As the entrance hall flooded with students of all ages, calling out to one another for another round of goodbyes, one last joke and, above all, the inability to not stay at a respectable volume. Two of the esteemed staff stood on the veranda the floor above, looking down at the scene with two vastly different expressions. The much older of the two watched with an indulgent smile, his beard twitching in amusement as the Weasley twins caused one of their classmates to shriek at them in annoyance. After nearly a century of teaching, Albus couldn't help but be thankful that the joys of looking after children hadn't waned, even when later on in life some of his charges turned to violence and bigotry. But, he couldn't help but think, they were all once innocent, ignorant of what was held in store for them. Even Tom Riddle hadn't been born evil; wrong perhaps, but not evil. He just realised that far too late, allowing his own prejudices and, dare he say it, arrogance to alienate the boy further. After all, watching all your precious possessions - among stolen goods - go up in flames on your first introduction to magic wasn't the best way to go about things. Especially when said boy lived in an impoverished orphanage during a global war. Yes Tom went on to perform the most horrific of deeds, even while a student himself, and there had always been those who were...unlikeable...but, overall, they all brought something to this most esteemed castle. Their tenure adding to its ancient legacy, which always made him smile, allowing a smidgen of leeway perhaps. To see them smile, laugh and bounce around helped ease the pain of knowing that once they stepped out of the gates for the last time as students, they were no longer protected. No longer innocent. The younger of the pair had a much different opinion. Though, perhaps, that was to he expected as he had been forced into the teaching profession instead of choosing it, like his mentor. Severus scowled as the volume increased unbearably, making him cast a Muffliato about himself, knowing Dumbledore somehow enjoyed listening to the squawking of children. After over a century of hearing it, you'd think he'd be more deaf. Severus sneered as the two Weasley menaces raced away as Miss Johnson yelled, about to chase after them before realising the stampede prevented this. Longbottom held court, doing an impressive impersonation of a puffer fish with how his chubby self strut about as if he owned the place. If it wasn't for the weight and hair colour, Sevrus could almost superimpose another person over the brat. At the thought, his eyes immediately flicked to where a huddle of Slytherims stood around, Greengrass standing to one side as Parkinson lectured the girl, who seemed to be floundering at whatever her peer said to her. He subconsciously analysed her, cataloguing the differences from what he saw at the beginning of the year; her weight had improved, although still too low for comfort. She seemed more relaxed around people, although from the looks of things large crowds were still an issue. He dreaded to think what she would have been like if she remained in then tender care of her aunt. He was loath to admit that the thought bothered him. It must have been the eyes; seeing Lily in them everywhere (though he didn't, not really), that or her being a Slytherin; he was forced to care about her safety, and health. Yes, that was it. Hearing the man chuckle beside him, Severus snapped his eyes to him, already having a quip in mind if he raised the fact he even glanced the girl's way. Instead though, Dumbledore was chortling at the sight of his Deputy Head.Minerva was in the middle of the entrance hall, surrounded by the mass of children, utterly relaxed now that she wasn't able to deduct points or more for their behaviour. She whipped her wand about, magically Summoning any contraband she saw - it may be the day of their leaving, but they were still on school grounds. She took perverse pleasure in scolding those that would be returning in the new school year, threatening to start their House in the negative for points. The Seventh Years were, as usual, harder to scold, though for the most part they were more subdued, reminiscing on the past and emotionally embracing one another. Never mind that they would see each other on the train and later on. As she heard the shrill pierce of "Weasleys!" She turned to see Fred and George scamper away with bright grins, their hands covered in ink. Rolling her eyes briefly, Minerva expertly maneuvered her way through the crowd until she stepped into their path of escape."Messers Weasley." She said primly as they skidded to a stop, careful not to jostle her. At least Molly managed to install some manners into them, she thought, idly cancelling a hair colouring Charm on Mr Casterley. "I see you have decided to end the year as you have begun." At their confused expressions, she allowed a small smirk - so small most couldn't detect it. "By losing Gryffindor points." Their faces dropped in shock and dismay, before one of them looked at her askew before smiling himself. "You wouldn't do that, Professor. It's only a bit of fun!""Yeah, prof. It's just a bit of fun!" The other echoed, making her raise an eyebrow."Miss Johnson, I think, would disagree. And so would I. An ink bomb isn't allowed on school grounds, let alone used against a fellow student. