Dolores Umbridge is only a fractional example of the stress under which today's educators work. This work of fanfiction is based on true events that happened to my teacher friends. As I listened to their stories, I wondered how the staff at Hogwarts would handle such situations.

Not only do I not own the world of Harry Potter, but I also changed the story line to suit me. This little satire is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

Educational Decrees Ad Nauseum

Chapter 1 - Professional Instrument for Schoolteacher Success

September 1995

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.

"Ahem?" Dolores Umbridge cleared her throat.

Dumbledore smiled gently at the Ministry-gifted professor. "Just one moment, Professor Umbridge," he said.

Her thin lips tightened into a patent smile, and she dipped her head in a slight nod.

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.

"This isn't a formal meeting," Albus paused and smiled again at the newest professor. "I'd just like to see how the first week went. We'll start with the Heads of House as always." He motioned for Pomona Sprout to begin. "Any problems or concerns?"

Professor Pomona Sprout smiled cheerfully. "No real problems here, Albus," she said. "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, the professor for Care of Magical Creatures, spoke up. "I've got ya covered there, P'fessor Sprout," he said with a brisk nod. "Started a compost pile this past spring with some nice hippogriff droppings. It should be ready fairly soon."

Dumbledore nodded. "And 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. "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, antagonistic, obnoxious, and dim-witted."

The good-natured Gryffindor-Slytherin feud was a long-standing institution at Hogwarts, and Severus' opening attack was met by an assortment of reactions. There was a delicate cough, hiding sympathetic laughter; a raised eyebrow at his audacity; a withering glare of shocked outrage, and Rolanda Hooch's outright laugh. Umbridge gave a sigh of long-suffering impatience.

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, hoping to end the Gryffindor-Slytherin feud before it began in earnest.

"Is there anything else?" Albus asked.

"Ahem," the Defense professor cleared her throat.

But the Astronomy professor beat her to the punch. Aurora Sinistra spoke up, "Headmaster, is it possible for the school to purchase some Muggle torches?" She nodded towards Charity Burbage. "Charity told me about the devices, and they would certainly make it easier for students to make their way about in the dark. Some of our first years don't master lumos until much later in the year, and it would save several bruises, bumps, and broken limbs."

"Here, here," Madam Pomfrey agreed.

"A clever idea," Albus agreed. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid there is no money in the budget to accommodate your request."

Aurora Sinistra frowned slightly. "Charity," she asked, twisting in her seat to speak with her co-worker, "how much do you think these torches would cost?"

"They shouldn't be too much," Burbage said cheerily. "I can pick some up in Glasgow this weekend. They'll come in handy for Muggle Studies, too."

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

"I'll chip in a few galleons as well. If anyone else is willing, just let Charity know," Dumbledore agreed. "Rolanda? Any concerns?"

"Ahem." Dolores cleared her throat a bit more insistently, but she was overruled by Rolanda Hooch's booming voice.

The 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."

"What a polite way of saying the students have been complaining that I am biased in my calls," Severus remarked briskly. "No matter, I'd be thrilled to be excused from yet another thankless task." Everyone smiled, knowing the Potions Master was not really offended.

"And it just so happened," Hooch continued, a big smile on her face, "that I ran into Gwenog Jones recently, and she said she could send a couple of the Harpies as guests to referee our matches - if we wanted."

"It would also give the Harpies some free publicity," Aurora Sinistra amended.

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 slid 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. "Thank you, Severus. Does anyone need anything else?"

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

None of the other staff members said a word, knowing from long experience that silence is golden. Silence also allows one to fly smoothly under the radar, and that helps end staff meetings quickly.

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

"Ahem!" This time Dolores Umbridge's throat clearing sounded like a bleating calf. "Ahem!"

Albus paused, his hind end 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 at this time, 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 long nose.

She stood, clearly intending to hi-jack the meeting. "I know," she told him with a slight giggle. "It's a brand-new development which I have been authorized to explain to you." 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 bewildered staff member had unrolled the three hundred and fifty-eight-page scroll. "Now, this handout will explain your new evaluation process in detail; however, I will personally be reviewing this new procedure for you during this meeting."

"Handout?" Charity Burbage exclaimed. "This is thicker than the last novel I read!"

Umbridge shot her a dirty look before continuing. "This year, each of you will be evaluated on three separate components, which are further explained in this handout." She emphasized the word. With a wave of her wand, a chalkboard materialized behind her, followed by 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 Classroom Rigor 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.

