Normally, that thought was enough to make Marissa do whatever it was she had to do without further hesitation. And it always came to her, sooner or later, and she knew it was going to come to her, so she often did things before it could. There wasn’t much point in putting off the inevitable when she knew it was inevitable.
For some reason, though, she had been stuck about this for over a year, knowing she would have to do it sooner or later but unwilling to just do it. She’d kept telling herself that she’d find a way to work it out, that she could figure out what she needed to know on her own, that everything would be all right. The same cheerful litany she’d been taught to recite since she was old enough to play with glitter glue in the living room. But now they’d given her two badges, with all the duties they implied, and the time had come to admit it: she needed someone who knew how this parallel dimension she’d somehow found herself in worked to help her out.
She’d considered going to Professor Fawcett, mainly on the basis that he was the one member of the staff who’d been at Sonora all of the five years she had and often gave the impression of knowing just about everything, but had decided that wouldn't work. She was a Crotalus, a Crotalus Quidditch player, and a Crotalus prefect. That meant a lot of interacting with the Crotalus Head of House, which meant looking like she didn’t trust the Crotalus Head of House could be kind of…bad. Plus, as bad as she felt for thinking it, because it fringed on the kind of political commentary no one she knew, including her, would approve of…it seemed a little easier, somehow, to think of talking to a woman.
So, after classes ended one day, Marissa went to her room and reapplied her make-up. Then she changed out of her day shoes and into high heels. Then she re-did her hair. All to put herself in the right frame of mind for interacting with an adult in a businesslike manner. Then, the make-up itching slightly because she was tired and really just wanted to take a bath and go to bed, she took out parchment and a quill and composed a short letter.
Coach Pierce,
If it isn’t too much trouble for you, or too much in the way of your schedule, I was hoping I could schedule a brief meeting with you to discuss RATS course and career options sometime soon. I’m Muggleborn, and really starting to find this all a little overwhelming and I’m sure I’m getting a lot of things confused and misunderstanding them. Your help would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you for your time,
Marissa Stephenson
Then, after changing shoes because she was not crazy, she went to the owlery to mail it properly. Her parents had considered an owl, finding it funny since they lived in a town called Athens, but had ultimately decided that it might draw the wrong sort of attention. Her parents understood less than half of what went on in her life these days, but they were as aware as she was that announcing she was a witch to the community would get them all shunned, and that was if the people they knew just interpreted that as some sort of New Age religious thing. If they actually believed her, she’d end up in jail. And only the kind of Stephenson her parents didn’t usually admit they were really related to went to jail.
16Marissa StephensonOwl for Coach Pierce147Marissa Stephenson15
Owl Replies to All Fifth and Sixth Year Crotali
by Boomer
Amelia could not recognize all of the school's owls on sight. She had her own Boomer with her, so she had no cause to visit the owlery unless she had reason to believe Crotalus students were getting into trouble in there. As that was very rarely the case, she spent very little time amongst the school owls. Despite that, she'd become adept at recognizing the small identifying tag that most of the school owls wore so she would be able to prioritize anything coming to her from a student or fellow colleague.
Wondering if maybe one of the captains was requesting extra Pitch time, she took the envelope from the bird and gave it one of the treats she kept ready for such occasions as this. "No reply," she told the bird. Any response required of her would be delivered by her own owl. It seemed more official that way, she thought, despite that Boomer was, well, Boomer.
He was a large owl, not the largest she'd ever seen (that honor belonged to the owl belonging to Derry's old Head of House, Terrance Muddle; a beast of bird named Striker) but Boomer was an Eagle Owl and those were never small. She liked that he was distinctive, though. When the captains got a letter from her they knew it was from her.
She turned the letter over and did not recognized the handwriting as belonging to Charlie or Jose. She was still learning Daniel's and Tobar's, but she was pretty sure it wasn't theirs either.
She didn't often get correspondence from people who weren't captaining Quidditch teams, so her interest was piqued. She wondered if maybe this had something to do with the storm brewing in the Second Year Girls dorm, but the handwriting looked older than second year.
She opened the envelope and skipped to the end. Marissa Stephenson. Yes. Of course. She should have guessed the new prefect might have questions. As she began to read the rest of the letter, she was a little surprised to find it had very little to do with the prefect responsibilities and more to do with - well, what pretty much any older student was going though.
Maybe should should make similar appointments with Jethro and probably the sixth years as well. Sonora didn't really have anyone set up to talk about that kind of thing formally, and it was something they all should think about before graduation.
She double-checked her Quidditch schedule to see when Crotalus did not have dibs on the Pitch for their practices, then penned Marissa's reply first.
Miss Stephenson, That is an excellent idea and I am very glad you asked. As there is no Quidditch Game this weekend, I am free all day Saturday, and would be happy to make time to meet with you. Let us say, 11:00 AM? If the time does not work for you, let me know when you can make it. Sincerely, Coach Amelia Pierce, Crotalus Head of House
Once she'd put that letter into an envelope and pressed the Boston Pierce seal into the hot sealing wax, she took out several more pages and wrote letters to Jethro and the sixth years.
