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For anyone walking into the Hogwarts Staff Room, one would think they’d been teleported unto a completely different part of the castle (not unlikely in a magical school like Hogwarts); however, that would not be the case. The hazy smoke that seemed to linger in the air from the professors’ bad habits had dissipated, the bits of parchment scribbled with random notes had been cleared, and the various bits of rubbish that seemed to be ever present in the room had been tossed in the bin. The Hogwarts elves had been in to do a supreme cleaning and the usually dull surfaces were gleaming and freshly polished.

Minerva McGonagall, ever the traditionalist, didn’t necessarily enjoy the changes to the room. She who had always secretly enjoyed the smell of cigar smoke that had been a part of the room since she started at the school so many decades before. She did, however, see the need for the drastic renovations. The staff needed to be out of their comfort zones for this meeting to take full effect, and it was either this or try and cram twenty plus people into her office, a magic trick in itself.

In addition to the spotless environment, the windowless room had been lit with several extra candles and from the elder witch’s wand issued forth several bright white orbs that presently floated to the ceiling and hung there, giving off additional lighting. The Headmistress stood at the head of the large table, looking around at the empty seats before her. She had thought about summoning several straight-backed chairs to fill the spots around the table, but Minerva wasn’t sure how long the meeting would take and she didn’t want to torture the staff. Instead, she simply swished her wand and watched as the well-worn chairs (as well as one couch) literally grew legs and clumped over to position themselves around the table.

Hopefully the staff would be of the mind to bring their own writing implements, if they felt the need to take notes. The table was bare, save a few tins of biscuits and teapots, scattered around the table almost as an afterthought. She settled herself gingerly into the large chair that had positioned itself at the head of the table and placed her wand upon the table, satisfied for the moment.

The staff would be arriving any moment and Headmistress McGonagall would have to be extremely diplomatic. She, of all people, knew how difficult running a school could be if you didn’t have the support of your staff.

The agenda had been duplicated and sent out to each of them, and Ignan had traipsed round the castle and sent owls, interrupting weekends to ensure each of them would be present in the staff room at the correct time, and preferably wearing shoes in Tapendra's case.

Hopefully within a week or two he'd feel a little more settled under the steely eye of Minerva, but he was not one to slack in the meantime. First impressions!

Minerva had been arranging the staff room as she preferred, Ignan realised. He'd tried to at least tidy it up a bit for her, not keen to upset the well established equilibrium that everyone had become familiar with. However, the Headmistress knew how she wanted it, and had added a rather more homely touch than her less emotionally-tuned deputy who would have made everyone sit on hard chairs to ensure the meeting was no longer than it had to be.

"Ready?" He asked Minerva, leaving the door ajar - not enough for students to see much, not that there were too many milling about on a Sunday, but enough for staff to feel no hesitation to enter. Ignan stepped forward and placed a pile of extra copies of the agenda in the middle of the table, within wand summoning distance if nothing else.

Tapendra was indeed wearing shoes. After the accidental run in with the Headmistress when he'd not been properly dressed, he was naturally out to make an impression that didn't paint him as someone who ran around the castle barefoot. In jeans. Or in funny t-shirts.

Even if that was what he did - best to not have the Headmistress think it.

Thankfully, he wasn't over dressed, either. The suits Darian had made him at the beginning of the year were quite comfortable and professional without being the equivalent of a tuxedo. He turned up in a white dress shirt, then, with a proper waistcoat, slacks and proper leather shoes. He even switched to his wizarding gold-rimmed glasses, rather than the muggle black frame square ones he so often took to.

He hovered outside the door for a few moments, having realized on his descent from the Tower that he'd have to be in the same room as Kesali. That had been something he'd avoided for over a month; he wasn't too keen on this meeting due to that. And due to the fact that he hated general staff meetings. Tapendra liked the vast majority of his colleagues, but very few of them agreed with his methods.

So long as he didn't fall asleep again, he supposed. They'd been nice enough, this time, to arrange a staff meeting that didn't take place early in the morning after he'd been up til 3am, dealing with students and homework.

