Dedicated to Prongs, Lix, and Michelle. Own nothing!
It was a particularly drizzly night in Paris. The cloaked figure stepped into the door of the pub and took seat at the bar beside another black cloaked figure. Black gloved, bony fingers tapped the bar to gain the attention of the bar keep. "Whiskey," the voice demanded from beneath the hood, shadows from the lights dancing underneath it. That voice could have told you a life story. It was smooth but still edgy, uncaring, and seemed but human at all. Those fingers tapped the counter eventually coming in rhythm with the now pouring rain. A dewy dance, if you will. He took the glass right from the bar keeper's hands and downed the drink in one swift movement. "Another," the voice demanded, his French accent echoing in the empty air of the pub.
The second cloaked figure fingered a thin wooden rod in his pale hands, painted white with a curled lip as if to assist the fingers in holding it. "Accio," he muttered, and a small shot of liquor slid down the counter, right under the first figure's arms. "What's with you?" His voice was quite cold, burning cold. He had a heavy English accent.
"I'd rather not say, Monsieur."
"Oh, come! I am sure that this will not leave this counter."
"Alright, Monsieur." He looked up and for an instant, glowing yellow eyes met vibrant red. The first figure pulled another rod of wood from his cloak, painted deep black. "Flagrate," he murmured, red stripes spilling from the rod, creating a fiery scene before them as if they were now spun inside the tale. A stunning woman appeared in the flames, golden hair cascading down her back, blue eyes gleaming. "I met a truly beautiful woman one day, well not really met, more saw. Her father had just passed promising her an Angel. I became her tutor. I took a chance, months ago. I took her to my home and trapped her there. Mere days ago, she left me for another man after I freed her. She kissed me. That's my tale. Now, yours." The fiery marks dissipated along with the scenes.
"Flagrate," the fire unfurled itself. An eleven-year-old boy looked at them. His jet black hair a mess, bright green eyes searching, and in the centre of his forehead, a lightning bolt scar. "There was a year old boy I had tried to murder. I failed somehow. I have almost gotten my hands on him multiple times but each time he escapes. I will get him this year!"
"I would not say that, Monsieur. I believed my plan invincible but my one friend betrayed me. He led them away and left me to die." Giving in, the man pulled down his hood. The man's face swam in black silk, a few strands of black behind his ears and upon his forehead. He reached behind his head and undid the small string that held on the mask. He laid the silk on the counter and pulled the transparent false nose from his face. When he looked up again, the man next to him had removed his hood. He was completely bald with snake-like features. The two stared at each other for an instant.
"Lord Voldemort!"
"The Phantom!" They yelled in unison. The Phantom sprung from his stool, knocking it over, his cloak falling behind him as Lord Voldemort did the same. Their wands pointed upon each other, they circled the pub. "Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!" They yelled. The green streak hit the wall behind the Phantom as he dodged it in milliseconds. The red streak ricocheted off of the phoenix feather wand and broke the glass of the pub's window. They went for it again. The green and red sparks flew, ricocheting off walls, wands and the counter. Each one the Phantom dodged. Each one Lord Voldemort deflected. "I'm here, the Phantom of the Opera!" Lord Voldemort spun on his heel to find no one behind him. A red streak flew at him from his left and he deflected it in time to see those glowing yellow eyes. He jumped through the window after the receding shape. He cast more killing curses, the Phantom dodging them effortlessly. "Fiendfyre!" The shadow yelled. Lord Voldemort looked upon the sky to see burning animals plunging at him through the ended storm. Jaguar, panther, tiger, bear, wolf, bison! Too many animals to count! They all plunged at once.
The Phantom looked upon the dissipating fiendfyre. The lifeless body of Lord Voldemort lay before him, his cloak charred. The figure coughed and stirred. He resumed stance and threw more spells. The Phantom dodged them, once again. He threw more complicated spells. "Levicorpus! Sectumsempra! Petrificus Totalus!" None of them worked as Lord Voldemort deflected them and the Phantom dodged his own spells.
