Unknown Acquaintances

Chapter 1- Nobody

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd advertise -- you know!
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To be an admiring bog

“Ahhh!” shouted 16-year old Christine Flew, as her books fell from her bag. Figures, she thought grumpily, I would be the one to sleep late on the first day. With a frown on her face, she picked up all her books and waited impatiently for her friend Cho Chang to come through the tapestry. Finally the tapestry rolled back and Cho stepped into the corridor, a tentative smile appeared.

“Sorry about that.” she said, seeing the look on Christine’s face. “I couldn’t find my transfiguration book.”

“I wish this wasn’t your last year.” Christine whined, as they walked to the Great Hall.

“Don’t worry.” Cho assured, “You still have everyone else.”

“DAMN!” Cho turned to look behind her and had to tried very hard to not laugh. It was quite a spectacle. Christine’s prefect badge had fallen off and in the process of picking it up her hair had gotten into her face, causing her to drop everything.

“Damn! Damn! Damn!”

“Christine!” A voice scolded from out of nowhere. In front of the two girls a young woman appeared. She was dressed in 1400’s clothing and seemed to be… transparent. “That is not the proper language for a lady!”

“Please, Lady, I’m not in the mood today.” The Gray Lady, or the “Lady” as the students of Ravenclaw had taken to calling her, looked surprised for a moment and then vanished without a word.

“Bad call Chris, she’s not going to talk to you for awhile.” Cho remarked.

“She’ll get over it. Ugh! This is it. A simple shearing charm and I’ll have a nice bob cut.” Christine had picked everything up (again) and was trying to put her hair back into place.

“Here.” Cho held her wand up to Christine’s hair and murmured a few words. The stray pieces went back into place. “It should stay that way until dinner.”

Christine turned around to glare at her best friend. “And you didn’t tell me about this charm before because….”

“Because I only recently started getting Witch Weekly. Come on we got to get to breakfast.” She tugged on Christine’s arm, who reluctantly started to follow her.

“Remind me to kill you later.” She sighed “I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning. I usually have my routine down to a minimum.”

“Did you have trouble sleeping or something?”

“Sort of,” she said, adjusting the strap of the bag on her shoulder. “Stress probably. Maybe Madame Pomfrey will give me some sleeping potion.” She shook her head. “I can’t go on like this all year. I’ll turn into another Neville Longbottom.”

The two of them finally reached the Great Hall and took the seats that their friend Vivian Alley had saved.

“Took you two long enough.” She grumbled.

“Well, Cho forgot her transfiguration book.” Christine shot her a disapproving glare. Cho responded by just rolling her eyes.

“Where’s Morgan?” she asked, looking around.

“She was here before you but I think I saw her go into an empty classroom.” Vivian said, sounding annoyed.

“With who?” Cho and Chris asked simultaneously.

“It was either Ernie Macmillan or Seamus Finnigan. I can’t remember.”

All three girls groaned. Their dear friend Morgan Rigby was a sixth year and was what every boy dreamed of at night. She also took advantage of this position. Not to say she was a slut or anything, but Aphrodite herself couldn’t match up to this girl’s looks. Surprisingly, though, she wasn’t the airhead most people expected her to be.

“So, anyway Cho, what’s the word on Quidditch this season? Or should I say Captain?” Vivian asked a little too eagerly. Vivian Alley was quite the Quidditch fan. She was one of the beaters on the Ravenclaw team. A perfect example of her skill on the field was the three broken arms that the Slytherin team suffered after Draco Malfoy insulted her. If there was one thing that the entire student body had learned about Vivian Alley, it was do not make her angry.

“Well, I think we got a pretty good line up. We have a space for a Chaser and speaking of Chasers…” Cho started turning to Christine.

“No way, Cho. We go through this every year. I’m doing the commentary this year. You know I’ve wanted the job ever since Lee Jordan graduated. Pass the toast, please.”

Cho practically shoved it in her face. “Come on Chris, we need you. You’re great on a broom.”

“Final answer: No.” Cho looked miffed for a moment but then settled into a conversation with Vivian about who should be the new chaser. A few minutes later Morgan came waltzing over to the table, throwing her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Hey girls.” She said, grabbing a piece of toast. “Did you hear there’s going to be a Christmas Ball this year? Danny already asked me.” Vivian nearly spit out her pumpkin juice.