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Each." She announced, watching as the hourglass turned black with the announcement. "Merlin's b-" one of them started - she was sure it was Fred - before the other slapped their hand over his mouth, making her narrow her eyes. "Not a problem, Professor. It's given us a headstart for a challenge next September.We like a good challenge, don't we Georgie?" The one who had his hand over his brother's mouth - she was now certain he was George - said, with the other one nodding vehemently. "Well, then. Your challenge now is to get home without a further incident." Minerva told them primly, watching as they shot her synchronised thumbs ups and running off.They give James, Remus, Peter and Si - Black - a run for their money. And there's only two of them. Thank all that is good and holy that they're not quadruplets. She thought to herself, delicately shuddering at the thought as she continued to chastise the wayward flock, ordering them about. It took a further two hours to start escorting the students on to the carriages to take them down to Hogsmeade Station, as usual corralling First Years who hadn't seen the horseless carriages yet. She couldn't wait until she could collapse into a chair with the others. "Everybody find a compartment! The train is due to leave soon!" She yelled, with the added aid of a Sonorous, making those nearest to her clasp their hands over theirears and glower her way - before remembering who she was. She always loved that. It was train duty that made her commiserate with Serverus the most. Especially as she had to keep an eye on one celebrity and another a wayward scrap of a girl. Who always seemed to manage to disappear with alacrity.Speaking of whom - there she was, hiding behind Mr Zabini, as Mr Nott fought the crowds by dragging his luggage along with Miss Potter's. At least he didn't have her familiars - the crow was perched on her shoulder as usual, and the cat in Mr Zabini's arms, flicking it's tail in aggravation. He stated across at the students, glaring at any who came too close to Miss Potter, who he kept turning his head back to check on. Now Minerva, as a feline animagus, held a particular fondness for the cat familiars that stalked the corridors of Hogwarts, but Miss Potter's seemed to alert something more. She had the distinct impression that he wasn't as domesticated as first impression gave. At first she thought he could be part Kneazle with his intelligence, yet as she saw him more, interacting with his mistress and others, Minerva was unnerved. Of course he had sentience, but there also appeared to be a uniquely human sapience too. And the aura that both of Miss Potter's familiars gave off; she couldn't quite describe it as Dark perhaps, no, it was much too subtle for that. And certainly not Black magic - that aura hit you over the head with a club. Perhaps Blood Magic, but she was much too young to have such knowledge, especially with her upbringing, and though her Grandfather was also more, he was not one to bind animals to someone. There was definitely something about both creatures, and curse them to Hel, but she couldn't figure it out. Perhaps Pomona had an idea, or Hagrid. Both had an innate talent in discerning the intricacies if such delicate things in nature and animals, respectively. And if that failed, she would go to her books and connections to investigate; there was no point in talking to Albus. He would just smile serenely at her, making his damned eyes twinkle at her as he offered her some twice damned sweet every time she asked. Her teeth ached at just the thought. Finally, finally, she waved off Aurora Sinistra on to the train as the chaperone for the trip. She didn't envy her, but then again, when she had previously done the duty herself, it was rather mundane as the children were quite content to stick to themselves and create quiet mischief as they discussed their summer plans for the umpteenth time. As the silence rang down with the chugs of the train, she felt her shoulders only minutely relax. Anything could happen between here and London, and only Aurora and the conductor - a small, grim man who must have been older than Albus - were their only protection. "Come, Minerva." Pomona said, startling her as she patted a soil flecked hand on her arm. "They're out of your capable hands now. Let's have a spot of tea." She turned, before pausing and adding "Maybe there's cake!" As she skipped a slight step; which honestly looked more like she had tripped and slipped with her - rotund - figure. It was enough that Minerva reached out to try and steady her.Nodding her head as she looked back at where the train had disappeared from view, a single black feather glittered in her view. She walked towards it, curiosity getting the best of her - she ignored the immediate joke that Albus, or even Severus would have made - and bent to pick it up. The aura was unmistakable, thought faint, instantly recognisable as the one that pulsed around the crow that could often be seen perched around the castle this past year. Despite being the traditional pitch black, there were almost shimmers of bolts of silver, making a celestial effect. It was stunning. And rather curious. Against all the teachings of her parents telling her otherwise she pocketed the feather, intrigued at examining it closer in her own private quarters. Her office was too public, even with her staff the only other occupants of the castle, but they all knew her quarters were out of bounds to them unless absolutely necessary. Or your name was Albus Dumbledore; he had the most infuriating habit of popping around for a visit when all she wanted to do was indulge in a secret and guilty pleasure of turning into her cat form and lazing about in front of great fireplace in her sitting room. She had often complained with Severus about their Headmaster's