Hey, guys! Summer here :) As you can see, this is going to be a collection of fics that I write for minor characters (the term 'minor' applying rather loosely) from here on out. It'll range from people like… say, Lockhart to the Outer Circle Death Eater members to Marlene McKinnon.

And for this chapter, it's Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor killed by Voldemort in the Deathly Hallows. The topic for QFLC Round 5 that I am using is "in her favourite class". WORD COUNT: 1,190

Title: Her Purpose

Hope you enjoy!

Charity Burbage was always fascinated by Muggles.

Never mind the fact that she was a witch, one who could light a room with a flick of her wand, or levitate an object with a single word. No, Muggles were the real magic in the world, because somehow, without the power of wands, they had flourished and thrived to the point where they lived life in relative ease.

Charity let out a sigh of admiration as she opened her Muggle Studies book. She was an avid fan of Charms and Potions, but this… this study of some of the most remarkable beings in the world was her favourite.

"Alright, alright, take your seats," Professor Morel, the Muggle Studies professor, trilled. "Excellent. Now, who is absent? Mr. Harrington? Okay. Miss Lyte?" He quickly marked down the two names onto a piece of parchment.

"Both of them got hurt in the recent Quidditch game, Professor," Charity explained.

"Ah, right. Shame," he said, shaking his head. "We're learning about a fascinating system today that Muggles have developed. Does anyone remember the name?"

Charity's hand confidently flew into the air.

"Yes, Miss Burbage?" Morel's eyes crinkled with amusement. It was obvious to the class that Charity was his favourite student, not that there were many to choose from.

"Electricity," Charity said with reverence.

"Excellent. Miss Perdell, would you mind collecting last night's homework? Thank you." As a girl with mousy brown hair stepped up to gather the rolls of parchment on the uses of what Muggles called 'rubber ducks', Professor Morel tapped the chalkboard. "Who can tell me what electricity does? Miss Burbage?"

For Charity had already had her hand up in the air, waving it with passion and excitement. "Oh, it does what torches do for us! It creates light, so that the Muggles can see during the night. It's ingenious really. Most of the time, all they've got to do is flick on a switch, and the room will light up!"

"Very good," Morel commented.

Julia Perdell raised her hand, having collected the homework and placing it on their professor's desk. "Professor? Would elec-eletri-eleli-"

"Electricity," Charity supplied helpfully.

"Yes, electriticiticy," Julia nodded. "Is it the thing that powers what we learned about the computers?"

"It most certainly does, through a series of plugs, which are…"

The class continued in this manner of discussion, neither formal nor informal, with Julia and Charity switching off with their questions, and Morel answering them with enthusiasm.

After what seemed only like a few minutes, but in truth was an hour, the bell rang and Professor Morel looked up at the clock in vague surprise.

"Oh, my! Time flew by, didn't it? Well, I suppose there's no use in giving homework tonight, since half of us are gone. Class is dismissed!" Morel said, clapping his hands. "I do hope Mr. Harrington and Miss Lyte come in tomorrow. It was rather quiet today, don't you think?"

"It's rather quiet always," Charity murmured. "Compared to our other classes."

And Julia and Charity stood up as the only two students in the Muggle Studies classroom, waving goodbye to their Muggle Studies teacher, who looked pained at the reminder.

"Feel sort of bad for him, don't you think?" Julia whispered.

"Yes. I would think, though, that more people would study Muggles. They're so… fascinating! Can't people see that they're our equals in everything except that they've not gotten wands?"

"Shame," Julia agreed emphatically. "If only more people took the class…!"

Later that night, Charity lay in her bed while reading up on a book she had borrowed about electricity. It was absolutely captivating. The way Muggles had developed such a complex system was astounding, and not for the first time, Charity found herself wondering who was truly more developed - the wizards or the Muggles.

It was this thought that began the creation of her purpose.

"Excellent, Miss Burbage. You seem very knowledgeable in this subject. There is just one more question I must ask you." Albus Dumbledore clasped his hand on his desk and leaned forward.

"Ask away," Charity chirped, feeling much more confident after how well the rest of her interview for being the new Hogwarts' Muggle Studies teacher went.

"What is your purpose in teaching this subject?"

Charity opened her mouth to speak, but the thoughts that were jumbled up in her brain refused to be coherent. "Well," she began, struggling to pin down a point of her passion, but failing. "Well, I'd like to teach these next generations of witches and wizards that we are not the only beings on this earth, and that we share the world with a remarkable group of people that have learned to cope without magic."

She smiled hesitantly, unsure if she should continue, but Albus nodded approvingly and said, "Thank you, Miss Burbage. You have left an excellent impression on me, and will be informed of whether you got the position or not in precisely a week."

When the letter from Hogwarts arrived at Charity's window, carried by a school barn owl, it took her a minute to read the letter and make an instantaneous decision. She scribbled a note back to Professor Dumbledore, all while forgetting about her steadily burning eggs.

It was the start of her purpose.

Over the years of working in the classroom, commanding it like her own professor had, Charity had the incredible opportunity to teach many different types of students.

The beginning was admittedly rough, with only ten students enrolled in her class. But as the years flew by, more and more students started to take Muggle Studies, which, of course, delighted her to no end.

She had the opportunity to teach young Arthur Weasley, an ambitious young pureblood whose passion for the subject was just as fervored as hers. Then years later, she taught a motivated Muggleborn student by the name of Hermione Granger, who truly brought a new level of meaning to being "Muggleborn".

All in all, Charity's career was a success up until the very day she died.

When she was unceremoniously taken from her house by men wearing dark masks and flowing, black robes, Charity knew she was going to die. She knew it when she was strung upside down from the ceiling of a Pureblood manor, and she knew it when the people with faces she had not seen printed in the newspaper for more than seventeen years filed in, sneering at her helpless body.

She was scared. Yet, as the green light from You-Know-Who's wand hurtled at her from halfway across the dark, dark chamber, Charity felt only one regret.

She regretted that she had not been able to make her mark on some of these younger Death Eaters, who were certainly young enough to have once been her students, before they were Marked on their left forearms.

But even as the laughs of the jeering Death Eaters reached her ears, Charity was certain that her life purpose had been at least sensible if not also morally correct, and she hoped with all she had left that her legacy and her purpose, however little, would live on.