Minerva drew in a deep breath as she sat down, dropping a large folder onto the table in front of her. Around her, she could feel her staff tense at the size, but no one dared to question their agenda.

"Welcome to the annual staff-meeting," Minerva droned, already wishing that she had opted to skip this year; these would never feel the same without Albus. "I believe we all know the first order of business?"

Around her, the Heads of Houses nodded and retrieved pieces of parchment from their robes, Professor Sprout being the first to speak, "All of my students are on their way to graduation."

Next was Professor Hagrid, now the Head of Gryffindor, "Yup, mine are all doin' just fine."

After him was Professor Wiggins, the new Potions master and Head of Slytherin, "I have one concern with a girl in my batch, but I'm meeting with her next week to tie things up. I'll give you a report on it by next Wednesday."

Minerva nodded, liking what she was hearing, but then frowned at the missing voice, "Professor Flitwick? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all," the short man replied, his bushy eyebrows furrowed as he started at his paper.

"Is one of your students NOT on their way to graduation?"

"Well, I'm trying to remember if taking the flying class is required to graduate..."

"It is," Minerva answered, feeling sorry for her colleague. He was getting rather old and his memory was starting to falter.

"Then yes, I have one girl who might not graduate this year; she never took the required flying course."

Minerva was, quite frankly, confused at this; why would Albus not schedule this girl for her flying lessons?

"What is her name?"

"Darling, Aletta Darling."

"Oh, I know 'er," Hagrid called suddenly before breaking into a deep laugh, "Well, that makes things a 'ole lot clearer, now, don' it?"

"Hagrid, will you care to explain?" Minerva asked, glancing at the burly man over her glasses, which she had retrieved when she started to flip through her student-book.

"She's an animagus; she turns into a bird! She can already fly!"

His deep laugh filled the room again as Minerva whispered the girl's name, flipping open the small, thin book to find the girl's records. She sighed when she found that what Hagrid had said was right; Dumbledore had made a note on her file that she was an animagus and had not been required to take flying lessons. The question now, would Minerva allow her to graduate?

"Well, Minerva," Flitwick asked, glancing at her earnestly; Ravenclaw never had ANY problems with its students and whether or not they graduated. More often there was an issue with sixth years who had taken extra courses, filled their requirements, and wanted to graduate a year early.

"I suppose she has to take the lessons, she simply cannot go out into the wizarding world without knowing how to use a broom."

And then suddenly, the room broke into hysterics. Teachers were yelling all sorts of things at each other, and Minerva wasn't quite sure why. Suddenly, when Albus died, everyone started fighting over everything.

"But when will she take these lessons?"

"Won't she be ridiculed by her classmates if they find out?"

"Madame Hooch just retired, who will teach this girl?"

"QUIET!" Minerva glared around the room at her teachers, slightly ashamed to head such a quarrelsome lot, "She'll take the lessons privately, and we'll let it be her choice to tell people. As for who will be teaching her, I've found a replacement for Madame Hooch-"

The door opened behind her, shutting a second later with a loud thunk. Everyone turned in their seats to see the late-comer, a slightly disheveled young man with half a powdered-donut in his mouth.

His voice came out thickly-accented in Scottish as he looked around the room and swallowed the rest of the pastry, "Hello, sorry I'm late."