“Danny? As in Daniel Fates of Hufflepuff?”

“Yes. Quite dashing isn’t he?”

“Are you kidding? He’s more then dashing! He’s…. He’s… okay I’m out. Who do want to go with Cho?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Cho became very interested in picking at her eggs. “It depends.”

Christine put a hand on her shoulder, concern evident on her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. It still hurts though. Anyway, who do you want to go with?” She asked, forcing a smile. Christine felt a pang of guilt wash over her. The last two years had been hard for Cho, after Cedric dying. Not to mention, the fact that Cho was going to have to live through a ‘Winter Ball,’ which had been suggested by Dumbledore that past summer as a way to lift spirits. For Cho, it would just lower hers, bringing back unwanted memories. Keep things simple, Christine thought, as she opened her mouth to speak.

“I have no clue. Maybe, I just won’t go. No one asked me to the Yule Ball in fourth year either but I still went. Ended up sitting out the entire time. Guys and me don’t-.” Christine was interrupted by the owl post, which came in a massive flight of feathers into the Great Hall. Her own black owl, Zeus came swooping towards her, a letter clutched tight in his beak.

“Guess Mom got my letter last night.” She sighed, opening the letter. Zeus, sensing her mood, nibbled her affectionately on her ear.

“I know who you should go with.” Vivian said slyly, perking her friends’ sudden interest. “Professor Lupin.” This resulted in a flying piece of toast.

“Vivian, I was a third year! It was a stupid crush!”

“Yeah, but does that explain your letters to the Ministry on why werewolves should be allowed more rights?” Christine’s face was now a bright red. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a large white owl flew into her face. She let of a yelp of surprise and jumped back falling over in her chair.

“Hedwig!” A voice scolded. A moment later, Christine found herself staring into a pair of amazingly green eyes. A young man who looked about her own age helped her to her feet.

“I’m sorry.” He said, frowning. “Hedwig isn’t usually like that.” She would have taken this moment to respond but her throat had gained a rather large lump. For she knew to whom those green eyes belonged. “Are you all right?” He asked.

“I’m…fine…fine.” Gulping she immediately straightened her posture. She looked over at the table out of curiosity and saw Zeus and the owl she presumed was Hedwig snuggling close together. Letting out a laugh she pointed at them. “Looks like our owls have might be involved.” The young man followed her finger laughed as well.

“Guess so. By the way, what’s your name?”

“Christine. Christine Flew. And yours?” Of course I know his name, she thought idly. Who the hell doesn’t? But then of course, I have to ‘remember my manners’ as Dad says…

“Harry Potter.” He said slowly. No duh…

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Suddenly off to the side, a loud voice rang out. “Harry! Come on and get your schedule. Double potions with the Slytherins again! What are they trying to do; kill us all!”

Christine stifled a giggle. “Sounds like your being paged.”

“Yeah. I’ve got to go. Maybe I’ll see you again.” He replied.

“Maybe you will.” With that Harry smiled, and then took off back towards the Gryffindor table. Christine stared after him in daze for a few minutes. A loud ‘Ahem’ from the table brought her out of her reverie.

“W-what?” She said, turning back to the table. All three her friends were smirking at her. “What?!”

“Ladies, I think we have a replacement for Professor Lupin.” remarked Vivian.

“You mean Harry-and me?!” Christine was flabbergasted. “Not in a million years! Do you know how many girls have their eye on him?! I wouldn’t stand a chance! Not that I would want too.” She added quickly. Everyone’s smirk just widened.

“That’s not what it looked like from here.” Morgan teased. “You were ready to fall into his arms after you saw his eyes.”

“Really! I do NOT like Harry Potter. I will admit he’s rather handsome.”

“He asked me to the Yule Ball in fifth year. He is rather sweet. He was so nervous. But I have an inkling to say you fancy him.” Cho said.

“For the last time, I do NOT ‘fancy’ Harry Potter, as you British people say.”

