The first round of Umbridge's Educational Decrees went up four days later. And no, she had not conferred with the other inquisitors beforehand. It was… a bit much. And definitely outside of the group's legal purview. Some highlights included: banning Quidditch and all clubs, making Umbridge in charge of all detentions, not allowing male and female students within six feet of each other and a very strict dress code for students and staff. Students had to be in their full uniform and robes at all times, shirts tucked in and shoes shined even on the weekends. Boy's hair could not exceed past their ears, and girl's hair had to be 'well-maintained and proper' and fall at least below their ears. She outlawed excessive jewelry, 'unnatural' piercings and hair colors. It was, as should be to no one's surprise - extremely outdated. It was obvious that Umbridge hated fun. She could argue about safety and propriety all she wished, every person at the school hated her now.
Still, it was deemed an unfortunate necessity to keep Umbridge out of the way while the other adults discussed more important changes to Hogwarts. It was best not to confront the woman about her choices. The children would be unhappy, sure, but these were small sacrifices that could be made to keep Hogwarts the premier magical school in London. Was it fair? No. But was there much the other three of their group were willing to do about the rules? No. There had been a standing ovation at the news of Professor Binns' retirement, and if the children wanted their education to be improved, they would have to suffer through the less popular parts as well.
And the students were in an uproar. The Gryffidors had teamed up with the Slytherins to protest the Quidditch ban, earning no less than sixty students in detention.
Alabasandria, of course, having received her copy of the new rules directly by owl, went ahead and showed up to breakfast in her usual kit. As much as she did not appreciate someone as annoying and frustrating as Umbridge, it was not in her best interest to start a feud with a Ministry worker, of all people. There was nothing she hated more than governments trying to tell her that necromancy was wrong and evil and she was going to jail, again, and all that nonsense. She would prefer to not be discovered at least until Harry completed his education. No, she would ignore Madame Umbridge all she could, but that did not mean she would follow her dress code.
Most of the other Professors had begrudgingly shown up in their Sunday best. Hagrid had on a bizarre three-piece suit that appeared to be made entirely of beaver. It was hard to tell where his beard started and his blazer ended. He gave her a friendly grin as always and over the meal they discussed a joint venture between their classes to teach the students how to harvest jobberknoll feathers in the Forbidden Forest.
"Ms. Adams, do you mind substituting for Mr. Lupin's afternoon classes, I'm afraid he's fallen ill again," Dumbledore asked, also vibing with the new dress code in formal robes of various shades of orange. He resembled a muggle construction worker in their high-visibility safety jackets. Alabasandria agreed to his request, though she didn't know too much about the defense part of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Alright, what was he teaching you," she asked the DADA third years later that day. She thumbed through the man's lesson notes. "Dark creatures, huh? That's an easy one, you spend a whole year on this? Burn them. Fire is always your best bet. If that doesn't work, vanish it. If that doesn't work, cutting curse to the heart. If that doesn't work, conjure a silver weapon and stab it in the heart. There, that covers all of them."
The children floundered for a moment before beginning to frantically write everything down.
"Does that work on Dementors?" a student asked. "What about vampires?"
"Yup, fire. Lots of fire though, mind you. But it will work. Fire and silver are most Dark creatures' weak points. Something about their cold, unfeeling hearts or something like that. Lupin ever asks you a question and you don't know the answer, you tell him what I just said and he won't be able to complain."
"You can't conjure precious metals, professor," Malfoy argued. "That goes against Merlin's Fourth Theory of Alchemy."
"Well that's why it's a theory, isn't it? I suppose schoolchildren can't conjure precious metals, sure, but it's not that hard. Just carry a knife on you, then."
She put her hands under the table and discretely traced a bloody sigil on the underside. A pile of silver daggers appeared on the desk with a loud clatter. "See? Not that hard."
And that was how she ended up teaching a bunch of thirteen-year-olds how to wield a knife and how to cast incendio maxima, a fire-summoning spell that was barely legal and usually meant for seventh years.
Remus had not been pleased when on their next test, almost every student had written down "stab it with fire" for every question. He had been less pleased when they all accosted the silver-fearing werewolf with knives and offered to show him that they all did in fact know how to stab things with fire.
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