Author's Note: I've been reading the Goblet of Fire, as I currently am trying to re-read all the Harry Potter books, and it occurred to me that the Yule Ball from the teacher's perspectives would be a fun thing to write about. I'm planning to split it into a few different chapters. There are details from canon that I've tried to include (who was dancing with who etc) but there really is a lot of scope for me to delve into my own imagination. I've focused on my favourite group of teachers, Minerva, Pomona, Rolanda, Poppy, Septima and Aurora, because I like to believe that they're kind of a wee gang that hangs out together. I had a great time creating their great time; hopefully you'll have one reading about it!

Christmas Day

"If I never hang another bauble in my life, it will be too soon!"

With that declaration, Minerva McGonagall collapsed into her favourite chair, situated at the edge of the staffroom. Pomona Sprout, who had followed the other witch in, nodded her head in enthusiastic agreement and pulled up another chair, so that she might also collapse down into it. The pair had spent the majority of the after lunch period helping to decorate the Great Hall in preparation for the Yule Ball, a celebration that was to be held in the evening. A room of not unsizable proportions, the task had taken longer than anticipated and both witches were now exhausted. Joining their friends, who were already seated, was a welcome respite. Septima Vector sat on a couch, chatting to Aurora Sinistra. Rolanda Hooch was sitting on the floor by the fire, polishing her broom (Minerva suspected the mess made by the bristles would not be appreciated by the Hogwarts caretaker). Poppy Pomfrey lounged lazily in an armchair, her eyes dozily watching the fire's dancing flames.

"Whose fault was it for volunteering?" Septima said, a slight sound of smugness in her voice.

The Arthimancy professor had made doubly sure that she missed the meeting when Albus Dumbledore had been asking for recruits.

"You'd have volunteered too," Minerva mumbled, "with Albus going on about "honouring the duties and commitments of Head of House"."

Severus Snape, who was sitting a little distance away, looked up from the magazine he was reading.

"I managed to get out of it," he commented.

"Yes," Minerva said savagely, "because parties, celebrations and having a good time in general are against your religion."

"Cold," Severus replied, with a small smirk, going back to his reading.

"But true," Rolanda added.

Pomona managed to sit up straight, letting a sigh.

"He has a point though," she said, in a voice that was unusually grumpy, "I mean, why do we need to have a ball? Dancing, of all things?"

Rolanda turned her head in surprise.

"Dancing is the best part!" the tiny witch exclaimed, jumping to her feet, "I wouldn't have let them cancel Quidditch if I wasn't going to get to dance instead!"

"I'm looking forward to it too," Aurora said, beaming.

As the youngest member of the faculty, Aurora still got excited about things like that. She was too young to have experienced a Yule Ball during her time at school, so this would be her first experience of it. Not to mention, it meant she got to wear really high shoes; as an astronomy teacher, those opportunities didn't come around a lot.

"I hear Mad Eye has got you dancing in any case," Septima said slyly.

Aurora blushed a little.

"He thought he ought to make an appearance, to leave a good impression," she explained, "and decided that I would be a suitable partner."

"Suitable partner," Septima echoed sarcastically, "How painfully romantic."

"Oh it's nothing like that," Aurora snapped.

"Of course it isn't," Rolanda said, "It's because she's small and non-threatening. He's assessed the options and has decided that, of all of us, Aurora will be the least likely to randomly attack him in the middle of a cha-cha."

And all those who knew Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody thought this was a much more feasible explanation for his actions.

"Well, I'm excited!" Aurora said again, crossing her hands in her lap, "I've never been to a ball before!"

"Basic run down," Poppy said, who was in an uncharacteristically bad mood, "It's a evening of trying to get drunk enough to stay sane, whilst trying to stay sober enough to tell students off for being just as drunk as you are."

Pomona smiled and Minerva muttered something that might've been "amen". Aurora looked a little shocked at the general reaction of her colleagues. Rolanda too seemed dismayed at the attitudes of her friends.

"Come on, you hopeless old people," she whined, "Live a little! We're going to have a great time."

She went up to each person in turn, speaking as if what she had to say was the most inspirational thing to ever be voiced.

"Pomona," she said, "there will be music and food and copious amounts of alcohol that we'll all pretend not to know about; you don't even have to dance if you don't want to. Poppy, I don't know why you're so surly this afternoon, but you've always been the belle of the ball, so buck up. Minerva, you'll have a good time when you get there. And Septima, you haven't complained, but I daresay you will, so don't."

Poppy crossed her arms and went back to staring at the fire, though she looked slightly pacified. Septima looked affronted, but Pomona and Minerva both conceded with a little smile.

"I guess everyone will be there," Pomona shrugged, "Ludo Bagman. I never thought I'd get to say I'd been at the same party as him!"

"I know," Septima agreed, who was one of the younger teachers, but still old enough to have heard of him.

"A fine player of Quidditch if ever there was one," Rolanda said proudly.

She'd been a team mate of his when they'd both played for England.

"And he was very good looking," Poppy admitted.

"So good looking," Minerva sighed, sounding very unlike her usual self.

The older generation drifted into silent reminiscences of the aged sporting star, leaving Aurora sitting around, looking confused. She'd heard of him, of course; with the Triwizard Tournament going on, who hadn't heard of him. But she wasn't quite the right age to be remembering him with such fervent, fanatic passion as the others and, in any case, she'd never been big on Quidditch.

"Hey," she said, snapping her fingers in front of the nearest face, which happened to be Septima's, "The present day called and it'd like you all to come back!"

Pomona mumbled an apology, whilst Septima recovered from the shock of having been snapped at. Rolanda just grinned, catching Poppy's eye, who, despite her mood, grinned as well. Minerva straightened her back, regaining her composure with a quiet, embarrassed cough.

"He was very good looking though," she said throatily.

At that moment, Aurora glanced at her watch and let out a squeal.

"Septima," she cried, pulling the other witch to her feet, "it's five o'clock! We have to go get ready."

Severus, who had been watching from the corner of his eye, looked down at his watch and then stared back at her incredulously.

"You have three hours," he said in disbelief.

"It might take that long," Septima said in a flat voice, and she was dragged out of the room by an excited Aurora.

Rolanda smiled fondly as the pair left and then stood up herself.

"I think I'll go for a quick fly before I have to get changed," she said, picking up her broomstick from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder, almost knocking a vase from the mantel piece, "See you all at the party!"

A few minutes after her departure, Poppy stood up too. Her twisting hands and the obvious nerves in her voice perhaps explained the way she had been acting.

"Maybe we should get ready too?" she suggested, with some trepidation.

"Why?" Minerva scoffed, "We're not students! We don't have to put a ridiculous amount of effort into what we're wearing."

"But," Poppy said, quoting Septima "it might take that long!"

Minerva stared her down for a second and then let out a sigh. She could see it meant a lot to her friend. She had her suspicions why, but she didn't voice them. Pushing herself out of her chair, Minerva headed for the door, behind Poppy and flanked by Pomona, who didn't want to feel left out. The witches then went their separate ways, to their rooms, to prepare for what promised to be, at the very least, an interesting night.