Mr./Miss [Student Surname], As older students of the school, some of you may be wondering what you want to do after graduating Sonora and what kinds of things you should be doing to prepare for those goals. As your Head of House, I would like to help address some of these questions with you. Though doing so is completely optional, I recommend you make an appointment with me to discuss colleges and your RATS courses. Sincerely, Coach Amelia Pierce, Crotalus Head of House
OOC: Each of you may respond to this post as though all scheduling conflicts have been resolved off screen, and just show up for your meeting at the appointed hour. If you decline, you can either send back an owl doing so, or just ignore this post.
0BoomerOwl Replies to All Fifth and Sixth Year Crotali0Boomer05
Marissa had an eye for details, which she supposed was part of why she was in Crotalus instead of Aladren or Teppenpaw, so even though the coach had never really found a reason to contact her personally before, she had recognized her Head of House’s owl from around and, when it was clear that it was approaching her, she began to feel rather ill.
In her old school, she’d always had some level of a relationship with her teachers, but not since. Sonora was either taking a very traditional approach, or was just apathetic – from what she’d picked up about the magical world over the years, both seemed equally likely – but either way, the teachers were remote. Untouchable. One did not approach them, not even the ones, like Pierce and Fawcett, who publicly stated that doing so was permissible. Marissa had always had a vague idea that it was a sign of weakness to need help – she’d heard too many stories about relatives of hers who’d been born into much worse circumstances than even her position at Sonora, but had overcome all obstacles through a combination of sheer grit and manipulating influential people into liking them, all without ever explicitly requesting assistance – and the wizarding world seemed to agree. She doubted Coach Pierce was going to shoot her down, that would be stepping out of a role, but she was expecting a grudging assent, the kind that let her know she’d committed a serious faux pas.
Luckily, however, she was in the common room when she got the owl, and was able to open it. She was not going to start hyperventilating or doing anything stupid in the Crotalus Common room no matter how upset and paranoid she felt after reading the message, which made it safe to do so. Keeping self-control wasn’t hard, once she got it in the first place. Once she opened it, all at once, to get it over with, she read it twice and blinked.
She had not been expecting to be told she’d had a good idea. It felt good, even if she never completely trusted anyone to mean it when they said they were glad something happened that required them to take up time with some kid without a clue.
Now that the appointment was made, though, it would be both counterproductive and rude not to keep it, so Marissa sent another carefully polite note back saying that 11:00 on Saturday would be fine, this time removing as much of the apologetic element as she could while still including another thank-you and immediately began getting together as much of what she’d been able to come up with on her own. She needed to make the best impression possible, and most of the morning on Saturday was going to be spent figuring out what to wear.
She decided, in the end, to pass on the high heels, updos, and anything that made her look like she was going into an actual business meeting for the sake of not being considered a crazy person, instead pulling her bangs back into a barrette while the rest of her hair was down to her shoulders, putting on the least amount of make-up she could bring herself to go outside of her bed wearing, and wearing one of the same kind of semi-nice blouses she would wear to classes with an occasion-indifferent skirt. She was too tall and bony to look really good in clothes, but she owned a lot of them and knew enough to organize them in situationally-appropriate ways when she knew what was appropriate and to guess well when she didn’t.
She also put on a smile for a few seconds before letting it drop and resume when the door opened. Maybe her family’s pop-psychology version of advice was wrong, but it couldn’t hurt anything. “Good morning,” she greeted the coach.
She sat down, trying not to look around too much because that would look nosy, and opened the plastic folder she’d brought along. “Really, thank you for doing this,” she said, though she’d heard that the option was now being offered to everyone in the upper years of the House. “I…” Had she ever said it out loud to an adult? She really didn’t think so. It sounded too much like whining. “I’m not very good at magic.” Even she wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was weight coming off her shoulders or pure terror at having just, in a way, given up on something. “I can do the academic work,” she added quickly. “But I think I’m usually at least half a year behind in actual magic, so I really have no idea what to do next year. I've read about independent studies, there's some of those that don't require a lot of wandwork, and I'll still have Potions and Divination, but it's like I said in my letter - I'm Muggleborn, so I don't know what will work best or count for anything or...” She spread her hands helplessly.
"Good morning," Amelia returned with a smile as Marissa entered her office. 'Study' was what she preferred to call it because she though 'office' sounded too . . . institutional and authoritative for her tastes, but 'office' is what it technically was regardless of whether or not she had ever adjusted to having one. Most of her work was done on the Pitch or in the sitting room of her quarters. It was rare - despite her assurances that people were welcome to talk to her - that anybody came calling on her as a Head of House.
