Chapter 4

The Owls

Charity took it as a very good sign when many of her students returned to class the following term with folders bearing the image of the latest Muggle heart throb, and when some of the girls gathered in the corner of the classroom to giggle over an article in the Muggle newspaper about the Prince of Wales. While acceptance of Muggle pop-culture was a good step in the right direction, Charity had more important lessons to tackle. She chose the week following the holidays to cover the year's toughest lesson – Nazi Germany. The class studied Hitler's rise to power and saw photos of Auschwitz, the largest of the German concentration and extermination camps. The mood in Charity's classroom was somber as winter winds lashed at the castle.

"And so you see students," she said, trying to keep her emotions in check, "often the most egregious, most horrendous, crimes against humanity have been committed by humanity itself."

As the final test on this unit, Charity asked the class to write an essay comparing Adolph Hitler with someone from the wizarding world. Most of them chose Voldemort (opting for the more socially acceptable title of You-Know-Who in their actual writing) as their wizard subject, while a few stretched a bit further back in history and wrote about Grindelwald. To a student, they cited both of the evil wizards' quests to rid the wizarding community of Muggle-borns. Only one joker, Charles Whitney, wrote about Argus Filch's grand scheme to rid the world of Hogwarts students.

Voldemort was, of course, the freshest on everyone's mind, as many of the students' parents were around to see the havoc he and his followers, known as Death Eaters, had wrought. He had blessedly disappeared under mysterious circumstances by the time any of Charity's students were old enough to remember. Still, his memory hung heavily over the community, and very few wizards were comfortable speaking, much less hearing or writing, his name. Gellert Grindelwald was out of power and imprisoned by the time Voldemort came to the scene, but his legend still lived on, particularly around Hogwarts since Dumbledore was the wizard that had brought him down. Grindelwald made a particularly interesting study on this assignment because his attempt to dominate the wizarding world occurred at the same time as Hitler's attempt on the Muggle world.

The following week at breakfast, Charity was surprised when a number of owls landed right in front of her and dropped several letters on her toast. The owls then shook the slush off their battered feathers and onto the table and took off in unison towards the high windows, leaving her with a mushy pile of letters and soggy toast. Abandoning her breakfast, she went to work on the letters. All of them were from parents of her students, and all had the same basic message:

Dear Professor Burbage,

I've heard from Mrs. Lane who heard from the MacMillans that you have had our children write essays defaming the character of a certain powerful Wizard who shall-not-be-named. Surely, you can understand the risks associated with such a project.

I certainly hope you have at least had the sense to destroy the children's essays as soon as you assigned the grades. If not, I request you do so now. RIGHT NOW!

As you are an inexperienced teacher, I will leave it at that, for now. If, however, I hear of any other such projects going on in your classroom I will be forced to have the parents sign a petition to Dumbledore and request that you be removed from Hogwarts.

Most Sincerely,

Bernard Bellwith

Once she got the gist, she quickly gathered up letters and went to her office to destroy the essays. No, she hadn't had the "sense" to destroy them sooner. She felt extremely incensed that the damage Voldemort had done to magical-Muggle relations still lingered a full thirteen years after he had disappeared. At least, she hoped, the lessons the students had learned could not be so easily destroyed.

Not wishing to step on any more toes just yet, Charity decided to lighten the mood and take her students on a field trip during class the next day.

"Leave your books and wands here students. You won't be needing them," she said and led them down, down, down to the kitchens. Students were not supposed to know exactly where the kitchens were, so she'd had to break her Muggle Rules, just this once, to temporarily blind them in the entrance hall. Student by student she said, "Nuloptis," with a quick flick of her wand and spun them each three times. The group then slowly staggered down stairs and into a wide corridor lined with paintings. Charity stopped in front of a giant fruited still life and tickled the pear, which let out an infectious giggle and turned into a big green door knob. She opened the door and helped the students in.

When the students entered the kitchens, and their vision began to clear, they beheld stacks and stacks of dirty plates, bowls, goblets and platters lining the four long tables that mimicked the house tables in the Great Hall directly above. The tiny house elves, who worked in the kitchen, stood around wringing their boney hands and wiggling their pointed ears. They glanced nervously with their giant eyes at the students and then quickly away. They shifted in place on their somewhat dirty bare feet and looked most uncomfortable. One thing they were definitely not doing was working. In the wizarding world, house elves' existence is based on one thing, and that is to serve wizards. For them to stand idly by with so much work right in front of them was a very odd thing indeed.

"What the…" Charity heard a student mutter as he took in the mess.

A few of the house-elves started softly rubbing their legs against the sharp edge of the cabinets, and one had started tapping a very heavy-looking pan on his forehead.

"Stop!" Charity said firmly to the elves, who became very still. Then, she turned to the students and said, "I have instructed the house elves to leave this morning's breakfast dishes untouched - because we are going to immerse ourselves in the Muggle way of life and see what it's like to perform this everyday duty without magic."

