The Easter break arrived faster than normal, most likely due to the deluge of studying all of the fifth years were doing and taking a break from that now meant spending hours poring over the different pamphlets that had been placed out along with a notice for Careers advice from their heads of house.

"This one seems interesting," Susan says, passing Cynthia the pamphlet on wizard banking to look at.

"Mm, I always imagined you working in the ministry like your aunt, not out in the wild world as a curse breaker." Cynthia says.

"I think you'd be great at it," Eleanor chimes in, looking up from the pamphlet in her hand.

"What're you going to do?" Susan says, snatching it back.

Cynthia snorts lightly, "Journalism of course, and maybe authoring my own books. I could become the next Lockhart."

"Ahh yes, because claiming others work as your own and then obliviating your own mind is truly something to be aspired to." Susan says.

"I meant fame wise, smart ass."

"Eleanor? What do you think you'd like to do?"

"Healing," she says, handing them the pamphlet.

"Oof, at least an 'E' in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Cynthia says looking it over.

"It's been nice knowing you," Susan says, "Because with the amount of studying you'll be doing we'll never see you."

"When's your meeting?" Eleanor asks them.

"Susan's is Tuesday, and I'm on Wednesday, don't you have yours tomorrow?"

"Yup," Eleanor says, wondering what advice Professor Sprout would give her, would she tell her not to even think of taking alchemy with the grades she would need to maintain in her other classes?

She didn't have to wait long to find out. The next morning, while the others went off to Charms, Eleanor made her way to the head of Hufflepuff's office, knocking lightly on the door before entering.

"Ah, Miss Wicks, come in, come in."

Taking a seat opposite Professor Sprout, Eleanor notices another person sitting in the corner, clipboard in hand.

"Professor Umbridge is just here to observe, pretend she isn't here," Professor Sprout says, stressing the last part.

"So, have you had any thoughts as to what you would like to do when you leave Hogwarts?"

"Healing." She says without hesitation.

"Ah yes, a very noble career I must say. Are you aware that it requires no lower than Exceeds Expectations in all your classes?"

"I am."

"And I believe you are also wishing to pursue alchemy next year, on the condition Professors Snape and McGonagall give their approval?"

"Yes."

"And you believe you can handle the study load?"

"I do." Eleanor says, trying her best to ignore the scratching of a quill on paper from behind her.

"Very well, in addition to your N.E.W.T.S here you would undergo further education and exams at St Mungos, I believe two years of theory and then you would be a trainee healer placed under someone fully qualified to shadow and learn from."

"Have I missed anything Professor Umbridge?" Sprout asks, turning to eye the new headmistress.

"Ahem. I believe you've covered it all. Though I would stress the high standards St Mungos has for accepting students and there will be no exceptions should you not achieve even one of the required grades."

"Th-thank you," Eleanor says, before leaving the room, another fifth year outside waiting their turn.

"How was it?" Cynthia asks when Eleanor catches up with them later in the day.

"Okay, be warned though, Umbridge is sitting in on the interviews."

"Oh. On second thought I don't think I'll be going."

Laughing they turn down a corridor when the noise of a commotion gets their attention from the direction of the Entrance Hall.

"What the?"

"Oh, it's probably Fred and George. He was talking to me last night, they're going to leave I think." Cynthia says as they turn to follow the source of the noise.

"Are you okay with him going?"

"I encouraged it actually, it's what they want to do. They don't need their N.E.W.T.s and who would want to stay here? Besides, I have another two years to go. He was going to finish at the end of this year anyway, so I might as well get used to writing to him."

Rounding a corner they find a scene much like when Trelawny was fired as students fill up the stairway down into the Entrance Hall, even Peeves was hovering about watching the commotion. And there, in the centre of it all was Fred and George with the looks of someone who's just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Before Umbridge can dole out a punishment though, the twins summon their brooms which, with a loud crash, come flying out of Umbridge's office to clatter at their feet.

"We won't be seeing you."

"Yeah don't bother keeping in touch."

Mounting their brooms they look at the crowd of students gathered, "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp as demonstrated upstairs, come to ninety-three Diagon Alley - Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Our new premises!"

The two of them flew into the air, yelling before they leave, "Give her hell from us Peeves."

To everyone's surprise Peeves sprang to a salute as the two sped away on their brooms.

"Well." Cynthia says.

"That was dramatic."

"I love that boy."

"I think most of the school does right now," Susan says, popping up behind them.

"Come on, let's get out of here before Umbridge takes her rage out on us," Eleanor says, pulling the other two away.

For the rest of the week the portable swamp the twins had set off in the castle remained, many of the teachers claiming they couldn't do anything about it. Although Eleanor appreciated the trouble it was causing Umbridge it did mean that when she passed through on her way to lessons with Malfoy she had to wait for Filch to ferry her across.

"I'm late I know," she says as she slides onto the seat opposite Malfoy.

He barely acknowledged her arrival and within a few minutes they were both in the same routine of checking each other's work and offering their corrections or advice.

"Why are you so distracted tonight?" Malfoy asks after an hour when Eleanor had again hastily written the wrong thing down. "Daydreaming about holding hands with your boyfriend?"

"Holding hands?" Eleanor asks, barely paying attention with her attention still on her notes.

"Yeah, isn't that all you ever do? It's all I've ever seen you doing around the school. Bet that little kiss on the cheek the other day was a real high for you."

"Now you're just picking a fight."

"No. I'm stating what I've observed. When the two of you are together, you barely look like you're dating. Honestly, aren't you friends with that blue haired freak that's spent the past six months with her tongue down one of those weasley kid's throats?"

"What's that got to do with it?" Eleanor sighs, looking up from the work at Malfoy's snide, smirking face.

"I mean, surely that's got to be frustrating watching your best friend get so much action all the time and you're lucky to get a kiss on the cheek."

"What's it even matter to you?"

"I'm just curious. Is it you who's such a prude, or him?"

"Just because a person doesn't throw themselves on another person every chance they get, doesn't make them a prude."

"No. But it makes them boring, and, in some cases, a damned idiot."

"Can we just get back to work?"

"If that's what you really want."

"It is." Eleanor says, eyeing Malfoy warily until he returns his attention to the notes.

"I'm sorry." He says, "I'm so sorry that you're in such a boring relationship and that you'll never experience what real passion is." He sniggers a little.

Eleanor, fed up with his comments, wacks him hard on the arm with the largest book on the table, "Stop it, or I'll leave."

"And fail your potions exam? You know you need to get an Outstanding in your OWLs to keep doing it. You need me."

She knows he's right. Dropping the book back on the table she glares at him a little longer. "What do you even know about romance? I don't see you with any girl but Parkinson and I pity the guy that chooses her."

"I know things. And not romance, lust, desire, sex they're all just as important."

"Yeah, yeah and you know as much about that as Filch does about casting a spell."

"You'd be surprised by the things I know."

When Eleanor doesn't deign to respond the conversation stops and they manage to return some focus to their work for another hour before they call it quits for the night.

"I can show you if you want," Malfoy says as they pack away their books.

"Show me what?"

"The things I know." A sly grin plays on his mouth and for a second Eleanor takes in how soft his lips look, and how his grey eyes seem to track her every movement.

"Fuck off Malfoy."