She hoped that meant people were turning to the prefects instead of trying to go it on their own when they had problems, but she doubted Crotalus was all that much different from Aether and doing so would probably also be seen as a sign of weakness and an inability to be self-sufficient. Which made Marissa's letter all the braver.
Amelia briefly wondered if maybe it was worth risking discipline to appear a little more approachable and a little less likely to bite heads off.
Maybe after the storm in the Second Year dorm broke.
As Marissa opened her folder and explained the crux of her dilemma, Amelia wondered how she hadn't known that. She'd looked over the girl's grades (as Head of House, she had access to the records of Crotalus students) in preparation for this meeting, and she'd found that while Marissa wasn't doing brilliantly in most of her classes, she hadn't been doing especially poorly either. They weren't any worse than Derry's had been at that age.
Of course, Derry now worked in a tourist shop, so her son/cousin was maybe not the best role model in academic and career situations. And Derry, like most Pierces, had no trouble using magic. Their family was fortunate in that regard. Most were fairly strong witches and wizards.
Still, there were other options.
"There are several directions you could take. There is, as you mentioned, potions. You could also go into Astronomy or History of Magic. Theory of Magic, Arithmancy, and Runes also require less direct magic than the more traditional Charms and Transfiguration. If you want something less academic, raising magical creatures or Quidditch don't require much either. Seeker's a tough position to get into professionally - any position is tough to get into professionally," she corrected herself quickly, "but there's coaching or commentating and other related fields that center on the sport."
"Is there any particular things you're interested in, that you might want to try to pursue professionally? For example, do you enjoy . . ." she shook her head, trying to come up with an obscure hobby, "basket weaving? Writing? Photography?"
She didn’t have the best memory for things she heard if she didn’t write them down or see a written question about them, so Marissa had included notebook paper and a pen on one side of her folder, and used them to scribble down the things Coach Pierce was suggesting.
Her main problem was figuring out how to combine things in a meaningful way – from what she’d read, RATS were far more important than any equivalent in the high schools, even more important sometimes than the mere fact that core classes could be and almost always were dropped implied, and which ones were on the transcript directly translated into life options – but actually knowing what the options were was still, she very much suspected, an incomplete task. It was things like this that made her resent the lack of a wizard Internet, where she could at least quickly find an up-to-date list of programs of study the Council had approved or something.
“I’ve never tried any of those, except vacation pictures,” she said when asked about her interests, stalling a moment to think of something better than the first thing to come to mind. It didn’t work. “I like reading,” she said, tone and smile conveying that she knew this interest was not very helpful. “Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I ever decided what I wanted to do when I was still in the Muggle world.” And as much as she’d like to, she couldn’t put that all off on having been eleven or younger at the time. Her mother said she’d always known what she wanted to do, and her father said he’d always subconsciously known, even before he really knew, that he wanted to be a doctor, though he’d waited until later to pick his specialization. “I had this plan about which schools I was going to go to and get my degrees in literature, but I don’t think I ever had a clue what I was planning to do with them.”
That felt bad to say, too. Family and teachers wanted her to have good, sensible plans that were achievable and would lead to a good life and from which she didn’t stray, and other people her age would, if grudgingly, at least respect or envy her for it. Admitting she was adrift was…not good. “My sister says I should just be a political wife,” she added lightly, “but I don’t think that’s really an option.”
While Marissa talked about reading and half-baked thoughts of literature degrees from long ago, Amelia tried to rack her brain for any career options that might make use of this interest. Editting wasn't quite the same thing, but it did require reading a piece to figure out what was wrong with it, and there was of course actual magical literature, which wasn't as widespread as muggle literature but it did exist.
But her brain stopped at the words 'political wife' and Amelia sat up straight. "That," she stated firmly, "is never necessary." She was the Quidditch Coach, and there was no secret she was mixed up in DISCUSS, so few people would find it a surprise that she was against arranged and political marriages, but it went deeper than that. She'd been estranged from her parents well before the disownment became official, and that had always been over marriage and the right of a witch to seek a career. "Don't joke about it. For too many girls, that's the only option they think they have."
Marissa was muggleborn, she shouldn't have even been thinking about that. Clearly, it was established into magical culture far more deeply than Amelia had thought if even witches who weren't born to it thought marriage was a way to secure a future.
Shaking her head, she tried to return the discussion back to its original track, "There is magical literature, if you do want to follow that route. It's a small field, but some people do study it. Also, publishers will always need editors whether or not they have magic, so if your ability to spell and correct grammar is something you're proud of, you could try that. And, of course, there's teaching young children before they learn magic - witches and wizards do need to learn how to read and write somewhere since Sonora and other wizarding schools rarely cover those subjects."
"Or," she added, and put in a pause, because she was about to suggest something that most muggleborns would find odd and most purebloods would think sacrilegious, "You could go into a muggle field. I did spend most of the last twelve years working for a muggle detective agency. Just because you work a muggle job doesn't make you any less of a witch."
