try?"  He wasn't trying to be snarky, but he was skeptical.  He just didn't understand why such high standards were placed on him, that he should be busting his ass for the possibility of ... what?

"Yes, I tried," Aileen couldn't help but sound exasperated. When had students needed some kind of special calling to work hard? Now she felt old. Aileen didn't appreciate his insistence on knowing more about her past. She understood why he was doing it, that he wanted to relate, to find a reason to put forth effort, and the Hufflepuff didn't have it in him to judge her harshly or use her words against her.

She leaned back in her chair and slanted him a look. Fine. She'd try, too.

"When I was fifteen, I didn't know what I wanted," she admitted, expression softening slightly. "Like you, my family had laid out a neat little path for me. I was supposed to graduate with decent marks, marry, find something socially acceptable to do with myself, and start a family of my own."

She paused. "Things did not go according to plan. I had to think about what I really wanted, and at the very least I knew I wanted to get away from here," she smiled wryly. "I'd always been good at Runes and languages, so I applied to several expeditions, ended up traveling the world, came back to work at the Ministry for a few years, and... you know the rest," she gestured around the office. "The marks I got in school weren't the end all and be all. But they did prove I had some kind of work ethic, and that helped open up a lot of opportunities."

Aileen decided not to voice her concern that his family name might actually be an obstacle, and that he didn't have the safety net of important connections and money that some of his peers had.

Figaro found himself listening to Professor Reid.  (An eerie sensation.)  She was saying things that made her sound like a regular person. She'd been fifteen.  She'd been clueless.  Her parents had been prats.   A smile crept on his face.

It seemed obvious, but he'd never really considered he could do whatever he wanted.  He could have any job.  Professor Reid had had to 'think about what she really wanted'. 

He furrowed his brow thoughtfully, and with a trace of that smile still lingering, he said, "I'd like to be an Auror."

"Yea.  Auror.  What do I need for that?"

He flipped around the sheet of paper that had his progress in from all his professors. 

SELLAPHIX, FIGARO

Astronomy TRISHNA: A
Charms KIRCHLEHNER: A
Defense STORM: A
Herbology BLAIR: D
History AUSTERLITZ: A
Potions VAILLANCOURT: A
Transfig HALLETT: A

Creatures O MORAIN: E
Runes REID: D

It was not shining, but Figaro had never been the type to hang his head in shame.  He raised his eyebrows at Professor Reid as if to say, your move.

She stared at him. This must be a joke. Aileen glanced down at the sheet of marks, the dark letters etched in with dismal finality.

Perhaps later, she'd be able to look back at this moment and laugh. Cheerful, easygoing Figaro Sellaphix wanted to be an Auror. He was asking her, Aileen Reid, for advice about it.

Shaking her head slightly, she opened the desk drawer to her right side, plucked out the lone MLE information packet (that she'd somehow gotten by mistake while picking up brochures for Abby), and slapped it on the desk.

"You need to earn E's in five NEWTS," she informed him, adopting the tone of a gloomy prophet who'd foreseen disaster.

"Potions, transfiguration, defense - obviously, and charms are encouraged. You currently have A's in all of those courses."

Aileen glanced up from the parchment. "You also need a certain propensity for sticking your nose into other people's business," she added darkly.

She leaned back in her chair, not even attempting to hide her bafflement at his announcement. Aurors had arrested Figaro's father, uprooted his life, his family. Aileen could relate to that probably more than he knew.

"Why do you want to become an Auror of all things, Mr. Sellaphix?"

Aileen slid the pamphlet towards him in one swift motion. His move.

Figaro hissed out the beginning of a curseword, "Shiiiii..." when Professor Reid told him he'd need five Exceeded Expectations in some very challenging subjects.   That was a tall order - he'd have to do very well on his OWLs just to be able to take the NEWT-level courses next year.  But he had guessed as much, that the road to being an Auror would be well more than he was willing to take on.  As much as that Auror Eleor had impressed him, Figaro knew he could never be such a hardass. 

He was just yanking Professor Ried's chain.  Maybe making some veiled point that it wasn't all hard work - some of it was just your lot in life.  Your raw talent. 

He giggled wryly and took the booklet from the desk.  But he didn't read it, or stow it in his bag.  Just just fiddled with it, rolling the corners over, distorting the picture of an ethnically diverse set of young witches and wizards pose and smile.

"Alright yea, okay, bad idea," he said, chewing his lip in a moment of thought.  "How about Healer?  That's just Potions, right?"

He'd stumble on the right answer eventually, he figured.

Did he just giggle at her? Right when she was trying to be a 'good professor' and spell out the requirements for him? He did!

Aileen touched her hand to her forehead in an oddly graceful, slow motion face-palm. "Mr. Sellaphix," she shook her head, hoping he wasn't going to make her go gray.

"This is not bobbing for apples! You can't just pluck out a career on a whim!"

She opened her desk drawer with more force this time, scooped up a handful of pamphlets from the career fair, and dumped them on the desk in front of him. Then she looked at him and frowned.

"Did you skip the career fair? Why don't you have this information?"

Aileen didn't have the patience to even consider his next choice of Healer. He was driving her barmy!

Figaro bit his lip hard and looked down in his lap in what he hoped would read as an appropriate show of humility, but he choking down amused laughter.  Professor Reid was pissed.  He put a hand over his mouth and coughed.

