I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter.

This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

I borrowed heavily from this website: as well as several websites documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

CHAPTER 1 - "When I think back on all the crap . . . it's a wonder I can think at all."

Sept. 8, 1995 - Professional Instrument for Schoolteacher Success

Albus Dumbledore smiled at his staff as they gathered around the staff room table. "Do come in," he urged them. "I know you're tired and quite ready for your first weekend, so I'll be as brief as possible." He paused, allowing them to be seated.

McGonagall dipped her quill in the inkwell and poised her hand just above the clean stack of fresh parchment lying on the table in front of her. She glanced up at the Headmaster. "Whenever you're ready, Albus," she said.

With a small smile at his deputy headmistress, he sat down. "Very quickly then," he addressed the professors, "I'd just like to see how your first week went. Any problems or concerns?"

Professor Sprout spoke up. "No problems here, Albus," she said. "Oh, there are always a few homesick first years. Happens every year, you know." Her shoulders shook as she chuckled, then she grew serious. "I am short on fertilizer for my greenhouses, though."

Rubeus Hagrid spoke up. "I've got ya covered there, P'fessor Sprout," he said with a brisk nod. "Started a manure compost pile this spring. It should be ready fairly soon."

Dumbledore nodded. "And how are the rest of the houses?"

"I've had one homesick first year, but she's much better now. A biscuit, a cup of tea, and the tears were all gone," Minerva said told them. "All my Gryffindors are just fine."

"Oh, is that what you call them? Fine?" Severus drawled, deliberately trying to rile the older witch. "The rest of us call them loud, aggressive, obnoxious, and dim-witted." Laughter rang around the room.

Minerva, as he had intended, was reduced to sputtering like a cat while he merely grinned nonchalantly and continued. "My Slytherins, on the other hand, are quiet and adjusting well to life at Hogwarts."

"As are the Ravenclaws," Filius Flitwick stated quickly.

"Is there anything else?" Albus asked.

Aurora Sinistra said, "Headmaster, I would like to purchase some Muggle torches. Charity was telling me about them." She nodded towards Charity Burbage. "I believe it would be easier for the students to make their way about in the dark with them. Some of the younger ones do not master lumos until much later in the year."

Albus smiled genuinely. "A clever idea," he told Sinistra. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid there is no more money in the budget to accommodate your request." His smile drooped.

"Charity," Sinistra twisted in her seat to speak with her friend, "how much do you think these torches would cost?"

"Oh, they shouldn't be too much, I should think," Burbage said cheerily. "I can pick some up in Glasgow this weekend."

Sinistra nodded. "If you'll do that, I'll split the cost with you."

"Fine," Dumbledore replied. "Rolanda? Any concerns?"

Rolanda Hooch, flying instructor, frowned in concentration. "Nothing I can think of," she said slowly. "Oh! Wait, yes, there is." She sat up suddenly. "I'm going to need another referee for quidditch this year. I think we ought to give Severus a break. He's got an awful lot on his plate right now."

"What a polite way of saying the students have been complaining that I am biased in my calls," Severus purred, a near smile on his face. Everyone chuckled, knowing the Potions Master was joking and not at all offended by the charge.

"Well," Hooch continued, a big smile on her face, "I ran into Gwenog Jones recently, and she said she could send a couple of the Harpies to guest referee our matches - if we wanted."

"It would also give the Harpies some free publicity," Aurora Sinistra added sotto voce.

Albus nodded and ran a hand over his long beard. "Yes, that should do nicely, Rolanda. Please thank Ms. Jones for us when you accept her kind offer. I'll leave all the details to you, then."

"Speaking of quidditch," Poppy Pomfrey commented, "I could use a few more potions in the hospital wing." She passed a parchment across the table to the Headmaster. "I'll need skelegro, pain potion, dreamless sleep, bruise paste, the usual."

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked and was rewarded by a quick nod of the potion master's head. The Headmaster passed him the parchment.

"Miss Granger can help with the brewing," Minerva asserted. "The girl needs to keep busy."