Having received a note from Coach Pierce identical to one Lita had received, too, Charlie put it to one side for a couple of days while she thought about whether she wanted to have this meeting to discuss life after Sonora. The thing was that Charlie hadn't actually put any thought to it yet - none at all. She didn't know if she would go to college, or get a job, or move back in with her parents, or... well anything, really. She just simply hadn't considered it. She had always been the sort of person to take each day at a time, dealing with issues as and when the arose. This planning what she would do after school idea wasn't something that she would normally contemplate until this time next year at the earliest.
However, here was a note that translated her Head of House's offer of help right here and now. Charlie thought it was a good idea to discuss her options, but if she didn't even know what those options were then it would make discussing them difficult. If this was her seventh year then sure, she'd go along and have a chat she where she stood. As it was...
Eventually Charlotte decided to go along anyway. The worst that could happen was that she would say she didn't have a clue and Coach Pierce would just tell her to come back next year, which would probably suit them both a whole lot better anyway. Besides, there was the off chance that her Head of House might give Charlie some idea of what she wanted to do anyway, and that might not hurt, either. Thinking that she'd never know what she might have missed if she didn't go, Charlie eventually made an appointment that didn't clash with classes or Quidditch or her prefect or Head duties. Her schedule was as full as ever.
Knocking on the office door one minute after her designated time, Charlie waited for a response before opening the door and entering.
0Charlotte AbbottTell me my future135Charlotte Abbott05
I think you need a California Pierce for that
by Coach Pierce
Like she had done for Marissa, once Charlotte Abbott had made an appointment for her meeting, Amelia had gone through most of the records the school kept on the girl. As a sixth year, Amelia had a little more idea of what Charlie liked and disliked as far as classes went given that she had the list of RATS classes the sixth year had chosen to continue. If a subject wasn't on the list, it was clearly not one of Charlie's favorites.
So Amelia had mostly tried to look into which careers were available that made use of those subjects Charlie had chosen to keep and discarded any careers that required subjects she had chosen to drop.
When the knock came at her door, she was expecting it. "Come in," she invited, and the sixth year Captain and Prefect did so. "Close the door and take a seat," she added, and indicated the chair across from where she was seated at her desk. Between them, on the top of the papers Amelia had collected on Charlie, were the girl's CATS scores.
"This is reasonably informal," she added, hoping to take away any anxiety the subject matter or the visible test results might arouse.
To start with, though, she was going to need to know what progress Charlie had already made toward planning her future, if any. "Do you have any specific ideas, plans, or directions you want your future to take, or are you still exploring your options?"
0Coach PierceI think you need a California Pierce for that0Coach Pierce05
It was amazing that no matter how grown up she felt from time to time, when she was wearing mature outfits or leading the Quidditch team or helping her eldest brother go over his household bills, when Charlotte sat across the desk from her Head of House she felt like a child. She still was, she supposed, and would be until she almost graduated. Then what? That's what she was here to find out.
Coach Pierce informed her that the chat was going to be informal, and Charlie was pleased to hear it - she did informal much better than she did formal, anyway. However, she also saw that her CATS scores were on the desk - she was disappointed for the first time that her Acceptable in Care of Magical Creatures ruined the otherwise perfect strings of Exceeds Expectations - and wondered what other information was concealed beneath it. So long as it wasn't that potions essay she'd really messed up and had to re-write after Fawcett gave her a talking to, or, Merlin, a written account of her dating history at Sonora (perhaps somewhat less likely) then she thought she'd be okay. She was tempted to ask what the other papers were, as it might very well be relevant, but then Coach Pierce said, "Do you have any specific ideas, plans, or directions you want your future to take, or are you still exploring your options?"
"Um, defitintely nothing specific," Charlie replied, wondering if there was any chance she would come out of here not looking like an idiot. "I'm fairly sure I don't want to run an up-market hotel in Chicago," she added, but then realized that may have sounded very strange to her Head of House if her parents' occupation was unknown. "Um, that's what my parents do," she added. "I don't want to work in a bar and live in some crummy apartment," she expanded - that was what one brother did. The other brother was living with their uncle as his potions apprentice, and that didn't sound too bad - neither did it sound particularly appealing, so Charlie neglected to mention it.
"Other than that, I literally have no idea," Charlie admitted. "I haven't given it much thought, to be honest, because... well, just because I haven't." She shrugged. There wasn't a particular reason she didn't plan ahead, it just wasn't something she tended to do. "So, I don't know if you want to throw some ideas my way, or ask me questions," she smiled sheepishly at her Head of House. "I've got nothing else to add right now."
Despite Charlie's claim to not have anything specific in mind, she did seem to be very specific in what she didn't want to do. Though Amelia hadn't already known the nature of the girl's parents' profession, she could certainly understand the desire not to do what they had done, and she nodded sympathetically once she understood the source of hotel management's tarnish. She thought there might be a specific person in mind for the other very clear 'don't want that' alternative, but it was a situation few would choose so she neither asked nor was surprised when nobody was specifically linked to that outcome.
