Author's Note: This was half inspired by real life events and quotations from a school campus. It would just be more fun to stick the situation into the Hogwarts world. This is humor. Happy reading everyone. (Rating for language.)

Staff Meeting

The evening meal at Hogwarts was winding down, but Headmaster Dumbledore looked very aggravated. The desserts were all practically consumed and the students started to trickle out of the Great Hall as they headed to wherever their destinations lay. By the time more and more students started to get up to leave, Dumbledore looked left and right at the staff table. When he saw that the staff had mostly finished their meals, he decided that the time had come to make an announcement.

"I'd like to call a meeting with the executive staff."

All of the professors and other staff members reacted in their own way with displeasure, ranging from eye rolling to outward loud groans to heads dropping to their chests.

Dumbledore simply smiled as though he'd just proclaimed something that would be considered good news. There was only one professor who seemed to think that a staff meeting was a good thing – Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. He was the only professor who was beaming about the prospect. Perhaps he could brag about something that another witch or wizard accomplished…just attaching his name to it.

"I think we should have it in the Library. The Conference Room would be a good size." Then, he simply left the table and headed out of the Great Hall. He knew that the rest of the staff would make their way to the Library soon enough. He was prepared to give them plenty of time in which to get there.

Dumbledore made his way up to his office and took his time, stopping every so often to have a short conversation with a painting or two. He polished a piece of a suit of armor that was spotless. He got into his office and tickled Fawkes under the chin for a few minutes to waste some more time. Then, he spent another few minutes reorganizing his desk, arranging the stack of pages on it to make one tidy little pile which he was going to distribute to the professors. All while he was doing this, he worked out what he was going to say to his staff.

Then, he heard the clock chime merrily and he realized that he had wasted almost thirty minutes. Dumbledore hurried out of his office almost tripping over his robes on the way out. He hurried to the Library as though a rabid thestral was in pursuit of him. By the time he reached the Library, all of the staff members were gathered in the Conference Room and growing more impatient by the second waiting for his arrival. All Dumbledore had time to take in was Snape doodling on a piece of parchment with a quill in boredom before he began his speech.

"The portraits have been kind enough to inform me that there has been a serious lack of professionalism in the classrooms recently."

Before he could go on, Lockhart sprung from his chair. "Well!" he huffed. "I know that I've always maintained a high standard of politeness and professionalism. Because, that's what I am, professional – in or out of my classroom!" He then laughed through his perfectly white teeth as he flashed his most charming smile at everyone around the long table. McGonagall blinked her eyes at him, trying to hold back a laugh or eye-roll. Snape's doodling increased in ferocity at Lockhart's outburst.

Dumbledore just stared for a moment before continuing. "Thank you, Professor Lockhart, for that…insight." He waited until Lockhart happily nodded and then parked himself down again. "As I was saying, staff, there have been reports of unprofessionalism in the classrooms, particularly pertaining to language. I've spent the last few weeks questioning all of the portraits and the suits of armor—"

"Headmaster," interrupted Snape. "Suits of armor cannot…talk."

Dumbledore looked at Snape with a dead-panned expression. "They can nod or shake their heads if they get questions in a yes or no format, Professor Snape."

Snape was not one to back down from a challenge. "I must point out, sir, that suits of armor also do not have…heads really. Would it not be better to say that they have—"

"The proper word to describe sections of a suit of armor is not relevant to this meeting!" shouted McGonagall.

Snape spread his hands in a silent plea of defense. "I was under the impression that this meeting was called in order to go over which words are or are not permissible for usage in the classroom setting. If we're going to be discussing the proper places for certain words then perhaps we should start by possibly being—" He swung his head to look at Dumbledore again, doing his best to glare meaningfully at the ancient man. "—a bit more precise on our language and word choices."

"That's very nice, professor, but may I continue please?"

Snape flung himself back in his chair, unintentionally rocking it precariously on the back two legs before it came forward on all four again. "If you feel you must."

"Oh, thank you for your permission, Professor Snape," quipped McGonagall. Snape's lips twitched in a sarcastic grin for a moment before returning to his typical scowl.

Dumbledore resumed his speech. "Now the ghosts have informed me that while they were wandering down the Slytherin area corridors they heard you, Professor Snape, giving a scolding to a seventh year student of such a degree that it would make…oh how did Nick put it?" Dumbledore touched his fingers to his temple for a moment, dramatically looking like he was focusing very hard. "Oh yes. That would make even a dragon want to weep then burn its tears away with it's own fire-breaths."

"That is impressive," piped up professor Flitwick next to Snape.