She stared at Severus, who frowned and clenched his teeth. A moment later, he relented and nodded his agreement. "I'll need a few more basic ingredients," Severus said softly. "I can purchase them tomorrow in Hogsmeade."

"Then you can take Miss Granger with you," McGonagall told him. "The girl can help."

"Minerva," Snape replied, "contrary to the basic facts necessitated by the lack of intellectual capabilities of our current lot of first year so-called students, I am not a babysitter." He paused to allow that to sink in. "However, as Miss Granger is slightly above the average deplorable lack of what passes for intelligence around this school, I will allow her to accompany me."

"I, too, think the girl is quite academically advanced and would benefit from further one-on-one instruction," the Headmaster said aloud, hiding a smile. "Thank you, Severus, for volunteering to tutor the girl. Does anyone need anything else?"

"Just chalk and children," Bathsheda Babbling, the Ancient Runes teacher, responded. "Just chalk and children."

"Very well," Albus said. He began to rise from his chair. "I declare this meeting to be o- "

"Ahem," Dolores Umbridge cleared her throat. "Ahem."

Albus paused with his butt hovering a bare three inches above his cushioned seat. Slowly he lowered himself back down. "Yes, Dolores," he inquired carefully, "is there something you need?"

"Not precisely speaking," she said with a simpering grin, "but I would like to share with you all the Ministry's new teacher evaluation process."

Albus frowned as did the rest of the staff. "I'm afraid," he said slowly, "that I am unaware of any Ministry evaluation process." He took off his glasses and wiped them clean on his sleeve before resettling them on his nose.

She stood, clearly intending to hi-jack the meeting. "I know," she told him. "It's a brand new development which I am supposed to explain to you all." She waved her wand, and several large rolls of parchment appeared on the table. "You'll each need to take a scroll," she instructed them, "and sign here to prove you have participated in the orientation training." She passed around a sheet of parchment that each of them duly signed.

"Please follow along with me as I explain the process," she told them succinctly. She waited until each staff member had unrolled the three hundred and fifty-eight page scroll. "Now, this pamphlet will explain the process in detail; however, I will personally be reviewing the evaluation process for you all during this meeting."

"Pamphlet?" Charity Burbage exclaimed. "This is bigger than the last novel I read!"

Umbridge shot her a dirty look before continuing. "You will all be evaluated on three separate components, which are further explained in this pamphlet." She emphasized the word for Charity's benefit, and with a wave of her wand a chalkboard materialized behind her. Another swish and flick of her wand formed the following words: P - Professional; I - Instrument for; S - School teacher; S- Success.

She then settled into her lecture. "You will be evaluated based on the new Ministry P. I. S. S. system, and there are three separate components to it. The first component is called the Class Room Assessment on Performance Standards. Your C.R.A.P.S. score will be based on actual observations of your teaching."

"Did she just say 'piss' and 'craps'?" muttered Severus.

Umbridge continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Your C.R.A.P.S. score consists of twelve standards: academic knowledge, magical lesson planning, teaching strategies, classroom management, testing, wand uses, textbook uses, positive learning environment, academically challenging environment, professionalism, loyalty to the Ministry, and communication."

"Dolores, I can personally vouch for all of my teachers," Albus said, clearly offended. "Each and every one of them has more than the requisite academic knowledge to teach his or her assigned subject. Rolanda, here, was a professional quidditch player, and Severus hold a Masters -"

She cut him off. "Yes, I'm sure they will all score well in that category," she said primly, brushing off his concerns.

Septima Vector dropped her scroll on the table. "I think this is a bit insulting if you want to know the truth." She pointed to the performance standards. "Any teacher worthy of the name creates academically challenging lesson plans! And we all know students learn in different ways."

"I'm so glad you agree with the Ministry, Septima," Umbridge shot back triumphantly. "A good teacher will know those things, and if you are a good teacher, it will show up in the C. R. A. P. S. section of your P. I. S. S. results."