"It's fine if you don't know," Amelia assured her. "Merlin knows I was already in college before I thought of Coaching. A lot of people go in undecided or with very different ideas than what they end up doing. You don't need to chart the whole of your life right now." She chuckled a little, "And even if you do, you'll only be disappointed because life doesn't work like that." So many things had happened since her sixth year at Salem that she never would have guessed at then.
Had anyone told her then that she'd be coaching Quidditch at a school in Arizona twenty years later, she would have thought them mad. It would have been cool but it would have been mad. That she would be the Matriarch of her own offshoot branch of the Pierces and have a grandkid on the way by her adopted son (who happened to be none other than Derwent the Third) was even more insane.
At sixteen, she'd only just begun to toy with the ideas of independence.
That anyone that age might have even the faintest glimmer of what to do with the rest of their lives was baffling to her, so it was no surprise that Charlie hadn't thought much on it yet.
"That said," she continued, because there was a very good reason she had recommended these meetings, "you will be graduating in less than two years time, and probably going to college. The programs you apply to will be somewhat limited by your RATS - both what you took, and what you got on them. So if you decide you want to be - say - a herbologist, and you dropped potions after fifth, you're going to have a hard time finding a college to accept you into that program. So I'm here to make sure you're taking everything you need to take that you might end up needing."
"Of course, the opposite also works. You might decide not to become a herbologist if you don't like potions." As Charlie had chosen to continue potions, that particular point was moot, but it served as a general example. "So, what are your favorite classes?" Charlie's CATS scores had been uniform enough that conclusions of that sort were difficult to draw. "You can often get an idea of what you do - or don't - want to do based on what you do - or don't - enjoy studying. Were there even any particular units of one of your classes that you liked more than the norm?"
Coach Pierce assured Charlie it was fine that she didn't know what she wanted to do after school, which relieved Charlie in two ways: firstly because even though she knew already that it was okay to not have made any decisions yet, it was comforting to hear a proper grown up say it, and secondly because she'd told Daniel as much and it was good to know her claim was valid.
By the time a real question was put forth, in context of favorite classes, Charlie had relaxed substantially and also added herbology into potential consideration. "I don't think I really have a favorite class," she mused out loud. "I like it when we have to write our own projects or conduct our own experiments," she said after a moment's hestitation to allow her thought processes to become coherent. "Like, I think I'm good at working out how to test a theory, or those comparison essays we have to do in charms and potions to say if a spell is better than an alternative method." She wasn't sure if that's quite what Coach Pierce had been asking. "I really like Quidditch," she thought she may as well add it in, "but I'm around ninety percent sure I don't want to try playing professionally." For a start it was hard work, secondly it was hard to get into, and thirdly if she did happen to get on a good team there would be the fame problem that Daniel was always so concerned about, and it seemed a reasonable concern to have. "Same with dancing, I mean, I'm not committed enough to be a professional."
"Oh," she said, restarting once she'd already sort of committed to stopping. Something else had occurred to her, and while it wasn't to do with classes or subjects, it was defintiely worth mentioning. "I get bored really easily," Charlotte said. "So, I guess a repetetive job wouldn't hold me except to tide me over until I found something more interesting." By interesting she meant varied, because even the most interesting book in the world would get boring pretty quickly if that was the only book you could ever read.
Amelia listened as Charlie explained what she liked and was good at in classes, and couldn't help but smile when the girl added that she really liked Quidditch. Having had similar doubts about playing professionally, she had made the same decision to not even try. It would likely only end in disappointment. If Duesius had tried for a professional Beater position, she thought he probably would have gotten it, but even he had settled into some kind home business as a temporary caretaker of magical creatures. (She thought Marcus could probably best the story McKindy was spreading about the kelpie in his bathtub.)
Though she thought that line of work would probably satisfy the Not-Boring criteria Charlie had asked for, the only grade on her CATS below an E was Care of Magical Creatures, so Amelia guessed Charlie might not be big on animals and didn't mention it. Her ex-cousin probably wouldn't appreciate the competition, anyway.
"There are, of course, other related fields that wouldn't necessarily require you to meet the stringent qualifications of Professional Quidditch Players or Dancers. There are announcers, coaches, trainers, flying and dance instructors for younger participants, team or troupe managers, choreographers, costume or uniform designers, critics and reviewers, and all sorts of other people who play key roles, but in the background."
"If you want something really exciting, there are law enforcement careers where your job is a taken on a case by case basis. If you don't want to go that dangerous, there are various forms of consultants, where you go in for one job, do the job, then get hired for a completely different job. Some of those may go back to your choreographers and costume designers, or you may set up shop as some kind of evaluator, and you get hired to determine the relative merits of two ideas a person or company might be considering, or they need to do this other thing, but don't know how, and they could hire you to figure out how to do it."
