No Longer

Staff Meeting

A/N: Sorry for posting so much later than my usual first update of the day. Two doctors' appointments and attending Intensive Outpatient Program for my medical garbage were pretty draining. I have managed to put it together though, so kudos to me if I do say so myself. My, I'm certainly growing an ego over here. 

Sunday morning

Third Person**

A staff meeting had been called to discuss one of the newly arrived first years. It hadn't even been a full week, but he had made such an impression that all the professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were united in the belief that this meeting was necessary (though Minerva McGonagall, transfiguration professor and deputy headmistress, was the one to officially request it).

It had been decided that the Headmaster was not required for the procession of this particular case, so the ever busy liar who was unquestionably mentally disturbed, withheld his attendance. 

It was held in the staff room, which had a circle of very eclectic chairs to make up the focal point of the room. Every two seats, there was a table situated between them for refreshments or paperwork, depending on the situation.

The seats were as different as their owners, Professor McGonagall, for example, had a mahogany wooden chair with a painfully straight back and was made up of no-nonsense lines. Professor Sprout had an egg chair covered in moss with mushrooms popping out of the sides where she wouldn't sit on them, and an assortment of odd ivy, flowers, and thorny vines that made up the sides and back of the chair.

Professor Snape had a black wooden armchair that was deceptively comfortable, with the best view of the room at large. The Headmaster, although he was not in attendance, had a navy blue overstuffed two-person couch, covered in constellations and gold glitter.

Professor Quirrel, for the brief period of time he'd been there, had occupied a now abandoned run of the mill, office style boring gray wheelie chair. Professor Trelawny had a brown rocking chair suited to a grandmother with crystals and dreamcatchers dangling from it, although she was not present for the meeting as she didn't teach first years.

An honorary spot was left empty, a place for Professor Binns, although now that he was dead, he never attended the staff meetings. Madame Hooch had a plush white loveseat, covered with patterns of the snitch, broomsticks, quidditch hoops, and quaffles.

Filius Flitwick had a comfortable blue and bronze swing chair that gave him a desperately needed height advantage, considering his diminutive nature. There were a few other chairs as well, but the point to take away is the oddity of such a circle, and the ridiculousness of its appearance.

The professors, however, all wore somber faces before the meeting commenced.

"Now," McGonagall said, opening the meeting as she had both called it and was deputy headmistress, giving her highest status, "We all know why we're here, but to put it simply right up front, Harry Potter is prodigious in his magical and mental abilities. Such a promising young talent I doubt has ever graced our halls before, but we must take into account his accelerated knowledge.

"I am certain that if we were to put him to the OWLs tomorrow, that he would pass every test with flying colors. Perhaps even NEWTs. If anyone wishes to contradict my statements, I would like to hear so now."

The room was silent as church, the professors looking from one to another with curiousity superimposed on every face.

Flitwick spoke up at last, "Minerva my dear, I do not speak up to contradict, I merely question whether the boy is well placed. In my class, when I set a task, he always pretends to practice it first, but there is no effort behind it. He seems to be holding back for some reason. I worry that the boy is trying too hard not to overshadow his peers and that being stuck surrounded by the other first years is damaging to his potential."