inability to respect their privacy at times; although she wasn't quite so sullen as her younger colleague over the fact. But, then again, she too was guiltily of visiting his quarters to drag him outside, if not in the sunshine, then at least from the subterranean dungeons he thrived in. He was only human after all, despite the common rumours the students had spread about him since he was a boy and student himself at Hogwarts.Slipping the feather into a hidden pocket in her dress, she turned on the spot, appearing at once at the wrought iron gates of the school. She didn't think she would ever tire of seeing the sweeping slopes that graced the landscape, bordering the imposing sight of the stone castle nestled against the backdrop of the Forbidden Forest. For so many decades she had witnessed its unchanging guard over the Scottish Highlands, itself beholding the changes of time for a millenia. It had seen the rise and fall of Dark Wizards, fostering and educating some of them, but nurturing a sense of home in every single one of them. Even the loneliest child had found a kinship there. Even this past year, Miss Granger, who was so tempted to matriculate to another school, had been hesitant to dedicate herself to leave. Though Mr Longbottom may be rather...full of himself, and Mr Weasley's less than generous behaviour to her in the beginning, at least they fostered a friendship to the bright girl. She would have been sad to see her go.Once she had meandered her way leisurely to the staff room, it was to see most of her colleagues already situated, talking amongst one another. Her fellow Heads.of Houses were grouped together, as they were wont to do, although Severus looked suitably surly with his arms crossed and scowl firmly in place; nothing unusual there. Pomona was gesturing wildly with one hand whilst the other precariously held a cup of tea, the liquid sloshing about violently and almost going over the sides. Filius was listening to her calmly, whilst sipping at his own cup, a plate of barely touched cakes in front of him. It wasn't an usual dynamic, Severus glaring at the world in general as Pomona went into raptures or lectures on any chosen subject, Filius patiently withstanding the erratic behaviour. Minerva herself would alternate between listening, commiserating with Severus or adding in her own anecdotes and quips to the stories. Sweeping past the other staff she perched herself onto her usual chair, taking off her hat and crossing her legs at the ankles. It was as relaxed as she could be in public; being part of the Aurory for several long years in her youth installed a sense of alertness at all times; something she shared with her the resident Potions Master. Her upbringing also dictated a sense of decorum accustomed to the time, an unwillingness to truly 'let go' amongst others who were not family. Tuning into the conversation at hand, Minerva realised that Pomona was discussing the soon to be Second Years. "Miss Bones was such a delight this year!" She said, nearly hitting Filius in the face, making him jerk backwards. "So patient and tender with the plants! And not afraid to ask questions either, which is a nice change. Mr Longbottom could have been a little better though, Minnie." She told her, making Minerva purse her lips at the nickname, and Severus and Filius twitch their mouths in amusement. "He has a talent with the subject, can't deny that. But blimey does he think he knows best." Pomona sighed, taking a deep gulp of her tea. "He bally well was trying to tell me how best to prune the dang things. Not as if I've been doing this since before his parents started here." She huffed in an uncharacteristic grump."Yes, Fawley has had similar complaints." Minerva responded, flicking her eyes to the lone man in the corner of the room, idly flicking through a book. "Not to mention Severus. Though," she continued thoughtfully, "that is not too far out of character." She smirked, making him roll his eyes. "Gryffindors have always, and likely always will, bear the brunt of your animosity.""They shouldn't be so bull headed." He sniffed. "Truly brawn over brains. Which describes Mr Longbottom exceedingly well." "And Mr Malfoy doesn't display the toffiness of Slytherins? Och, Severus, you have your fair share of stereotypes too." Minerva sniped, narrowing her eyes at his self satisfied lazy smile. "Although Mr Nott is a rather breath of fresh air!" Filius squeaked, gaining their attention. "He was a delight to worn with. Much better than his father." He declared, with the hummed assent of the others. "I suspect he takes rather after his mother.""Good. Nott Senior is a prat." Severus replied, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Always the spineless sycophant. Not to mention brainless."Minerva snorted. "You're not wrong. Therewas a time, when I was an Auror, that I had cause to go to the Nott Manor and the little brat - as he was just a wee child at the time - had the gall to say the Dark artifact in question had "simply appeared".""Talking of Slytherins...Miss Potter was certainly not what I expected." Pomona said nonchalantly, reaching for a biscuit, not noticing the way Severus tensed."Yes!" Filius agreed, nodding vigorously, "do you know, she was the second to third to float her feather?!" He exclaimed happily. "Second to third?" Minerva chimed in, keeping an eye on the taciturn Potions Master."Hmm! Her and Mr Nott did so so close together it was difficult to determine who was first.""I'm inclined to think it was Mr Nott." Severus nearly spat. "She most likely copied him and was lucky in her attempts.""Och, don't be so hard on