1. The Young Idealist by GryffindorGoddess
Young Charity Burbage held her teaching certificate delicately in her hands; the parchment was so new the signature of Fabian Waldgrave, Head of the Department of Wizarding Education, was still wet with ink.
This was it.
After five years of specialized study in educational theory and best practices, as well as a yearlong assimilation into Muggle society, Charity was finally going to be a professor. Her aspirations of changing the lives of young witches and wizards were about to come true.
Nothing was more important than teaching understanding, tolerance, and acceptance. Like in the Muggle schools Charity visited, where students even younger than eleven were learning about peoples from all over the world, witch and wizard students of Hogwarts would learn about their Muggle counterparts. Despite the unawareness of Muggles in regards to Wizarding culture, it was essential that Wizarding kind know and respect the Muggles.
Charity’s greatest ambition was to teach her magical students all that she could and expose them to the wonders and goodness that existed in the world of Muggles. Many of her university professors and classmates at the Institution for Educational Advancement told her it couldn’t be done, and even a select few insisted it should not be done. This made little sense to Charity, since Muggle Studies had been part of the curriculum at Hogwarts since 1879.
Either way, Charity Burbage knew she was doing the right thing. She knew that real teachers had to be real leaders, and while following others’ advice was often helpful, it in no way meant that she had to do what everyone else told her all the time.
After all, if she didn’t have the gumption to think and act independently of others, how could she expect her students to do the same?
It was all part of her idealistic “new teacher” philosophy: Do what is best for your students; teach every child; and make a difference…even if it means going against the grain.
Charity was broken from her train of thought when the gargoyle moved and a large door swung open. Exiting the spiral staircase were two men: one with salt-and-pepper hair and a skinny, stoic face, the other with long glistening white beard and twinkling blue eyes.
“Thank you for your time, Professor Dumbledore,” the first man said seriously, extending his hand to shake Dumbledore’s. “It has been a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Mr. Finchcomb. Have a safe journey back to Scunthorpe.”
The man nodded and walked quickly away, his smart dress shoes clicking authoritatively on the flagstones as he left. He must have had at least twenty years’ experience and probably a few advanced degrees as well. Charity’s heart sank as she summed up the competition and was tempted to forget the whole interview, but then she remembered…the students.
The reason she was here in the first place.
Charity looked down at her teaching certificate with its intricate lettering and thought about how hard she had worked to earn it. She felt slightly conceited when thinking what a disservice she would do future students if she didn’t get to teach them, but it was true. She had to try.
Besides, everyone starts out as a first-year at whatever they do.
Charity took a deep breath, introduced herself to Professor Dumbledore, and began the most exciting interview of her professional career.
“Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Burbage,” Albus said as she took a seat on the opposite side of his desk.
“Thank you for having me. This really is a beautiful school, and what a magnificent office you have!”
She had a difficult time focusing at first because of all of Dumbledore’s interesting and one-of-a-kind devices that captured her attention.
“I’m glad you think so,” Albus replied, smiling kindly. “Many of these are my own inventions. They required much hard work and dedication; some of them took years to perfect. I expect the same kind of devotion from my professors.”
Charity wondered where the question was in that tidbit of information or if Dumbledore even wanted her to respond at all. Her hands were shaky with nerves but she knew she couldn’t just sit there like a dumb doorknob.
“You are absolutely right, Professor. Anything worth doing well is worth taking the time and care to do it right. I’ve just returned from a twelve-month hiatus from magic; I spent that time living as a Muggle to better understand their ways,” Charity said, the pride of her accomplishment emanating from her confident tone of voice.
Dumbledore’s eyes widened. “That is incredible,” he said honestly. “I have never had a Muggle Studies teacher willing to go to such lengths to understand their subject. Tell me, how did you find life as a Muggle?”
“It was difficult at first,” Charity admitted, “but it was wonderful after I got used to doing everything without magic. I learned so much about Muggle customs and how they handle daily life, which I think is critical for my students to understand. I even learned how to drive a Muggle car!”
“How very exciting for you. Now might I ask a little more about your formal education? I see that you attended the Institution for Educational Advancement in London and graduated in only five years. Impressive.”
