Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

That day, Cyrna discovered her joy for flight.

And only days later, Cyrna was drifting across the cloudy evening sky, watching as a few birds fluttered out of the forest. She was alone. Daphne and Theodore had headed back to the common room with the other Slytherins, but Cyrna sincerely felt that she had enough to do without needing to add politicking to her to-do list. She'd gone into Slytherin expecting to go through school alone—she'd had study circles and 'friends' to look well-adjusted and normal, but she hadn't really needed them—then Daphne had appeared with Theodore as a package, and she had found herself with two more than expected. Adding in the three Gryffindors, and Cyrna felt that her social network was already expanding at an uncomfortable pace.

Because she wasn't at Hogwarts to make friends—especially not with most Slytherins. Not all of them would join Voldemort, but it seemed wasteful to her to spend her efforts on checking their backgrounds when she could easily do without them. Hogwarts was only a stepping stone. In the end, she would inevitably transfer to another school out of the country in the later years, or live like a hermit till the war blew over.

Cyrna lazed on her broom, taking a moment to appreciate the peace that came from the utter dearth of people. Feeling rather content, she softly hummed a simple melody. It wasn't one that she recognized, but she seemed to know it all the same.

The wind carried her voice, and she tilted her head to catch the echoes.

Aimlessly, her thoughts took a turn to her Potions class that had ended a few hours ago. Snape had seemed particularly unhappy today, and Cyrna had been half-amused by the sheer number of reasons Snape had found to punish Harry. Draco was also becoming more aggressive towards the boy. The rest of the Slytherins followed his lead, and it was often that she would catch Harry studying her, wondering if she would treat him differently one day.

She would. But not yet.

Cyrna wasn't one for guilt, so she didn't feel it. But she did spend more time planning how to gently break their friendship. There was no logic to causing unecessary pain, after all.

Her eyes narrowed in thought as she slowed to a stop, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

That was when she heard a weak nicker. It was distinctly horse-like. Cyrna frowned at the strangeness of being able to hear it with how high up in the air she was.

It was as if the wind had carried that sound to her.

Curious, Cyrna cautiously approached the sound—

"Help."

It wasn't a nicker this time. Rather, the voice was in her mind.

Cyrna stiffened in shock.

Then she noticed. Somehow during her landing, the birds and the critters had all but disappeared. Even the breeze had stilled—as if it held its breath. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Trusting her instinct, Cyrna slid her wand into her hand, her stomach queasy with unease when the sky chose this moment to darken. The grip on her broom whitened, and in a fluid motion, she swung onto her broom and prepared to take-off.

But then the most beautiful horse she had ever seen stumbled out of the Forbidden Forest.

No, it wasn't a horse.

Ice shot straight up her spin as blood drained from her face. It was a unicorn. An injured unicorn.

Silver liquid dripped down its flank as it lifted its eyes to meet hers, allowing her to catch full view of its horn and the sheen of sweat on its pearly white coat. "Help me… help me," it pleaded before it collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

Unicorns never left the forest. They hated humans, so why was it here—why had it led the monster to her? Cyrna trembled when she heard the branches snap. Footsteps.

"M-Miss Raine." The man lifted his hand to shield his eyes despite the sun being long gone. He looked at Cyrna with a smile that was a touch too wide. "W-what would a young l-lady like you be d-doing so far a-away from the c-castle?"

In that split second, Cyrna decided to land because while there was an advantage to being airborne, it also meant that all it would take was one good hit for her to come tumbling down. Cyrna did not know any spells that would let her land safely.

She slid off her broom, and with a deep breath, answered politely. "I was just flying around, Professor Quirrell." She kept her wand hand hidden in the sleeves of her robes as she examined him.

The man usually pretended to be a twitchy and nervous mess. But right now, his eyes held hunger. One so ravenous that they seemed to want to tear into her and swallow her whole. She held her breath—as if being still would make her invisible—and he slowly slid his gaze to the leaking wound on the unicorn. He swallowed visibly; eyes gleaming as a tongue darted out to lick his lips

The unicorn's eyes rolled in fright. "Mistress, run! Help—run! Mistress! RUN!"

It's cries devolved into nonsensical whinnies, but Cyrna didn't dare move.

Quirrell's eyes suddenly snapped back to her.

He wouldn't hurt her, right? Hadn't he been trying to keep a low-profile?

Lie, lie, lie.

Cyrna swallowed thickly. "I was going to offer it my aid, but since you're here, professor, I think I shall leave it to you. I'm going to head back for dinner."

Quirrell cocked his head, then his smile widened. "Ah, but Miss Raine, I've been wanting to talk to you for quite a while. You've caught someone's interest," he said in a strange voice—strange because he wasn't stuttering.

"Maybe we could have this talk another time?" She suggested, her heart drumming wildly. She held a shaky breath and she forced herself to appear concerned. "The unicorn will bleed out soon."

"No, no," Quirrell said breathily before his eyes were drawn back to the silver blood. He clutched his head with a wince. "Yes," he murmured. "The unicorn first."

"Run!" the unicorn urged her again.

Cyrna gave a careful shrug, and she lifted one trembling hand, rubbing the back of her neck in a sheepish manner. "Then I'll leave you to it. Good luck, professor?"

Please, please, please let me go. Every bit of her was hyperfocused on him. And that was why she noticed the twitch in his wrist—he was reaching for his wand. Her heart dropped, and Cyrna slowly, casually, inched her hand from the back of her neck to her sternum where her invisible portkey lay.

Perenelle had trained her well, but she wasn't going to test them against a DADA professor who was the vessel of Voldemort. She hoped it wouldn't come down to combat because even if she successfully survived, the remaining consequences would be equally terrible: report the assault immediately to Dumbledore and get Quirrell fired, and thus completely fuck over canon. Or, she would have to keep silent and have Quirrell haunt her for the rest of her year—which was incredibly dangerous and at that point, she may as well screw over canon because who cared about it if she was going die in her first year?

Quirrell prowled around the unicorn, closing in on her. He had his wand in plain view, and something about that smile told her that he was delighting in her fear. Muscles stiff, her heart leapt again as she accidentally stumbled back, and in that split second—just as Quirrell lifted his wand—her hand enclosed itself on the portkey.

"—And what," said a silky voice from the shadows behind her, "is happening here?"

Cyrna's heart stuttered to a halt as she paused midway through the word that would have activated her portkey. She knew that voice. She turned around, instinctively trusting them to protect her. And when she saw him, the fear that she had been desperately pushing down sprung to the forefront.

Snape's eyes widened. But she couldn't be sure because everything was a blur behind the shine of tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

"Professor Snape."

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