"Erik!" The Phantom let his guard down and turned to see a short, blonde woman running up to him. He deflected another killing curse as she ran to him.
"Christine! Get back! He'll kill you if you don't!" He ducked and pulled her down with him, dodging a green streak by millimetres.
"Erik, what's going on?" She begged, pulling at his grey trench coat. He deflected a spell that was aimed for the woman.
"Don't you dare try that again!" Erik yelled over the, now whipping, winds. He threw more disarming charms, pulling Christine behind him.
"Erik, please tell me what's going on! I love and care for you, tell me what's going on!" Christine demanded as they continued to back down the street. Erik paused for a split second at what she said. But, that split second was not wasted.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Erik stiffened into a soldier's pose, his wand dropping. Christine gasped and lowered him as he fell back toward her. She kneeled and laid his head on her lap. Her large white trench coat covered both of them as she pulled him closer and wept. She looked up as she heard the other man's footsteps approaching.
"What have you done to him?" Her voice cracked. "Why have you killed him? He never did anything to harm you." He pointed his wand at the centre of her forehead.
"I believe you should only worry about what I am going to do to you, muggle. I could kill you here and now but I don't feel up to it at the moment. Petrificus Totalus!" Christine felt her body go rigid and she fell back onto the pavement, Erik's body next to her.
When Christine woke she found herself in quite a queer room. The walls were painted cream, the carpet dark gray, a small window was above her head, golden light beginning to blink through the dark curtains. A dark wood table sat next to her bed with strange candies placed atop it. She pulled her hands out from the folds of the red sheets and spun the knob on the lamp to turn it on. Where was she? What happened? She searched her mind. Erik and the cloaked man flashed in her mind. A duel of lights and sparks. She had professed her love for Erik and that had gotten him killed. The tears burned in her eyes and she let them flow down her cheeks. She swung her feet off the side of the bed, the blue hospital gown restricting her movement unlike her t-shirt and jeans. Christine sobbed a bit harder and the door to the left of her bed opened. She spun around to see a woman entre. Her hair was pulled back loosely and her eyes softened when she saw the weeping girl. She wore long blue robes and looked a little older than Christine.
"Miss? Are you alright? How do you feel?" The woman sat beside Christine and pulled a strange bottle out of her white apron pocket. She poured the fizzing blue liquid into a smaller cup and handed it to Christine. "Are you going to answer?" She asked softly. Christine gulped down the liquid. It seemed to disappear as soon as it touched her tongue.
"Madame, I am afraid I'm not alright." Christine said through her tears. "I don't even know what happened. Where is he? Erik? Where is he?" She asked frantically.
"Calm down. Don't get yourself to worked up. Let's start with names. Then tell me what you remember. My name is Madame Pomfrey. I came to France for the summer and found you and another man on the road. I brought you to the nearest magical place I could think of, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."
"What?" Christine cocked her head.
"You are a muggle then." Madame Pomfrey sighed. "See, I am a witch and you have found yourself in quite the predicament. Now, tell me what you remember."
"My name is Christine Daaé. I was out, most likely the night you found me, looking for a friend whom I decided I had strong feelings for. I found him. There was another man, red eyes, bald, snake-like features. He wore a long, dark cloak. They were pointing, I would assume, wands at each other. My friend, Erik, told me to flee but I did not listen and I accidentally told him I love him, costing him his life." Christine began to sob harder. A tissue was pressed into her hand and she dabbed her eyes.
"There is someone who devastated the wizarding world. We dare not speak his name and I fear you encountered him. You are very lucky to have gotten away with your life. He hates muggles and muggle-born wizards. Muggles are non-magical folk, like yourself." She added, seeing Christine's evident confusion at the phrase. "You've been out for nearly three days and your friend has yet to wake up. I am afraid I must tend to our other patient. I will let you know when he wakes. For now, I recommend you eat some of this chocolate. There were Dementors, magical creatures that suck out every happy thought, where I found you two and chocolate will make you feel better." Madame Pomfrey disappeared through the door.