Minerva laughed. "Well, Severus, I'm sure you'll fail the 'positive learning environment' part of your CRAPS and PISS results," she quipped.

Stony faced, he turned to her. "Ask me if I care," he intoned solemnly.

"Good question, Severus," Hooch commented. "So, Dolores, what happens if we don't pass your CRAPS and PISS test?"

"It's C. R. A. P. S. and P. I. S. S!" hissed Umbridge, her face turning a very uncomplimentary shade of mauve. "And it's not my test, it's the Ministry's!" She paused, her chest heaving in anger. Then, she took a deep breath, controlled her breathing, and calmed down. When she spoke again, it was with a saccharinely sweet voice. "And to answer your question, you'll be terminated if you have low P. I. S. S. scores two years in a row."

"And how are we to be scored?" inquired Sinistra, her voice tinged with suspicion. "And who will be grading us for that matter?"

Dolores turned to face Aurora with her best imitation of a happy expression. "I am so glad you asked that, Aurora," she replied pleasantly. "On the C. R. A. P. S. section, you will receive a score of one through four in each of the twelve categories. A score of one indicates that you are unsuccessful. A score of two indicates that you need additional help in that category. A score of three indicates an acceptable performance. A score of four indicates that you are outstanding in that category."

"You still haven't told us who is to be conducting our evaluations," Sinistra reminded her.

"You will be graded by a professional who has already received outstanding ratings from the Ministry," she smiled toothily at them. "And, before anyone gets his or her feelings hurt, let me tell you that hardly no one -"

"Anyone," murmured Sinistra.

"- achieves a rating of four. Outstanding teachers spend their time investigating new methods with a goal towards improving pedagogical knowledge. They go above and beyond the call of duty. They attend meetings and workshops designed to make them a better teacher. They create opportunities to present those findings to their peers. They -"

"Are apparently never in their own classrooms," Burbage blurted out, finishing Umbridge's sentence.

"Furthermore," Dolores said, raising her voice and shooting a hateful glare at Burbage, "you will all be required to meet with each and every parent of each and every student you teach before the end of the month."

"That's impossible!" cried Babbling. "Dolores, do you have any idea how many students we have here at Hogwarts?"

"And who will be watching the students while we are meeting with parents?" asked Pomona Sprout. "You can't ask Poppy, Argus, and Irma to watch all the children alone!"

Burbage added her outrage to the fray. "What about the Muggle parents?" she demanded. "They can't come to Hogwarts. How are we supposed to meet with them?"

"Dumbledore," Dolores Umbridge called out firmly. She turned and directed her next remarks solely to him. "Not only does the Ministry insist that these meetings take place within the specified time frame, but also they are to be documented in triplicate on these official forms -" She flicked her wand, and a huge stack of multi-colored parchments appeared on the table. "- with the signatures of parents, teachers, and students," she said with a sniff. "Cornelius and I have determined that it can be done."

"Dolores," Albus Dumbledore said with great restraint, "I must state that this is a scheduling nightmare."

"No, no, Albus," Filius piped up, "there is a way it can be done." He looked up from the parchment on which he was furiously scribbling and handed it to Minerva. "Please double check me on this, Minerva."

Twin frown lines appeared between McGonagall's eyes as she examined the parchment. Nodding, she peered at Dumbledore through her glasses. "This schedule will work, Albus, but -"

"There!" crowed Umbridge. "It was just a matter of being positive." She beamed. "Now, let us discuss the next component of the evaluation process -"

"But," McGonagall cut her off, "it will mean that everyone of us will be on duty every weekend of this month." She passed the parchment along to the Headmaster.

"And," Filius interjected, "someone will have to coordinate with all the Muggle parents to make sure they can attend."

"What compensation can we expect for giving up all of our weekends for an entire month?" asked Aurora Sinistra. Arching an elegant brow, she folded her arms across her chest. "Surely, you don't expect us to put in extra hours of work without extra reimbursement."