Charity blushed. She hated bragging on herself, but in cases that required it “ such as competitive job interviews “ it was absolutely necessary.
“Thank you, sir. I took extra classes throughout my first five years in order to use the last for my year with the Muggles. I found that I loved my classes so much that I just had to have as many as possible.”
“You must not have had much sleep, Miss Burbage,” Dumbledore assumed, given her heavy load of classes.
“I don’t need much, Professor. Or I didn’t until I started living without the convenience of magic,” she said, laughing. “Few people understand what Muggles must go through to accomplish even simple, everyday tasks.”
“Right, you are,” Dumbledore agreed. “And now I have just one last question.”
Charity’s heartbeat raced a little faster; she knew this was the big one, the one her future depended on. The right answer will get the job, whereas the wrong one will show you the door.
“Why do you want to be a teacher?”
She relaxed instantly. This was an answer she knew deep inside her bones. It wasn’t just a career goal, but a physical part of her being.
“I want to be a teacher because I believe every child can learn and grow. As a teacher I’m not a giver of knowledge but facilitator of learning. I want to inspire young people to want to learn and give them the tools and strategies they need to acquire knowledge. More specifically, I believe that witches and wizards “ especially in these times “ need to take an interest in learning who Muggles really are. The more they understand about the non-magical population, the better off our world will be.”
Albus Dumbledore hired Charity on the spot, claiming that her enthusiasm, goals, and intellectual superiority were in her favor. Mostly, Dumbledore hired her because he believed her heart was in the right place.
As for experience, Dumbledore stated that he would rather have a first-year professor with the drive and dedication to learning and teaching, than a professor with fifty years of experience who had lost passion for learning for its own sake.
“So Miss Burbage,” Dumbledore said. “Or I suppose I should say, Professor Burbage.”
Charity beamed upon hearing her name as Professor. She was so excited she had a hard time controlling the urge to squeal loudly so that it echoed throughout the castle. That kind of thing might make her knew boss wish he had made a better decision.
“Would you like to see your classroom?” Dumbledore asked, smiling as if he already knew the answer.
He led her through the hallway and down a moving staircase to the first floor, turned a few corners and stopped at a wooden door that looked identical to the rest.
“Pardon me, Professor Dumbledore, but am I going to receive any kind of school map? I would hate to get lost and fail to show up to class on my first day!”
Charity giggled nervously while images of thirteen-year-old students running amok in a classroom with no teacher supervision danced in her head. She would never regain any sort of control if the school year began with an absent or ill-prepared professor.
“No worries, Charity,” Dumbledore assured her. “You will be well taken care of around here. The faculty and staff are very helpful, and I have a feeling you’ll work out your way around the grounds in no time.”
She appreciated his kind words but hardly felt calm about it all.
By now, she had entered a brightly lit rectangular room with cathedral-tall ceilings and rows of student desks littering the floor. The walls were bare, save for a Silence is Golden banner on the left wall and a clean slate chalkboard at the front.
“As you can see, Professor Baumgartner left you a lot to work with.”
Charity wasn’t sure if that comment was meant sarcastically or not, so she decided not to respond. Her brainpower immediately went to figuring out how she could rearrange the room to suit her style and purposes. So much would have to be done, and it was already the end of July!
“This room is all yours now,” Dumbledore said as he handed her the key.
“Thank you. It was very nice to meet you, and let me tell you again how much I appreciate your taking the chance and offering me this job. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“Professors report back to Hogwarts on August twenty-fifth. Have a nice holiday and we’ll see you then.”
Albus Dumbledore exited and left Charity Burbage “ Professor Burbage “ alone in her very own classroom.
Holiday? Yeah right, she thought to herself. Charity could foresee (despite her lack of talent at Divination) spending long hours in this room every day until school started if she even hoped to have it ready in time.
The first thing that had to go was the rows of desks. Obviously, her predecessor was a proponent of the traditional style of education “ but that was easily adaptable.
With a flick of her wand, the desks zoomed around the room, rotating and banging into each other until they were situated into small groups of six. Another simple spell, “Congelemente,” fused the desks together and reshaped their structure into round tables.
“Perfect.”
Her next job took only a few seconds more.
“Scribere,” she chanted.