“You’re considered just as British as the rest of us,” Morgan huffed. “You’ve lived here since you were ten. Just because you came from the States doesn’t mean that you can classify yourself as different-,” She was caught off short by Vivian, burst out unexpectedly, her face set in determination.

“All right then.” Vivian stood up in front of Christine. “You’ll be happy to make this bet. Ten Galleons says you admit to having a crush on him by Christmas.”

“I will not wager on something as miniscule as that.”

“What’s to lose? You don’t like him, so you’ll just be gaining ten Galleons.” Christine looked thoughtful for a moment as if weighing her options. Finally she whispered the three simple words that sealed it, while glaring Vivian down.

“It’s a deal.” A bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. Owls and students alike scattered grabbing schedules and what not.

* * * * *

Friday Afternoon, After Classes: Library

‘She saw a crackling of summer lightning in his eyes--the heat lightning she had felt the night he walked her home. He needed her. After weeks of not feeling needed by others, it seemed welcome. His lips touched hers, cool, soft, almost chaste. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought. He moaned slightly, as if it were his first kiss, long denied, and she folded into him while he put his arms around her. Her mouth parted. He nibbled her lip…’

Christine slammed the small novel shut. She would have thrown it against the wall if it weren’t for the fact that it was her favorite book.

The rest of the week had gone by in a blur for Christine. She had spent most of it trying to tackle the huge loads of homework the professors had thrown on the students, as an attempt to revive them from summer vacation. Also, she had made a rather small discovery.

She was going to have a hard time trying to win this bet.

It seemed like every time she turned around, he was only a few feet away from her. Hurriedly, Chris would just turn and walk away in the opposite direction. And somehow, he would creep into her mind at certain intervals during the day.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and settled back into the comfort of the overstuffed chair in the library. She listened intently and was not surprised to hear no one there. Most of the students were in the common rooms or outside, trying to grasp the last of summer. That’s why she loved it there on the weekends. She knew no one would ever bother her. It was quiet and peaceful. This was where she hid, when things were bothering her or she just had to get away from the same people day after day.

Her eyes opened again and fell to the cover of the small novel. The Silver Kiss by Annette Curtis Klause. Christine giggled slightly. Muggles, she thought. If only they knew this stuff was real. On the cover of the book, was a young man with a leather jacket on and blonde hair. Next to him stood a young woman with black curly hair. She had on jeans and a sweater. The Silver Kiss was about vampire who falls in love with a Muggle girl. Romance is a silly thing, she thought abruptly and she quickly shoved the book back inside her bag.

Will I ever fall in love? Christine stared silently out the window. Down on the ground she could see some third year boys practicing Quidditch among the new fallen leaves.

Christine Rose Flew had only a few experiences in the department of love. When she was younger, the only thing she had ever thought about the opposite sex was that they were a bunch of bumbling idiots who didn’t know the meaning of mature. But her beliefs had her come in for a crash landing when she started her third year at Hogwarts. That’s right. Her introduction to what the opposite sex really stood for was none other then Professor Lupin.

Professor Lupin. She had known he was a werewolf from the start. I mean she was the daughter of one of the States finest Aurors. Not to mention my stupid gift….. She could remember the first day she had seen him even though it had been three years ago.

Christine had been sitting next to Morgan and the two of them had had their noses buried in the latest Witch Weekly. She remembered hearing a rather hoarse voice start the class.

“Hello class, I’m your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin. If you’d all stand up and just bring your wands, we can proceed with the lesson.” Following orders was something Christine was used to, so without even thinking she had picked up her wand and lazily fixed her eyes toward the front of the room. What followed next, she would never forget. Her stomach decided to go upside down and then settle into a feeling that felt as though a thousand Buldgers had taken refuge in her gut.

She had fallen-hard.

It wasn’t long before she had memorized every feature in his face. Parchment that was supposed to contain notes would instead be covered with his name. Luckily, her tongue never twisted when she talked to him. Instead her face blushed a million shades of red and she couldn’t move without bumping into something. Finally one day after class, Professor Lupin asked Christine to stay and talk to him. Christine suspected that it had some thing to do with the Grindylow tank she had knocked over when he had asked her to demonstrate the best way of attacking one.

