On Wednesday afternoon, rather than sitting at a table, listening to a Transfiguration lesson I was sitting quietly in Professor Flitwick's office, staring down at my shoes on the stone floor. He had informed me that he was running a bit behind, but assured me that he would be in with me soon before he had scampered off to do whatever it was that he needed to, leaving me alone in the office. His office was decorated for the wintery season, however it had a homey clutter to it, aside from his nice and neat desk.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting!" he said entering the room, "How are you doing today, Miss Coperton?"

"I'm doing alright, I guess. What about you, Professor?"

"I'm doing fine myself, thank you for asking. Did you have a nice holiday?" he asked politely, pulling out some paperwork to either look over or to take notes on.

"The best I could have," I nodded.

"Good, very good," he nodded, "So have you thought about your career plan at all?"

"Sure," I reasoned, "I thought about how much I should have one."

He chuckled, though he felt the seriousness in my tone, "Well at least that's a start."

"I suppose."

"How have your classes been going? I heard from Professor Vector that you added on his Ancient Runes class."

"They've been going fine, and Harrison thought it'd be a good idea for me to get actual credit for helping him and Roger with Runes all of the time," I nodded, "I thought it would be too much, but right now it is just fine."

"That's excellent," he mused, "And Hadley, I think I found a solution to your lack of plan."

"Really?" I asked, excitedly, "What is it?"

"Well, I put your name into a pretest for St. Mungos," he said calmly, "It's this Saturday, and with your background and schooling you should perform quite excellently. Based on your score, and your background in schooling they will select whether or not to take you into one of their training programs, and will give you a few options to train with. Given you pass all over your classes with flying colors, which I expect you will, they will have you begin training and interning this summer sometime. Does this sound of interest to you?"

I had never really thought about becoming a Healer, and given how often I have gotten injured or ill in my life, it should have been a more obvious notion, "When would I get the results?"

"Within a week they'll send you your scores and their response," he said smoothly, "I take it that you're interested?"

"Very," I said with a small smile, "What time and where are the tests?"

"The performance hall in Hogsmeade at one o'clock this Saturday," he informed, "I'll make sure they have your name. Have a wonderful rest of the week, Hadley."

"Thanks, you too," I stated as I left, not even bothering to hide my smile as I slipped into my spot in the library across for Roger and next to Addison, as they stared at me oddly before Harrison spoke up, "What's with the grin?"

"I figured out my life plan," I sighed in relief, "Well, hopefully anyway."

"That's excellent!" Addison encouraged. Her life plan had been apparent to her for quite some time, as she was practically the next known heir to the Flourish and Botts dynasty.

"And what is it?" Harrison inquired and I shook my head.

"I'd rather keep it quiet until it is set in stone. I don't want to jinx it."

"Well, fine," Roger muttered, "Don't tell us. Want to go grab dinner?"

"I just got here," I whined, "Besides, I'm not hungry."

"Fine, if you aren't up in the tower by nine, we'll come drag you out of here by your hair," Harrison nodded as the boys stood up along with Addison, "Happy studying, loser."

I stuck out my tongue at him as I looked down at my Transfiguration paper and my list of antidotes for Snape. I pulled out my quill, dipping into an ink well before beginning my scribbling marathon on the parchment in front of me.

"Hey," Wood greeted, sitting down next to me, "How was your meeting with Flitwick?"

"Excellent," I murmured, not hesitating from my scribbling, "I have to take a test in Hogsmeade on Saturday."

"Is this you politely informing me that you can't make our date?"

"No, this is me informing you that I don't date, and that we can hang out after my exam if you would like," I muttered, "Also, a told you so on the not dating thing."

"Keep telling yourself that," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "What's the exam for?"

"St. Mungos," I answered, "Don't tell anyone I told you though. I haven't even told Roger what its for…"

"Are you finally getting tested for insanity?"

"Har har har, you're funny," I retorted sarcastically.

"It is a legitimate question!" he reasoned, before turning to me in order to ask, "What's the test for?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" I asked, "You just pondered whether or not it would be to admit me because of insanity."

"You know I didn't mean that. And we're friends."

