"Watch out!"
Christiane whispered fiercely to her best friend, Hayley Harper, who had just tripped over a loose cobblestone.
"Shh!" Hayley hissed back, impatiently.
The two girls were running through a tiny village in the English countryside, Hayley's brother's broomstick clutched between them.
"Are you sure Michael won't mind?" Hayley asked again, eying the Comet 150 racing broom apprehensively.
"It's alright if we borrow it for awhile," Christiane reassured her, dodging a puddle. "Besides, he doesn't have to know..."
"Why can't you just wait until you have permission to fly, anyway?" Hayley inquired.
"Are you mad? I'm lucky if I'll even touch a broom before I'm fifteen. Mum and Dad are so paranoid."
"I wonder why," Hayley muttered, with more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"Let's take off here," Christiane said breathlessly, ignoring her friend. She took the broom from Hayley and threw one leg over it. "Well, aren't you going to get on?"
"I'm going to be in so much trouble," Hayley moaned, straddling the broomstick nevertheless.
Christiane and Hayley kicked off the ground and soared into the air. Christiane closed her eyes in ecstasy as the cool summer breeze blew strands of curly red hair across her freckled face. She smiled happily as her stomach dropped to her knees. The wind also drowned out Hayley's frightened gasps.
"Wow, that was fascinating!" Hayley said after a few seconds, much too cheerfully. "Now, we can just land, putter on home, return the broom, and go to bed! Isn't that wonderful?"
"In a minute," Christiane muttered. "Let me try something..."
"Try something?!" Hayley sputtered.
"D'you see that pond down there?" Christiane asked, pointing.
"Yes, and it's bloody far down there, too!"
Christiane smiled and leaned into a steep dive. The Comet shot down towards the wet grass -- Hayley shrieked-- and then Christiane yanked it upward, the twigs barely brushing the water.
Christiane let out a long, ringing laugh. "That was amazing! That was..."
She glanced back at Hayley, who appeared speechless. She was looking at the ground in horror. Christiane followed her gaze, and gulped.
Two Muggles, pointing up at them, whispering excitedly.
"Crimeny," Christiane muttered. "Ah...well...we'd better be off then, huh?" She turned the broom around and flew, as fast as she could, back to Hayley's house.
The next morning, Christiane sat up and stretched. Her legs were a bit sore, but she smiled at the memory of her recent flight. However, her grin disappeared when Mercurius Charmont, Christiane's father, burst into her room.
"Ah, Christiane, you're awake." Without another word, he pushed a piece of newsprint into her hands. It was from the Daily Prophet.
MUGGLES SPOT FLYING CHILDREN
Two underage witches were reportedly seen on a broomstick by two Muggle women last night. The girls have not been identified, but were spotted outside Newbury. Parents are reminded that children younger than the age of twelve should be accompanied by an adult while flying.
"Well," said Christiane, "Must be a slow news week, eh?"
Her father's face was stern. "I don't suppose you know anything about this, Christiane?"
She shrugged nervously.
Mr. Charmont picked up one of Christiane's shoes, which she had left on the floor. The bottom was caked with mud and stained with grass.
"Well, maybe I do know something," Christiane admitted quickly. "It wasn't that big of a deal, Dad. It won't--"
Mercurius shook his head. "Will you ever learn, Christiane? With your parents working for the Ministry, your ancestors..."
Christiane rolled her eyes. When her father started in on the ancient Charmont line, she considered it her cue to tune him out.
"...some of the greatest witches and wizards of all time, what would they think if they saw you now? You have a reputation to uphold, Christiane! And then, you let some Muggles catch a glimpse of you? Really, what were you thinking? You should know better than that!"
"Sorry," Christiane mumbled.
"And we were worried about you, too," came a voice from the doorway. Elisabeth Charmont raised her eyebrows at her husband.
"Oh, of course." Christiane's father furrowed his brow. "But don't forget, we want you to go to Hogwarts this year, and you'll only be accepted if you behave properly."
"But--"
"And I think a fair punishment is in order," Mrs. Charmont added. "You're grounded for a week."