When he looked up with an almost straight face, his voice broke when he responded, "Career Fair...?" 

Not only were there fliers up all over the school, but there'd been announcements at dinner and from all of his professors.  The Career Fair had taken up the whole Great Hall for an entire day.  How Figaro had missed it could only be interpreted as deliberate lack of attention.  On the other hand the distractions faced by a young wizard of Figaro's age and disposition could have easily allowed something that sounded so boring to slip his mind.

He was faced with a pile of pamphlets with titles like "Seek the Truth! Intern at the Daily Prophet!", and "Make Your Own Path as a Magical Technician with the Department of Magical Transportation".  They all were trying very hard to be enticing and exciting, but as he fingered through the pile a little bit, he didn't see any faces that looked like they could belong to him. 

All he could offer the poor, pissed off professor was a shrug and a wince.

Aileen watched him struggling not to laugh. She heard him croak out 'career fair' in questioning tones. All the while, her anger simmered.

"April 18th," she hissed out the words. "Ministry employees milled about the Great Hall and the courtyard. Responsible students introduced themselves. House elves panicked. This should all be ringing a bell."

The professor shook her head, letting her disappointment show. "I can understand indecisiveness, some lack of motivation, but this, Mr. Sellaphix? You're not trying. I can't even talk to you about career options because you're not prepared. You're missing opportunities, and the only way you're going to reach any sort of goal - other than the goal of driving me mad - is by paying attention. Planning instead of reacting."

She shot him a pointed look, "Just in case that point isn't hitting home, I'll make it very clear. Forget about careers for a moment. I want to know what you're going to do to improve your marks. You have a little over a month until your exams. How many hours a day will you set aside to study? What time will you study? Which subjects require the most of your attention?"

Aileen paused, gestured toward the quill and paper on her desk. "Work it out on parchment if you need to. But I want specifics. Or I will make a plan for you."

Judging by the look on her face, Mr. Sellaphix wasn't going to like her plan!

It was sometimes difficult to 'wipe that smile off your face and be serious'.  There were always lingering toxic giggles and snorts that threatened the peace even when you thought you'd suitably straightened out.  When Professor Reid bore into him it was all Figaro could do to give her the eye contact her tone demanded and take deep breaths so as not to have his guts spasm into a nervous bark of laughter.

He'd pushed her too far.  He might have known that digging too far for the sense of humor would be a fool's errand.  Instead, he'd made a mockery of her efforts to do her job by him. 

"Erm..."  His mouth opened, and he shut it again.  He'd been slightly happy when she'd told them both to forget about careers, but the relief was short-lived.  This was now a talk about his marks, not some silly formality about his hopes and dreams.  He hated talks about his marks.

Slowly, more slowly than he ought, he reached out a hand to sliiiide over a piece of paper.  And then sliiiiide over a quill and the ink.  Slowly, to buy himself time.  But she was watching him.  She wanted his plan now.  Now that he had the blank page to look at, he only had to glance up to meet her eye line occasionally. 

'Hours' plural per day for a month!?  His heart sank.  He couldn't imagine the aimless hours spent drilling some wand movement or bent over a book.  His reputation would be tarnished...

Figaro sighed heavily, all traces of mirth squashed, and set pen to paper.

"Runes..." he murmured, hoping that starting with Professor Reid's subject might engender some mercy.  His handwriting was terrible and slanted down and to the right. 

He raised his eyes to her again.  She was still watching and waiting.  Another beleaguered sigh. 

"I have a big break before dinner..." he said and scrawled a '2 hours' after 'Runes'.  Then 'before dinner'.   It killed him to think of using that time for anything more than changing out of school clothes, being rowdy and getting outside. 

He checked up at her again.  She did not seem done.  He looked over at his marks again, at the D he'd earned with Bombay and was sustaining with Blair. 

"Herbology..."  he said as he wrote it under Runes.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays he had some time between Potions and Lunch but that reserved for, well, you know, not studying.  Frankly that time tended to just speed along by.  They all got out of class together and they tended to settle somewhere to talk and play cards, or throw a quaffle around before the Great Hall was ready with food. 

He looked again at his list of marks.  "A means Acceptable," he said, hoping to reason with her.  "If I just work on Herbology and Runes, that should be... acceptable, right?"

Though the Hufflepuff kept glancing at her like a scolded crup, she showed him no mercy. His extra sloooow movements mapping out his ideas were met with an unrelenting, stern stare. Sellaphix had incurred her wrath. Annoying circumstances had dumped this student on her for career counseling, and by Salazar, he was not going to waste her time and fail.

"No," she answered his question firmly. "Some professors won't allow you to continue taking their class with an Acceptable."

She glanced at his parchment. "Herbology and Runes. Correct; those subjects need the most attention." He'd need them if he ended up in the Apothecary, and it was best to avoid two glaring D's on his Hogwarts transcript.

"As for Care of Magical Creatures, you're doing well in that class," her tone softened for an instant. "So just ensure you keep that E.

"Now take a look at the rest of your classes: Astronomy, Charms, Defense, Potions, History, and Transfiguration. Pick four of those that you'd prefer to continue your sixth year. Those are the classes you should be focusing on next, that you should aim to achieve E's in."

Aiming for five E's total would give Mr. Sellaphix some kind of buffer, she hoped. Realistically, if he kept his E in CoMC, and managed one or two other E's, with the rest as Acceptables, she'd be happy.