Careers Advice

Careers Advice.

"So, Miss Granger, what did you have in mind?"

Professor McGonagall surveyed Hermione with a piercing gaze, waiting for an answer. Every year it was the same, every year the transfiguration teacher abandoned lessons for a week in order to give the Griffindor fifth years some careers advice.

"Well professor, I had several ideas, I really would like to do something worthwhile, you know, make a difference in the world, I was thinking of maybe taking my campaign for elf-rights further, maybe starting a national trust fund for elves, campaigning for their liberation, raising awareness of the terrible conditions they must suffer..."

Minerva felt her attention slipping. The other members of staff had warned her that she might have to endure something like this. Hermione's S.P.E.W. campaign was well known. The house-elves refused to even go near the Gryffindor common room; frightened that Hermione might somehow set them free against their will.

"Ahem...Miss Granger, not that I don't fully support your ideas, but I can't help thinking that you could invest your many talents in a more worthwhile cause?"

Hermione looked shocked. "But professor, SPEW is worthwhile! Don't you know that these elves aren't even paid? That they must suffer slavery to serve humans who are quite capable of managing alone? And that in some families the house-elves are treated like vermin!" Hermione stopped to take a breath, her cheeks tinged pink with indignation, and continued, "What some house-elves must endure is wrong! It's awful, they're treated like some common flobberworm with no feelings! But they do have feelings! We must fight to help them! We must raise awareness of their conditions!" Hermione stood up, her eyes flashing, and pounded her fist on the table. "We must liberate the house-elves! Give them a chance to make something of their lives! We must FREE THE HOUSE-ELVES!"

Her last words rang out clearly through the empty Transfiguration classroom. Professor McGonagall stared at Hermione as though concerned for her mental health.

"Err...Miss Granger...if you could please sit down, and continue to discuss this...career choice...of yours in a slightly more calm and dignified manner?"

Hermione sat back down, breathing heavily through her nose.

"Now, Hermione," Professor McGonagall continued, "I find your determination to help the house-elves very...err...interesting, as it shows good leadership skills, and that you are strong-minded and concerned for the well-being of others. I'm sure spew is very important to you - "

"It's not spew, it's S-P-E-W, Professor!" interrupted Hermione hotly.

Minerva closed her eyes with a pained expression on her face. This is going to be harder than I thought, she said to herself.

"Yes, S.P.E.W. must be very important to you but don't you see that all these house-elves are happy with their current situation? They don't want to be freed! Of course it is true that some house-elves are treated badly, and would enjoy freedom, but it is a minority. Most house-elves are contended with serving their family. Most house-elves I assure you are treated very well, as are the elves at Hogwarts. Unless, Miss Granger, you are implying that we at hogwarts treat the house-elves badly?" Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

Hermione looked horrified. "Oh no, Professor!"

"Good," said Minerva briskly, "so kindly stop leaving hats around the common room. It terrifies the Hogwarts elves, and they refuse to clean it any more. Being freed to them is a matter of disgrace, it's very hard for a freed house-elf to find a new job, and they are regarded as failures by the rest of the elves. Surely, Miss Granger, you don't want the poor elves to be shunted aside and excluded because they have been freed? Just think, a poor lone house-elf wandering the streets of Diagon Alley at night, in the freezing cold, with nothing but a ragged cloth to cover it. It knocks at shop doors, asking for work, but it is a disgraced elf, no one wants it. The elf finally stops in an alleyway corner, exhausted and hungry, and its last thought is 'if only I hadn't gone to the common room that day, and picked up that hat, then I would still be in my beloved home...'" McGonagall finished dramatically, her voice hushed.

Hermione sat frozen in her seat, a look of horror upon her face. "I never realised..." she squeaked.

"But you still have a choice," said McGonagall earnestly. "You can still save those poor lone house-elves by leaving them to get on with their work!"

Hermione stood up, looking dazed. "I think I'll leave now, Professor," she said.

"That's right, now work hard at your O.W.L.s and get a sensible job as a teacher or something..."

Hermione walked over to the door, and closed it quietly behind her.

Minerva sighed with relief. Hopefully she had persuaded Hermione to give up S.P.E.W. She was a clever girl, and her talents could go to better use. Minerva stood up, left the room and locked the door behind her, and then she walked briskly off to the staff room.

* * * * * * *

"So, Minerva, how did it go?" said Professor Snape smirking.

"Oh, wonderfully, thank you," she said sarcastically.

"So? How long?" said Professor Sprout anxiously.

"It took exactly me exactly twenty-three minutes and eighteen point four seconds to persuade her to give up her ludicrous idea."

There was an outburst of cries and mutterings.

"HA! I told you it would take longer than twenty minutes Severus! You owe me twelve Sickles now!"

"That wasn't me, I said twenty-two minutes, you owe me twelve Sickles Poppy!"

"What? How could that possibly be?"

"I thought it would take longer than that. I never knew you were so persuasive, Minerva!"

"Well never mind, pay up, you owe me two Galleons!"

"I seem to remember," came an amused voice from behind them, "that you all owe me at least three Galleons, fourteen Sickles and nineteen Knuts each?"

Everyone turned round to face Dumbledore.

"I have here an exact record of all the bets placed, and it seems to me that I bet that Minerva would persuade her after exactly twenty-three minutes and eighteen point four seconds?"

There was a stunned silence.

"Aw, man! How do you do it Albus? It's always the same, we can never beat you!" said Professor Flitwick.

Dumbledore tapped the side of his nose, his eyes twinkling. "Come on, pay up!"

Grudgingly, the members of staff took out their wallets and pulled put their money.

"Who is it tomorrow, Minerva?" questioned Professor Sinastra excitedly.

"Neville Longbottom," she answered.

There was a pause as the teachers looked at each other.

"Place your bets, place your bets!" shouted Dumbledore.

The End