Teaching Umbridge

by Miss Shannon

Chapter One - The Bet

Hogwarts Castle was a wondrous place that held many secrets and memories, having hosted the youth of the British wizarding community for hundreds of years. Its grounds were vast and ranged from rich green slopes to cumbersome terrain. There was the large forest that remained mysterious to most occupants of the castle as not everyone had paid as many visits to it as Harry Potter and his friends- it was – sometimes ironically – called the Forbidden Forest for a reason.

And then there was the large shimmering lake that, if one regarded it from its shores, seemed to melt into the sky in the distance, stretching out far between the mountains. Hogwarts was home not only to the students and teachers: There were ghosts, a hazardous Whomping Willow, gigantic spiders, centaurs, an army of owls and several cats. For a while, it had even held a mass murderer, disguised as a pet rat. For all the formidable things that could be discovered inside the walls of Hogwarts Castle, one might think that there was really nothing that could still upset someone who had been residing there as long as Minerva McGonagall had.

The day was unusually warm for October and the grounds were alight with the golden autumn sun that brought out the green of the leaves and gave the ancient walls a warm glow. Around the grounds, students were basking contently in the sun, looking as if there was not a care in the world. Bodies were stretched out by the lake, bare arms thrown over eyes for shade.

The teachers, however, were staying inside the castle, filing into the abandoned classroom on the second floor one by one. Dust was dancing in the beams of sunlight that was shining in through the crown glass windows and the unruly stacks of ancient textbooks in the far corner of the room gave it a stuffy feel. McGonagall stood with her back against the teacher's desk, her arms folded in front of her chest, waiting for everyone to arrive and settle down.

First was Professor Snape who looked even more indignant than usual. While he usually responded with a great deal of politeness to Minerva's requests, he had curled his lip when she had invited him to join her and the rest of the faculty in a secret meeting. To no avail, he had attempted to turn her down by explaining that he had been planning to enjoy the good weather by the lake. She suspected, however, that it was not the weather but his weekly meeting with Professor Sinistra who Dumbledore had assigned to helping the potion's master with editing the Potions textbook he was working on.

After having complained about the shortcomings of textbooks such as "Advanced Potion Making" to whose instructions he had apparently been making alterations as early as during his own time as a student, Albus had finally convinced Snape to stop whining and do a better job at it. The Potions master had taken the bait and had spent the entire summer break meticulously writing down instructions, riddled with hidden insults to the reader. That and the fact that Snape had written at least a thousand pages – which was far too much to be printed, let alone bought – Dumbledore had convinced Snape that some serious editing was in order. To accomplish that, he had asked – or maybe forced – Professor Sinistra to give Snape some much-needed guidance.

Snape had been livid at first, but lately he seemed oddly mollified. Even though he pretended it was due to the fact that Professor Sinistra had published a rather neat little guide to Astronomy a few years prior and thus was quite accomplished when it came to writing textbooks, Minerva was not fooled. His long and deliberately bored look towards her and Charity Burbage only confirmed what she had been suspecting for a while: He fancied her. If that term actually applied to someone as cold and withdrawn as Severus Snape.

Charity Burbage was approaching sixty and her pointed beige hat sat slightly askew atop her thin blond hair. She was a kind woman who was always a little distracted but generally a good teacher. Sometimes she had problems with discipline in class but the students seemed to like her enough to never go too far. Also, Charity was rarely seen without some obscure muggle artifact or another. Today she was toying with something that looked like two pieces of string with two tiny round objects on each end. Despite the fact that it was black, it looked a little like the Expendable Ears Minerva had confiscated from Fred and George Weasley just this morning.

Aurora Sinistra was about half Charity's age but seemed to be getting along well with her. She was on good terms with everyone despite the fact that she mostly kept to herself. There was nothing truly remarkable about Aurora's appearance when one saw her at a desk, engrossed in a book, as one could usually find her in the faculty lounge. She was slim and of medium height with straight dark-brown hair and pleasant features. Her large dark-blue eyes, however, were what made her special. She nodded towards Snape who gave a barely perceptible nod in return and sat down at one of the desks next to Charity. In the meantime, Snape had taken up staring out of the window with obvious boredom.

