"WHAT?"

Pansy's voice echoed around the room. Professor McGonagall frowned.

"Why else do you think the NEWTs are considered so tough?"

"Well, it's not like any other exam has been a piece of cake," Goyle muttered.

"Don't talk of cake," Theo whispered. "It makes me even more hungry."

"But you just ate!"

"Yeah, well, never mind."

"So, now that you know what to expect, I suggest you all start working hard from day one if you want a good grade and a decent job after Hogwarts," McGonagall said. 

"How is that even possible?" Theo said furiously. "They want us to prepare our syllabus for year one through year seven! Can they even test all that in one exam?"

"Forget the testing, do they really suppose we could cram all that stuff into our heads?" Pansy said, eyes wide. "I don't even have any of the books or notes!"

Draco had been jolted truly awake from his stupor for the first time in several days by this grand announcement during the very first lecture of the year, Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. McGonagall had told them a lot of other things, but he hadn't paid very much attention. Though he'd heard that they would be spending two to three months revising years one to six - of course they'd be going really fast - before they actually began the studies for the seventh year.

"At least we have fewer subjects than before," Draco said. "I won't have stupid Herbology. Or History of Magic. Or Care of Magical Creatures with that oaf aka gamekeeper."

"But you're still going to have a lot of subjects if you take a job at Gringotts," Blaise said.

"Yeah, well, if it's going to be anything, it can be Gringotts," he replied. 

The truth was that Draco had never really thought over the subject of his job. He'd never considered working before. And when he had to go for career advice in fifth year, he'd literally just closed his eyes and decided to take the job on whose pamphlet his finger landed on. It just turned out to be something for the wizarding bank - Draco hadn't even known exactly what, since he had no intentions of actually practicing it. Such was his confidence in his father, it made him laugh now. The confidence that had carried over more than two years after that had shattered brutally into mere shards, and now he had begun to underestimate himself so much he didn't think he was fit for any job. So he just carried on with the Gringotts' facade.

It wasn't like Pansy, Blaise, Theo, and Goyle had not tried to raise Draco's opinion of his self-worth before. They'd already had a lot of troubles over that topic, and each time Draco had come off with a worse temper. So now they directed their speech very cautiously whenever a sensitive topic sprung up.

The first lesson wasn't hard, though it wasn't easy as well. They were supposed to revise Year One for the first week, and the theory had leaked out from his head long ago. He completed the practical with a flick of his wand, though, but one or two had some problems turning a match into a needle - their very first Transfiguration lesson of Year One. Anyway, with one thing or the other, by the end of the class, Draco felt drained.

In the Charms classroom, Hermione had reacted much more hysterically to the news about their final exams. Harry told Ron he thought he heard Hermione muttering about planning to make a timetable that very day, and how lucky it was that she had preserved all her notes from the beginning. 

None of them had any problems with the lesson though, and Hermione smiled as she saw Ron perform the Levitating Charm. She remembered his outrageous pronunciation of Wingardium Leviosa years ago, and how she'd corrected him. She remembered his face as he'd seen her perform the little charm correctly - the innocence and the childlike annoyance.

Oh, how she loved him. She'd keep him for herself forever.

***

When Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny returned to Gryffindor Tower after lunch to finally relax after their first day, they saw a notice pinned to the notice board. On reading it, they found that it was about their Career Counselling, to be held that evening.

"Gryffindors to report at 5:30 pm to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom near Professor McGonagall's office," Ginny read out. 

"There's not much time left," Harry said, checking his pocket watch. It was the one Mrs. Weasley had gifted him on his seventeenth birthday and was one of the few prized possessions he had taken with him all through the last year. "We have to get going in a little less than two hours. And why the DADA classroom? Why not the Headmistress' office?"

The four of them flopped down on the saggy, cozy armchairs, and Ron, Harry, and Ginny dozed off. Hermione, wide awake, tiptoed off to the library. She returned an hour and a half later to wake everyone up, and they started off to McGonagall's office.