“Christine,” he had started. Whiz! There goes a Buldger, she thought. “This may seem a bit straightforward but I want you to be honest with me.” Here he paused and cleared his throat appearing to be as uncomfortable as Christine was. “Do you have a crush on me?” Her mouth suddenly lost the ability of speech. Lie. One part of her brain hissed. Truth said the other. Mustering up her courage she managed a shaky nod.

“Okay then. Listen, I’m positively flattered. Really, I am. But you see you can’t have a crush on me. I’m much older then you. Old enough to be your father I suspect. You’re 13 years old; you should be admiring boys like Oliver Wood and Roger Davies. Boys your own age. Do you understand?” Another nod. “Good. Thank you for being honest and I have to say, you have a knack for DADA.” At this she smiled. She had loved and lost, but she would love again. Before she turned to leave she asked him a personal question; she didn’t expect an answer.

“Are you a werewolf?” Lupin’s eyebrows had shot up at the question.

How-?” he started.

She stopped him. “Flew. The famous American Auror, Thomas Flew. Let’s just say that I know a bit more about magic then a third year should. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” With that, she turned and left.

Life moved on rather quickly after that. Soon her taste in boys was reduced to those around her own age, though she never forgot about Professor Lupin. After hearing of his resignation, her whole day had been spent in the common room, writing letters to every Ministry figure she could think of about how werewolves deserved to have more rights. So she was quite happy that he had arrived to teach again in her fifth year, last year.

Someday I will fall in love. Just not now. Romance will come eventually. Christine pawed through her bag, looking for some other reading material. Her hands fell across the Arithmancy homework she had putting off until the last minute. She preferred Arithmancy to Divination, which she had dropped out of shortly after her third year had started. Professor Trelawney had been quite bitter with Christine, after class one day informing her that she would never succeed in that area of magic. Needless to say, a long talk with Professor Flitwick had soon followed.

I'm going to have to get Hermione to help me with this, she thought, as she gazed at the charts of complex numbers and equations. Switching to Arithmancy in the middle of the year wasn’t the smartest thing that she had done, but it had either been that or Muggle Studies. The Study of Ancient Runes hadn’t even been considered as an option.

While Christine sat engrossed in the thoughts of what they had in fact gone over in class that day, she didn’t notice Hermione sit down, until she spoke up.

“I see that you’re trying to figure out the Arithmancy homework.” Christine jumped, startled to find that someone else was indeed in the library. Seeing as it was Hermione, she sighed, showing relief.

“Do you enjoy scaring the crap out of people?”

“No, not really. I would rather like to think of that as Snape’s day job.”

“You got that right, honey. What were you saying about Arithmancy? I was just trying to remember what we talked about.” Christine had known Hermione for years, after enrolling in Arithmancy. Considering the hard nature of the class, Christine had needed much help after joining and Herms, as Christine had started calling her, had been gracious enough to help her out. The two, much to everyone’s surprise were becoming fast friends. Both were considered to be candidates for next year’s Head Girl. But Christine had always suspected that Hermione would make it, more or less, because people actually knew of her.

“I said that you seem like you’re having a hard time with it.”

“I always have had a hard time with it. I never did like the class much. But both sets of my grandparents are Muggles, so that class was out of the question.”

“Well, I took it but then I dropped it. There wasn’t much sense in taking it. I mean, both my parents are Muggles, too.” Christine smiled at Hermione, whose mouth was still moving but Christine didn’t catch any of the words. She always seemed like the type willing to do more work then was required. Christine smiled happily and continued to chat with Hermione aimlessly, as if her troubles were far away. If only she knew they were just about to begin.

* * * * *

A few feet away in the library sat Harry Potter and his best friend, Ron Weasley; books on the different effects of dragon shields use in potions, in front of them. Harry could hear Ron scratching his essay for Potions idly, mumbling something every few minutes. Finally, he lost his nerve.

“Bugger, Harry,” Ron threw his quill down on the table. “Who does Hermione think she is? We’re up in the common room, minding our own bloody business and then all of a sudden, she drags us down here to work on our Potion’s essay.” He spat out the last two words as if they were poison. Harry stopped writing and thoughtfully laid his quill down on the table. Here we go again, he thought.