Umbridge sniffed and turned ice cold eyes on her. "You are a salaried employee," she informed the Astronomy professor arrogantly, "and you will put in whatever time it takes to complete your job." She turned, ignoring the collective grumblings, and faced the group. "As I stated, there are further requirements that we need to discuss."

"More PISS?" Hooch asked with a straight face.

"The P. I. S. S. system is made up of three parts," she explained in a haughty tone, "as I've already told you. Perhaps you should listen, Rolanda. The C. R. A. P. S. component only counts fifty percent of your overall P. I. S. S. evaluation. The second component counts twenty percent."

"Let me guess," Snape drawled with contempt. "This second component is called shi- "

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. He coughed a couple of time as well. "I'm sorry, Dolores," he said with a plastered smile. "You were saying?"

A momentary look or irritation flitted across her countenance, but she quickly halted it, batted her eyelashes outrageously, and carried on. "The second component, counting twenty percent of your overall score, is your Student Led Assessment of Professors," she said brightly, "or your S. L. A. P. score for short." She clasped her hands together in front of her in an angelic pose. "Each student will be asked to evaluate his or her professors, and their evaluations will make up a portion of your overall P. I. S. S. results."

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" Severus asked with deadly, deliberate calm. "I thought you said that the children would be grading us."

"Yes, of course," she chirped. "Students spend more time in the classrooms than any observer possibly could, so their opinions should count."

Absolute chaos broke loose and galloped around the room like one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. "Dolores," Dumbledore spoke loudly and clearly. He had abandoned the eccentric grandfatherly image completely. "This is ridiculous. I have no problem, and I'm sure I can speak for my staff as well, with a qualified, objective expert in a given discipline of study coming in to observe the performance of my teachers. Nor do I have any qualms with my teachers being held accountable for their classroom abilities. However, I see no legitimate reason for allowing children to evaluate adults."

"I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about it, Albus," she said smugly. "It is a Ministry decision." She shuffled the parchments before her, trying to dodge the deadly glares and stares aimed at her.

"You said there were three components," Trelawney whispered tremulously. She wrung her hands; her bangles and beads tinkled loudly in the cold silence of the room.

"Oh, yes," Dolores replied. She tossed her head in a high-handed manner. "The last thirty percent of your overall P. I. S. S. score is based on the Assessment of Student Scores."

"Do you mean to tell me, Dolores Umbridge," Minerva McGonagall demanded, her green eyes aflame, "that we will be held accountable for student test scores?"

"Well, of course!" Umbridge snapped in reply. She thrust her fists on her hips. "If you're doing your job properly, then all of your students should pass their O. W. L. and N. E. W. T. tests," she asserted. "And then your A. S. S. results will be covered, so you'll have nothing to worry about." She flashed her most charming smile.

Severus slapped both of his hands down on the table and opened his mouth, but Filius Flitwick forestalled him. "Madam Umbridge," he said as reasonably as possible, "the Ministry is proceeding from a false premise. A poorly scoring student is not necessarily indicative of a poorly performing teacher. There are a multitude of factors that may prevent a student from performing well. Impediments such as test anxiety, lack of effort or ability on the student's part, family problems, maturity levels, and or emotional issues are just a few."

"And the reverse of that is also true," Vector insisted. "Just because a student scores well does not mean that his or her teacher does a good job." She waved her hand in the air. "Take Miss Hermione Granger for example. Because she is highly self-motivated, she will do her best and no doubt out-score the rest of the school regardless of any teacher input."

Dolores Umbridge sniffed, pinched her lips together, and tapped her foot. "You might have a slight point. I will discuss the matter with Cornelius. However, things will remain in place for this year." She those last words, she twirled about and flounced from the room, a plump lump of pink and pearls.

Dumbledore sighed loudly and stood slowly. "I am unsure exactly how to follow that," he declared bluntly. "I will do my best to speak with the School Board to see what can be done to mitigate these - challenging - work conditions. Please do your best not to fret and enjoy your weekend."

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This chapter's title comes from Paul Simon's "Kodachrome."