After the woman left, Christine looked through the candies on her bed stand to pass the time. Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. There was enough candy here to last her a lifetime. She opened a Chocolate Frog and grabbed it before it hopped away. She was both repulsed and intrigued by the chocolate. Christine took a bite from it and it stopped squirming in her hand. She finished it off and went to throw the box back on her stand when she noticed a card in it. She pulled it out. On the card was a man in pale blue robes with long white hair and beard. He smiled at her through half-moon spectacles. She flipped the card over. Albus Dumbledore. She flipped it back over to find him gone. She looked at the card curiously, flipping it over and over. He still didn't reappear. Christine laid back on the cot and soon fell asleep, the multicoloured sparks flying before her.
"Miss Daaé, your friend has awoken." Christine darted up at those words.
"Take me to him," she said frantically. Madame Pomfrey handed Christine her t-shirt and jeans and she changed quickly. Madame then lead her to another room of the hospital wing. Christine nearly collapsed at the sight of her Erik. She pulled a chair up next to his bed and held his cold, bony hand in hers. He was without a shirt and deep gashes laced his skeletal arms and chest. He turned his head slightly at her warmth. A small smile twisted his thin lips as she kissed his pale knuckles.
"Christine," his voice cracked, it's usual smooth tone gone.
"Erik," Christine leaned over him and kissed his bare forehead. At long last, a pink tinge filled his paper white cheeks and Christine laughed. Erik smiled wider to show his ivory teeth. Madame Pomfrey hurried back in with a strange green liquid in a flask.
"Do I have your consent?" Erik nodded weakly and his grip on Christine's hand tightened when the sickening green liquid was poured over his chest and arms. Christine's hand was beginning to loose colour by the time his grip loosened. The wounds healed themselves and Erik was beginning to look paler than usual. Madame Pomfrey tossed a chocolate bar onto his bedside stand. "Dementors," she explained. "Have him eat that chocolate." Christine pulled her hand from his grasp to open the chocolate bar and break off a piece. She held it close to his hand and he took it and ate it. They then split the bar halfway and savoured the rich sweet.
"How do you feel, Erik?" Christine muttered softly.
"Still a little dizzy. I presume she told you where we are and what I am."
"Yes, she did. Is the dizziness caused by those Dementor things she keeps talking about?"
"Indeed. Why did you come back to me?" That hurt. Christine took a shaky breath.
"I couldn't tolerate Raoul anymore and he decided to go up to the North Pole. I had no one else to go to and that's when I realized my feelings for you."
"Will you still accept me knowing what I am?"
"Of course! Just because one is different, does not mean one cannot be loved." Christine stroked his cheek gently. "Why isn't Madame Pomfrey afraid of your face?"
"She is a nurse. I am sure she's seen worse come from Harry Potter." Christine looked at him quizzically. "I will elaborate further later. For now, have her bring my clothes and we will go from there."
A half hour later, Christine was permitted to entre Erik's part of the hospital wing. She sat next to him on his cot as Madame Pomfrey went about cleaning up and they both explained the tale thus far of Harry Potter. Christine noticed that every time Erik said Lord Voldemort that Madame Pomfrey winced as if she had been struck. Erik ignored her. In an hour Erik and Madame Pomfrey finished their story and Erik was given his clothes back. Christine left the room and when Erik emerged she nearly blushed. He wore black boots, black dress pants and a belt, a black button-up, a black vest and a white bow tie. A deep black wig was neatly slicked back over his head and a white porcelain mask covered his face. His gray trench coat rested over his arm. Madame Pomfrey stopped the pair at the door. "And just where do you think you're going, Professor?"
"Poppy, I assure you I can take care of myself. You go check those records and see how many times I've landed myself here."
"I never gave you my first name and you are staying here until you are fully recovered."
"Poppy!" Erik snapped as she opened the door for Christine and nudged her through. Erik followed her out and slammed the door. He held out his hand to her and she took it. He led her through dark stone corridors and large rooms. Soon, they came upon a larger room of marble floor with robed figures gliding about. Erik sighed before he led Christine down the staircase. Multiple figures stopped to look at the two. "Professor Destler, what is the meaning of this?" Shouted a woman who was two times the size of a normal human. Erik, as intimidating as he was, shrunk away slightly and Christine had to suppress a giggle as she followed suit.
