He stared, looking around at the fire and destruction that surrounded him. People were screaming, grown men begging for their parents. Others, as their screaming started off loud, then started to fade as their breath left them. It was a massacre. Never again. Never, would he join the fight or teach others how too. Silently, he left the battlefield and apparated home.
The next day, Professor Binns, Part time Auror and DADA professor at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry turned in his resignation. Teaching students how to defend and battle in fights used to be his passion. But not anymore. Not after he had seen what his teachings could lead to. He walked out of Headmaster Suvanarat's office. He was only the young age of 29, yet his soul was well on the way of dieing.
A few weeks passed. Slowly, the letters from students begging him to come back stopped. It wasn't like he ever read them, not after the first 20. They were all the same.
Professor Binns
Please come back. We all miss you horribly. Classes aren't the same without our favorite professor. You always knew how to make the subject interesting. Please, we need someone who knows what he's doing to teach us how to fight.
Please come back.
Why didn't they realize that he had finally realized where fighting lead? Death and destruction. Couldn't they see that fighting wasn't the answer? Hundreds had lost their lives that day, only 2 weeks till Christmas. Little children would no longer be able to have happy Christmas times, with their dads acting goofy and handing out presents. No longer would they be able to run to their moms to make their boo-boos better when they got a little scratched. And it was his fault. He had taught about half of the people there on the battlefield those curses. He could no longer justify teaching future generations.
And so, months passed. Slowly, the war was being fought, with no real hope for either side. Rupert Binns stopped going outside his house. Wherever he went, people discussed the war, about recent victories and saw young men milling about, anxiously talking about how they couldn't wait to "Kick some Dirt Cleansers butts"
War kills. People get hurt and never return home quite the same way they left it. And yet, people were signing up by the millions to help out, joking around. Young kids could be seen in the parks, pretending to curse each other. What was the world coming too?
So, Rupert Binns stayed inside his house, locking himself away from the horrors of the world, only getting informed by the Daily Prophet of the going-ons around the world. And slowly, he lost all sense of himself and effectively became a "dead" person, no longer filled with the love of life he once had.
Weeks turned to months, months turned to years. Rupert Binns was now 37 years old but looked about 45. The war was still going on, and although the light side currently had the upper hand, it could easily turn back to the Dark side's favor. He was sitting in his kitchen when the mail arrived. Only this time, the Daily Prophet wasn't alone. A Hogwarts owl, carrying a letter, accompanied it. He slowly took the letter from the bird, expecting it to fly off, but it waited as though expecting a reply. He turned the letter over and read it.
Dear Mr. Binns
We here at Hogwarts are in need of your assistance. As you well know, the war has been going on, and everyone has been affected in some way. Sadly, we are not exempt. Recently, we have lost our History of Magic Professor, Professor Hunkle, to the disasters of war. We are in need of a new teacher, and based upon several glowing recommendations, we have come to ask you. Would you please consider signing on to be our new History of Magic Professor? We would be very thankful if you would consider this. Please reply no later than July 1st.
Thank you,
Headmaster Gehrs
Rupert sighed at the signing of the unfamiliar headmaster's name. Yes, Hogwarts was defiantly not exempt. 3 years ago, Headmaster Suvanarat had been killed in midst of yet another battle.
He re-read the letter. He knew that he wouldn't need that long to make up his mind. HE already knew. This would be his opportunity to teach people about the horrors of war, how it wasn't all pretty. Everything had severe consequences, and sadly, most started with just slight disagreements that could have been sorted out before the fighting. Now he could pass this knowledge onto future generations and hopefully, one day, the fighting would stop.
He walked over to his desk and got out a piece of paper.
Dear Headmaster Gehrs
I would love to sign on as your History of Magic professor…
THE END
A.N: I know…. Pretty crappy. I was sitting here, reading fan fiction when suddenly, this idea popped into my mind. And wouldn't leave. So I sat here, and typed, and typed, and typed :D In fact, this was all written in maybe an hour. I needed it out of my mind so I could concentrate on writing my other story :D Anyways…. Yeah. Review, Don't Review.. I don't care. It's out of my head. :D