His career counselling hadn't been going as planned, apparently. Originally meant to be one of the students on Friday, Dion's attempts to sign up as soon as humanly possibly had been thwarted by his other duties as a Prefect and having to keep the crowd under control.

A lot of people wanted to be Aurors, apparently. Professor Storm's list was long, and he'd barely managed to get one of the evening slots. Dion took quiet consolation that the old man had probably put all but the most serious off it. But, well, that late meeting had been fine - until Storm had found him in the library on Friday evening and cancelled, telling him to come in on Sunday morning instead. Personal emergency, apparently.

Well...fine. He did his best to hide his thin layer of annoyance. So long as he got some counselling, it didn't matter if he'd gotten it last. Even Dax had gone before him now, and that was just embarrassing. Dax had gone to Fraiser, too. Ugh. What kind of example was he setting? Dax's teasing that the 'personal emergency' was just Storm realizing Dion was next hadn't helped.

So, 9am sharp on Sunday, he rapped sharply on the door of the Defense classroom, his bag tucked under his arm, his prefect's badge gleaming on his chest and his uniform in perfect order. When he got no reply, he tried the door, and found it unlocked. Sighing, he stepped inside - frowning at the quiet and clean classroom.

"Professor?" He called, not seeing the man at first.

"Get-!" Professor Storm was sat at his desk, curled over, his head almost resting on the desk and hands on the back of his head. Recognising the voice a moment later, he sat up abruptly, and narrowed his eyes, confused.

"Fayette." He addressed the student, his tired mind winding back to Friday and his confused expression dropped.
"Of course, apologies. We were meant to speak Friday evening. Come in." His tone was lacking in enthusiasm. He was wearing his usual shirt and trouser combination with waistcoat, but no tie, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and jacket over the back of his chair.

With a wave of his wand, he summoned the chair, upsetting a pile of books that had ended up on there since the last student. They pattered onto the floor as the chair lifted its back legs and skittered over the floor with a scrape that made the Professor wince. He'd not slept at all.

"Sit down."

It landed with a bump beside the desk and the Professor tucked away his wand before rooting through his desk for the papers from Friday which were luckily to hand, where he had left them.
"I must apologise for cancelling our meeting so late, but better late than hurried and of no value to you." He explained gruffly, squinting at the handwriting on the sheet from the other Professors. Everything appeared to be in order.

A cup of tea left at the request of the house elf that had discovered him awake in his chambers early that morning had refilled itself and gone cold sat on the desk. He brought his wand to his fingertips and performed a heating charm - one of the few things other than alcohol that would get him through today.

"You want to be an auror. That's established." He remarked, sitting back and looking at Dion as intently as possible. "You've ensured you have studied the correct subjects, and the other Professors are happy, or more than happy with your marks this year." Professor Storm lifted the parchment to check and placed it back down again.
"Well, it would appear things are rather in order for a text book entry to the auror corps of the British Ministry, if only a little dull."

He hadn't missed the Professor telling him to get out - or almost telling him, anyway. Apparently that personal emergency wasn't over, or had been a nasty one, or both. Well, he could deal with that, and Storm told him to come in anyway.

He sat at the chair, body language formal and stiff as usual, watching Storm squint and struggle. The professor's appearance and flustering reminded him almost of Trishna, which was odd. Storm was respectable; Trishna wasn't, in Dion's own opinion.

"Yes, sir," he said calmly, unable to hide a twinge of pride at the man's words, comment on dullness aside. As Ignan looked at his files, Ignan's turn of phrase made his eyebrow rise slightly. "The other professors, sir?" he asked, and instantly wished he'd waited for more confirmation that there was an issue. "Have I not performed adequately in your class this year, sir?"

"Oh you've performed adequately, Fayette." The Professor replied, drawing his mark book nearer and finding a row of exemplary marks. "More than adequately, in fact." He added though gave no indication he was pleased about this.

"The difference is, do you want to spend three years of your life to be an auror after spending seven here hunched over your books?" His gaze drifted a moment as he gestured to the desks below them with a flourish of his left arm.
"Though, from what I have seen, Fayette, to take a moment away from studies and excelling yourself academically is something you consider weakness."

