Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it and it is likely from Order of the Phoenix by JKR.

What Do You Want to Do When You Grow Up?

Draco stood staring at the announcement that appeared on the notice board over the Easter holidays whilst he was away stuffing chocolate eggs down his throat while studying in the silence of the Black Family library. The notice was accompanied by an assortment of pamphlets, leaflets, and notices about various careers available in the wizarding community on the tables in the Common Room. The combination of these items made Draco feel ill.

"Why are you green?" Harry asked as he sifted through some of the information on the table. "Didn't you do this already?"

"Yes. But it didn't matter," Draco hissed. "I was going to do the same as those before me: mind the manor. I'd make connections in the Ministry, but I'd never hold a real job. I'd be…"

Draco had no idea how to describe what wizards of his standing did— mostly because he couldn't say he'd be like Sirius or Regulus. Neither of the Black brothers spent their days as Draco's father had and his father's before. Draco was pretty sure Sirius had no clue he even had a study to conduct business within. While Regulus likely knew where the study was located, he spent no time in it nor at the Ministry stuffing gold into the pockets of politicians.

"Oh, yeah. Royalty," Harry said, nodding his head in understanding. "When are you scheduled to meet with McGonagall?"

"After you on Monday," Draco replied.

"Here. Read about Healing," Atlanta offered joining them and handing Draco a leaflet containing the crossed bones-and-wand emblem of St. Mungo's on the front. "You're smart. I'm sure you'll get an E on the NEWTS in everything."

"This is all frightening," Ginny muttered, sitting down and grabbing one marked SO YOU THINK YOU'D LIKE TO WORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS. "How are we supposed to know what we want to do when we grow up?"

"Exactly," Draco agreed, eyeing Harry who had picked up one titled HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAIN SECURITY TROLLS?

"I'd like to be an Auror," Harry proclaimed, handing Draco the pamphlet on the trolls. "You can train trolls."

Draco glared at Harry.

"What? You've no clue what to do because you're basically royalty. I mean, most of them go into the armed services before they take up royal duties. Well, if they're dudes."

"Dudes?" Draco drawled.

"I heard it on TV," Harry defended.

"Tee vee?" Ginny asked, looking curious.

"Telly," Atlanta said, picking up MAKE A BANG AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS AND CATASTROPHES.

Ginny still looked confused, but no one clued her in on what a TV was or what the hell dudes were.

"Why do you even need a career? Aren't both of you going to be scions of the Nobel House of Black?" Atlanta inquired, tossing a leaflet down. She pinned the pair with her amber-blue eyes, which were more amber than blue today.

"No. I'm going to be an Auror. Sirius was one before…you know," Harry said. "It's what I want to do."

"I'm going to play Quidditch," Ginny announced, sitting back and crossing her arms across her chest.

Atlanta gave her a look, then turned to Draco.

"I don't know," Draco admitted.

Last time, he'd stated he wanted to be a Potions Masters, like Snape. Mostly to suck up, partly because he liked Potions and he needed something to claim to want to be studying towards. Being a Master was an acceptable position for someone like Draco. Not that he'd actually have gone on to be a Potions Master, due to his position within society. Just like those princes in the Muggle world would never go on to become…professors or doctors or whatever the equivalent of Potions Masters were in the Muggle world.

But, since he wasn't under his father's thumb, he might be able to have a career. He'd never thought about it due to the fact he wasn't sure if he'd even live to see seventeen again. If Voldemort returned, he'd not need a career because he'd be fighting for his life and likely in hiding. However, if they defeated Voldemort before he got anywhere, Draco would need something to do. He leaned forward to look through the papers.

By the end of the evening, Draco had less of an idea of what he wanted to do and more what he had no interest in doing.

Draco arrived early at McGongall's office for his meeting. He'd gone to the first half of Runes, which was a mistake as he'd had to leave as the professor was getting to explaining something complicated. He'd have to have Hermione explain it later. Draco stood outside the office and heard raised voices on the other side of the door. A moment later, the door swung open and Harry hurried out, looking a like he couldn't believe what he'd seen. The shouting continued as Harry shut the door.

"What happened?" Draco asked, standing up.