“Come on, Ron” he said. “Hermione’s just all riled up because it’s the first week back to school. You know how she is, until you settle her into some kind of routine.”

“Yeah, I know but does she have to drag us into her moments of temporary insanity?” Ron glanced up, looking around. “Did you see where she went? Maybe we can…” Ron’s words were cut off by the sound of someone laughing, quite hard, in the library. It was an unusual sound, for not many laughed in the library because of their tasks at hand. Ron stood up and followed the sound and stopped in front of a bookcase. He withdrew one of the books and peered through the crack. His eyes widened.

“The nerve of her!” He turned around and called out to his best friend. “Come look Harry, she’s chatting with that girl from breakfast on Monday. Look at her! And here we are working our arses off.” Harry got up from his seat and went over to the peer in the hole and indeed, a few feet away, were Hermione and that girl talking about something, the girl laughing hard, Hermione throwing in giggles every once in awhile. Ron pushed Harry out the way and looked through again. “Yup, that’s got to be her. Do you know her name?”

“Yeah, it was Christine Flew. She’s in Ravenclaw, I think.” Harry pushed Ron out of the way to get a better look. He watched as the conversation turned to more serious matters, Hermione leaning in close as Christine whispered something to her. Harry had seen Christine a couple of times in the hallway. He had wanted to say something to her, but he didn’t know why or what he would say. Therefore, he had done basically what Christine had done. Walked away as fast his feet would carry him. He sighed and moved out of the way for Ron. This is going to be a long year, he thought.

Since the beginning of the year, Harry had had that unnerving feeling that something was going to happen. He had his reasons to worry. There had been no known news of what Voldemort was planning. Not to mention, Harry hadn’t had any contact with him for an entire year. Luckily, the public had been alerted of You-Know-Who’s return. Fudge had been conveniently “kicked out,” as they say, of his position. A short election had been held and none other then Arthur Weasley had been elected, much to the delight of the Weasley family. Harry felt that Mr. Weasley deserved the post much more then Cornelius Fudge. Suddenly, Ron’s loud voice penetrated his thoughts.

“That’s how I know her! I thought I recognized her!” Harry stared as though Ron had just announced that he and Snape were to be married.

“Know who?” Harry asked, dumbfounded.

“That girl! You know, Christine Flew.” Ron’s face showed excitement. “Dad’s worked with her dad before. He’s some big-shot Auror from the States.” His face then contorted into annoyance at a memory. “I met her at some Ministry Christmas party, the year before I came to Hogwarts. She’s kind of strange. It’s rumored that she has the Dark Sense.”

“The Dark Sense?” A skeptical, Harry asked.

“Yeah. Supposedly, she can feel when a dark creature is nearby. Those kind of things aren’t uncommon in the children of Aurors though.” He grabbed his chin in thought. “If an Auror is given its powers and then has a baby, the Auror’s powers can give them weird side effects.”

“Auror’s powers?”

“Yeah. You know, powers that allow them to capture more easily, use special attack magic. That sort of thing. Cool, huh?

“I’ll say.” Harry just wanted to get the essay for Potions done before Hermione walked over again. “Come on, Ron, we go to get this essay done, or Hermione’ll be going on about it all weekend.” Ron scowled scornfully at the thought and Harry laughed but it was cut off abruptly, when a familiar head of blonde hair walked by, headed towards the back of the library where Christine and Hermione were. Great, he thought. Just what we need, Draco Malfoy.

* * * * *

“Well, well, well. What do have here?” a cold, familiar voice drawled. Christine stopped talking to Hermione as she heard the voice and then slowly turned her head. She recognized the voice. She didn’t know much about it, though. All she knew was that the voice belonged to a sixth year male who went by the name of Draco Malfoy. Christine knew he was the seeker for the Slytherin team and that his father had once been a suspected Death Eater, now under the assumption of acting as one for Voldemort during the current time. (Thank God Dad, didn’t catch me in his files…) Christine’s own father, Thomas Flew, was trying to compile enough evidence against Lucius Malfoy, for trial. Also, rather ashamed as she was to admit it, she had always found Draco Malfoy some- what attractive, though there had been this problem about attitude….

