6 PM-ish

With classes done for the day and a study session that wasn't going exactly as planned, Regina was more than ready to meet up with Professor Storm for her scheduled counseling session. With her book bag swinging at her side due to a rather uncharacteristically purposeful stride, she tried to quell the butterflies fluttering around inside. Ever since her decision to pursue Aurorship she'd been dwelling on this meeting. Especially since she wasn't entirely sure Professor Storm knew of her save for lessons and a few chance meetings outside the classroom setting itself. How would react to her career choice? Would he attempt to steer her in a completely different direction if he felt she wasn't suited for it? That would be a huge blow to recover from. If the DADA teacher didn't think you had what it took, then you were pretty much out of luck.

Nevertheless, she continued onward, only hoping for the best. Perhaps he would take into account her increased participation and improved performance -- not that her grades in his class had ever been completely in the gutter. She'd always done well-enough up until recently, when she kicked it into high-gear to make a lasting impression on the man. A few answered questions, good judgment, and some well-thought out essays had been the beginning of her plan. Now this one-on-one time without any external interference would be the make-or-break moment for her. Good thing she didn't eat anything major today -- she was sure she'd be feeling queasy if that were the case.

Reaching the door to the DADA classroom she knocked softly three times before grasping the handle and turning it, pushing open the door to stick her head inside. "Professor Storm? Hope I'm not too early..." She shuffled in soon after ward, leaning against the door to shut it behind her. Sigh. Now or never...

"Grayson, do come in. Take a seat." Professor Storm called from his desk.

The light was still falling through the tall windows of the classroom as it was early evening and the desks were in their usual lines, the second, fourth and sixth years having attended for their lessons that day.

At the front of the room Professor Storm was seated behind the desk which had a stack of books set as standard texts for each of the years on one corner, and an assortment of parchments, sandtimers, quill pots, boxes and newspapers cluttering the side of it as he'd not cleared it for the end of the day. Everything was pretty much as it always was apart from the solitary chair which sat to the Professor's right, facing the short side of his desk - with its back to the windows. This was the particular chair he gestured to Grayson, which had also been graced by other students that week.

When Grayson approached he gave her a pleasant nod, and tugged his neat mark book towards him, where each student's classwork and subsequent homework marks were inked in his handwriting with precision. He flicked between pages and gave a quiet 'hmm' before lifting a piece of parchment from the top of a pile, which included comments from the other Professors on Grayson.

"So Grayson, what have you so far considered for a career once you have left Hogwarts?" He posed, turning his chair slightly to face Regina diagonally across the desk, eyes keen on the student which either made them swell with importance or cower at the unusual attention.

It was weird seeing the normally lively room so empty. There was always some sort of activity going on whenever she was usually present. To come in with just the Professor present and no one else to soak up his attention made the reality of the subject of her visit even more potent. Nodding, she crosses the empty room, weaving between the empty desks to the chair designated for her. This was certainly a face-to-face affair. No escaping his scrutiny, just as she slightly feared. Doing her best not to fidget and look nervous, she calmly folded her arms in her lap and maintained eye contact.

The parchment he perused no doubt had some kind of information concerning her on it. She could just tell by the way he held it up, even doing that customary "hmm" sound she often heard adults in positions of authority do in relation to a subordinate. She could only hope no one had written anything particularly discrediting -- she was generally well-behaved and didn't make any huge splashes. Really, there shouldn't be a huge paragraph of bad things about her in that case. Maybe a mention or two of her slight tendency to be anti-social and snappy, but nothing terrible...

Clearing her throat, she delivered the carefully worded response to his question that she had worked on beforehand. "Well sir. I've been putting much thought into becoming an Auror. I feel like my skills in Defense as well as other core subjects are enough to make me a good candidate for the program." There, that sounded rather assuring. Now she braced herself for the inevitable in-depth probing of her decision, trying to keep any "chinks in her armor" hidden.

"An auror?" Professor Storm replied rhetorically, lacing his own fingers and placing them in his lap, squaring his shoulders, attention entirely undivided.