There was a huge crowd because the seventh and eighth-year Gryffindors were present. People loomed around in pairs and triplets and quadruplets, and sometimes in larger groups. The windows were open to the evening light and a cool breeze ruffled Hermione's hair. The sky outside was orange and pink. McGonagall's voice called out names of the students every now and then through apparent loudspeakers, and each student didn't take more than five minutes as most of them already had their mind set. The crowd thinned slowly. Harry went and came back looking pleased with himself, with a leaflet in his hand. The next name was Hermione's.

She went out, took a turn, and reached the first door that used to be McGonagall's when she was only a Transfiguration teacher. Now, of course, her proper office was the one above the stone gargoyle, the office of the Headmistress.

She knocked and a voice from inside told her to come in. She entered and took a seat opposite the teacher. A glass of water was kept for her, along with a tin of biscuits. McGonagall offered her some and she refused politely before the main topic came up.

"So, Ms. Granger, you have been called here to think once more and finalize your plans for your future. As you might expect, this will be your last feasible chance to entertain any change of heart. According to the list here," she  consulted a parchment, adjusting her spectacles on the bridge of her nose, "in the career counseling in the fifth year, you were going for an Auror."

"Yes, professor, and I'm still going for the same," Hermione replied. "I haven't even thought of going for something else."

"That is very well then," McGonagall said, shuffling some papers and handing her a small, dark leaflet. "You know which subjects you need, don't you?"

"Of course," Hermione answered promptly. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms."

"And based on your previous record, you shouldn't have problems in securing at least an Exceeds Expectations in all the subjects, which is the minimum grade you need to move forward for Auror training. Training will also need a further three years, so unless you are ready for even more studies and examinations after school, you should look for something else."

"No, professor, I'm completely ready."

"Then that's alright." She tapped on a piece of parchment with her wand and handed Hermione her timetable. "I didn't give them out earlier because I wanted to make sure you only had the right subjects. Now you may go."

Hermione thanked her and got up. When she was at the door, she turned back.

"May I ask you a question, Professor?"

McGonagall looked up. "Of course."

"Professor, why did you call us to this room? I mean, why not the Headmistress' room?"

McGonagall smiled.

"I only go there when I have specifically administrative work - Headmistress' work. At other times, I stay here. This place feels more like home. Also," she stood up, holding the door open, "that office still belongs to Albus."

***

It was finally Draco's turn to go in.

He took the same route from the now almost empty classroom to the teacher's office as the one many people had taken before him. He entered and took the seat opposite McGonagall. And as she had done for Hermione, she offered Draco a biscuit, which he refused, and then set the stage for him to be open about his dreams.

"Actually, Professor, I want to go for a banking job," Draco said, false cheer in his voice. "But could I have a look at the pamphlets once more?"

McGonagall, frowning slightly, shuffled the leaflets and handed him the four that were related to banking. Draco looked at their covers, trying to remember which one it was that he'd chosen in his fifth year. The third one clicked - it was a greenish-gold leaflet, with a description that matched:

'Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure, and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad!'

"Yes, this is the one," Draco told McGonagall. "Curse-breaker. That's what I'm opting for."

"Okay," the teacher said slowly. "Well, this post requires Defence Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, and Charms. Looking at your previous record, I can say that you'll be able to manage an Exceeds Expectations in all subjects except Arithmancy - you're averaging an Acceptable at the moment. You need to work hard to bring your Arithmancy up to scratch because the job requires a minimum of an E grade. There's an after-school training period of two years, and not many qualify. So you must start working hard. And," she tapped a parchment again as she had done for Hermione, "here's your timetable."

"Got it. Thank you, Professor."

He exited the room. His feet took him to his dormitory without any actual thought, but he had a sense of foreboding about it. He didn't know why - it was perfectly legal to go to one's dormitory on a Monday evening after a meeting with a teacher. 

The answer came to him in the form of an envelope on his four-poster. And, the strange thing was, the seal was already broken.