"Oh, are we now?" I asked, "What a weird concept. In which case, I ought to tell you, as your friend, that your ego is a bit overwhelming. You should tone it down some. For the rest of us, okay?"

"You're funny," he said sarcastically, "Have you thought about going into performance as a comedian?"

"I know, I'm hysterical."

"But no, really," he paused, "What's the test for?"

"For them to accept me as a trainee given I pass all the right NEWTs," I informed with a shrug.

"You're going to be a Healer?" he asked, incredulously.

"If I pass," I grumbled.

"Oh, you'll pass," he retorted, "If you don't, I might as well stop trying to pass Charms."

I rolled my eyes, not responding as I continued scribbling on parchment. He pulled out his own work, before getting to work himself. The two of us sat in silence for a while, working on whatever it was they could pull out of their bags. It was peaceful, just the sound of scratching quills and pages turning in my ears, but naturally that all had to be disturbed.

"Well, what do we have here?"

"Shove off, Flint," Wood retorted, "What are you even doing here?"

"Studying," he spat, "Not like it is any of your business."

Without looking up, I spoke up, "Studying? I wasn't even sure you knew how to read." Which earned a laugh from Wood, and probably a solid glare from Flint.

"Was I talking to you, Coperton?"

"Well, now you are," I shrugged, "What are you trying to get at, anyway?"

"No idea you two were together."

"We aren't," Wood and I responded in unison , causing Flint to roll his eyes.

"Oh yeah? Like he would have any other reason for hanging around someone like you," he sneered.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I questioned, "It's not like he stooped so low to hang out with the likes of you."

"Not that I want to hang out with him anyway," Flint retorted, "Whereas your just pathetic."

"Maybe you're the pathetic one," I reasoned, "After all, you do have a very poor taste in company."

Flint scowled, his crooked teeth shown a bit which made me scrunch up my nose. However, before he could say anything, Wood offered, "Do you want to leave, Coperton?"

"I suppose," I sighed, not really liking the idea of leaving Flint in one of my favorite places of Hogwarts, but I suppose it was necessary. I didn't particularly favor being anywhere near Flint, and seemingly Wood didn't either. We both shoved all of our work and things into our bags, both standing and walking out as Flint called after us.

"Yes, be a good girlfriend and leave with him like that."

I rolled my eyes, but Wood shot me a look of concern, "What?" I asked.

"Is he usually that awful to you?"

I shrugged, "Well, he didn't swing at me this time, so I suppose that's an improvement," I paused, "Though I could possibly attribute that to you being there. He seems a bit intimidated by most of the people I hang out with. Doesn't even acknowledge me when I'm with Roger."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged , "Because I hang out with tall, muscle-y people?"

"You think I'm muscle-y?" he asked jokingly, "I knew you were checking me out that one time."

"Well it was hard not to—" I paused, shaking my head as he stopped to stare at me incredulously, "That came out wrong."

"Nah, I think it came out just right," he teased, his arm slowly draping around my shoulders. "It is perfectly alright, I don't have too much pride to admit that I've checked you out on numerous occasions."

"Now that, that is borderline creepy," I murmured.

"It's creepy that I think you're absolutely stunning?"

"Yes," I glowered, "You know, it's rude to lie to people like that. It's hurtful."

"Why do you think I'm lying?" he questioned.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Is it that impossible for you to wrap your mind around me thinking pleasant thoughts about you?"

"No, that thought is amusing," I sighed, "I don't know. You don't know what you're saying when you say stuff like that."

"Yes, I do."

I remained silent, my face expressionless as I stared up into his brown eyes, "Right."

"I do!" he insisted and another silence set over us, "So we're still on for Saturday—just after your test right?"

"I don't normally make plans and not keep them, so I suppose I can still hang out with you," I shrugged.

"It's still a date then," he decided and I scowled.

"Now, no talk like that or I will change my mind."

"Like you really would."

"You want to bet?"

"I do," he nodded, "I will see you on Saturday for our date."

"Not a date!" I countered, but he shook his head.

"Maybe not for you," Wood paused, "But for me? I've got a date with the prettiest girl in school. My mum would be so proud."

"Flattery will not make it a date."

"Oh, I beg to differ."