Professor Storm folded his arms.
"You're about to leave here where you're used to being top of your game, and enter into something that requires not just brains and studies behind you, but knowledge you only gain with vocational experience. No book is going to help you gain that." His tone was grumpy and verging on disapproval as if to insinuate Dion was expecting auror training to be a walk in the park.

Ah. The test of character. Right. He'd rather hoped Professor Storm would be a bit more...how to put it? Professional? Matter-of-fact? Less snarky, perhaps. Either way, he felt confident he knew what this was.

"Yes, sir, I do," he said, in the same neutral but firm tone he'd used this whole time. "And in all fairness, sir, I'm quite involved in extracurricular activities, as my record may or may not show," he added.

Sitting up straight, he pulled his body together in a relaxed and but firm posture, radiating both ease and confidence with every cell of his being. "No, most book will not help, sir, and frankly I am looking forward to that. I chose my purpose long ago. My focus on studies is simply an effort to be the best I can be - to achieve what I know I am capable of doing. And frankly, the school does not adequately prepare us for the dangers beyond. I have done my best while sticking to the school's rules, sir, but I know it wouldn't be enough." He thought back to the...diverse group group of Aurors and their takes on things.

He paused, gauging the man's face before he continued. "I'm also aware the Auror field is much more than what most people think," he added. "Most students don't think of inner-office and multi-floor politics, administration, ethics, and so on when they think Auror. And while it would be a lie to say I've always ignored the 'swinging on the chandeliers' fantasy of criminal arrest, it's not what I expect, or hope for, when entering the job, sir."

"Yes, sir, I do, and in all fairness, sir, I'm quite involved in extracurricular activities, as my record may or may not show. No, most book will not help, sir, and frankly I am looking forward to that. I chose my purpose long ago. My focus on studies is simply an effort to be the best I can be - to achieve what I know I am capable of doing. And frankly, the school does not adequately prepare us for the dangers beyond. I have done my best while sticking to the school's rules, sir, but I know it wouldn't be enough."

The Professor found listening to Dion took more than the usual amount of concentration to keep track. It didn't help that he could hear Azorma suggesting Dion's future colleagues were attractive in the back of his head, and wondered what she'd make of the younger trainee.

"I'm also aware the Auror field is much more than what most people think. Most students don't think of inner-office and multi-floor politics, administration, ethics, and so on when they think Auror. And while it would be a lie to say I've always ignored the 'swinging on the chandeliers' fantasy of criminal arrest, it's not what I expect, or hope for, when entering the job, sir."

"Good." Professor Storm replied gruffly. "Sounds as if you have everything wrapped up then Fayette." He leafed the page of his markbook over, and then snapped it shut, placing it to one side.
"What do you wish to achieve out of this conversation?" He asked Dion directly, turning his tired gaze to the student. Unlike the students during the week, he lacked the energy and mental will to twist Dion's reasoning so immediately. Instead, he chose the route of self-doubt, leading to arrogance on the part of the boy.
"You've painted yourself to be quite the poster boy for the Department, though undoubtedly that was your intent?"

The Professor's gruff manner was quite off-putting, he was finding. Dion didn't walk into every interview at school expecting unadulterated praise, of course, but there was such a thing as...habit. Learned expectations, perhaps.

"Yes, sir," he said, in a blanket acknowledgement. Yes. He did have a lot of things wrapped up. Planning was, after all, one of his many strong points. He hadn't overlooked a thing. Except...

"Somewhat, yes, sir. I simply have high expectations of myself." That might sound arrogant, but it was true. He held himself to the highest standard of all. "What I was hoping, sir, was that you could relay..." He paused, struggling for words, momentarily. The Ignan Storm he had first met with was somehow much easier to ask than this grumpy, sour and withdrawn one.

"I was hoping you would be able to relay some reality, sir," he said, finally. "Since you've clearly experienced plenty of that." A slightly jab? Perhaps. But, again, a truth. 

Dion didn't deserve the treatment Ignan was choosing to apply that morning. His irritation with life, aurors, his precarious position at the school from that weekend were all clouding his mind.

The Professor admired the young man, he certainly had his head screwed on a little tighter than his brother.

"Somewhat, yes, Sir." Dion replied to him and Ignan raised his cup of tea and drank from it in long, slow sips. "I simply have high expectations of myself."

