Regardless of how shaken Harry felt by the crumbling image of his father—The Easter holidays were coming to an end,.
And John had remained completely out of sight.
Even Malfoy, who ca looking for him several tis, never managed to catch a glimpse.
In the end, Malfoy didn't have ti to look for John anymore either.
Fifth and seventh years were the busiest—fifth-years were buried in O.W.L. preparations, and seventh-years had to pass their N.E.W.T.s.
Granted, the N.E.W.T. exams weren't mandatory, but the certificates were an important credential—essential stepping stones for most jobs.
Malfoy sat in the library, watching the sweaty seventh-years studying like their lives depended on it, as if he could see his own future after passing the exams.
"Are we going to have to study like that in seventh year too?" Malfoy felt utterly hopeless.
Daphne dealt him a cruel blow. "You need to get at least an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L.s just to qualify for N.E.W.T.-level classes. If you don't et the requirent, you won't even have the right to suffer like them."
"Daphne, John's not here right now, and why are you turning more and more into Pansy?"
Malfoy seriously suspected Pansy and Daphne had switched souls. How else could Daphne beco so vicious?
Co on, as the resident prince of Slytherin, how could he be outdone by those idiots?
Brimming with confidence, Malfoy opened his textbook and fell into deep thought.
"Wait… did we even cover this chapter?"
"When you and Potter were busy making goo-goo eyes at each other, Professor Hilder covered it," Daphne replied without even lifting her head.
Malfoy cursed under his breath. Damn class—how dare it sneak past him like that?
He had no choice but to work hard catching up on what he'd missed. Fortunately, he had a top-student friend.
But when he went looking for Cedric, he was promptly kicked out.
Cedric was busy tutoring Cho Chang one-on-one.
That's the benefit of having a boyfriend two years older.
Malfoy could only slink back, tail between his legs, to Daphne—and study alongside Pansy, enduring their endless mockery like ti itself had slowed to a crawl.
And so, the Easter holiday gradually ca to a close.
On a table in the Slytherin common room, several new pamphlets about various wizarding careers had appeared, and a notice was posted on the bulletin board:
—"Career Advice. All fifth-year students must et with their Head of House during the first week of the sumr term to discuss future employnt plans."—
Malfoy had long since made up his mind about his future career. He picked up a brochure about Quidditch clubs and started reading.
"You want to be a professional player?"
A voice spoke up behind him. Malfoy's lips curled into a smile as he turned around. "John, you finally ca out of that place?"
John's complexion was no longer so pale. He chuckled lightly and said, "Trust , you wouldn't last a week in there."
"If you give a Firebolt, I could take care of it for a whole week," Malfoy shrugged. "Of course I want to beco a professional Quidditch player—sounds cool, doesn't it?"
"What about you, Daphne?" John noticed Daphne holding an Auror recruitnt guide and asked in surprise, "You want to beco an Auror?"
"It's the best place to hone yourself," Daphne replied, glancing at John with a hint of concern. "And the Head of the Auror Office has a chance to be directly promoted to the position of Departnt Head."
"Your ambition's pretty big," Malfoy smacked his lips.
Daphne said proudly, "The Greengrass family has never lacked ambition."
"What about you, John?" Daphne turned her beautiful eyes on him. "What do you want to do in the future?"
John paused, then smiled. "Naturally, I'll beco soone important."
"Like Daphne's departnt head?" Malfoy interjected.
John smiled. "Maybe even more important." (P.S. My man can employ all of them rn and he still wants to 'beco' soone more important lol)
Malfoy and Daphne's eyes lit up. That kind of ambition—that was the mark of a true Slytherin king.
In fact, for most Slytherins, career planning wasn't sothing left until fifth year. Many already had goals well before then.
This had a lot to do with their families—those Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families all had businesses or legacies to inherit.
They would either succeed the family enterprise, or had already found personal interests within it.
That's what made pure-bloods different from other families—they were older, and far more deliberate in their planning.
Just like the Greengrass family, they had contact with many Ministry officials, which was why Daphne knew more insider information.
It wasn't strange that Malfoy wanted to beco a professional Quidditch player. If needed, the Malfoy family could even form a team of their own.
That's the difference that cos from connections and wealth—creating a broader perspective.
…
Unlike the Slytherins who all had clear goals, things were much ssier in the Gryffindor common room.
"I don't want to be a Healer."
