Notes:
To my giftee, the author of this clever prompt, I tried to incorporate a number of your requests. I hope you enjoy my offering!
Prompt 2 from accioslash: New professor Harry Potter attends an educational conference with his former professors/now colleagues and makes some surprising discoveries.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Our story takes place in a bucolic meadow in the Forbidden Forest, during the annual Hogwarts Summer faculty retreat. A pleasantly rustic cabin situated smack dab in the middle of the heart of the forest, which is inexplicably surrounded by Muggle flora and fauna, plays host to this gathering of professors and their headmistress. It is a clear, crisp, moonless night, and the majority of the Hogwarts staff are seated around a merrily roaring campfire, situated a safe distance from the cabin.
"Here we are, once again gathered around the mesmerizing flames of another enchanted Sharing Circle," murmured Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Our first night, we shared our hopes for the upcoming academic year. Tonight, we will share parts of ourselves that are unknown. I trust we will learn much about each other. In the interest of mutual camaraderie, I'll start.
"I volunteer at a Muggle Veterans center, providing a sympathetic ear to veterans struggling to adjust to civilian life. I began when I heard from Muggleborn Hogwarts graduates who had served in Muggle military, during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, who were shell-shocked after serving. I was compelled to continue when I saw the continuing need for sympathetic helping hands for the battle-weary soldiers, regardless of their magical status. I volunteer once weekly during term, and three times a week during summer. I slip out from Hogwarts every major holiday, and visit the holiday celebrations at the Veterans center."
McGonagall's revelation was met with heartfelt applause. "We could learn a thing or two from our Muggle counterparts," Harry Potter, the new DADA professor, proclaimed. "St. Mungo's should reach out to the Squibs in the psychiatric specialties, and to those in social work, to get our Wizarding war veterans the compassionate care they need."
"I will do what I can to facilitate that, Professor Potter," Minerva replied. "Now, who will be next to expose their hidden depths?"
Pomona Sprout was almost visibly vibrating, excited to share her hidden passion. "My fellow witches and wizards, I am a medicinal and recreational marijuana advocate and grower. I don't mean to brag here, but I have a huge following in the States. I will neither confirm nor deny that cannabis-laced tea is the only thing that keeps me from the ritualistic slaughter of the yearly crop of whiny, petulant, hormonal adolescent mandrakes. Those little bastards make the whiny, petulant, hormonal adolescent Hogwarts students seem tame, and yes, I am aware our students are packing wands!"
"Language, Pomona," Flitwick chortled. Pomona was well aware that Flitwick had recently consumed a cup of her 'herbal tea,' and found his interruption amusing. "So, Filius, what is your hidden talent? I am sure we are all dying to know!"
"Well, since you practically begged, I'll give you a little demonstration." With a flick of his wand, his robes transfigured into a white sequined jumpsuit and an Elvis wig with attached muttonchops materialized upon his head. Blue suede shoes completed his ensemble. With his transformation complete, he sauntered over to Sprout, crooning "You ain't nothin' but a mandrake, screeching all the time," in a voice reminiscent of fingernails scraping across a blackboard, accompanied by a choir of banshees.
"Cease your caterwauling immediately, Filius, before I Incarcerous your wildly clashing arse," Severus Snape drawled, as he returned Flitwick to his previous persona. "And perhaps you shouldn't be drinking Pomona's questionably legal herbal brews before reporting to the Sharing Circle," he stated, before aiming his patented death glare at Pomona.
"Does anyone have a more sedate talent, activity, or hobby they wish to share?" Minerva asked, trying valiantly to keep from chuckling, the sequin-bedazzled image of Filius 'I am the true Elvis' Flitwick still fresh in her mind.
Horace Slughorn, who had recently returned to teach Potions to the lower forms, was next. "I am an enthusiastic collector of action figures, both never removed from box, and unboxed, in pristine condition, of course!"
"Why does this not surprise me?" Severus and Harry exclaimed simultaneously. "Do you play with them, or do you just stare at them while they gather dust?" Snape heckled.
Horace was positively irate. "These are rare collectibles, I certainly do not play with them, and they are displayed in climate controlled curio cabinets that repel dust, pests, and sun induced fading. I'll have you know, Severus, that I possess two very rare action figures from the Nagini series. The first is you, Severus Snape, vs Nagini, NRFB, with Nagini's hovering charm still intact. The second is Neville Longbottom and the Sword of Gryffindor, with genuine snake-slaying action."
"Okay, that is just plain morbid, Professor Slughorn," Harry commented, making a mental note to ask Minerva to have a Psychiatric Healer from St. Mungo's evaluate the aging Potions professor. He feared that sometime soon, Horace would no longer be satisfied with action figures, and they'd be looking for bodies in the dungeons.
"Okay, who's next?" Minerva stuttered, hoping for a less creepy confession.
"I happen to know that our new Arithmancy professor collects a popular Muggle doll known as 'Barbie'," Draco Malfoy, the new Ancient Runes professor, proclaimed. He snapped his fingers. The lyrics "I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Life is plastic, it's so fantastic," blared into the evening, as Hermione blushed pinker than the Barbie dream car. "You are dead to me, Draco! Do you hear me, wonder ferret? Dead. To. Me!" she screamed, before picking up her hoodie and storming back to the cabin.
"Wonder ferret. Draco, I think tonight you're gonna be the sexless wonder ferret!" snickered Harry.
"Don't be foolish, Scarhead, the makeup sex will be amazing," Draco chortled, before getting up and chasing after Granger.
"Okay, everyone, can we try to maintain decorum here? Argus, do you have something you wish to share?" McGonagall asked the caretaker, hoping to regain control before pandemonium set in.
"Headmistress, I am a mime. Perhaps I can demonstrate, and you all can guess what I am miming." After miming several easily guessed custodial tasks to absolutely no applause, Filch mimed "Everyone's a critic." The assembled faculty was stumped. Argus stormed off in frustration.
"Okay, there's time for one more reveal. Severus, surprise us. What hidden talent do you possess?"
Severus Snape, who now was responsible for the lower level DADA classes and NEWT level potions, stood up from the circle, pausing for dramatic effect. "I, dear Minerva, am a Legilimental ventriloquist. Rather than bore you with an explanation, perhaps it would be better if I demonstrate using our own Professor Potter."
Demonstrating that he could make anyone say anything using only his steely gaze, he set his gaze on Potter. Harry, the poor, innocent lamb, looked directly into the smouldering eyes of the resident Potions Master and was compelled to say, "Severus Snape, you sexily sizzling specimen of Wizarding virility, I long to ride your enormous cock until I am screaming your name to the heavens!" which, coincidentally, is exactly what Severus Snape overheard Harry whisper to Hermione Granger the previous evening, as the two sat around the dying embers of the fire that was used for the first Sharing Circle. Snape used Weasley Wheezes extendible ears to hear the confirmation of his own heart's desire. "Sharing Circle, indeed," he snickered, as he hoisted the very embarrassed DADA professor, bridal style, and Apparated them to a luxurious hotel, to start their lives together as the soulmates they are.
McGonagall decided, after Snape ran off with Harry to parts unknown, to explore each other's parts in a more private setting, to cancel the Faculty/house-elf three-legged races scheduled for the following day. Upon reflection, she realized that Snape had probably suggested it as a lark. "Perhaps I should retire - I am getting too old for this," she thought, before realizing that would leave the rogueish Severus Snape in charge. "Perhaps not yet," she chuckled, before following the rest of the faculty, who were trudging back to the cabin.