“Sod off, Malfoy.” Hermione retorted, evidently annoyed at Draco’s rude timing. Christine watched as he continued his slow, educated speech, as though unscathed by the comment.

“May I suggest that you learn some simple respect Mudblood? Or is that too hard for your Muggle-born mind to comprehend?” Christine shivered as she felt his cold silver-grey eyes shift to her. She had been perfectly content with being ignored, up to this moment. “Is this the Yank?” he asked coyly, as if expecting some sort of response. Christine just sat there unsure of how to respond, even she if chose too. “Speak up Yank!” he nearly shouted, causing both Christine and Hermione to jump.

Christine felt her mouth move into one of her father’s memorized Auror’s curses, but stopped herself. Daddy would be furious, her mind echoed. She quickly reverted to the well used ‘I don’t take a lot of crap’ method.

“If I recall,” she stated politely. “I do not have to respond, unless I choose too.” She waited to speak again until; Draco started to open up his mouth, to hurl another insult either towards her or Hermione. “Which I don’t.” Christine smiled slyly, as Draco’s face went red with anger.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Yank. You shouldn’t go around speaking to people like that, who are of a higher station then you. You don’t know what some people are capable of.” He moved rather close to her face, his own twisted into a sneer. “I, myself, am capable of much more then I let on. I could cast a curse on you, and you wouldn’t be able to even scream, because of the pain.”

Hermione snorted with silent mirth. “I’d like to see you try, Malfoy. I would really like to see you try.”

Draco, slowly turned his face away, from Christine’s, to look into Hermione’s. “Maybe you will,” he whispered quietly, though even in his concealment, you could see he was seething. Quickly, he took his wand out from the inner folds of his robe. “I’d gladly allow you to experience it first hand.” Christine’s own heart became frozen in her fear. With a father, for a Death Eater, no one knew what he was capable of. She turned to meet Hermione’s face, which had suddenly gone from annoyed, to fear stricken. Christine gulped. Slowly, she reached into her bag for her own wand, but before she even reached it, a head of red hair, and a figure with black glasses, appeared out of nowhere behind Draco, wands raised.

“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you, Malfoy.” Harry hissed.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, his face set in pure hatred. “Getting hit with four different curses isn’t exactly one of the most pleasant experiences. If you remember correctly.” He raised his wand, as if to show him he wasn’t afraid to perform one of those curses.

Harry gritted his teeth. “Malfoy, I’m going to give you to the count of ten to get out of here. If you’re still here…well, do I need to explain?”

Draco reluctantly lowered his wand. He obviously saw that four against one was not a fair game. He turned around to glare at Ron and Harry, and pushed past them, heading for the exit. Just before he left, he turned once more. “I’ll be back,” He said. “Don’t you doubt that.” He was gone before anyone could say anything.

* * * * *

Harry stuck his wand back inside his pocket, still fuming at the fact that Malfoy had the nerve to go and threaten two girls, one of them being his best friend, and the other being one that Draco had probably never even laid his eyes on. He couldn’t get it. With Hermione, he could find a reason why he had threatened her; he hated her. But then to go and do the same thing to someone he didn’t even know? Some things are just better left unknown, he thought.

The girls stood up from their seats, each wearing a different face. Hermione looked relieved that Malfoy was gone, but Christine's was…undistinguishable.

“So,” started Hermione. “I think that a ‘thank you’ is in order. She winked. “I think that’s the first time Malfoy ever turned down a fight, without his ‘body guards’ around.” She used her fingers to make quotes around the word ‘body guards’. Everyone laughed at the joke, except Christine, whose head was turned down, towards the floor.

Harry looked on at her worriedly. Had Malfoy managed to cast a cruse on her that he and Ron had missed?

“Are you all right?” he asked her apprehensively. Harry watched as Christine brought her eyes up from the floor, to peer into his own. He could see a spark of blind fury within them.

“I’m quite capable of defending myself, Mr. Potter.” She growled fiercely. With that much said, she turned and ran out of the library her bag in tow, leaving the others to stare after her in bewilderment.

“Nuts…that’s what she is.” Was all Ron could manage to say in the silence of the dark library.