"A noble and often glamourised career - as we discussed last Saturday. Other than your academic strengths, what is your motive for electing to become an auror. Have you family members already serving, or a moral code that is appeased by your need to bring justice, or is it merely the glamour and power?" His question tailed off at the end in pitch and a smirk grew on his face.

To be so sure at 15 was intriguing, he could understand it in Harcroft, the brothers had inherited that strange, procedural requirement, as if the parents had thought like dragon breeders and decided they would raise a brood of aurors. Alamasy's comment of Ignan doing the same had made him think of that comparison.

Now the cat was out of the bag. Reggie watched the Professor carefully, trying to pick out any signs of disagreement in his actions that followed her stunning reveal. The questions she was expecting were posed with interest on his part, instead of the outright skepticism she had been dreading. Ok, she could handle this. Taking a deep breath, she paused for an instant before letting her words all flow out.

"I've been feeling adrift for awhile. A long while, actually, sir. I'm not a person who gets very interested in much of anything, I'll admit. I'd be lying if I told you I've been planning to be in law enforcement my entire life. My parents are muggles. I have no relation to anyone who may have been an auror in the past. It's not something that runs in my bloodline nor is there a long legacy I have to live up to. But... I feel like I should strive to make a difference in this world I've been apart of for five years now. I want to contribute after all these years of being on the sidelines."

She sat there in silence after her speech, shocked that she was able to articulate her words that well. For someone who never really shared her feelings this was a quite a profound moment in time. Swallowing, she maintained eye contact with Professor Storm, hanging on for his response.

Professor Storm listened in respectful silence. He knew something of each of the student's backgrounds, gleaned, understood from other staff or what notes were passed on, but he rarely enquired.

"You're seeking a purpose, and a direction, which is to be expected. Why am I learning this, what consequence will it bring me?" Storm reasoned, palms uppermost as if weighing something on either of them. "Strategy, far better than what many of your classmates elect to try - passive disinterest." He gave an approving nod, her reasoning sounded genuine.

"If you are keen to make a difference, then why not consider research, healing, conflict resolution, Muggle liason? Why particularly law enforcement, and why within that, an auror, as opposed to any of the other roles?" He asked her keenly, eyes not leaving her face.

On the contrary of what most students expected, he was content to hear their reasonings, and just pick holes in them later. Exactly how the recruitment panel did for any job in the Ministry - apart from where the vacancies were high and they just needed anyone who could cast half a spell.

Regina considered what he said for a few moments. Those in the careers he mentioned really did make a difference each day in their own ways. Researchers found amazing new approaches to doing things. Healers mended the broken and sick bodies of the needy. Conflict resolutionists jumped into the fray and stopped arguments from escalation to violence. And muggle liasons built bridges between muggle and magical worlds to help them understand one another better -- or something like that. Picking any of those jobs or a multitude of others, save perhaps waitressing in the Leaky Cauldron, would slot her into a position to help. She could thus take the easier route and save herself the grief of risking her life in pursuit of people who really did not want to be caught and brought to justice. Professor Storm was reaching deep.

"Because... It feels right." She set her jaw tightly, eyes burning with intensity. "I want to help keep order, but not from behind some desk. I actually want to be out there myself." The determination she was expressing was still so foreign. Had it been inside of her the entire time, waiting to burst out? The sorting hat certainly thought so, way back in her first year when there were less important matters on her mind. It had chuckled softly, going on about how she was a difficult child. When it sensed her annoyance, it merely chuckled further.

"Your spunk is admirable," The hat had said, "It will take you quite far my dear. I sense you are capable of much. You have tenacity and grit. Oh? You disagree? Well, that's fine. You may not realize you possess these qualities just yet. There's still a long road ahead for you to figure things out. I hope you do remember what I said when that moment comes..."

Oh how very right it was.

"Because... It feels right. I want to help keep order, but not from behind some desk. I actually want to be out there myself."

Ah, here it was, the determination and grit, the stubborn nature that brought defiance and strength. Ignan kept his face as straight as possible, before resting his left elbow on the desktop and folding his hands into his lap.

"It feels right?" Professor Storm echoed, scathingly. "You want to order people around, eye to eye, face to face, knock a few heads together, throw a few curses." He leaned forward a little, "Looking for a power-trip, Greyson?"