“Just be calm and confident, the old lass is gonna love you.” 

Paolo could always count on his friends when it came to motivational speeches.  Of course the advice they usually gave him tended out to be awful but the sentiment often spurred the young Gryfindor on and so, with these words ringing in his ears Paolo ascended the stairway that led to the Headmistresses office.  He hadn’t had many private dealings with McGonigle before, she was the head of the school so naturally he saw her around the castle and he pretended to listen to her speeches at the beginning and end of term but they didn’t really have any reason to meet on a one to one basis, before now that is.  Rossi had always been a relatively well behaved student; his grades were usually excellent too.  Sure sometimes he could be disruptive and occasionally he would flunk the odd mock exam but never anything so extreme that he had been sent to the headmistress.

Paolo straightened the small silver badge pinned to his black school robes that identified him as the duelling club president.  Two crossed wands was their insignia and if students hadn’t known beforehand all the fliers and posters that had been distributed around the castle advertising the duelling tournament this month informed them.  The tournament was Paolo’s baby, his attempt to reinvent the school club and make it an attractive alternative to quidditch and in this year’s case the tetrawizard tournament.  So much competition, people were forgetting about his beloved club.  Of course he had had some help from Gracie Slant, she was as passionate about duelling as he was and prettier too.  Pushing thoughts of Gracie Slant from his mind the young Gryfindor rapped the door with his knuckles to announce his arrival.  Being the gentleman he was he would wait for the Headmistress to invite him into the office before barging in, when that invitation did come he pushed the door open slightly and squeezed into the room before shutting it in his wake.

Minerva McGonigle was a legend in the wizarding community, for her deeds at the battle of Hogwarts but even before that.  She had a reputation for fairness but she always looked so stern to Paolo.  He offered her a small smile and a bow of the head before he announced himself “Headmistress, I’m Paolo Rossi.  Thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice; I hope I’m not interrupting anything important that you might have this afternoon.”  As a gentleman he was genuinely hopeful that she was not too busy to deal with him but as the president of the duelling club his motivations for enquiring into her mood were purely selfish.  Rossi needed her to be happy today, willing and open to negotiations.  Don’t let this turn into an embarrassing rejection, he found himself praying.  He had a feeling his devilishly good looks and flirtatious personality were not going to win this old gal round to his point of thinking.  Paolo needed a new approach.

A scattering of voices could be heard muttering throughout the office of the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The feeling in the atmosphere was a bit tense, as three of the previous heads had recently reignited an old feud, and Minerva was tempted to silence the portraits on more than one occasion. As it was, the headmistress sat quietly behind the ancient desk, quill nib scribbling furiously across a sheet of parchment.

Her concentration was focused solely on the correspondence before her and it was easy to tune out the voices around her. A frown distorted her features as she brought her quill to the parchment again. Her speed increased, sending flecks of ink all over the paper. A knock sounded at the door, pulling Minerva out of her revere. She took a quick moment to look at the time and let out an audible sigh. She’d completely forgotten about setting up a meeting with one of the students.

“Enter,” She called out, loud enough to be heard through the thick oak door. When the boy entered the room, Minerva attempted to arrange her features into a more pleasing demeanor – which only partially worked. She offered the boy a small nod and with a flourish of her quill, signed her name to the bottom of the letter, then placed the quill softly upon the desk.

“Thank you for your consideration, Mr. Rossi. Have a seat,” She said, waving an arm to one of the high backed chairs behind the desk for visitors. One of the portraits behind her head snickered, and Minerva took a quick moment to glare at the frame before meeting Paolo’s eyes again. The portrait made no more noise.

Grabbing her wand, Minerva pointed toward the fireplace, setting the kettle on to boil and saying, “Now, Mr. Rossi, for what reason did you ask to meet with me?”