Finally, he gave in and knocked on the door, since it was ajar slightly. He looked at Ignan first, eyebrow raising, before he looked at McGonagall and smiled politely.

"Sorry to intrude, Headmistress, Professor," he said. "Are you not ready for us quite yet?"

Like Tapendra, Aileen had chosen her outfit with more thought than usual this Sunday afternoon. For her, that meant dressing to complement McGonagall's conservative, ultra-traditional attire. She wore a black cloak over a green, long-sleeve dress, confident it would suit the occasion.

Abby did not approve. Aileen's little sister had woken up before noon to mime wand movements at her, insisting that the hem needed to be shorter and the sleeves nonexistent. Aileen had reminded her of the chill in the castle. Abby had pointed out that she could cuddle up to a certain someone. And Aileen had poofed away!

Her steps slowed as she noticed Tapendra filling the doorway of the staff room. Aileen tilted her head, puzzled but secretly relieved by his choice of clothing. He must have a section in his closet labeled: Fashionable; Only Wear Occasionally to Confuse Runes Professor.

She peeked around his shoulder, spotting Professor Storm and McGonagall among the flickering candles, balls of light, and tidy table. Every Headmistress made her mark in some way, and Aileen greatly preferred the clean atmosphere to the stifling and tyrannical approach of Snark. Of course, she still preferred Headmaster Reid to both Headmistresses, but she did respect McGonagall. She hoped to show it a little more this time, now that a few days had passed since she'd met her in her office just after she'd arrived.

Aileen slanted a mischievous look at the back of Tapendra's head. Then, she silently Accioed an agenda. It brushed past his shoulder and flew into her hand, alerting him to her presence if he hadn't realized she was there already.

"Too slow," she teased as she scanned the parchment, lowering her chin to hide her smirk.

Rubeus Hagrid had no hard feelings for Herschel Reid, and he hoped things would get better for the man--but as Hagrid made his way to the staff room, the half-giant couldn't hide the smile threatening to overtake his features. He hadn't dressed terribly well for the occasion, he had creatures to tend to and to keep in check and he was constantly outside tending to something--if he had dressed up he would just be wasting a clean outfit.

So, with the scent of dried wood and dirt, the Care of Magical Creatures appeared behind everyone in the doorway to the staff room, wearing a rough pair of dark pants tucked into his large boots, as his broad-shouldered torso wore a simple tunic and was draped in his long heavy coat.

"S'cuse me," came Hagrid's gruff voice has he leaned down to squeeze through the doorway and past the other lingering professors, though, despite how well he could maneuver through a forest, the half-giant couldn't help but bump a few people as he worked his way through the doorway. He gave a few grumbling "Sorry"'s as he finally pulled himself into the room and avoided meeting eyes with his co-workers.

The scruffy wizard finally stood to his full height as he spotted a couch, large enough to fit his tush, and then nodded a beaming smile towards Minerva with a firm and crisp tone, "Headmistress." Hagrid then lowered himself onto the couch and patiently and quietly waited for the meeting to begin.

Despite a few months of being at Hogwarts again, there was still a handful of staff members he didn't know or really talk to; either he felt he was too much older than them, that they wouldn't enjoy his company, or that he was too busy with classes and creatures to bother being social. However, Hagrid was at ease with his students, and as a professor, that was all he really cared about right now, (that and McGonagall was back) so he figured everything else could come later.

Landis slipped into the room right after Hagrid, a shadow easy to miss in the half-giant's merrier wake. The blonde of his hair shone straight against the dark colors of his suit but as always he was dressed relatively somber, perpetually suited for a professional impression. He nodded politely to those who caught his eye, face smooth as a stone, remote, unsmiling - but not with a necessarily unpleasant expression.

It was going to be an interesting meeting. Having been a student during the tumultuous war, Landis was familiar with McGonagall as Headmistress. She had been strict and strong during uncertain times, and that had only been - what - 10 years ago? It was strange how seeing her at the head of the table could so easily bring that era back.