Ron was buried in a flyer that bore a symbol of a bone and wand—clearly from St. Mungo's Hospital.
"To qualify, you need at least an 'E' in O.W.L. Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts…"
Reading the requirents, Ron looked absolutely crushed.
"That's a job with a lot of responsibility, isn't it?" Hermione said casually, tossing over a booklet with a silver cross on the cover. "You can look at this one—also for healers, but not quite as demanding."
"Silver Cross Hospital—recruiting Healers, Caregivers, Attendants, and Nutritionists.
Oh no—Caregivers need 'O' grades in Herbology and Potions. Attendants don't require that much, but the pay isn't very good."
Harry leaned in to look and said, "Silver Cross Hospital… that's Johnny Silverhand's place, right?"
"Yeah, it's in Knockturn Alley," Hermione replied, still frowning as she flipped through pamphlets from Silverhand Angel Investors and the Silverhand Winery. "Even so, the pay is really high. There are way too many flyers about Silverhand."
"Johnny Silverhand's money could probably bury my whole family," Ron muttered.
Harry spotted a flyer among the pile advertising a position for a Gringotts Curse-Breaker. He thought Hermione might be interested.
Hermione glanced at it and rejected it imdiately. She didn't like the idea of working at a bank, and she liked dealing with goblins even less.
"Harry, here's sothing about Auror training—want to take a look?" Ron called out. Harry looked over to see him holding a pamphlet on Auror training.
Because of education reforms, it was rare for Auror recruitnt to focus on students in school.
Originally, that position was only available through promotion from within the Hit Wizard ranks. Direct recruitnt ant jumping straight into being an Auror, so naturally, the requirents were extrely strict.
Just as Harry was about to take a look, Fred and George walked over.
"Ginny talked to us about your situation—you want to talk to Sirius?"
Hermione pushed aside her pile of Silverhand pamphlets as Harry tried to act casual. "Yeah, I want to talk to him."
"Why not just write to him directly?" Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously.
Harry thought she looked a bit like John when she was like this. "Umbridge is checking all the mail now—I don't want her seeing it."
That pink toad's obsession with control was insane—even the fireplaces were being monitored.
"Stop overthinking. This term's almost over," Hermione said sternly. "Owls and fireplaces, nothing escapes her inspections."
George grinned and said, "That's why you'll be using our fireplace."
Fred continued, "There's one House that isn't being monitored."
"You an…" Harry hesitated. "Slytherin?"
"Exactly. That woman doesn't dare spy on the purebloods," George snapped his fingers, clearly pleased.
"Of course, you'd need the password to sneak in—and you can't let anyone see you."
As he said that, Fred's gaze shifted to Hermione.
Hermione looked completely confused. George, sitting on the left side of the sofa near her, said casually, "Naturally, it has to be you, our perfect Miss Know-It-All."
"You're the only Gryffindor student the King of Slytherin would ever let in," Fred added, sitting on her right.
Their identical faces flanked Hermione, cutting off any route of escape. Hermione kept a stern face and replied seriously, "John might not agree. You both know he doesn't like Sirius."
Thinking about how John had nearly sliced off Sirius's hand, Harry had to admit it didn't seem very likely either.
But the twins encouraged Hermione to give it a try—they'd already arranged a eting with John for her.
"What? When did this happen?!" Hermione exclaid in shock.
The twins exchanged mischievous winks. Fred pretended to check his watch. "From here to the covered bridge… hmm, fifteen minutes should do it."
"You two are insane!" Hermione shrieked and jumped up to run out.
Harry and Ron quickly followed after her.
The Weasley twins chuckled and high-fived each other.
By the ti the Golden Trio arrived at the covered bridge, panting and out of breath, John was strolling over at a leisurely pace.
"Wait, Harry, stop," Ron yanked Harry back, nearly making him trip.
Harry was about to ask why when he saw Ron grimace like he was constipated. "I just saw Malfoy."
He looked over and indeed spotted Malfoy clutching a Potions textbook, looking at it in visible agony.
If Malfoy saw them, there was no doubt he'd pick a fight.
On that point, both Harry and Ron were self-aware enough to avoid the risk.
Hermione ran past Malfoy, who only glanced at her before lowering his head again.
Once she reached the covered bridge, Hermione took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself.
Seeing how flustered she looked, John hesitated. "This ergency of yours—is it really that urgent?"
Catching her breath, Hermione couldn't help but ntally vow to give those two a good scolding when she got back.
_________
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