Amelia sat back in her chair, and added, "These are just ideas I'm throwing out. Something to think about. You don't need to make a decision right now. If you don't have a specific direction you want to take, just keep with the classes you like and you can figure out something from there. I'm just here to help you look at your options, maybe point out some that you wouldn't have thought of. You've still got a year or so before you need to figure out what to put in that college application blank for 'major area of study' so you can just mull over it for a while and come back if you have any questions at all."
"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss now? College application process? How to find an apprenticeship? Do you have any interest in muggle careers or education? Anything at all?"
1Coach Amelia PierceYou could also try the Pitch during Pecari practice20Coach Amelia Pierce05
I'm not sure they would appreciate my being there
by Charlie
The sixth year had to give some credit to her Head of House for the sheer number of professions she could name, apparently off the top of her head (okay she had probably done some sort of reading up on all the potential professions out there prior to organizing these career options meetings, but it was still impressive). She tried to take in all the different ideas, but then her mind focused instead on the last part of what had been said: in the background. Suddenly Charlie knew there was something else she didn't find appealing. Aparently she didn't want to be in the background. Well that was telling. She kept her mouth shut because self-identification as a Drama Queen in front of her Head of House had definitely not been on her agenda. Besides, she didn't want to jump to any conclusions, she might really like being a costume designer... possibly...
Instead, Charlie continued to listen as Coach Pierce listed law enforcement ideas, consulting, and all sorts of other things. It was difficult to assess them all individually, but Charlotte thought that yes, some did sound too danergous, but also that choreography sounded fun, and that identifying comparative merits stuff reflected what she knew she was good at in class. If nothing else she certainly had a lot of ideas to consider now that hadn't occurred to her before (though this was probably a result of not thinking about the future at all, rather than any particular oversight). She nodded along as her Head of House reiterated that a decision didn't need to be reached just yet. Charlie knew she didn't want to work with animals or divination or astronomy, so unless she took up an independent study she didn't need to change her classes.
"Um," Charlie said when asked if she had any other questions. "I don't think so. Not right now, I mean. Like I said, I haven't really thought about it." She laughed lightly, and said, "At least I've got something to think about now." The ball had started rolling, so to speak. "I guess I'm pretty much done for the time being. I can come back if I think of anything I'd like to ask, right?" She was sure the answer was yes, but giving the Coach a warning that this may very well occur seemed to be the polite thing to do.
0CharlieI'm not sure they would appreciate my being there0Charlie05
For a moment, Marissa was surprised by Coach Pierce’s vehemence on the subject, but then her brain kicked in and she wanted to literally kick herself and only didn’t because she thought it would be noticed and commented on. Self-harm wasn’t really a trait she thought they looked for when they were making the Head Girl nominations, and now that she’d come this far, she felt like she had to at least play for the prize of a nomination.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I…forget how different things are here, sometimes. Nobody at home would think it was weird if I married another doctor – “ or a lawyer, like her mother, or a soda heir like the new partner in Addie and Bella’s fathers’ practice, though those were a little rarer, usually harder to get along with, and could get a little weird about their numerals – “and stopped working, but it’s not required, at least where I’m from. My mother’s been married to a doctor for thirty years, and she still works.”
Which hadn’t been all bad. Marissa and Paige had always been looked after by friends’ mothers, which meant they were just that much more close to their friends than they would have been if their mother had stayed home like Mrs. Griffin (a former caterer, who threw the best parties in the neighborhood) and Mrs. DeAngelo (a former marine biologist, though what that had to do with how often her house was photographed by magazines and the paper, Marissa had no idea) and the rest. The upshot would have been that they would have been closer to each other, but still, Marissa didn’t feel like she and her sister really had a bad relationship, all things considered. If something were really wrong, she thought, when they were both home from their respective boarding schools, she could talk to Paige about it, and vice-versa. She’d probably talk to Addison or Briana or Aria or Bella first just out of habit, but she wouldn’t feel like she couldn’t go to Paige, or even her mother.
She nodded to the suggestion about editing – she wasn’t sure what the exact phrasing Coach Pierce used meant, but she was proud of her spelling and grammar – and scribbled down a note at the mention of, basically, elementary education. She’d had that recommended to her a few times, and while it didn’t really feel like her…well, there was no harm in keeping an open mind to the options. “There aren’t really many magic elementary schools, though, are there?” she asked to confirm the impression she’d gotten from hearing her classmates talk about tutors. “So that’s mostly private tutoring.”
Which would cut down on some of her options. She didn’t always think in terms of magical society, but she had gotten the impression that there were some magic families that wouldn’t even use a Muggleborn as a penmanship tutor. She just counted herself lucky that her year and those around it didn’t really seem to have anyone who personally felt that way in them, and that she’d somehow remained under the radar of anyone who did.