Unfortunately he had been a prefect during his latter years with several close and unruly friends, giving McGonagall more reason to remember him than not. Landis did not appreciate reminders of his age or relative inexperience and hoped that such remembrances would not color Minerva's impression of his capabilities. He was the youngest of the staff but for the school councilor, a fact of which he was certainly aware. However, she had been teaching for so long that every Hogwarts alumn here had been her pupil. Surely that evened the playing field.

He would need to speak with her privately at some point, as Minerva McGonagall would doubtless want to be informed as to the current state of Slytherin House and be made aware of any issues contained within. Landis almost looked forward to it, enjoying as he did all the little necessities of wonderful, meticulous, efficient bureaucracy. Nevertheless, with every new Headmaster and Headmistress he had to regroup. McGonagall was sharp. Landis would watch where he stepped.

Nightingale, looked as he always did--blown in on a breeze, and as if he'd rather clearly be reading elsewhere. His attire in shambles and from a thrift store no less, but was tradition and what he was raised on. His light foot steps carried him in quietly, and found him skirting around the edge of the room. The brown leather that crossed his face was hidden well, the clasp running along the back of his skull--hidden by his long pale hair, and rest over the socket of his eye as if it had always been there. He carried a leather bag on his side, full of the parchments from his classes. Their reviews were nearly finished, and he was working on a few handouts.

Upon entering the room the first thing Gale noticed was how underdressed he was. How even Hagrid looked better kept then he did, and he instantly flushed. A nervous hand came up to comb through his long hair, and tried to avoid as much eye contact as he could. Gale eyed the seat beside the half-giant and wondered if he could fit there beside him. Hagrid had always been a dear favorite of his, he shared his same love of animals, and frankly he was about certain the only person here that would be able to keep him still. He felt secure beside the beast of a man, even if his own hand could be swallowed whole by a single figure of the other Professor.

The room was so intimidating, but he didn't know what was worse. The Headmistress or Ignan.....probably Ignan, but it wasn't until he spied Tapendra did he want to really throw up.

Of course, Tapendra would be in his best suit, and of course he'd use all those polite manners that he seemed to be blessed with, but still the sound of the other man's voice made his skin crawl--and he shivered. He didn't need to avoid the Astronomy professor much as it turned out Tapendra did a well enough job on his own, but it was clear that Gale had nearly forgotten about the man until seated in the same room. The glare there in Gale's good eye wasn't at all hidden, he didn't even try to hide the disgust he felt, but he wouldn't give him too much attention.

"May I sit with you?" He asked Hagrid in a voice that could hardly be made out, but one clear he wasn't going to wait for an answer. He plopped right down on the couch, and sat on his hands to keep from fidgeting with his hair--a very nervous habit.

"Quite the opposite, Tapendra, come in." Ignan replied, ushering his friend in. Rubeus, Aileen and Landis were all close behind, and Ignan greeted them each with a respectful nod until Nightingale appeared.

The Deputy Headmaster's cold stare followed the man across the room until he sat down beside Hagrid. He contemplated calling Kesali out for the poor choice of attire - it was disrespectful to the importance of meeting Minerva, but instead he gritted his teeth. It didn't do to start things off with a reprimand. He glanced to his superior, gauging her reaction, and conveying in a look that he was not pleased.

"Further copies of the agenda are on the table." Ignan instructed them all gruffly, and placed a hand on the back of one of the empty seats nearby, deciding quietly whether a seat roughly opposite Minerva would help keep eye contact, and allow him to hear any disagreement amongst the ranks, or if sitting beside her was more apt. Perhaps he would sit beside Kesali just to rattle him. Without realising, he had resumed glaring at the charms professor...

Hooch was flying in directly.  The old witch didn't live at the castle because her duties didn't require a constant presence and at over nine decades she'd enjoyed the prerogative to settle in and maintain her habits.  That, and she enjoyed the broomstick rides across Scotland.  She landed her custom-made broom on the front steps of Hogwarts and breezed into the Entrance Hall with the cold November wind.  She smelled like chilliness as she made her way into the staff room, broom, goggles and all.