"Grounded?" Christiane was puzzled.
"No leaving the house, Christiane."
"But that's so...childish!"
"That's exactly how you acted last night," her father said dryly.
"I'm supposed to go over to Hayley's house today," she protested.
Her parents shrugged and left the room.
Christiane flopped on her bed, angrily. She was too far off the ground to jump, her mother's broom had been hidden after her last ride, and she didn't know enough magic to get herself out of the house.
Then, after a few minutes...
Tap. Tap.
Christiane sat up. A huge, red-brown owl was knocking itself against her window; it belonged to Hayley's family.
"Hercules!" Christiane sighed. She jumped up and opened the window. Hercules flapped around her room, hooting excitedly, and dropped a note on Christiane's shoulder. He then perched on her dresser, preening his auburn feathers.
Christiane unrolled the scrap of parchment.
Dear Christiane,
What happened? Did you get into trouble? I don't think my mum
and dad found out we were gone, but Michael looks awfully suspicious.
Are you still going to come over today? Please write back.
Hayley
Christiane shook her head and scribbled a message on the back of the note.
Got the standard lecture.
Can you believe that I'm grounded? It sounds so. . . Muggle. No,
I can't go to your house today. Sorry!
Christiane
P.S. We were in the Daily Prophet! But it's not the fame one would
want. Trust me.
She tied the scrap of parchment to Hercules' leg and sadly watched him fly out the window. Then she shrugged and sat down at her easel. If there was one thing that could calm Christiane Marie Charmont, it was her painting.
Christiane dipped her paintbrush into some gray paint and started swishing it across a fresh canvas. A stormy sky...she mixed in some black, visualizing a cloudy landscape...maybe a tiny white bird, struggling against the wind...
A great mass of red feathers smacked into her easel. The painting fell to the floor, a note dropped into a cup of brown paint, and Hercules landed on Christiane's head, cooing to himself.
Christiane pushed Hercules away disgustedly and picked up the note. It was almost covered in paint, but she could make out a few words...
Grounded? That's ridiculous!
Someimes your parents are a little too strict. Even for you!
We get our letters for Hogwarts next week. I'll bet Michael's
going to be a prefect this year. At least he thinks so. What does
the Prophet say? We...
Christiane squinted at the rest of the letter, but couldn't make it out. She longed to use the Clearing Charm that Michael had taught her, but decided against it...she was in enough trouble already.
Christiane cleaned up the mess, got dressed, and ran a brush through her frizzy hair. What am I supposed to do all day? she asked herself, angrily. Sit and knit?
Seven days passed slowly. Christiane spent her afternoons shut up in her room, producing scores of paintings and rearranging her furniture in seven different ways. She also refused to speak to her parents, who didn't seem to mind much...it happened often.
However, Christiane's mother entered her room a week later. Christiane's face was pressed to the window, scanning the sky for any sign of an owl.
"Waiting for the letter from Hogwarts, eh?" Elisabeth Charmont asked. Christiane shrugged, trying not to appear too excited...it was difficult.
"I did the same at your age," Mrs. Charmont sighed, sitting next to Christiane on the window seat. "So afraid I wouldn't be accepted! I have a feeling you will be, though, no matter what your father says."
Christiane looked up at her mum. "I hope so!"
Mrs. Charmont sighed. "Well, if you improve your behavior, get good marks, and stay out of trouble..."
Christiane rolled her eyes. Here we go again.
"...you'll be a fine asset to the school," Elisabeth finished.
"You know, mom, I'm really tired," Christiane said pointedly.
"Well," Mrs. Charmont shrugged, "Good night!"
Christiane slid down in the window seat as her mum left. Sometimes I wish they'd just shut up, she thought moodily.
Against her will, Christiane drifted off to sleep. The sky was still empty.
Christiane awoke with a crick in her neck and a letter in her lap. The latter she ripped open eagerly; it was printed in green ink on heavy paper. It must be the Hogwarts letter!
And indeed, it was.