"What exactly did you say?" asked Professor Sprout.

"He said," said Dumbledore loudly to bring the attention back to himself. He waited until all of the staff members were focused on him until he opened his mouth to talk. Only to be interrupted by Lockhart.

"Surely he didn't say You-Know-Who's real name!"

"No, no, Gilderoy. Worse. Much worse." Again, he waited for everyone in the Conference Room to become silent and wait for him to speak. He waited until it was so quiet it was like he was announcing something as momentous as Voldemort rising from the dead. "He said…'fuck.'"

The room was silent for a split second before suddenly, in a flash of lilac purple robes swirling everywhere and a heavy chair being knocked backwards onto the floor. Gilderoy Lockhart now stood disheveled and sputtering as though he were personally offended by Dumbledore's statement. "Well!" he shouted. It was the only word he managed for several moments. "I for one would never say f…oul language like that, Headmaster, I hope you know! I wouldn't even say the word! I would talk about it." He jabbed his finger at Dumbledore. "But only when it became completely unavoidable!"

"Oh, please, Lockhart! You wouldn't even say the word 'sex' in your classroom, would you?" droned Snape from his chair.

"Certainly not!" Lockhart exclaimed. "I would say something like…um…'consummate the relationship' or…or…'have relations with one another.' Something like that."

Snape rolled his eyes and looked at Dumbledore. "Is this really necessary?"

"I'm afraid so, Professor Snape." Then, Dumbledore looked out at the rest of the gathered staff. "Now then. The bottom line of all of this is that foul language like that needs to be contained. I personally am unconcerned if you decide to release all of the foul language you amass throughout the day while in the comfort of your own homes or quarters. But while you are in classes, student to teacher meetings, House meetings, at meals, in the corridors, or strolling around the school grounds you will not utter one single expletive! Is that understood?" Everyone nodded.

"Now then," said Dumbledore as he reached forward for something only to discover the item's absence. He began to look around as he continued speaking. "After consulting with the…" He looked to the left of his chair. "With the portraits in my office…" He looked to the right of his chair. He apparently did not find what he was looking for, so he stood up to look behind his chair. "I've decided that a worksheet was in order for everyone on the staff to fill out so that we can see who needs counseling or what muggles call anger management sessions." Suddenly, Dumbledore disappeared underneath the table. Everyone else at the table simultaneously realized that he must have been searching for the worksheets that he had just mentioned.

From under the table they heard a very quiet and muffled, "Shit! Damnit!" A moment later, Dumbledore emerged into everyone's view and announced, "I seem to have forgotten the worksheets," as he straightened his robes.

"Albus!" exclaimed McGonagall. "You just…You just said—"

"Shit!" shouted Sprout, her expression shocked.

"And 'damnit,'" squeaked Flitwick, almost as though he were surprised he repeated it.

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "I most certainly did not."

Snape looked disbelievingly and challengingly at Dumbledore. "We all heard you." The entire Conference Room grew quiet. No one seemed very sure of what to do. Then, Snape continued. "The way I understand this, by the Headmaster's use of an expletive he has now established himself as a beacon of hypocrisy in his entire stance on the issue of foul language usage in this school. Therefore, this meeting is moronic and rubbish and I for one am not about to be lectured on the matter from someone who commits the same acts as – at least – myself, nor allow myself to be forced into filling out a pointless worksheet on this non-issue." With that, Snape stood as gracefully as steam rising from the boiling liquids of a cauldron and strode towards the door of the library.

McGonagall watched his exit dumbfounded. "Does that make this entire meeting's discussion null and void?"

Leaping from his chair, Flitwick chirped, "Yes."

From his place leaning against the large table, Dumbledore said, "No."

Sprout, who had been halfway out of her chair, shouted, "Damnit!" She sat back down.

"Fifty points from Hufflepuff!" shouted McGonagall. She was going to accomplish something worthwhile at this meeting.

"Well played!" cheered Lockhart from across the table.

McGonagall simply flicked her wand at Lockhart and the blonde imbecile found himself with his tongue locked onto the roof of his mouth. She swept her gaze over everyone else, and then decided to leave as well.

When she reached the corridor and the huge door closed behind her, she leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and sighed in relief. She heard chuckling from several feet away. She opened her eyes and saw Severus Snape leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "Have you decided you've had enough of Dumbledore's Circus?"

McGonagall sighed again, shaking her head. "Fuck yes, Professor Snape."

Thank you for reading. I hope you were amused. Feedback is a fanfic writer's salary. But, keep all flames to yourself. Thank you.