"Mm." The Professor replied incoherently, though in approval.

"What I was hoping, Sir, was that you could relay…" Ignan placed the teacup back down, though still held the saucer in one hand, watching Dion. "I was hoping you would be able to relay some reality, Sir. Since you've clearly experienced plenty of that."

The teacup went to one side on the desk and the Professor adjusted his seated position.
"I'm only in my sixties, Fayette." He cautioned the teenager. Such a comment could have been construed that he looked old beyond his years.

Which he did.

"I cannot prepare you adequately for what you will be expected to take on and cope with as an auror, Fayette. The training you will receive once you leave here will help, but it can only prepare you so far." He gave a quiet sigh, resting his left elbow on the desk and lowered his gaze a moment to think.

"With the honour comes a destruction of your time - it will consume you, it always does to the best. The thrill of the chase is addictive, well, you know it on the Quidditch pitch, but when its not sport, but life, death and incomprehensible magic you've never experienced - it changes you."

The Professor's blue-grey gaze raised and fixed itself upon Dion again.
"I served in Germany during the first Voldemort rising. You will be serving here, in peacetime - though subjective given the unusual occurrences of late."

Professor Storm gave a slight shrug to his shoulders,
"Either way, you will see men beside you fall, turn mad, take impossible and almost certainly deadly risks, and turn on you at the darkest times. Always remember, despite your hatred for those you seek to capture, you are no better than they are for your ability to kill, maim and destroy. Lives, families, homes… minds."

His gaze moved away and he glared at the sandtimer on his desk with malice.

"For what its worth, Dion," The Hufflepuff's Professor spoke softly, using the student's forename, still looking to the sandtimer, "I believe you will make a fine auror." His gaze moved to Dion curiously, to see what effect a compliment made.
"Don't let me down."

Dion smiled, slightly. "You always tell us such horror stories," he confessed, the Professor's praise allowing him some degree of informality. "I always attempt to assume nothing like that would happen in England, and then I read the Prophet and..." He raised his hands, palms up.

"If I can be a bit cynical, sir, the current Aurors seem a bit..." He trailed off, considering his next words carefully. "More devious than the classic chest-pounding type, sir. Though they are rather emotional." He crossed his arms. "One of them, Trevelyan, is certainly a thinker." The others seemed young, was the best term for it. Cynical, yes, but not what he expected from Respectable Gentlemen.

"Frankly, sir, I'm worried my involvement with SAWs might be an issue." The set of his jaw and posture indicated he wasn't about to take it back, however.

"If I can be a bit cynical, sir, the current Aurors seem a bit..." Dion began, "More devious than the classic chest-pounding type, sir. Though they are rather emotional. One of them, Trevelyan, is certainly a thinker."

"Hmph." Ignan replied to that. "Then again so are the most brilliant of criminals." He did not want to discuss Jonas Trevelyan with a student. He doubted it would be too long before the auror turned up on his doorstep. Really he was surprised he hadn't already.

"Frankly, sir, I'm worried my involvement with SAWs might be an issue."

"Why?" He asked, frowning and sitting up a little straighter. "There are far worse things to be involved with. If others despite or ridicule you for your beliefs, and you cannot cope, you need to grow a backbone - or conform." Folding his arms, mirroring Dion, he added, "The best people refuse to." The Professor gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"If you were applying to capture them, then it would be hypocritical, certainly. Why do you feel its such an issue?" He asked Dion directly, his eyes narrowing again as fatigue from a night of thinking ate away at his concentration.

Arms still crossed, Dion paused again before he answered, an eyebrow quirking. "It's not that I can't handle ridicule, sir. I've been a SAWs member long enough to get over that." Except when it was unexpected. "It's one thing, however, to be ridiculed by coworkers; it's another to have the person who makes the hiring decisions feel that way, too." He wasn't sure how much of an issue that would be, really, but it certainly worried him. Especially in the cases of Fauna or any of the others. "Miss Raynor seems unlikely to fire me - or any of the others - based on that, but..."

He tilted his head, though, at Ignan's last comment. "Hypocritical, sir?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his tone. He recovered to answer, though. "I simply...worry. I have no intention of giving up on that cause, but I'd rather not be turned down or fired two weeks in because of it. Or see my friends lose their jobs because they're not as good at handling themselves as I am."

