Although it had been more then two hours since events had transpired, Minerva could happily say the potions teacher was as prompt as she could have been given the circumstance.

"We got your owl, I came as soon as I could." Hardbroom said airly in greeting as she appeared in mcgonagall's office, regardless of fact no one else could simply apperate in out or about in Hogwarts. "Where are they?"

"Good evening to you to, Constance." the headmistress tutted setting down a camomile tea. Snape, Minerva noted had ducked behind his picture and began making rude gestures at his previous rivals back."You might as well hang your cloak up. And I've not quite sure this minate in time but we'll just follow the screeching shall we?"

Hardbroom nodded, doing as she was told and, polity ignoring Severus; followed Minerva out of the room. Or so she thought but as the door closed behind them there was a muffed yelp of pain. Either at HB's fingers Snape's picture had been tampered with over again or Dumbledore had clipped him around the ear through the frame again.

"Was that really necessary?"

"I'm not sure what you mean headmistress." Mcbamf gave her a look. HB returned i, before they both shrugged it off with slight smirks.

The exchanged pleasntrises and further tales of former pupils as they scattered first years in their wake along the corridors. Minerva asked after Miss Cackle and the resident muggles while Constance enquired after the resent NEWT scores. Finally after a crossing across the castle they came to a halt at the little silver hatch in the tower ceiling. From it came a cacophony of sounds, something that was not heavenly.

"What actually happened?" Constance quired. "Your note was rather vague. I was under the impression Miss Bat was simply meeting with Professor flitwick to arrange a choir duet of some kind."

"She had indeed."

"So what sent her to hide in the staffroom cupboard?"

"His mentioned Miss Crotchets work-"

"Ah."

"Indeed. I'm sorry to say there was much wailing involved. Although thankfully not as much gyrating on the tables this time- but the noise was enough to draw Sybil down from her room. By the time I was informed- well the kitchen elves tell me there where at least eight bottles of cooking sherry gone."

There was a large clatter above their heads and after a lot of giggling, a slurred "woopsie."

"Which witch do you think that was?" Constance frowned. Minerva shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine dear." she sighed. "I find it's hard to tell the wailing apart when they've both been on the bottle."