Really, they should do something. There were still issues with racism and classism in the Muggle world, and they were kind of associated with where she was from, but they didn’t, as far as she'd ever heard or seen, get to be as open about it most of the time as magic people were without being considered weird, dangerous people who were thought poorly of by the vast majority of everyone else. Not the case here. People here also threw people like her in with barely any warning, and just hoped for the best. She wondered if there was any market for activists, or if the school systems were not-broke enough to maybe support some kind of Introduction to The Magical World class for first years. Like social studies for wizards.
She put down her pen on her lap when going back to the Muggle world was suggested. “I’ve thought about that,” she admitted, “but I don’t see how that would work.” She took another sheet of paper out and put it on top of the ones facing her. “Mama’s got me taking these credit exams, hoping I can at least transfer the credits into a Muggle college and have that option, and I’m going to try the SAT this summer, but I’d still thought most of the Muggle world would want me to have…high school transcripts, class rank, a GPA – those things. How did you do it?” She realized that could seem impertinent. “If I may ask.”
Amelia could not begin to describe the amount of relief she felt when Marissa explained she hadn't actually meant an arranged or political marriage as pureblood society understood it. She still didn't think she approved of a plan that involved marrying a doctor for his money, but that was at least an informed choice and a mutually agreed upon marriage.
Actually, it wasn't really far off of what Melinda had done, though Bel's former twin had been unusually lucky by pureblood standards. Melinda and Randolf had actually loved each other before they were betrothed (as much as 13 year old children could love each other, anyway). Melinda has been as ecstatic by the arrangement as Belinda had been furiously outraged. Amelia was genuinely glad for Melinda because, unlike in many such cases, she'd actually gotten everything she wanted.
Sometimes it stunned her that Melinda and Bel shared the same compliment of genes. Marrissa didn't really seem to have Melinda's temperament either so it was unlikely she'd truly enjoy the Marry A Doctor route. Admittedly, Amelia didn't know her nearly as well, but anyone who went out of their way to approach the staff about career options clearly would prefer having, well, a career. Or at least the option of one, if she did happen to find a specific doctor she liked enough to marry.
She seemed to like the editing suggestion and the teaching thought seemed accepted enough to ask for more details, so Amelia explained how early education worked in the magic world, "There are a good number of private tutors, especially for pureblood families who live spread out on private estates. There are a handful of magical elementary schools, especially in magical towns like Barons Hollow and Aladren, and even Tumbleweed - though theirs is a little odd since the town is constantly on the move - where a lot of magical families live together without any muggles nearby. Half-bloods generally go to muggle schools just because the muggle parent can't easily live in a magical town and most muggle ones just don't have the magical population to support a school. I've even heard of more liberal purely magical families sending kids to muggle schools just because that was what was available near where they lived."
She wondered what Derry and Gabby would do with their kid when it got to school age. Barons Hollow wasn't too far from Boston. Or would they use a muggle school like Gabby had done? Or stick with the tutoring system that Derry had grown up with?
"So yes, it is mostly tutoring, if only because of how spread out every one is, but there are more formal classroom opportunities. If you avoid the truly wealthy - the Careys, the Raines, the old school conservative types - you should be fine. The Less Rich understand that the supply of purebloods willing to work as tutors is small and largely monopolized by the Very Rich." Her own tutors had rarely been of pure blood outside of dance and ettiquette, which were among the few jobs 'proper' women were allowed to have.
New Hampshire had money, but not enough to train non-heirs with the very 'best'. "At that point, your House is more important than your blood and, as a Crotalus, you may actually have an edge even over the Aladrens." Aladrens were smart but often eccentric and unpredictable. Crotali were respectable and more often willing to conform to the rules of the house, which most families would find vastly preferable. That both were better than Teppenpaws or Pecaris went without saying.
When Marissa asked about how she'd managed to cross over to muggle employment, Amelia sat back in her chair and let out a small humorless laugh. "It was a little different for me. I don't recommend that route." It had involved getting thrown out of her family, using a fake name, pulling some favors to hack into some computer databases somewhere to make Amy, Linda, and David Price exist, and then starting at a minimum wage secretarial position after a year of unemployment looking for jobs on both sides of the magical divide.
Only with time, effort, and demonstrated skill had she managed to work up from clerk to junior partner detective. And then the business went bankrupt leaving her with experience but no formal training or license. Not exactly easily employable. Which was why she was here, instead of still detecting. Well, that and Thaddeus, the brother she'd never met, was supposed to come here.
"If you actually have a muggle education, I imagine it's easier. There are resources and paperwork for crossing magical kids over into muggle colleges." One of the Sonora Alumni who had come to the career fair a couple years back had brought some information on how he'd managed to get into some muggle programs at his university. "I can even give you contact information for a Sonoran who did it relatively recently. He went into Astrophysics, which is very different than what you're looking at, but some of the college processes will be the same.