Next to arrive were Professors Flitwick and Sprout. While the tiny Charms professor looked a bit harassed, Professor Sprout was her usually jolly self. Minerva wondered whether she still remembered that there was a poppy stuck behind her ear. They both took seats next to Charity and while Sprout struck up a conversation with her, Flitwick climbed his chair and absent-mindedly began to levitate a forgotten chocolate frog that was probably so far past its best before date that the attempt to eat it would likely pose a hazard to one's heath.

The last pair to arrive were Professors Trelawney and Vector, who looked slightly annoyed by her companion. Minerva found it understandable, as the two of them were polar opposites. Trelawney was wrapped in scarves and several bracelets were dangling from both of her arms. Her hair was a bushy mess spilling down her thin back and she was peering at her colleagues through thick, lopsided glasses. Professor Vector was prim-looking, her hair in a strict bun and wearing conservative black robes. She could be reasonably friendly, once you got to know her, but at first glance she looked terrifying. Quickly, she strode over towards Professor Snape who had, for the moment, given up his observation of the cloudless sky and took the seat next to him while Trelawney sat by Professor Sinistra, a fellow tower-dweller. Sinistra smiled and propped her chin up on her hand,, watching Professor Binns float across the room to make himself comfortable on one of the chairs.

"Sorry. First year fell off his broom and broke his arm. Poppy can't make it, I'm sorry." Madame Hooch said in her typical clipped voice and shrugged, her cat-like eyes momentarily lingering on her fellow teachers, then settled down next to Flitwick.

"Now that everyone is assembled," Minerva waved her hand and the door fell closed. "I would like to say a few words."

Having the faculty members sitting at students' desks with her standing in front of them seemed almost comical to Minerva as they seemed to represent the typical types of students that could be found in a class. Snape, deliberately bored, Charity, all alert and interested, Flitwick, a little distracted but smiling kindly and Binns, who was asleep already, snoring slightly.

"I have asked you all to be here today for a special reason."

"It's Albus' birthday again, isn't it?" Hooch groaned. "How old does he turn this year? 300? If this is about another surprise party, I am out. I don't know who made the punch last year, but I personally can't remember much!"

Professor Vector was rolling her eyes at her colleague's indiscretion while Charity was giggling quietly.

"No, Hooch." After all these years, Minerva had hardly got used to calling her by her last name only as Madame Hooch seemed to hate her first name, Rolanda. That was why Snape took great pleasure in greeting her by said first name, stretching each vowel out with emphasis. "It is not about Albus' birthday. That was two months ago and you were not invited."

"What is it then, Minerva?" Snape asked in his typical silky tones, his voice low but commanding attention nonetheless. "I am afraid I do not have all afternoon as I have a book to write."

"Yes, Severus. You're writing a book. We have all taken notice of that and there's no need to repeat it!"

Snape turned towards Professor Vector and narrowed his eyes menacingly. "Is there anything you would like to say to me?"

"Yes. Get off your high horse, Severus."

Snape's eyes were shooting daggers and Minerva decided to intervene. "If you would kindly let me explain..." she hissed. As easily as Minerva dominated a class of students, her natural authority seemed to fail her with her colleagues. Trying to look at them through Umbridge's eyes, she winced. If the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was out to get them, she would.

There was Flitwick, brilliant but once against levitating the chocolate frog that was now hovering just above Hooch's head. Said flying instructor who always got tipsy at parties and never held back when it came to rude comments, Snape, who no one in their right mind would want around children, Trelawney, starry-eyed and completely neurotic, Professor Vector, who rarely managed to keep her sharp tongue in check, Binns, an unnaturally sleepy ghost or Professor Sinistra who was a fine teacher but had once famously bolted from the room when a student had asked for dating advice. Not to mention Charity, who had stuffed her peculiar muggle object into her ears and was swaying from side to side with her eyes closed. Yes, Minerva concluded. If Umbridge was hell-bent on reforming the magical education system, everyone was quite likely to be unemployed, soon. Except maybe for her, she mused but then dismissed the thought. Minerva McGonagall was not one to gloat.

"As you all might be aware of, the newest addition to our staff is intent on making some changes to this school. I may speak for all of you when I say that she is an insufferable, vindictive old hag who uses questionable methods on the students and threatens the peace here at Hogwarts. I suggest we do something against that."

