A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 628 Jobs after graduation
The cold, dark underground classroom was filled with the pungent smell of potions. The fifth-year students of Gryffindor spent their first Potions class of the school year in fear.

Professor Snape glided silently between the control panels like a circling bat. His cold, scrutinizing gaze, the occasional sharp sarcasm, and the possibility of repeating a year brought unspeakable pressure to the students.

This led them to learn how to make tranquilizers that were supposed to calm and soothe anxiety and irritability, but just looking at them was enough to make people tense up and their blood pressure soar, offering no sense of relief whatsoever.

The students lined up to hand their medicines to Snape for scoring.

In his haste, Harry overlooked a crucial step: he completely forgot to add the styrax, which Snape had already cleaned up. Zero points.

Something must have happened in Ron's cauldron, because it emitted a strong smell like rotten eggs, which almost suffocated the students around him. Even Voldemort would have to find a plug to cover his nostrils.

Nave's potion can be measured in "lumps," which for some reason has strangely solidified into a hard, grayish-brown solid. When tapped with a spoon, it can even produce a dull "thump-thump" sound, like a hardened piece of high-grade cement. Judging from the appearance, it would take some effort for Simo to break it open.

Seamus looked at Neville's pot of potion, which was as solid as a rock and could be considered building material, and couldn't help but tease him in a low voice: "Hey, Neville, I think this pot of yours is sturdy enough. Maybe it can be used to rebuild Professor Snape's house, so he won't have to worry about it being blown up again."

Though spoken in a low voice, his words were like a pebble thrown into calm water, causing the Slytherin students to stifle their laughter, their faces turning bright red and their shoulders trembling suspiciously.

Snape's icy gaze, like a tangible icicle, immediately and precisely swept over Seamus, as he plotted how to deal with him.

Then he heard Lavender Brown and Hermione talking in the group.

“Hermione,” Lavender asked curiously in a low voice, “I remember Charles said last year that if you get all ‘excellent’ grades in the OWLs exams, he would build you a very big castle, is that true?”

Her tone was full of disbelief; it was a castle, not some small house.

Hermione nodded, a hint of nervousness and pride flashing across her face, and said, "He did make that promise."

She recalled Charles's seemingly joking yet incredibly serious promise, and her heart was filled not only with a pure thirst for knowledge, but also with an additional, powerful motivation to achieve her goal.

Then she looked at Harry, who was also in a position, though it seemed a bit uncertain now.

Snape, who happened to be nearby, overheard the conversation, and every word pierced his ears clearly.

Suddenly, he felt as if a strange potion made by Na'vi had been stuffed into his chest, making him feel suffocated and almost unable to breathe.

A castle?
Just because you got straight A's on the exam?

He gritted his teeth, and the low pressure emanating from him almost froze the surrounding air.

It's infuriating to compare yourself to others. Why is Charles treated so well, while the Dark Lord didn't offer any help beyond words when he heard his house had exploded?

He's thinking about changing jobs.

At lunchtime, the ceiling of the cafeteria was gloomy, and if you looked up carefully, you could see fine raindrops.

The air was filled with the aroma of food, and the atmosphere was finally more relaxed than in the cold, damp underground classroom.

Harry and the others sat around the long table, wolfing down their sumptuous meal while chattering and discussing with lingering fear what Snape had said in Potions class that morning about someone being unable to take the exam.

Just then, Fred and George came over with smiles and sat down opposite Charles.

“Hey Charles,” Fred winked slyly, his voice low but loud enough for Charles to hear, “Are you free tonight? We have some new leads, and we need to discuss this big deal in detail. It’s definitely worth your investment.”

His expression was mysterious.

Charles was cutting a piece of grilled steak when he heard this. He looked up, a knowing smile on his face, and nodded readily: "No problem, I'll contact you."

They are clearly used to these secret meetings.

Then, as if they had completed their mission, the twins immediately and seamlessly switched targets, turning to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The two instantly put on exaggerated expressions, as if an old man was lecturing a group of naive youngsters.

"I heard you all experienced Professor Snape's special care today—the OWLs pre-exam pep rally?" George said, picking up a sandwich and eating it, shaking his head in a deliberately profound manner, his tone full of sympathy. "Relax, kids, that was just an appetizer, not even a proper starter!" "The real important thing," Fred immediately chimed in, even grabbing a glistening chicken leg from the table and waving it in the air like a conductor's baton, "have you decided what you want to do from now on?"

"OWL course selection is directly related to future career planning!"

"If we make a mistake on this step, it could cause serious trouble later!"

His question was like a stone thrown into a calm pond.

This topic immediately aroused strong interest and a slight sense of bewilderment among all the fifth-grade students present.

Ron, his mouth full of beef patties and cheeks bulging, mumbled, "I...I haven't really thought about it...maybe an Auror, maybe like Charlie?"

But his tone sounded uncertain, and even he himself wasn't quite sure about this vague idea.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed even more confused.

Becoming an Auror and fighting against dark wizards seems like a logical choice.

Becoming a professional Quidditch player, joining a club, and participating in the Quidditch World Cup with the national team sounds pretty good, and you can even compete against Krum.

Hermione ate her lunch calmly. The matter of the magic research institute seemed to be a done deal, and she found it quite interesting. She might as well go and take a look when the time came.

If it's a good place, then stay.

If you're unhappy at work, then naturally you should switch jobs.

At this moment, many people looked at a big boss sitting at the dining table.

Lavender turned to him curiously, a hint of ingratiation and expectation in her voice, and asked, "Charles, your company is so big, so large, what kind of qualifications are needed to get a job? For example, academic performance? Or special abilities?"

She secretly thought that working at Falbaddon Castle wouldn't be bad, and hoped to get some valuable inside information or a recommendation opportunity.

Charles was slowly eating a piece of pudding when he heard this. He thought about it carefully, then shook his head and said, "Well... I really don't know the specific requirements for each position."

A clear look of disappointment and displeasure flashed across Lavender's face, and her carefully maintained smile became somewhat stiff.

She thought this was Charles subtly rejecting her and not wanting to help.

"Oh, I see." Her voice lowered, her tone tinged with disappointment, clearly unhappy, and even feeling somewhat brushed off.

Charles seemed oblivious to her subtle emotional shift, picking up his fork again and reaching for a tempting plate of fried eggs and roasted tomatoes. He calmly and methodically explained, "In the company, each department typically reports the specific responsibilities, skill requirements, and number of openings for each position to the administration department based on their own business needs and budget."

"Then, the Human Resources Office of the Administration Department will compile and analyze the data to formulate a specific recruitment plan."

"This plan needs to be approved and signed by the relevant person in charge before it can be officially launched to recruit publicly through different channels—such as the recruitment column of the Daily Prophet, professional magic academic journals, or recommendations from partner universities."

He took a sip of pumpkin juice, picked up a piece of tomato with his fork, and said while eating, "So, it's not that I know the specific standards but am unwilling to tell you, but rather that there is currently no fixed and unchanging unified standard that applies to all positions. Everything depends on the job openings and the actual needs of the department at the time, and that's how the process goes."

After listening to this methodical, logical, and calm explanation full of business operating rules, Lavender's displeasure gradually dissipated, and his expression softened slightly.

Lunch continued amidst discussions about various hopes, anxieties, and realities regarding the future.

Each person chewed their food, and also chewed on their own thoughts.

For many, this is the first time they have truly considered what path they want to take in the future.

(End of this chapter)