Cameron flashed her one of those "yeah, whatever you say" sort of looks and continued scanning the page in the Potions textbook with his finger despite his mind being a mile away. It wasn't really a question of if he wanted to be a healer; it was more a question of whether he could be. Naturally stupid or not, he had no natural talent in at least two of the five classes that was generally accepted as the bare minimum for healers. He knew. He'd already asked Alice before under the guise of wanting to know what NEWT classes she needed. He would pass DADA, Transfiguration, and Charms with a bit of effort, probably—or at least do well enough to take them at a NEWT level—but Potions and Herbology? He scoffed to himself.
"I can't play quidditch as a healer," he mumbled. There was still that problem. Quidditch was his thing. It was their thing. It was the thing that binded his household together, even. He and Maddy wanted to play professionally, and Sloane, too. Would he still have those bonds if he bowed out? Did he even want to? He reminded himself that healers made more money. Way more money. Enough to rent a decent-sized house after seven or eight years on the job. He would have to work long, hard hours, but probably would just as in-shape given how healers moved around all day.
The truth was, Cameron didn't know what he wanted. Luckily enough, he didn't have to decide now. He would study harder so he had the chance; the worst he could do is be an overeducated quidditch player. He smiled at the little jab and gently swatted her arm.
"Do I strike you as the self-sabotaging sort?" he teased, knowing full well he'd opt for something like Spell Damage or Artifact Incidents. Maybe Creature-Induced Injuries, but that was a bit gruesome. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of gaping holes in people's faces, or whatever injuries people came in with. "If you do magizoology and I do the creatures ward, I could be there to patch you up for once." He liked the thought of being able to care for her, but even more than that he liked the thought of her still being there. With him.
"I can't play quidditch as a healer," he mumbled. There was still that problem. Quidditch was his thing. It was their thing. It was the thing that binded his household together, even. He and Maddy wanted to play professionally, and Sloane, too. Would he still have those bonds if he bowed out? Did he even want to? He reminded himself that healers made more money. Way more money. Enough to rent a decent-sized house after seven or eight years on the job. He would have to work long, hard hours, but probably would just as in-shape given how healers moved around all day.
The truth was, Cameron didn't know what he wanted. Luckily enough, he didn't have to decide now. He would study harder so he had the chance; the worst he could do is be an overeducated quidditch player. He smiled at the little jab and gently swatted her arm.
"Do I strike you as the self-sabotaging sort?" he teased, knowing full well he'd opt for something like Spell Damage or Artifact Incidents. Maybe Creature-Induced Injuries, but that was a bit gruesome. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of gaping holes in people's faces, or whatever injuries people came in with. "If you do magizoology and I do the creatures ward, I could be there to patch you up for once." He liked the thought of being able to care for her, but even more than that he liked the thought of her still being there. With him.