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
~
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Charmont,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list
of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than
July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Christiane grinned and laid the notice on her dresser. She changed her clothes and skipped downstairs for breakfast.
"Hullo Mum, dad," she called as she slid into her seat at the small wooden table.
"Downstairs today, eh?" Mr. Charmont said good naturedly from behind the Daily Prophet. "Hope you've learned your..." He thought better of it and trailed off. "Right." Back to the paper.
"I got the notice from Hogwarts," Christiane announced as Mrs. Charmont piled toast on her plate.
"That's nice, dear," Mrs. Charmont said vaguely. She was staring off into the distance.
Christiane crossed her arms and slumped over the table. "Fine, then," she shrugged. "Well, I'm off to rob Gringotts and drink ten gallons of mead. See you soon!"
"That's..." Elisabeth blinked. "Pardon?"
"Never mind," Christiane shrugged and stood up.
"Oh, I'm sorry," her mother sighed. "Your father and I...we have a lot on our minds." She looked at Mercurius, who still had his nose buried in the paper. "Why don't you go out and play with Hayley?"
Christiane was both puzzled and curious. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but Mrs. Charmont shooed her out of the kitchen, pressing toast into her hands.
Hayley was on the porch of her small cottage, drinking pumpkin juice and reading a ten-Knut novel entitled "Madam Margerie and the Mysterious Man". Christiane rolled her eyes and opened the gate.
"Hayley!" she called. Her friend looked up and smiled.
"Week's over, isn't it?" Hayley asked. "Oh, we got our letters this morning! Michael's a prefect, and he won't shut up about it."
Christiane laughed and sat on the porch railing. "My mum and dad are acting strange. Last night, Mum was so excited about Hogwarts. This morning, she looked as if she'd never heard of the place! And Dad's been reading the Prophet like mad. I couldn't see what he was looking at, though."
Hayley shrugged. "Parents are weird." Then she brightened. "Mum and Dad are taking me shopping for my Hogwarts things tomorrow. Maybe you can come!"
"Sure!" Christiane exclaimed. "All my parents want to do in Diagon Alley is talk. I'll probably end up buying my things alone, anyway."
Just then, Michael came out of the house. He was wearing his old school robes, a shining Prefect badge pinned to the front.
"Christiane!" he smiled, striking a pose. "Ravenclaw's newest prefect, Michael Joseph Harper."
Christiane's mouth twitched. "Michael, you have jam on your nose."
Michael glared at her and wiped at his face.
"You don't have a middle name, either," Hayley informed him.
Michael flung his hands in the air and stalked back into the house. Hayley and Christiane snickered.
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope it's not with him," Hayley said.
"What house do you think we'll be in, anyway?" Christiane asked.
Hayley frowned. "I don't think you'll know until you put the Sorting Hat on. It's this hat that tells people what house they should be in."
"Oh," Christiane said thoughtfully.
"Hayley, are you out there?" Mr. Harper called from inside. "Your breakfast is ready!"
Christiane stood up. "Well, I'll ask my parents about tomorrow. See you then!"
Christiane ran back through the village to her house, jumping over cracks and skipping through the gutter.
Christiane clinked her coins together in the pocket of her robes. It was the following morning, and she was standing in front of the Harpers' fireplace, watching Hayley's mother pull a vat of Floo Powder off the mantel.
Mrs. Harper was short and bright-eyed, with curly brown hair and a friendly smile. She always seemed ready to help someone; instinct, Christiane guessed, since she worked at a wizarding hospital outside the village.
"All right, ready?" Paula Harper gave her children and Christiane handfuls of Floo Powder. "Remember, we'll meet at your father's store when you're done shopping." Mr. Harper worked in a Potion Supply Shop on Diagon Alley.
"I'll leave first," Michael announced importantly. He stepped into the fireplace, shouted "Diagon Alley!" as if he was extremely bored, and then shot out of sight. His sister and Christiane giggled.
"Now, now," Mrs. Harper admonished. "Go ahead, you two. I'll see you at the Potions Emporium, alright?"