A stunned silence had fallen over the room.

"Do something?" Trelawney echoed incredulously. "I mean, I could..."

"What? Predict her demise? She will be terrified," Snape snarled and earned an appreciative nod from Professor Vector whose throat he had been on only a moment ago.

"What shall we do? The minister is backing her up. How are we supposed to fight her? Not everyone is a brave Gryffindor like yourself, Minerva." Professor Flitwick was weighing his head which was just above the tabletop as the desk was fashioned for wizards and witches of normal size.

"I think Filius is quite right," Charity added, having discarded the muggle artifact for the time being. "It is too dangerous. What if we all loose our jobs?"

"I for one would like the old hag tied to a tree and attacked by centaurs!" Hooch roared. "Whatever your plan is, Minny, count me in."

Professor Sprout's poppy had fallen to the floor and her face was ashen. "I don't know. With You-Know-Who on the rise again and the Ministry oblivious to it, I don't believe we should do anything that distracts us from protecting the children."

Minerva had expected a little more enthusiasm for her idea and looked around for some support. Binns was still snoring, Snape was looking skeptical and Professor Sinistra seemed bewildered and unwilling to contribute.

What a bunch, Minerva thought, shaking her head. How on earth was she going to get through this year with Umbridge on the prowl and passive allies like this? What by Merlin's beard could motivate them to back her up on this? She was sure that she could somehow bully them into tagging along but she needed their creative input as she was not yet sure how exactly to get to Umbridge. Suddenly, she had an idea. It was not honorable and extremely childish but that was how they worked, she tried to console herself. Technically, she was just using psychological warfare against them.

"Then, my dear fellow educators, I propose we make a bet!" she announced.

Another bout of stunned silence greeted her until Sprout spoke with what sounded like quite a bit of intrigue. "A bet?"

She could see that she had their full attention now and was beginning to feel better about herself. Being professors at a prestigious magical school that lay in a lonely place in the mountains, busy with their jobs and always on some sort of duty, the staff was constantly looking for a bit of excitement. That, however, was rarely found. Unlike Hooch, who liked to have a little too much punch than was good for her, most of the teachers were very much willing to preserve a bit of authority. Consequently, they needed a hobby that would both provide a distraction from their jobs and still not draw unwanted attention to them. The problem had existed for centuries and somewhere along the way, someone had set up a secret Hogwarts staff betting pool which had become quite an obsession for most of the teachers.

They placed bets on everything: That Snape would get married within ten years of his taking up teaching at Hogwarts (Snape had won as he had been the only one who had bet against it), that Harry Potter would turn out to be a red head like his mother (Professor Sprout had grinned brightly on Harry's first day, having mistaken a streak of chocolate on top of Ron Weasley's forehead for the famous scar), that Lupin would kill someone in his werewolf-form (Snape had been the one who had placed the bet and no one had found it tasteful to participate), when Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would finally discover that they were fancying each other (only Sprout was still in the running) and so forth.

The most popular bets were the ones that required certain actions to win. Last summer they had made bets on who would get most students through the O.W.L.s, for example. One evening, and Minerva was sure that a fair bit of firewhiskey had been involved, they had bet who was able to make it past Filch and fasten a bow around Mrs Norris' neck - without magic. Most of the bets were stupid und completely useless but although Minerva generally frowned upon that kind of business, sometimes she found herself participating. Snape kept announcing how ridiculous and pathetic they were for taking pleasure in such childish things, but not even he could deny that obsession had turned into addiction.

Minerva knew that they would be unable to resist.

"A bet?" Sinistra echoed.

"I bet you that I will be able to drive Dolores Umbridge out of Hogwarts before the end of the school year. If someone beats me to it, they win."

Her colleagues' eyes had grown huge and excited.

"What's the wager?" Vector asked.

Minerva grinned, aware of the fact that she had them right where she wanted them.

"Dinner at the Three Broomsticks for two, all inclusive. What do you think?"

She knew it wasn't important what exactly was at stake as long as they had a bet going.

"That sounds reasonable," Snape said.

"Perfectly so!" Flitwick beamed.

"I'm in."

"And me, too."

Minerva smirked.

"Then let the fun begin."

- to be continued -