Just a wee small interlude. There's some lovely long chapters coming up soon. ;) Happy weekend!

4 September 1992

"Oh, honestly," Minerva sighed, closing the Daily Prophet in disgust. "How can anyone justify being against a Muggle Protection Act?"

"Careful," Pomona said, as Severus passed them on his way out of the staff room. She lifted her eyebrows at Minerva. "You know who his favorite student's father is."

"I don't care if Lucius Malfoy's a school governor now," Minerva said frankly. "Dumbledore has outlasted about thirty of those." She rested her chin in her hand and looked at what Pomona was working on—marking diagrams of Snargaluffs drawn by the sixth years.

"I don't imagine an inquiry into Arthur Weasley's hobbies will help the case for a Muggle Protection Act, when he's such a proponent of it," Pomona observed. "Do you suppose—?"

"He won't lose his job," Minerva said, more to reassure herself than to answer Pomona. "If only because they don't have anyone who's as enthusiastic about Muggle liaisons as he is."

"All the same, an inquiry…"

"It's funny how they never really change, isn't it? Molly and her temper," Minerva sighed, taking off her spectacles and rubbing her sore eyes. "A Howler, honestly." She leaned back in her chair, watching Pomona a moment longer. "How is the Whomping Willow?"

Pomona arched an eyebrow at her. "It'll survive. It has no desire to be approached, at the moment, which means it's got its usual good humor back." She ticked something off on Percy Weasley's homework and marked it with a ten out of ten, flipping to the next assignment. "Did I tell you about the assistance I received in caring for it?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, not you, too," Minerva groaned.

Pomona looked up and chuckled. "What?"

"If you're about to tell me about how Gilderoy Lockhart is trying to do your job for you, I'll have you know you're the third one today," Minerva told her. "Severus is on the warpath, and I think Filius might be approaching a breaking point, and it's only the first week."

Pomona laughed out loud. "Oh, it wasn't all that bad, looking back. But he had a steady stream of advice, because, you know, he's encountered them many a time in his travels to South Africa. I almost let the Freezing Charm wear off just to see what he did."

"Shameful," Minerva clucked her tongue and shook her head, then stretched her arms. "I didn't realize Whomping Willows came from South Africa."

Pomona gave her an exasperated look. "Well, that's just it—they don't. I'm starting to think that you and Albus were right, that he really hasn't done some of the things in his books."

"Some?" Minerva asked lightly.

"Anyway," Pomona laughed, "he also cornered Harry in that first class. Pulled him right out of the line. I don't know what he said, but I don't think Harry liked it."

"That boy is a good judge of character," said Minerva, and Pomona laughed again.

At that moment, the staffroom door opened, and Gilderoy Lockhart appeared, his gleaming white smile preceding him into the room.

"Ah, Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall," he said, giving them each a little bow as he went over to the teapot and began making himself a cup.

"Afternoon, Gilderoy," Pomona said, with a slight smirk as she caught Minerva's eye. "Say, did you find a place for all those Cornish pixies?"

"Why yes, indeed," he replied, and he seated himself at the table beside her. Minerva almost groaned. "Hagrid agreed to take them—I can't imagine what for, but he did seem to like the little devils!" He gave a hearty laugh. "You know Minerva," he said, recomposing himself and fixing her with a knowing, conspiratorial look, "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Miss Hermione Granger, one of your students, is incredibly clever. She got one hundred and ten percent on my pop quiz!"

"Did she?" Minerva asked offhandedly. "That's interesting. I've always found her to be rather a dull girl."

Pomona made a noise that was somewhere between a sneeze and a cough, and had to pull out a handkerchief to cover her mouth. Lockhart wagged a finger in Minerva's face as he stood up.

"Ah-ah, you shouldn't be so hasty to write off your students," he told her. "After all, you never know who may turn out to be the next member of the Defense League." And he tipped her a huge wink as he left.

Openmouthed with astonishment, Minerva looked back at Pomona, who had buried her face in her hands and was shaking with laughter.