"Umbridge was in there," Harry whispered. "She wasn't thrilled to hear I wanted to be an Auror."

"They are fighting about that?"

"McGonagall said she'd do everything she could to make sure I became one. Umbridge is less than pleased," Harry said. The shouting got louder. Harry grinned and said, "I better get going. I'll see you later."

"Yes, I'll likely miss most of DADA."

"Lucky," Harry muttered, ambling off down the hallway.

After another ten minutes, the door wretched open and Umbridge stormed out of the office, a thunder cloud above her head. Draco waited a moment before he poked his head into the office. McGongall looked like a cat who'd got the canary. She quickly straightened her glasses and peered at Draco.

"Are you going to stand there all afternoon or are you going to come in, Mr Malfoy?"

Draco entered, closing the door behind him. He took the seat across from her desk and set his bag on the ground. She shuffled through the papers on her desk till she found what she was looking for.

"This meeting is to discuss ideas for what career you would like to work towards and what classes you'll need to take in sixth and seventh year," McGongall started, "have you any thoughts about what you'd like to do upon leaving Hogwarts?"

"No."

McGongall gave Draco a blank look before looking back at the parchment in her hands.

"You have top grades in all subjects," she said. "You can do anything you want if you get OWLS in each. But, what you want to do will determine which subjects you'll be taking at NEWT level."

"Yes. I know. I have no idea what I'd like to do."

"Honestly, Mr Malfoy, you must have some idea."

"When I was little I wanted to be a dragon."

"A dragon?"

"Yes. Not something I can really aspire to, is it?" Draco asked a little bitterly. "I never expected to need or to be able to have a career."

"No. I guess you would not," McGonagall agreed. "What has changed?"

"I have no desire to be my father."

McGongall stared at him, her mouth twitching a little as if she wanted to say something but knew she shouldn't.

"Potter wishes to be an Auror."

"Yes. He's told me."

"You could be one as well," McGongall stated. "Sirius Black was one."

"He'd been disinherited by that point. Or so the world thought."

"He'd be one now if they'd let him," she said. "It is a respectable career and you could keep Potter out of trouble."

Draco snorted, then apologized.

"No need to apologize, Mr Malfoy. There's a reason Mr Potter is still with us and I have a feeling you and Miss Granger are to thank for that."

Draco smirked. "I never thought of being an Auror."

"Well, think on it. Here is the list of classes you'd need. And they'd be extra pleased if you were proficient in Runes and Airthmancy," McGongall said, eyeing his classes. "Though you do not need to continue on with those if you wish not to."

"Alright."

"Or, you could get your mastery in something that attracts your attention," McGongall suggested. "Not many get a mastery these days." She paused as she stared at the paper that told her all about Draco. "You might want to look into Spellsmithing."

McGongall pushed forward a leaflet that Draco had never seen. He took it slowly and stared at the fancy looking writing on the cover.

"It's a hard program to get into, but you do have top marks in everything, only trailing behind Miss Granger. And there has not been a Spellsmith since the seventies from Hogwarts. It might be time."

"I've never invented spells before," Draco said quietly.

"There's always time to begin. Read that, do some research. If you have any further questions, please come to see me. Or, if you wish, you can write to the headquarters. I'm sure they will answer any questions you might have."

Draco dumbly nodded.

McGonagall shooed him out of her office. Draco headed back to the Gryffindor Tower and into the dormitory. He didn't need to ask McGonagall or write the Spellsmith headquarters. There was a Spellsmith living in the dormitory (unless he was with Atlanta).

"Tom?"

Tom poked his head out from behind Harry's bed curtains, looking concerned.

"What? Where is Harry?"

"In DADA. McGongall suggested I look into becoming a spellsmith."

Tom straightened and oozed out of the bed and floated a little over to where Draco was standing. He gazed at the dark blue pamphlet in Draco's hands. If Draco didn't know any better, he'd say Tom looked almost wistful at the sight of the silver writing dancing across the cover.

"It's a hard path. They do not take anyone."

"I know. Last person they took was you and Addy, wasn't it?"

Tom nodded. "They make good money."

"That's not important to me," Draco admitted. "What does it really entail? I know they invent spells, but how?"

