Christopher was alone in his compartment. It was his fifth year at Hogwarts, and despite being a Hufflepuff, he hardly had any friends. He had never quite understood why.... Well, actually he did. That didn't mean he had to like it.
Since he was a pureblood of a long, long line of Slytherins his parents weren't exactly thrilled when he was sorted into Hufflepuff.
They were disgusted, in fact.
So very much so, that not a single letter had been sent to him by them unless it was telling him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. Not that he cared anymore. His parents were bigoted idiots, in his opinion, and thus what they thought of him was worthless.
At least, that's what he made himself think.
Anyway, to the more relevant point. He hadn't any friends because the people in Hufflepuff always thought that he was some sort of Slytherin spy who worked for Voldemort, and somehow managed to fool the hat into sending him to Hufflepuff. A fine example of the Hogwarts rumor mill, that is.
The Slytherins hated him as well. They saw him as a traitor, and laughed at him for being in the 'weakest' house. Of course, they were wrong, but the value of truth seemed only to decrease these days.
Gryfindor thought so etching along the lines of Hufflepuff. Since he came from a line a Slytherins, and the Hufflepuffs didn't trust him, then he must work for Voldemort! This truly was a good effort shown by all the houses to try and uncover the truth.
Finally, The Ravenclaws mostly thought of it logically, and thus saw that being friends with Chris could only be a disadvantage as no one liked him. That, and the sheer fact that two of the other houses didn't trust him, and what good was one's word against fifty-some others?
So he had very little friends. He was kind to everyone, saying 'good morning' and 'hullo' to all who cared to look at him. It wasn't effective.
The Marauders had never met him, but they were sure to have known about the rumors. His chances with them were somewhere between zero and negative five. Severus probably had a bias against him, but they had never talked.
His entire social life never existed because of rumors.
Back to the current situation. He was in his compartment alone. In his lap was a book with a parchment against it. In his left hand was a quill. The quill was scribbling down something... But he wasn't looking at it. Christopher's head was leaned back, staring at the ceiling, and his eyes were rolled back. Only the white of his eyes could be seen.
This lasted twenty seconds more before he snapped out of the trance, his whole body collapsing forward. The quill fell out of his hand, barely missing the prefect's badge on his robes. He pulled himself up, rubbing his temples slowly to relieve the headache he now had. He opened his eyes just enough to see what he had written on the parchment. He stared at it for a moment before hastily folding it and hiding it in his robes.
That would be an interesting read for later. Luckily he had closed the curtain of the compartment beforehand, so no one had seen. Another benefit: they didn't need him to go with the other prefects, so he had this time to practice that spell. Though, he wasn't prepared for that headache.
Suddenly, the train stopped and he realized that they had arrived. ah... Not good. he thought, stuffing his things into his bag.