Inside, many of her colleagues where already present.  It had been a real shame to lose Headmaster Reid - Hooch had quite liked him.  But they could ask for no better replacement than Minerva McGonagall.  Hooch admired her greatly and coming in on a Sunday was the smallest possible favor she could have asked her.  She leaned her broom nearby the door and took a seat.

"Morning, everyone," she greeted as she set her goggles atop her head and peeled off her thick gloves finger by finger.

"Hand us an agenda, please?"  And someone obliged. 

Tapendra shot Ignan a smile, but the expression faded to one of momentary confusion as Aileen teased him. He stared at her for a moment, struggling with the feeling that he'd been bested at...something. But he wasn't sure what.

Then again, she said it so lightly she was probably joking, he concluded, and smirked at her slightly.

He scurried into the room ahead of Hagrid - gods knew that trying to slide in past the giant would be next to impossible - and was in the middle of finding his seat when Kesali entered. He glanced up but quickly looked away. He was determined not to let Kesali bother him today. If something went badly at this meeting, he was not going to be the one to start hurling insults.

The man's state of dress did let him be a bit smug, though. For once he wasn't the most unprofessional one in the room! Then he realized that that still wasn't much of a prize, and he found a seat, slightly deflated. He handed Hooch an agenda, picking one up for himself. He'd selected a chair closer to the Headmistress than not, but leaving plenty of room for one of the other House Heads to be closer. This was quite on purpose; it was probably proper that the Heads sit at the right and left of the Headmistress, after all.

Probably.

Minerva watched as the staff started showing up, some choosing to barge right in while others stood at the door, as if intimidated by her presence. She wanted their respect, yes, but not through intimidation. Perhaps it was Ignan Storm they were intimidated with; she could see how a lesser witch might be. She greeted the staff as they entered, but tried to not engage in conversation, preferring to watch the body language of the room at large.

It was obvious that their staff wasn’t working as a cohesive unit as there was some barely concealed tension between the Charms and Astronomy professors. She caught her Deputy’s eye and gave a small nod, letting him know that she had, indeed, noticed the state of Kesali’s dress. She wasn’t worried about his attire, to be quite honest. It was Sunday, after all, and had Minerva thought she could get away with it, she would have come to the meeting in her most comfortable pink slippers. She was much more worried about Nightingale’s choice of seating. He was a very brave man, taking a spot on the same couch as Rubeus Hagrid.

She couldn’t help but feel her spirits lift as the room came together. Old friends and new alike, masters in their own rights. Something just felt right about being here. She went around the room, taking mental notes on everyone present. She was rather impressed with Storm’s managerial abilities, taking the clerical part of the meeting and running with it. She’d let him handle that and would simply do the talking once everyone arrived.

He'd forgotten the hand out...of course, and stood to get his own, but when he noticed Ignan's glare everything in the room seemed to stop. Was he glaring? At him? Gale looked to both sides rather slowly, before grabbing his paper and slipping back in his seat. As a child he'd suffered a small bout of ticks that had earned him rather colorful names. He had been put through many different calming exorcises to get rid of the twitches, but all of those went out the window. It started with his nose as it scrunched a few times, before he cleared his throat, and started to bounce his knee.

Maker, he's really glaring... Over what? Why not anyone else in the room? He wondered if Tapendra got in there and tattle-taled like the little punk child he was, but conveniently left out the parts that wouldn't paint him anything other than pansy pink. Figures.

Stop it.... The phantom voice hissed against the back of his mind, and the pounding started at the base of his skull. They are no different than you are Nightingale, and I'll not have you cower. No, Arthur would have removed Tapendra's head in the forest, and Ignan's eyes from his sockets. But Gale fought his battles with his intellect, and stood ready and willing to do battle with either of them.

