you are loved. - r.lupin (ft. THE s.black)

career choices

Remus sat on a chair across from Professor McGonagall's desk as she read Remus' slip of paper. "Mr. Lupin, you seem to excel in Defense Against the Dark Arts," the older woman noticed. "If everything works out how you plan, I think you have a possibility of being a professor here at Hogwarts."

"Really?" he asked. "I really want to be one but I'm not completely sure that everyone would be okay with someone like me on the Hogwarts faculty."

"Someone like you?"

"With my condition and all," Remus said shyly. Professor McGonagall seemed to understand what he was saying and her thin lips formed a tight line.

"We'll worry about that later," she said. "Moving on, I'm sure you know that there is a war." Remus was surprised by the change in the air and he nodded slowly. "Professor Dumbledore has asked me to talk about something with you. There is a secret society, the Order of the Phoenix."

"It consists of few people but people you'd never think. We invite people with certain skills, who excel above the others in different ways. Professor Dumbledore and many of the Order, including myself, think that you would be a perfect fit," Professor McGonagall said. "It's a secret society though so nobody should know about it. You can tell your friends but only if they are in the Order as well."

"How would we know?" Remus asked. "I mean, I would love to be in the Order, but would any of my friends be there?"

"Most of them," she answered vaguely. "We will not be paying you but if we do win the war, I'm sure you'll have all the choices of jobs you would like."

"Have you been asked to talk to Caroline Pettigrew about this?" the werewolf asked.

"I'm not allowed to say."

"Professor, if she happens to be, please don't ask her to join. She shouldn't be forced into this, please," Remus begged. "I know you haven't talked to her yet because the letter 'P' goes after 'L' in the alphabet so you still have a few people before you talk to her. Please don't invite her, Professor."

"I can't promise you anything, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall sighed.

"Please, Professor. That's all I ask," Remus pleaded. "I want her to be safe, more than anything, and this will just paint a target on her back."

"You may leave. Call the next person in please," Professor McGonagall instructed.

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Caroline waited patiently in the chair across from Professor McGonagall's desk. The older woman looked at Caroline's slip of paper and her heart broke inside for the young girl. "Based on the N.E.W.T. classes you've checked off, I assume you want to be an Auror," Professor McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, I really do," Caroline said happily, a faint smile dancing across her lips.

"I'm afraid you cannot become one," the Head of the House informed sadly. "To qualify for Auror training, you must excel in the five required N.E.W.T.s."

"I'm aware of that, Professor. That's why I checked them off," the blonde frowned.

"Yes, but you cannot take these N.E.W.T classes unless you've passed the previous subjects with E's. Your Transfiguration grade last year was an A," Professor McGonagall said sadly.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Caroline asked desperately. "Please Professor, I have nothing else. My whole life I thought I was going to be an Auror, I don't have a back-up."

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Miss Pettigrew," Professor McGonagall responded.

Caroline blinked back tears and stared at her hands. "I'm not sure what else I can do," Caroline whispered. "I don't have a career anymore. Is there one you'd suggest?"