"She's crack-..." started Charles Whitney, until she shot him a sharp glance.

"Professor Burbage," asked Jessica shyly, "When there are this many dishes, surely there are Muggle-elves to do the Muggles' dishes for them?"

"No Miss Bellwith, there are not. There are certainly upper-class Muggles that have servants that do this type of work for them, and at large boarding schools, such as Hogwarts, there is a kitchen staff that will do the dishes - but these servants are not elves. Their servants are other Muggles." This statement drew a gasp from the students as well as the elves, proving once again how little the wizarding world truly understood about Muggles. This realization renewed Charity's sense of purpose and restored some of the confidence she had lost after reading the parents' letters.

"So, we are working-class Muggles today students. Roll up your sleeves, and we'll get to work." Charity was gratified to see that, once they got rolling with the liquid soap, dish cloths, towels and twenty-six pairs of rubber gloves that she had brought down the night before, the students seemed to be enjoying themselves. Mounds of soapy bubbles covered the sinks, and the students soon discovered that a tightly wound damp towel could do more damage than a stinging jinx.

"Look I'm Dumbledore!" shouted Ernie Macmillan, who had somehow managed to lump an extremely long row of soap bubbles onto his chin. It was good to see Ernie, who was fairly tightly wound, lighten up a little bit.

Charity showed the students how to make it snow in the kitchens by blowing a load of bubbles off her hand. And so the breakfast dishes got washed as best they could among the bubble snow, snapping towels and laughter of the students and their teacher, who was growing very dear to them. The elves, on the other hand, were far from being thrilled at being relieved of their duties. They merely stood around, their impossibly large eyes somehow looking larger, shrugging their shoulders at one another. Charity got the feeling that all the dishes were re-washed the elfin way as soon as her class departed. Probably for the best.

When class ended, she sent the damp and sudsy students back to the classroom to pick up their items. She was flushed and soapy, but her eyes sparkled as she strolled along behind the students. All thought of the disturbing owl-post was nearly pushed from her mind, until Snape approached her with a cold, "There you are. Professor Dumbledore is waiting to see you in your classroom."

Charity followed Snape silently through the corridors and stairs towards her classroom. This must be about the owls. Had some of the parents already demanded her immediate resignation? Was her tenure at Hogwarts really to be this short lived? She felt a heavy, warm mass growing in the pit of her stomach, and wondered if any of the students had ever felt this way as they were being led to visit the mighty headmaster.

As they approached her classroom, students shot her concerned glances as they quickly made their way out with their books and wands. Snape stopped her short, just before the doorway. He cupped her chin in his long fingers and brushed away a spot of foamy white suds from her cheek with his thumb. She gave him a weak smile of appreciation for this unexpected gesture of kindness. Or did he merely want to point out that she was a mess?

Professor Dumbledore was standing at the front of the room, looking out the window. When he turned, she was surprised to see he was holding Bnickel. She'd forgotten that she'd left her pet to roam free in the classroom to exercise while the class was out. It was something she couldn't do at night because the caretaker's malevolent cat roamed free at that time and had made too many attempts on Bnickel's life. Dumbledore was holding the rabbit in one arm and stroking his black and white fur with his other hand. Bnickel lay with his fur puffed out and his eyes narrowed to relaxed slits as he enjoyed the rubdown. When Dumbledore spied Charity, he gently reached for one of the bunny's front paws.

"I'd say we've got four lucky paws right here because they're attached to this adorable rascal," Dumbledore said as he nuzzled Bnickel's head. Charity relaxed a bit; it was difficult to be intimidated by someone who nuzzled bunnies and used words like "rascal."

Snape had turned to go, but Dumbledore asked him to stay and shut the door behind him. Then, turning back to Charity he said, "I've received a few letters today regarding your latest assignment in Muggle Studies."

"Yes, I, er, received a few myself," she replied nervously.

"I suspected as much when I saw the soggy mound in front of your breakfast yesterday."

'Here it comes' she thought and braced herself.

"I just wanted to tell you - excellent job," Dumbledore said, beaming at her with a smile, his blue eyes twinkling.

'What?' she thought and barely kept herself from saying aloud.

"You've managed to spark an interest in a subject that heretofore has been all but ignored. You are already doing just what I'd hoped you would," he continued with a sideways glance towards Snape. "So, I merely came down here this morning to tell you to keep up the good work!" Then, he handed the bunny to Snape, gave it another pat and left.

Bnickel wasn't quite so comfortable in Snape's grasp and immediately began squirming. Snape looked just about as uncomfortable as the rabbit. Charity couldn't help but allow herself a few moments of mindless beaming before she scooped up her pet with a "Thank you," to Snape, who exited as quickly as possible.