"Hypocritical, sir? I simply...worry. I have no intention of giving up on that cause, but I'd rather not be turned down or fired two weeks in because of it. Or see my friends lose their jobs because they're not as good at handling themselves as I am."

"I meant, hypocritical if you were to apply to capture werewolves." Ignan explained reasonably, his hackles finally starting to drop from his initial fury at being interrupted in his sorrow-wallowing.
"Dion, sometimes you have to be selfish. Each to their own. If your friends who join the Department alongside you cannot handle their emotions throughout training then there may be good reason they are asked to find alternative employment. It isn't for everyone. You have done your research, you have the skills, strength and temperament to lead and command. Others will find their own way to serve, or they will discover it may not be for them."

The Professor gave the slightest of shrugs, continuing to keep eye contact with the teenager,
"You cannot fight their battles, and you cannot protect everyone. That is the first lesson to accept. Try by all means, but be careful. As we discuss in the classroom, you are of no use to anyone in your team if you romantically swoop in to save lives, only to become injured. That said, I believe you know that, but perhaps my reiteration of it is helping...?"

Ignan tilted his head a little quizzically.
"If you were seeking tales of duty, then it sounded like the ones offered by Trevelyan and his colleagues on the Saturday were a little far fetched."

Dion nodded, hiding his quiet embarassement less well than he'd hoped to. "Well," he said, since explaining quickly helped to hide better than sitting silently, "Not exactly, sir. The capture of rogue werewolves and the protection of the public from them should be priority in all dealings with them, sir. It's the treatment of them the rest of the time we hope to change. They're dangerous and life-threatening on the full moon, but the other 29 days, they're just as dangerous as any other wizard." He sighed, suddenly. "Until something changed the rules, that was the case...." Direwolves. Could they have picked a worse time?

He nodded to Ignan's assessment, however. The man was right; as much as he hated to admit it. Maybe he was a Hufflepuff, deep down, the Sorting Hat's confusion aside.

"It's helping, sir," he assured the man, and with a slight smile, he shook his head. "They were far-fetched indeed. They were encouraging any want-to-be-Aurors to write to Head Auror Raynor every day telling her how wonderful they were and...that sort of thing. Their panel was much better, but for those that didn't attend the panel, they gave a rather..." He struggled for words for a moment. "A rather unprofessional impression, frankly."

"They were far-fetched indeed. They were encouraging any want-to-be-Aurors to write to Head Auror Raynor every day telling her how wonderful they were and...that sort of thing. Their panel was much better, but for those that didn't attend the panel, they gave a rather... A rather unprofessional impression, frankly."

"Hmm." Ignan replied thoughtfully. "It might be a tactical ploy though, to encourage those to wind up their senior? But mildly dishonest, agreed. I very much doubt the honour of standing talking to students is given to the finest of Madam Raynor's minions, would you?" He gave a deep sigh, feeling fatigued from not sleeping since Friday evening, and even then not well.

"Unfortunately, and in some ways fortunately, I am not well acquainted with the auror office staff, though I can make enquiries for you to meet serving aurors if you feel it would benefit your application?" Looking to Dion for confirmation that he might take up the offer, he noted something briefly.

"Well, if there is anything else you wish to enquire from me, you know to ask at an appropriate time, Fayette, but all is in order here." Placing down the quill, he gave the seventh year a nod.

Dion nodded; it was a possibility, certainly, but he doubted it was a ploy. Those present being low on the totem pole...? Well, if their unprofessional behavior was any indication, that was much, much more likely.

Dion could have called the Aurors plenty of things; but to him, for a superior to be unprofessional was a cardinal sin. This rather naive feeling might one day soon vanish; but for now, Dion remained annoyed by their behavior. There were things one did not do when trying to make a good impression.

He stood, when Ignan had finished, and bowed his head respectfully.

"Thank you for your advice and input, sir. If you allow it, I may seek your counsel again," he said, once again assuming his military-like discipline and his respectful tone.  "Have a good day, sir," he added, as he left, and there was just a hint of curiosity there. Of course, Dion would never know the source of his professor's temper. But he could always wonder...