Tom looked at Draco, his blue eye glittering in a manner Draco had never witnessed before. Tom began to spew out information on his livelihood and Draco witness yet another facet of Tom Riddle the world had been robbed: teacher.

It'd never occurred to Draco before, but Tom Riddle was brilliant at explaining things when he wanted to be helpful. He had a passion and would have made a brilliant professor.

Voldemort could have been a professor. Likely for DADA. Now, that would have been…strange.

"DRACO!"

Tom and Draco startled as the dormitory door slammed open and Harry appeared, winded and excited. He couldn't form a sentence but tugged on Draco's arm while stuffing Tom's block into his pocket.

"What?"

Harry shook with excitement and said a jumble of noises that might have been words.

"He's lost it," Tom muttered, going into said insane boy's pocket.

Draco allowed himself to be dragged out of the dormitory and out of the tower. Harry did not regain his words throughout the entire trip to the Entrance Hall. Like when Trelawney was sacked, there was a huge crowed gathered. Harry pushed his way through to the railing (several people were not happy that Draco was now blocking their view). Draco looked around, realizing what was going on by the fact several students who were on the main level were covered in a strange substance. The Weasley twins stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall, clearly cornered by the Inquisitional Squad.

"SO!" Umbridge triumphantly boomed, marching out of the parting crowd with a look of pure glee on her toady face. "So, you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

Remembering that bit of spell work, Draco muttered, "Brilliant."

Harry squeaked.

"Pretty amusing, yeah," Twin One said, looking at Umbridge without the slightest sign of fear.

Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," he wheezed, holding a piece of parchment close to his chest as if it were the meaning to life itself. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting. Oh, let me do it, Headmistress, let me do it."

"Very good, Arugus," she proclaimed, then turned to face the twins once more. "You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what?" Twin One asked, folding his arms across his chest, peering at Umbridge as if she were in fact a toad. "I don't think we are."

He turned to Twin Two.

"Yeah," Twin Two agreed, nodding his head. "I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"You know, George, I agree."

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

Before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together, "Accio Brooms!"

A loud crash sounded in the distance and two brooms came flying down the hall, heavy chains trailing along behind. The brooms did not stop till they were safely in the hands of their owners, no matter what the iron chains wanted. The crowd began muttering, a shiver of excitement palpable.

"We won't be seeing you," Twin One said. (Fred. Twin One was Fred.)

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," George said, mounting his broom.

Fred looked around at the assembled students and grinned. "If any one fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three Diagon Alley—Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes! Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," George added, jerking a thumb at Umbrdige.

"STOP THEM!" Umrbidge roared.

It was too late. Fred and George kicked off before the IS was able to get close. The group had to duck as to not get an iron peg to the head. Peeves, who had been bobbing above all this time, was eye level with Fred as he hovered above the floor. Fred smiled and said, "Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And just like last time, Peeve swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George flew out of the school to tumultuous applause from the students (and a few teachers) below.

It was a glorious exit, and ultimately perfect for the Weasley twins.

"I'm so glad I got to see that," Draco said. "Thanks for getting me."

"And me," Tom said from Harry's pocket where he'd had his head poked out. Tom vanished back into the pocket at Harry's panic look.

"You should see the swamp," Harry said, finally able to speak again as Umbridge ranted below for someone to go get the twins.

Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulder and the pair fought their way to get back to the tower.

"I'll be seeing it often. It's in a main hallway," Draco pointed out.

Harry shook his head. "I thought maybe it was something new. Since you weren't anywhere. Or had a clue what I wanted to tell you."

"I was down there in the thick of it almost getting an iron peg to the head," Draco reminded him.

"This is totally going down in history, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, it is. And, besides Peeves, we're all going to give her hell," Draco grinned.

"You could speak to the twins on spell creation," Tom said from Harry's pocket.

"Tom!" Harry hissed.

Draco thought about it for a moment, then nodded his head. "I should. It didn't even occur to me they were creating their own spells."

"Yes."

"Tom!"

"It makes sense," Draco mused. "Maybe this summer I'll see if I can work with them? See if I like spell creation?"

"You could work with me," Tom snapped.

"TOM RIDDLE SHUT UP!" Harry shouted.