the girl! Everyone copies each other when they're learning. And luck cannae have anything to do with it - if she didnae have the talent, or magic, then she'd have failed.""Oh, careful Severus. You've brought out the brogue!" Albus chortled as he made himself comfortable on the remaining chair. "What was the discussion which awakened the Scottish One?""Miss Potter." Pomona offered as Minerva sputtered in indignation, muttering "The Scottish One?!" Over and over. "Ah! A delightful child, is she not?" Albus asked as he made himself a cup of tea and nibbled on a bourbon cream. "Ever so polite." Pomona nodded, "and tender. There's something about her that's...gentle. Almost hesitant, as if she is afraid something will come crashing down on her."That'd be the abuse, Minerva, Severus and Albus simultaneously thought in scathing, spiteful and doubtful regards, respectively.The evening wore on, Pomona and Filius going their separate ways as she Three descended into thoughtful silences and meaningful looks. That usually meant a serious discussion was needed, without the ears of others around. "What will you do now that it's summer?" Albus asked, as was his custom at the end of each term. "I'm to travel a bit I think." Minerva frowned, thinking of the feather resting in her pocket. "My brother has asked for me to visit as well. If he tries to set me up again, I shall Transfigure him. Dangerous, or no. I'm nae a Professor and Master of it for nothing." Albus chuckled, as he thought on the other thing that she hasn't disclosed - another custom. Minerva, like Albus and Severus liked to keep things close to the chest."And you, Severus? Are you to taste the flavours of the world?"Severus gave him a dry look. "We both know that's not possible. No, I'm to traverse the insipid gatherings of the Circle. Gather as much information as possible. And listen to inane gossip that has been overinflated and wasting our time.""It's been useful in the past, my boy." Albus soothed, looking at him over his spectacles."Which is why I endure as ever the dubious honour of lurking in the corners of the card table halls."Minerva sniggered. "And counting the cards, no doubt. And charging a fee to any who request it.""How else would a penniless teacher such as I afford the finer things in life?" He quipped, making the other two laugh out loud, and making a tugging sensation lurch in Serverus' stomach."Penniless is one thing that you are not, lad!" Minerva chortled with a grin. "I think you're one of the wealthiest out of all the staff.""Certainly more than Argus or Hagrid." Albus said with regret. Why those two always refused a raise was beyond him. One bore the brunt of student abuse and the other bullying, for barely two Galleons a week. Although, he idly mused to himself, Argus was not one who endeared himself to the student body. Or the staff. "Will you be undertaking any research this year?"Severus pulled a face; which for him was a sneer coupled with a don't be daft expression. "Only if permitted. Fawley may well demand a good portion of my time. And Lucius the remaining.""Do you have an inkling on what?" Minedva asked as she fixed herself a glass of scotch for the three of them from the cabinet at the back of the room. "Something nefarious and dubious, no doubt. And probably illegal. Other than that, no.""You will keep me abreast of the ongoings?" Albus asked as he nodded his thanks for the drink. "Don't I always?" Came the drawled reply, which in itself was answered with a clear look of do you really want me to answer that?."And you, Albus? Any particular plans?" Minerva interrupted the staring competition between the two men."Oh, the usual, I should think. I'd like to visit Nicholas, what with the Stone being destroyed. Perhaps a jaunt around the continent. I'll find something, I'm sure." He smiled blandly, swirling the amber liquid in the tumbler. And avoid Aberforth and Ifan Dylwythen, Minerva uncharitably thought, staring at him with disapproval dripping off her. Of course she understood the need and desire to see Monseiur Flamel, but he hadn't felt the urge to go to Europe for decades at this point. She suspected that he wished to avoid the conflict with the older Fae for as long as possible; he had already been harangued when Miss Potter was found and interred into the Hospital Wing with those grievous injuries. She had to admit she wasn't too affronted with the scathing remarks that were thrown his way; she sometimes thought that Albus had the tendency to be too methodical. It was all well and good ensuring the so called Greater Good, and being a general in a long, drawn out war, but people were still people. And children were most definitely innocents. It was one of her greater regrets that so many of her graduated students would quickly become embroiled in the two warring factions. And it was only getting worse. Everyday worse news seemed to come out, tortured souls coming forwards, dragging the corpses of their peers with them, rumours of a would be Dark Lord - if not the Dark Lord - bouncing around. It was rotten luck that Miss Potter had already become a victim, with no chance of a true childhood on the horizon. She had the dreaded thought that there was little to protect her from it. The best they could do was prepare her, like a sacrificial lamb as the shining beacon of hope and salvation pranced about with adoring fans and sycophantic followers. Yes, Minerva would do her damndest to protect her, if not for the girl, then for her parents; her favourite students by far to date. Looking at her two companions she knew that she was not alone in this decision.
RIP Maggie Smith