"M-m-madame Maxime! What a pleasant surprise!" Erik stuttered. "T-t-this is Christine. She is a good friend of mine and I-I-I-I am sure you heard about the incident with L-l-l-lord Voldemort."
"How could I not? Magic or muggle?" Erik tried to respond but with a sharp glare shut his mouth.
"Muggle, Madame." Christine said a little to sternly.
"Professor! How dare you perform magic in from of a muggle!"
"I-it was self-defence and she snuck up on me! I-I didn't know she was there! Did you expect me to not defend myself or my woman from the Dark Lord?"
"Fine. I'll give you that. Any more slip ups and you're gone, Professor." Madame Maxime retreated up the staircase opposite the two. A rough grinding echoed down and Christine looked up to see the stairs above them moving.
"Wow," she muttered. She turned back to Erik. "Professor?"
"Yes, I am a professor." Erik held out his hand to her and they headed off again. The next time they stopped they stopped in front of a dead end.
"Erik?" Christine said accusingly.
"Yes?" He said as he rubbed his fingers in intricate patterns over the stone.
"What are you doing?"
"Unlocking my classroom door. Really? You're gonna make me do it with my wand? Oh come on!" Erik kicked the bottom of the wall aggressively. "In front of Christine? Really? Playing hard to get? Well we'll see about that!"
"Professor Destler?" A voice squeaked behind them. Erik turned around and softened as an eleven-year-old in long blue robes darted down the hall. "Is your door misbehaving again?" Erik nodded and the girl noticed Christine. "Oh, hello! I'm Mely! What's your name? Wait, don't answer. Professor, can I try the spell on her?"
"No." Erik said with finality. "This is Christine." Mely gave a small bow and Christine playfully returned it.
"I came for my tutoring, Professor."
"Not today, Mely. I'm busy." Mely gracefully bounced back down the hall. "Now, back to the matter at hand." Erik reached down into his boot and grabbed out his wand. He pointed it at the centre of the wall. "Alohomora revelio." Christine watched as the wall vanished. "Quick, quick." Erik nudged her through and followed just as the stone replaced itself. Christine looked in wonder around the classroom. Desks all sat in neat rows, a few chairs pulled out. Tall arched windows covered one wall which was covered in black curtains. The room was a mix of gold, yellow, and bronze that shone all around. A small balcony and staircase was on the far end. The room was exceedingly large compared to any classroom she had ever seen. Hanging off the banister of the balcony was a banner displaying a red framed black raven with Sournois scripted below it. Erik followed her gaze.
"I am head of Sournois house and I see no harm in posting a banner displaying the house crest. If you will excuse me I will be right back. Just don't touch anything." Erik vanished through the door on the balcony and Christine wandered aimlessly around the room. Up on shelves were strange knick knacks and whirling tops. Erik tapped her shoulder minutes later. He was now wearing long black robes and a black mask. Over his heart was, she assumed, the Sournois house crest. "I have someone I would like you to meet. She is the Muggle Studies professor and she would adore talking to you. Her name is Professor Shuler but I am sure you will reach first name status in minutes." Erik led Christine back through the palace. Truth be told, Professor Shuler and Christine had an extensive conversation about the functions of a rubber duck until Erik pulled Christine away to meet the other professors. They all found the muggle quite intriguing. They eventually found their way back to Erik's classroom.
"You still never told me what you teach."
"Fine. I will give a proper introduction. My name is Professor Erik James Destler, Order of Merlin Second Class. I teach Potions, Dueling, and Defence Against the Darkest Arts and I am Assistant Headmaster and Head of Sournois House all at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. I am also a skilled swordsman, composer, musician, ventriloquist, illusionist, carpenter, architect, designer, impresario, inventor, and artist. Happy now?" Christine nodded and had him explain what everything meant. The next day, Christine settled into Erik's apartment and the rest of their days were spent with Christine cleaning and Erik composing and planning out lessons before the school year started up again on September 1st.