Sitting straight on the edge of his seat, he pulled on his 'prince mask' and despite his rather unkept attire it worked well enough, but nothing seemed to relax him more than his own smile across his face. Like a jewel it was rare, and saved only for special occasions. And as he turned his attention to Minerva he gave her a rather genuine grin,

"It's good to see you again, Minerva." Oh....the dreaded first name. Like the Fae it held some sort of power over another to know ones true name, but to speak it...oh goodness that was a crime was it not? But they were more than just colleagues. They were survivors. She had known him since he was a boy, they had laughed together, cried together, and fought a war together. He'd lost an eye, and his sanity. But had anyone ever stopped to ask what it was she had gone without?

"Headmistress." He finally corrected himself, and tucked his feet beneath him on the sofa before finally meeting Ignan's hateful glare--with his brave face on.

As soon as Kesali asked to sit next to him Hagrid looked at what little room was left on the couch, "Er, well I don't think--" but it was too late, the frail man had already taken his seat on the couch. If that wasn't enough suddenly it seemed that the Storm made it a point to glare at the man... whatever was going on, the tension in the room seemed to be rising, and Rubeus Hagrid preferred to have no part in it. He already enjoyed being awkward on his merits, he didn't need to get caught in the middle of something.

The Charms professor rose from his seat again to get an agenda, and as he sat back down on his little sliver of couch, bending up under the half-giant's weight, Hagrid suddenly acted like he spotted a dragon egg on the table.

"Ooh biscuits," he grunted rather contently as he rose from the couch, letting the couch cushions return to their normal state. Then he inched towards a bowl, acting as if he wasn't nearly twelve-feet-tall, "Dont mind if I take a bowl for mehself?" his beetle black eyes moved from Minerva to Storm before he picked up a bowl like it were some chicken noodle soup.

"Best stand for a bit too, don't want any crumbs on the couch." Despite his large hands, Hagrid managed to slide a few biscuits into his palm and into his mouth rather timidly, managing to only get a few specks of crumbs on his large mane of a beard. He swallowed and then looked around the room with a large smile, "Don't pay me no mind, bit starved, haven't had time ta cook today."

Landis ended up closer to the head of the table, on the opposite side of Hagrid and down a good bit. This was fortunate as Kesali soon slunk in and selected a seat next to the half-giant. Landis' gaze flicked over Gale's attire, a brief and thorough glance. There was no dress requirement, but to meet the new Headmistress even Trishna was wearing shoes.

He wasn't the only one who'd noticed - Ignan was outright glaring. Landis paused, noting the mood of the room. Surely the informality was not the only reason for Ignan's cold stare. Kesali's visible eye was hardly peaceful either. For once the puffer-fish bristling didn't seem to be directed at Landis, but still... towards this end of the table...

Landis' eyes settled on Tappy. Interesting. He reached out and selected an agenda, considering. He and Kesali had had a rough start, though he suspected now that there were no circumstances under which he would have ever found the man agreeable. However, Landis was not interested in keeping up an animosity with a colleague and rarely cared to respond to Gale's snippy remarks. It was intriguing to know that others found Kesali's strange behavior abrasive, and promising especially if among those number included Ignan Storm. Trishna he could really take or leave, but it wasn't the first time they'd been strange bedfellows.

Mind you, it didn't really mean anything that some of the staff had been here when Sissel was a bright new Gryffindor. And neither was he the youngest, a few more could be notched under his age. But still, it was McGonagal. The 'Please-not-another-horrifying-quidditch-stunt' and 'Now-you-want-your-major-focus-in-history?' former head of house. Suffice to say Sissel had been a pill when he had been, oh, a dumb kid. Not that he was still one.

There had been some debate over dressing up or not, the top hat might be much and Layton had the habit of switching back to rabbit form when he got nervous in front of gatherings. And who wants the business meeting to turn funny when everyone notices the bunny on your head.

So no hat/rabbity thing. Sissel's level of spiffy was a relaxed suit and stripped trainers. Although this far along into being at the castle the question became if he even owned another pair of shoes at all.

Deciding that worrying would get him nowhere, Sissel whistled a ditty as he found a seat, unfolding his agenda copy.