"My son Derry also told me about one of his Housemates who dropped out of Salem early to go into muggle highschool to make the transition to muggle life easier. I can maybe get his information, too." She couldn't remember the kid's name off hand, but she remembered Derry had been upset about it because it meant he was losing his Keeper again. Derry being Derry, she imagined they had kept in touch, especially since Derry had also ended up integrating himself into a muggle job, albeit not one she'd recommend to Marissa seeing as how he worked in a tourist shop.
There were, it seemed, some magical primary schools after all, but the coach’s answer boiled down to Marissa’s impression of how things worked being basically right. It was initially a surprise to hear that a Crotalus would be preferable to an Aladren for such a thing, but after a moment of thought, she supposed she could see it. Quentin and Edmond were both extremely intelligent, to the point where their brains were more intimidating to her than she imagined Edmond’s stature would have been if she hadn’t been used to his presence around school, but she had trouble imagining either of them as elementary school teachers.
Not, of course, that meetings like this were things they’d ever need to worry about. They were both rich purebloods, with large families who would make all the hard decisions in life for them if they proved incapable of it. Or possibly even if they were capable of it, which was why Marissa didn’t envy them that. While she would like to have the assurance of knowing her parents would step in if it turned out she couldn’t take care of herself and it became clear she couldn’t take care of herself, and currently knew their philosophy of life did not involve doing that, she didn’t like at all the thought of not being given any input on the matter.
She had, she supposed, something of her father’s temperament – softer than her mother’s, more tightly wired on the surface than it was underneath, interested in some things for their own sake, a little dreamy – but still felt she was somehow not much like the rest of her family. If her mother were put in charge of selecting what she did with the rest of her life, Marissa thought there was a very good chance she would end up not that well off and completely miserable. She certainly wasn’t…forceful enough, confrontational enough, to really do well and thrive in a law practice. Plus, she’d read a few of Paige’s business law assignments from high school, and some of their mother’s old books, and none of it made any sense. She might be able to get by as a nurse or something in medicine, but that would definitely involve leaving magic behind, being a Healer involved advanced Transfiguration, and she’d seen how hard it was for Daddy when patients died.
Though, there was always ophthalmology. Daddy always said he was sure he could have been happy if only he’d been an eye doctor, that he’d seen in his schooling that they were the happiest, but he’d felt some sort of youthful, idealistic sense of obligation to oncology. Sometimes ophthalmologists got very upset when they saw a retinoblastoma, but that was a drop of tap water beside the ocean compared to what he had to deal with.
“I see,” Marissa said when Coach Pierce appeared to be done with elementary education. “That’s something to think about, thank you.”
She wasn’t sure if she was more amused or intrigued by the idea that a Sonoran had become an astrophysicist, of all things, but she gripped her pen a little harder at what might or might not have been a suggestion about quitting. “I'll keep that in mind, but I don’t plan to leave without completing my RATS,” she said. Mama wouldn’t have allowed it even if she’d wanted to. Alice Stephenson didn’t believe in quitting anything one was fool enough to start. “That was really what I was wondering most about, how I should pick my classes for next year. Do I have to know what I want to do, or just take a combination of what I like and what I can do well in, or…” She let it go at that, leaving her head of House room to fill in the blank with the real answer if she hadn’t thought of it on her own yet. "In Muggle schools, at least the ones I know about, you have required classes all the way through no matter what you're interested in until you start college, so this is completely new."
Marissa accepted the information Amelia could provide, and declined asking after Derry's Keeper's information, which was just as well, really. Druscella would kill her if she was responsible for making a Crotalus leave a magical education behind in favor of a muggle one, even a Muggleborn one. Grandmother might not like that sort, but any witch choosing muggles over magic was the next nearest thing to a crime to the old woman. Merlin knew Amelia had tolerated enough lectures on the subject regarding her own life.
To the question about the RATS themselves, Amelia spread her hands, "That can go two ways. You can either pick the subjects you enjoy the most or can tolerate well enough that you don't mind a RATS level focus on them, and then figure out which careers only require those - which isn't a bad way to go because you probably don't want to work everyday with a subject you don't particularly like anyway.
"Or you could decide on your career first and take the subjects required for it, and possibly some related independent studies as well. Unless you have a very clear idea of what you want, most people generally take the first route, though the second certainly does have obvious advantages once you leave Sonora and begin to pursue your goals."
Amelia smiled and nodded as Charlie reiterated she hadn't thought much on it before but now she had a lot to mull over. "Of course," she agreed immediately, "My door is always open." Except, of course, when it wasn't, but she doubted Charlie would try to find the limits of her hospitality, and would keep her questions to reasonable hours of the day when Amelia was not otherwise engaged in reffing Quidditch games or instructing flying lessons. Those times were clearly marked as unavailable on the office door.
She took her wand out and pointed at the door to make it open again so that if anyone else had questions to ask, her door actually would be open as advertised. "Good luck with everything, Charlie," she smiled, perhaps a little conspiratorially since she wasn't technically supposed to have a bias on this, and added, "Especially the next Quidditch game."