"Harry, we are alone. Also, you shouted rather randomly at someone who's not me and someone might have heard that," Draco teased.

Harry huffed and stomped off.

Inspired by the Twin's example, in the following days, the number of pranks in creased two fold. Like last time, Umbridge and Filch had no clue how to rid the fifth floor corridor in the East wing of the swap, so they roped it off and Filch had to punt students across it all day long. Dung bombs and Stinkpellets were a daily occurrence. Draco was never so pleased he'd mastered the Bubble Head Charm.

Filch prowled with a horsewhip ready to beat students into submission, but there were so many deviants now he had no idea where to start. The IS was trying to help, but they were also victims of various pranks. Draco was so gratified not to be the victim of any of the pranks this time around, though, he did get vomited on at least once a day by someone using one of the Twin's Skiving Snackboxes. Draco knew the twins had sold quite a few, but he hadn't known that his not being on the IS squad meant someone would vomit on him daily in an attempt to get out of class.

And while the students were having a good go at causing mayhem, the person who was the master of chaos who would make Loki proud was in fact Peeves. He'd taken Fred's parting words to heart and soared through the school upending tables, bursting out of blackboards in the middle of class, and toppled anything that could be toppled. He locked Mrs Norris up inside suits of armor twice, smashed lanterns and snuffled out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, and caused neatly piles of parchment to burst into flames or fly out windows at random intervals. Peeves flooded the second floor by pulling all the taps in every single bathroom, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall at breakfast, and whenever he fancied a break from all of this, he spent hours floating after Umbridge, blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

And there was nothing Umbridge could do about Peeves. That was the brilliant part. The only person who had the power to really control him was the Bloody Baron, who had oddly gone deaf to Umbridge's requests. (If they could be called requests.)

Other than Filch, none of the staff (or the other ghosts) were inclined to aid Umbridge. Harry told Draco that after the Twins had been gone a week, he'd witnessed McGonagall walking past Peeves and telling him the crystal chandelier he was trying to loosen unscrewed the other way.

The final Quidditch match of the season was Gryffindor verse Ravenclaw and was Draco's first game as a Gryffidnor and a Beater.

"You'll be fine," Angelina assured him, slapping him on the back. "You're a natural."

"I'm glad you believe that," Draco drawled.

The team all slapped him on the back before they made their way out to the pitch. Draco mounted his broom and quickly got to work. Being a Beater didn't leave much time to pay attention to what was actually going on in the game, Draco discovered. Trying to keep track of eight people was time consuming and Ravenclaw had a very good team. A fine sweat broke out along Draco's back as he pelted Bludgers left and right at the various Ravenclaw Chasers and a few times at Cho Chang when she looked as if she might have seen the Snitch. He blocked Bludgers as well from hitting his own Chasers and Ginny.

Draco had no clue how Fred and George were able to carry on conversations with anyone or even really pay attention to anything outside of what they were doing.

However, while Draco knew the game lasted a long while the first time, he was sure it didn't last as long the second time before Ginny caught the Snitch, ending the game in Gryffindor's favor.

The team cheered, all falling to the ground in one of those team hugs Draco had witnessed but had never been a part of.

It was strange, especially since the majority of the team was female.

"WE WON! WE DID IT!" Angelina shouted, hoisting the Quidditch Cup over her head and beaming around at the team, all in a heap on the pitch grass.

Draco was shocked.

He was on a winning Quidditch team. Well, he'd been on one his first year playing Quidditch, but he didn't feel any sense of accomplishment. Slytherin had cheated.

Gryffindors didn't cheat.

Draco had finally won something without cheating.

It felt completely different and he like it. Quite a bit.

After a long time till the crowd of students made their way off the pitch and headed for the school. Draco went with the crowds, on the lookout for Harry and Hermione, neither which he was able to find. He grabbed Atlanta and asked her where they were.

"I don't know," Atlanta admitted, her hair super straight again today and in a high ponytail. "They left with Hagrid shortly after the game started and never returned."

Draco felt slightly crushed neither had seen his victory.

Draco didn't find Harry or Hermione till later on that evening in the mists of the celebration. Both were at the Brooding Table and both were brooding.

"Hello," Draco said, trying not to sound bitter.

