Professor McGonagall strode through the corridor towards the teacher’s lounge in measured strides. Her pace was enough to keep her well ahead of the chattering first years behind her without appearing to run. She projected a stoic calm most of the students would interpret as stern but fair. Any of her colleagues would throw one look at her face and immediately make excuses and disappear down the opposite direction of the corridor.
The professor finally reached the teachers’ lounge and threw up the door, letting it close behind her with a bang. The bearded man slouching off on a flowery hillside in the painting hung on the wall by the door, woke abruptly and jumped to his feet gesturing rudely. McGonagall ignored him, pale faced she pressed her back against the door, drawing in panicked breaths. The paper pile in her hands sailed to the floor and spread out like petals in the wind across the room.
“Really Minerva?” Severus Snape drawled from the depth of the armchair by the window, nose buried in the latest edition of Wizardy Wonders.
“If I have to explain the very basics, THE VERY BASICS of transfiguration to that Page boy one more time I think I’ll scream. How he got his OWLs last year is beyond me!” Minerva cried out in a shrill voice “and if the Weasley twins “forget” that they have stinky cloud bombs on a timer in their pockets again I’ll cry! Not to mention the Lovegood girl’s gibberish questions! I guess she is sweet and rather innocent but dear me, I can’t bear to hear more about Flabbergibbles or Putzelsnivelers and I don’t know whatchamacallits anymore.” Minerva gasped for air before launching into the next tirade.
“And now I have to read through and correct the fourth years essays on Szefarc’s theorem - 68 of them, 68! I’m sure it will be as dreadful as the year before last. Poor Szefarc would turn in his grave if he had any idea what these kids are dreaming up about his beautiful theorem! I just can’t go through this again. This term … I can’t wait for it to be over!” Minerva buried her face in shaking hands.
Poppy Pomfrey, who was luckily seated by the inglenook rose to her feet and approached Minerva with a worried frown on her face. She had seen teachers break down before of course, usually just before end of term, but never Minerva.
“There, there Minerva, come sit with me and Pomona by the fire and have a nice cuppa. Nothing like a cuppa tea to calm the nerves.“ She led Minerva to the comfy two-seater in front of the fireplace. Pomona Sprout quickly poured a cup of tea and pushed it into Minerva’s shaking hands and sat down beside her. Gently patting her backside.
Minerva gulped down the tea. Muttering a few well-chosen and utterly uncharacteristic swear words under her breath when she scalded her tongue and abandoned the tea cup, blue Italian Spode porcelain, on the armrest. The other two women looked at her aghast. This was bad, terribly bad! Pomona poured some more tea into the cup.
“I’m sure I have some chocolate somewhere, just a second dearie!” Poppy exclaimed and frantically started searching the sizable pockets on her apron.
“Letting the student’s get to you, pfff… this is beneath you Minerva. Get yourself together woman!” The dry, high pitched voice of Irma Prince, the resident librarian resounded through the teachers’ lounge. The skinny wisp of a woman stalked up to them pulling out a flask from the inside of her grey robe.
“Here, this is what you need.” After taking a swig herself, she poured a generous amount of the amber coloured liquid into the tea cup. As if an afterthought she added another splash. It was decidedly more spirits than tea in the cup by now but Minerva downed it in one go and nodded her thanks to the librarian.
“Move over Pomona.” The librarian ordered and the herbology professor quickly jumped up with a disgruntled expression. Irma sat down next to Minerva and fixated her steely gaze on her long-time friend and colleague.
“Now, listen carefully Minerva, you will have some more tea and calm yourself. Then you will take your essays.” The librarian paused and let her eyes scan the room before pointing her wand in the direction of the scattered papers and muttered “Convenire et exstat ordo”. The papers immediately flew into the air and started an intricate dance before they elegantly filed themselves in an orderly stack again in the middle of the floor.
“As I was saying, you will take your essays to your study and start working on them. Tomorrow you will do classes. Nothing out of the ordinary, then more essays, until you are done. It’s just one week left of the term. Then you get to rest. You can do this Minerva.”
Minerva regarded her doubtfully before giving a terse nod. “Just one more week.” She said with wave to her voice.
The librarian nodded in response and silently handed Minerva the flask. “Just one more week.”