Suddenly the banner on the wall re-wrote itself to say, “Discussion is Golden.”
Charity plopped down on a chair by a newly formed round table and sighed in contentment.
“Now, let the madness begin.”
It took only two days for Charity to move her belongings to Hogwarts, which was a lofty feat considering she carried personal possessions as well as classroom supplies. Generally, first-year teachers begin with fewer supplies than those who have had more time to accumulate them, but not Charity.
She had ignored all the advice that told her, “Don’t run out and buy too much for your classroom! Your school will give you what you need.”
If “giving you what you need” meant providing space, seating, and decades old textbooks, then certainly. Nevertheless, what real teacher can instill knowledge and curiosity with a textbook? What student really wants to sit and take notes day after day?
Charity was not a typical student growing up and was therefore bound and determined not to be a typical professor. Her supplies were interactive, her lessons designed to make students think. The study of Muggles as a collective society and as individual human beings required more than memorization, so Charity’s methods had to be more than mediocre.
She had even begun imagining field trips to Muggle automobile dealerships, television newscast stations, and Muggle government offices. Never mind getting permission or money to fund the trips “ that would come later.
After a couple of weeks, the decorations and materials had been sorted out and organized…mostly. Books and special Muggle devices were arranged in storage cabinets, and a select few left on display to rouse curiosity. Some of Charity’s favorites were the electronic arithmetic machine they call the “calculator” and the mind-boggling Rubix Cube.
But as much time and effort it had taken to shop for the perfect materials and arrange her room just how she liked it, Charity knew the hard part had only just begun. More important than having the right teaching tools was delivering the right lessons.
Therefore, Charity set out to plan lessons for the first week of school with her quill and parchment in hand.
“Day one,” she said aloud. “Just take it one day at a time.”
The moon was high in the sky by the time she finished perfecting her lesson for the first day of school. Her brain was exhausted and she felt like she couldn’t look at another lesson plan idea before her head exploded. It was time for bed.
The next day went more smoothly, but just as she was getting into the swing of planning the week, a terrifying thought occurred to her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she was so frustrated she almost tore up every single piece of lesson plan parchment on her table.
“The students! How could I have forgotten the students?” she nearly sobbed. "I can’t possibly write lessons in advance without knowing my students!”
Part of Charity’s teaching philosophy involved adapting the lessons to fit the needs and interests of her students, so naturally the fact that this had escaped her while she planned made her just a bit hysterical.
The only comfort she held was that she had only planned through Wednesday, so the possibility of huge re-writes taking her hours to fix wasn’t very likely.
Before she could fix anything, she had to find her students.
These witches and wizards weren’t brand new to their education; they were entering their third year or higher at Hogwarts, which meant that they already knew how the system worked and would be easy to assimilate into a new class with a new professor. Fortunately, it also meant that they had school records.
Charity rummaged around her neatly stacked folders until she found the one labeled “Class Lists and Student Information.” To her dismay and sadness, only forty-two students had opted to pursue Muggle Studies as an additional academic course.
She would have five sections: one class for each year level of students. The only positive Charity could find in this disappointment was that her class sizes would be small, manageable, and much easier to teach individual students.
Charity’s plans for the future held more ambition than simply being a teacher. She made it a personal goal that student enrollment in Muggle Studies would increase every year. She would make it her job to be the professor from whom students wanted to learn.
The folder of student records stared her in the face, and the hands on the clock moved much too quickly. Time was flying faster than a Seeker in a Quidditch World Cup match.
She opened the folder and started at the beginning.
“Abernethy, Glenda. Third year.” The picture showed a round-faced girl with sleek blond hair, smiling cheerfully.
As she perused the files of all her future students, Charity began to take even more ownership and care in the planning of lessons. Now her students were no longer anonymous beings. They had names and faces “ actual young witches and wizards who were counting on her to engage their minds and give them the best education she could.
They were Quidditch players, prefects, Gobstones Club members and students with no extracurricular activities at all. They made average grades, some doing barely enough to scrape by, and others determined to be the top of their class. They all had potential.
Charity only made it through the K’s on the first day. Thirteen days remained until students would be returning to the castle for the new term.
Thirteen days until Charity Burbage would become a real professor.
Fin.