"We're so sorry we missed it," Hermione said, honestly looking apologetic. "But, Hagrid…well, he finally told us what's in the Forest."

"Oh?" Draco asked, perking up a bit.

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was busy glowering out the window. She sighed, turning back to Draco.

"He brought his brother home with him from France," Hermione said softly.

Draco blinked a few times. "He brought a giant home? As in it's here?"

"Yes. He seems to think…"

"He wants us to teach him English," Harry said and let out a barking laugh.

Draco let out a shaky laugh.

"His name is Grawp," Hermione went on. "He's sixteen feet tall, enjoys ripping up twenty-foot pines trees, and knows me."

Harry snorted.

"He called me Hermy," Hermione stated.

"Hermy?"

She nodded. "He can learn."

"Hagrid's lost his mind," Harry said, turning to face them. "He's bleeding bonkers, Hermione. We both know it. Grawp is not a child. He is a giant."

"We promised," Hermione reminded Harry.

"Only so we could leave!"

"It's his brother!"

"He's a full blooded giant! He's not anything like Hagrid!"

"Oh, so they are all monsters?"

"No, but they shouldn't be living in the Forest nor being taught English by two teenagers!"

"Why'd he ask you two anyhow?" Draco asked, silently forgiving the pair for missing the game.

"He seems to think he's going to be sacked any day now and cannot take his little brother with him," Hermione said as Harry snorted. "He hasn't been sacked yet. All he must do is hang on a few more weeks. Honestly, it'd make no sense to sack him this close to exams anyhow."

"He gets sacked during an OWL exam," Draco reminded Hermione.

"Oh, hush."

"She won't do it as she did it before. She'll want to do it quietly and, well, violently as Hagrid is a half-breed and she hates them all equally and doesn't believe they are civilized. It's honestly amazing he has lasted this long."

"He's only lasted because Umbridge hasn't got the time to deal with it," Harry said. "Once we start exams, I bet the pranks and stuff will die down."

"They better," Hermione grumped, folding her arms across her chest.

OWLs approached with the usual occurrences. The teachers stopped assigning homework and began to revise every lesson. The students all constantly studied and some even began to act strange. Ernie Macmillian developed an annoying habit of interrogating people on their study habits. If Draco hadn't known better, he would have thought Macmillian was in competition to figure out who was studying the most. Draco waited for Nott to brag about knowing the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years, but Nott had ceased speaking and had grown pale and anxious— just as he had the first time around. He was clearly still terrified of his father's reaction to his less than stellar academic performance on something as major as the OWLs as he was the first time around. Draco wondered if he ought to tell him it wouldn't matter due to the fact his father would be happily locked away in Azkban when the results were issued.

"Do you think the fact Gran knows Griselda Marchbanks would help me?" Neville asked one evening. "I mean, Gran's always telling Professor Marchbanks I'm not as good as my dad…"

"Neville," Draco snapped, "who cares if you're as good as your father? You are not your father. Just as I am not mine."

Neville stared at Draco with big, round eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. You're right. You think I'll scrap a few OWLs?"

"Yes," Draco said, making a face as if he couldn't believe Neville would even worry. "Granted, I doubt you'll do well enough to continue on in Potions, Snape only takes the best, but I have a feeling you'll welcome giving that subject up."

"Yeah. But, I'm more worried about Transfiguration. I'm rubbish at that and it's needed for…stuff," Neville muttered. "Do you think I ought to buy—"

"Neville, all that stuff on the black-market to increase concentration, mental agility, and wakefulness is rubbish. I'll help you study."

"But, don't you need to study?" Neville questioned.

"I will be as I aid you. Come, let's go," Draco said.

On their way to the library, Draco confiscated quite a few "study aids" being sold by various fifth and sixth years. Last time around, he didn't bother to use his prefect status to confiscate so much as steal the study aids for his own use. (None of them worked.)

"It's going to be a long two weeks," Neville commented as they reached the library. "Are you sure I couldn't try out—"

"Yes," Draco said, giving Neville the stink eye. He opened the door, holding it open for the smaller, rounder boy. Neville scurried past and Draco swept into the library, where he'd be living for the next few weeks before and during exams.