"Sure, Mum," Hayley said over her shoulder. She flung a handful of sparkling powder into the fireplace and climbed in. "Diagon Alley!"
Christiane was close behind her, tucking in her elbows and calling out the name of the biggest wizard shopping center in the world. She shot up the chimney and into a world of green fire; she was spinning, twisting, turning over and over...
Suddenly, she tumbled out of a fireplace into the Diagon Alley Owlery, a place she had never landed in before. Christiane stood up, spitting feathers; scores of irate owls were flapping in her face. Hayley was standing nearby, doubled over with laughter.
"It's not funny!" Christiane insisted, pushing an excited white owl away from her.
A skinny boy was yelling at them. "Oy, you! Get outta there!"
Christiane and Hayley ran out onto the sunny street of Diagon Alley, giggling madly. After they had caught their breath, Christiane reached over and pulled a few feathers from Hayley's thick brown hair.
"Alright," Hayley said, "where should we go first?"
Christiane pulled the list of required items from her robes and looked at it. "Er...first years aren't allowed their own broomsticks, but we could go look..."
Hayley sighed. "Is that really all you think about? C'mon, let's go and get our Hogwarts robes first."
"Oh, alright," Christiane agreed. They ran down the crowded streets of Diagon Alley together, laughing and jumping over loose cobblestones.
Christiane held out her arms as Madame Malkin pinned a long black robe above her ankles. Hayley was leaning against the wall, fingering the material of her own robes.
After a few minutes, Christiane hopped off the stool and twirled in a circle. "Ta-daa!"
The two girls paid for their robes and bustled out onto the street again. As they stepped out of Madame Malkin's, they smacked into a tall, dark-haired boy.
"Watch it!" he sneered. His eyes were a cold, steely gray.
"Watch yourself," Christiane sniffed. "You don't own this street!"
"Shove off, Charmont," the boy said darkly. "I heard about you...family reject, right?"
Christiane threw herself at the thin boy, knocking him out into the middle of the street. He tripped over a box of snakeskins sold by two tiny witches and fell into a dirty gutter. Christiane leaned over him.
"Leave...me...alone," she said menacingly.
The boy looked at her angrily before pulling himself up and striding away, muttering under his breath.
"Christiane!" Hayley exclaimed. "What are you doing?!"
"What a jerk," Christiane said simply, rubbing her arm. "Who was that, anyway?"
"Him? Christiane, that's Derek Smailes!"
"And...?"
"His father owns the Gringotts bank of London!"
"So what? He's still a jerk."
Hayley looked amazed. "Really, Christiane! He's probably starting Hogwarts this year! He's got it in for you, that's for sure."
Christiane shrugged. "Oh, well. I still think he's a jerk..." She pointed across the street. "There's Ollivander's! Think we should go for our wands now?"
Hayley rolled her eyes. "I guess..."
The tiny shop looked like it was being crowded off the street by the two large buildings on either side. Christiane pulled the door open and they both stepped inside.
The interior was dark and dusty. There were shelves upon shelves of boxes of wands, and one chair in the middle of the room.
Standing next to this chair was a girl with long black hair. She was waving a wand through the air, sending up purple sparks.
"That's it," Mr. Ollivander smiled. He was a short man, and Christiane hadn't seen him until now. "Perfect...eleven inches, yew, phoenix feather."
The girl fished a handful of coins out of her pocket and handed them to Mr. Ollivander, who bowed as he watched her leave. The girl smiled at Christiane and Hayley as she opened the door.
"Ah, who's next?" Mr. Ollivander asked. The two girls shuffled forward nervously.
"I'll go first!" Christiane volunteered. She stepped up to the little man, who was taking a silver tape measure from the chair. This he tossed into the air; it immediately began measuring Christiane's forearms, hands, fingers...and ears.
"All right, then," Mr. Ollivander murmured. He was pulling a handful of wands out of a box. Christiane took one.
"Ten inches, mahogany, with one unicorn hair," Mr. Ollivander announced. "Go on, swish it through the air..."
