When she finally makes her way to the back table, Augusta fixes her with a stern look as she sits down. "I don't appreciate your telling my grandson what OWLs I've failed," she says.
Minerva smiles wanly. "Oh, someone has to keep you humble," she says. "It did bolster his spirit, too."
"His spirit needed no bolstering," says Augusta. "He's been walking on clouds since he fought at the Ministry."
"No doubt," says Minerva, although she privately prefers walking-on-clouds Neville to crushing-self-doubt Neville.
They both take the first sip of tea; Augusta sighs in contentment and Minerva licks her lips.
"I'm warning you," says Augusta. "If you tell him about my Ancient Runes OWL as well, I'll tell him about the party you threw when Edward Pickelby got the Snitch in fifth year."
"You wouldn't dare," says Minerva, who had been proud of the (impressive) party but who would prefer it didn't become common knowledge. She's got a reputation to protect.
"Try me," says Augusta.
They both sip their tea and Minerva raises her eyebrows haughtily. "Neville doesn't need his spirit bolstered in Ancient Runes, luckily," she says, and Augusta laughs.
"I cannot believe he wanted to take Divination. Of all the things."
They shake their heads in unison.
"You wouldn't believe the week I've had," says Minerva. "The Malfoy boy's more unpleasant every day, two of the seventh years broke up and started a feud, and Albus is off in the country more often than not and leaving me to crisis manage."
"How unfortunate," says Augusta. "What on earth could Albus be doing?"
"He jokes about scouting for a retirement home," says Minerva. She shakes her head. "I don't believe it. I've said it before and I'll say it again but you'd have to kill him to get him out of Hogwarts. And even then he'd probably insist on being buried in the forest."
"He's a truly insane man," says Augusta.
"But the students love him," says Minerva, shaking her head. "I wish he were around more often, though. Yesterday we had an argument in the staffroom."
"Tell me everything." They have not outgrown gossip yet, unfortunately.
"Filius and Pomona replaced all the mugs and Severus liked the old ones. Those things should best be left to Albus, I fear. I'm not an impartial judge."
"You liked the old mugs too?"
Augusta knows her too well. "Precisely."
"What could Albus be up to?" says Augusta musingly. "He came to visit the other week and his hand's turned gray. He must be dabbling in experimental spells or something."
"It's a mystery," says Minerva. "We can only speculate."
They both take a sip.
"Of course he could also be getting old," says Augusta.
"People don't usually turn gray when they get old," says Minerva.
"We did," says Augusta.
"You're too unkind," says Minerva.
They sip their tea.