AN: Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

gossip (with tea)

AlwaysPadfoot

Minerva McGonagall very rarely spent any time in the staff room anymore. Gone were her days of sitting alongside her colleagues drinking tea and gossiping — she was too old for that now.

That being said, this was an eventful year. The Triwizard Tournament had already brought its highs and lows, and problems in Minerva's opinion. Therefore, she wanted to know what exactly was on the mind of the other staff. She wanted to know how exactly her peers were feeling in the wake of the third task. Already they had seen injuries; they had seen dropouts, burns, and broken bones. They'd all heard rumours of Barty Crouch Snr appearing in the forest, deluded and sickly, and then disappearing again without a trace. Things were growing stranger by the day.

Minerva walked fast in the direction of the staff room after the final class of the day, abandoning a stack of papers to mark in her office before she did. She weaved through the crowds of students, all seemingly in good spirits. The sound around her was near rhythmic to her now, hundreds of students moving around her. Naturally, she kept her eyes peeled for trouble, barking commands at unruly students as she passed them.

As she reached the corridor on which the staff room was situated, Minerva quickened her pace.

The door was slightly ajar. She pushed it wide and the room opened up in front of her. Despite the fact that Minerva spent very little time here, it was still as inviting as she remembered. Warm and decorated in soft colours, the room was equipped with everything they needed. The staff noticeboard to her left was full of notifications for varying things. It displayed their class schedules and shifts for late night patrols alongside the prefect teams ones. Staff events and training leaflets had taken over the right-hand side of the board and included an ever-growing collection of rude hand-drawn pictures by Professor Sinistra. Cuthbert insisted that they were unacceptable and should be treated as an act of vandalism. Albus had disagreed and had taken a rather unflattering portrait of himself from the board to frame in his office

Minerva smiled softly and then turned to where some of her colleagues were sat, cupping mugs of tea in their hands.

"Evening all," she called, raising a hand in greeting. "Eventful day?"

There was a collective agreement that it had indeed not been eventful in any way as Minerva helped herself to a cup of tea.

" — the Weasley twins got up to their usual mischief, but nothing out of the ordinary." It was Professor Flitwick who was speaking when Minerva turned with a frown at the mention of two of her more infamous Gryffindor students. "Don't worry, Minerva. They didn't blow anything up today and I consider that a success."

"Those boys will be the death of me," Minerva responded, sitting on a velvet-covered seat amongst the small group.

"Funny you should say that Min," Professor Sinistra interjected. "I've heard you say that before."

Aurora Sinistra and Rolanda Hooch exchanged a knowing look and Minerva pursed her lips at the two witches. She knew, of course, who the two were referring too — a certain quartet of marauding Gryffindors from the seventies.

"Okay then," Minerva said. "An unspecified group of mischievous students will, one day, be the death of me."

The two hid their smiles and Minerva rolled her eyes as shifted to obtain a more comfortable position before sipping her tea. She would have to prompt the conversation.

"So, what are we all thinking in the wake of the final task?"

Rolanda swallowed some of what was definitely not just tea and put her mug down on the circular table between the four members of staff.

"Funny you should ask, we were just placing bets on who might get horrifically injured." The flying teacher was nothing if not brutally honest. "These tasks are savage. I personally think that Delacour girl isn't going to make it, the others are made of tougher stuff. Shame really, I would have loved to see her step it up and represent our gender by trouncing those lads."

An ardent feminist, Rolanda had proclaimed since the beginning of the year that she would have unwaveringly signed up had the tournament been offered when she was a student. Claiming that she would have 'kicked ass' had she gotten the chance.

"She could still," Fillius piped up.

Rolanda scoffed. "No, not a chance. The underdog is quite clearly Krum."

Aurora frowned and only Minerva noticed her shake her head slightly with a roll of her eyes. The astronomy teacher cleared her throat. "Don't be ridiculous. Have you all forgotten that Potter is in this tournament? The boy always has to be the centre of attention whether he likes it or not. He will probably accidentally fall over the cup and win. Probably with the same look of disorientated surprise on his face as he had when his name got drawn back in October."

Minerva had to admit that Aurora was right. Harry Potter always seemed to find himself garnering the attention of the whole school somehow. The boy had a knack for it, ever since he sat under the sorting hat on his very first day here at Hogwarts. Harry was like his father in that way.

"That's because he obviously didn't put his name in the goblet of fire," Minerva stated.

"Bullshit," Rolanda said. "Students his age have been performing difficult magic for glory since I was a twinkle in my father's eye."

A suggestive smile spread across Rolanda's face at her own joke. Aurora punched her arm lightly and the two started bickering causing Minerva to exchange an eye-roll with the charms professor to her right. The two witches were prone to petty arguments; this was nothing new.

She sipped her tea, taking in the staff room and it's few occupants. From the people she'd spoken to, no one seemed particularly worried about the third task, or the tournament in general. That made Minerva wonder whether she was being overdramatic; she could already think of a handful people that would tell her that.

Elphinstone, her late husband, would have been one of them.

Minerva shook her head slightly, casting the thoughts of Elphy away. It was too painful and she was ridden with guilt every time he invaded her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Minerva finished her tea just as Sybill entered the staff room. This week the Divination professor was sporting a green floral scarf to secure her bushy grey hair. Wanting to avoid Sybill, Minerva attempted to slip past unnoticed but the eccentric woman reached out and caught her sleeve.

"Minerva, you seem troubled today." Sybill had always been oddly fearless in her approach to others; it was as though she didn't care about what others thought. "Are you quite well?"

"I am fine, Sybill," Minerva said, gently pulling her sleeve away from the bug-eyed Professor. "I just have a stack of second-year essays to mark this evening."

"Perhaps you should see the nurse," Sybill said. "You look...pale."

Minerva tried not to scoff, insisted that she was fine, and walked fast away from Sybill and the staff room. The thing was, Minerva felt pale — her anxiety spiking. She was worried about her students, her colleagues. She had an uncomfortable feeling about the tournament — not even condoning it's revival when it had first been suggested.

Perhaps she would go and see Poppy. She always knew how best to make Minerva feel better.

Comp/Challenge & Prompts:

Insane House Challenge: 952. Style - Third Person

365 House Challenge: 305. Style - Third Person

72hr: Emotion - Anxious

Word Count: 1263 — not inc. notes, titles, or ANs.