Christiane brought the wand down sharply. Nothing happened.
"Well, that's not it...here, try this one, nine and a half inches, birch, phoenix feather..."
Christiane swished this through the air also, but Mr. Ollivander shook his head. Nothing seemed to make him happy. After about ten minutes, however, his glowing eyes lit up. "No...this must be it..."
Christiane watched as Mr. Ollivander pulled a wand from a dusty box on the floor. He handed it to her proudly. "Ten inches, sandalwood, phoenix feather and dragon heartstring."
Christiane picked the wand up and lifted it in the air. She swiftly pulled it over her head, sending up purple mist and blue sparks.
"Excellent!" Mr. Ollivander smiled.
Now Christiane stood back and watched as Hayley started waving wands through the air. In nearly a minute, she had found the right one -- "Nine and a half inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair."
They paid Mr. Ollivander and walked out of the shop, swishing their wands around.
"There's Flourish and Blotts," Hayley pointed out. "Best place to get books, isn't it?"
"You never slow down, do you?" Christiane teased.
Flourish and Blotts was full of witches and wizards, pulling books off the walls and discussing them loudly. Hayley and Christiane had to wait in line for almost half an hour before they could ask for help.
"We need books for Hogwarts," Christiane explained. She handed her list of equipment to the stockboy, who began reading it aloud.
"The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade One...we have that, over here..."
As they followed the pimply boy around the bookshop, Christiane and Hayley could examine The History Of Transylvania: A Biting Tale, Simple Potions for Simple People, and Modern Curses of the Wizarding World.
When they were finished, Christiane could scarcely carry her stack of books out of the shop. However, that didn't stop her from dragging Hayley over to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
The window display held the new Nimbus Five Hundred racing broom, which many were admiring.
"I would kill for a broom like that," Christiane murmured, pressing her hands against the glass.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Hayley said lightly. "I mean, it's just a broom."
Christiane sighed. "You don't get it...flying...it's..." she trailed off. If her mother's Traveler and Michael's Comet were fast, then what about the Nimbus?
"Come on," Hayley persuaded. "We have to get to the Potions Emporium to buy our supplies, anyway. Let's go!"
Christiane let Hayley lead her down the street to Mr. Harper's shop. Hayley's father, a tall, bearded wizard, was sweeping the sidewalk outside.
"There you two are!" he beamed. "You mum is waiting for you, Hayley. Christiane, how are you? Got your wand, have you?"
Christiane swished it through the air.
"Ah, wonderful. I'll help you two get your things."
Hayley and Christiane followed Mr. Harper inside, where he pulled a few bottles off the shelves and examined them. Some jars, he would replace; some, he would tuck under his arm.
Soon, Mr. Harper had a stack of assorted bottles and jars. "These are just your basic potion ingredients...lizard scales, beetle eyes, toad's blood..."
Christiane wrinkled her nose as Mr. Harper piled everything on top of her books and added a pair of gloves and a set of scales. Hayley had to reach into Christiane's pocket for her to get what was left of her money out.
"Thanks, Mr. Harper," Christiane said.
"You're welcome..."
"Ahem!" Mrs. Harper interrupted her husband. She was standing by the fireplace of the shop. "Darryl, it's getting late. Michael already left."
"Why am I not surprised?" Hayley asked.
Mrs. Harper ignored her. "Come on, now...into the fireplace..." She pushed them onto the hearth and held out a jar of Floo Powder. "Take a pinch, now..."
Christiane tossed some Powder into the fireplace with her free hand and stepped in. "Newbury Row!"
Then, she was turning over and over, hurling back to the village.
Author's Note: Whew, hope you guys liked that one! Christiane is one of those characters that just likes to shout, "Write about me! Write about me!" By the way, Christiane will be in her seventh year at Hogwarts when Harry is ten. Just some background info!
Oh, and here's a short pronunciation guide...
Christiane = Chris-tee-ann
Charmont = Shar-mont
Smailes = Smay-ulls
Well, that's about it! Please
review, any feedback is greatly appreciated!