Aurora Sinistra raised an eyebrow and smirked causing Septima Vector to giggle. Dumbledore cleared his throat and gave Severus a sharp look over the top of this half-moon glasses.

Umbridge plowed on determinedly with her explanation as if she hadn't heard them. "Your C.R.A.P.S. score consists of twelve standards: academic knowledge, magical lesson planning, teaching strategies, classroom management, testing, wand usage, textbook usage, 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 exceeds the requisite academic standards to teach his or her assigned subject. Professor Hooch, for example, played professional quidditch, 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.

Filius Flitwick dropped his scroll on the table. "I think this is more than a little insulting." He 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, Flitwick," 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' section," she quipped.

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

"Good idea, 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. When she spoke again, it was in 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, more importantly, 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," Septima Vector 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 you get any 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 not only attend meetings and workshops designed to make them a leader and a better teacher, but they also create opportunities to present those findings to their peers. They -"

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

"Furthermore," Dolores said, raising her voice and shooting a hateful glare at the Ancient Runes teacher, "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, and then again every semester."

"That's impossible!" cried Septima Vector. "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 Irma Pince. "You can't ask Poppy, Argus, and me 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 tipped her nose up as she called out firmly. She turned, directing 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." With a supercilious sniff, she added, "Minister Fudge and I have determined that it can be done."

"Dolores," Albus Dumbledore said with great restraint, "this is at best a scheduling nightmare and -"

"No, no, Albus," Filius piped up, "it can be done. It will be quite difficult, but - " The ever-helpful Ravenclaw couldn't pass up the challenge of a puzzle. He looked up from the parchment on which he was furiously scribbling and handed it to Minerva. "Please double check this, Minerva, but I think if we stick to a really tight schedule, we might just complete the meetings in time."

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." She shook her head insistently, "But it will -"

"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, raising her voice, cut her off, "it will mean that every one of us will have to extend our weekly hours. We'll be working from 8:00AM through 9:00PM or later every day, as well as all weekends through the end of the month." She passed the parchment along to the Headmaster.

"The weekends are the only times we can meet with Muggle parents," Filius stated quietly.

"Someone will have to draft a letter and send out owls to all the parents," Minerva added grimly, knowing the job would fall on her shoulders.

"I'll help," the Muggle Studies professor said quietly. "Perhaps we can find somewhere in Hogsmeade to meet with them."

"What will we do if the parents aren't able to meet at their given time?" asked the Ancient Runes teacher. She shook her head. "It's hard enough to get some of them to meet at the best of times."

Dolores pinched her lips together and huffed. "Surely, intelligent people like yourself can figure this out," she stated bluntly. "If a parent misses an appointment, Professor Filius will just reschedule them."

"I would like to know what additional compensation we can expect for the extra hours of work? The giving up of all 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 further 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." Ignoring the collective grumblings, she then faced the group. "Really, this moaning and complaining will get you nowhere," she added. "It will only make this meeting drag out further. As I stated, there are further requirements that we need to discuss."

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

Dolores glared at Hooch. "The P. I. S. S. system is made up of three parts," she explained condescendingly. "I've already told you, so apparently you weren't listening, Madam Hooch. 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- "

Knowing exactly what his surly potions master was going to say, Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, cutting Severus off. He coughed again, louder than before for good measure. "I'm sorry, Dolores," he said with a plastered smile. "You were saying?"

A momentary look of irritation flitted across her countenance, but she 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 evaluate all of his professors, and student 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. "Did you say 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. Neither I nor any of my staff have a problem with a qualified, objective expert coming in to observe our performances. 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. "Three is a most potent number!" She wrung her hands; her bangles and beads clattered together 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, or A.S.S."

"Do you mean to tell me, Dolores Umbridge," Minerva McGonagall demanded, her green eyes aflame, "that our professional abilities will be based on student test scores?"

"Well, of course!" Umbridge snapped in reply. She thrust her pudgy fists on her even pudgier 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 a pseudo-smile full of teeth at the Transfiguration teacher.

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 is doing a good job. 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 Minister Fudge. However, these procedures will remain in effect for this year." With those last words, she twirled about and flounced from the room, a plump lump of pink and pearls.

Dumbledore sighed loudly and stood slowly. "Well, after that, I'm not sure what to say," 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. Just do the best you can and try not to fret."