Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

Cyrna ducked her head to conceal her expression. Both professors were utterly silent as she scuffed her shoe on the ground, acting as if she was both incredibly embarrassed and ashamed of what she would say next. Very meekly, she added. "I-I was already really nervous, and his sudden action startled me. Really badly. I thought he... I know it doesn't make sense, but I thought for a moment that he was going to force me to speak with him—I'd still rather not," she whispered then briefly locked eyes with Quirrell's, channelling all her fear into apprehension. "I-I'm sorry."

Eventually, Quirrell chuckled, breaking the standstill.

"N-no, Miss Raine. M-my apologies for startling you. I had only wanted to s-s-speak to you about your recent work. P-perhaps I should have a-asked after our n-next class instead."

Goosebumps broke across her flesh at the promise of a next meeting, but she pressed on. "So the unicorn? Can you..."

Quirrell tucked his wand away, and approached her. Ignoring Snape, who tensed and jabbed Quirrell's neck in silent warning, he leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I-I don't believe there is anything I c-can d-do for the creature now. It's unfortunate, but it's a bit too close to d-death," he said, glancing at the still body. "B-but Miss Raine," he breathed in a hushed, sibilant whisper, "d-death is not something everyone must fear."

"And just what might you be trying to imply?" Snape intervened sharply.

Quirrell rose and backed away. "N-nothing of course, S-Severus. Well! If there is nothing else for me to d-do here, I'd best be back for d-dinner, and you'd b-best hurry b-back too, Miss Raine. Perhaps we can meet another t-time." He gave a strange twitch of his hand as goodbye before departing hastily across the field to the castle without a second glance at Snape.

Cyrna fought down a shiver, and Snape may have been a statue with how still he was.

The moment Quirrell completely disappeared from view, Cyrna was forcefully spun around to face her Head of House.

"Aiding illicit acts results in severe punishment if anyone finds out, and believe me, I will find out," he spat before she could fully regain her wit. "What idiocy has those Gryffindor friends of yours planted into your head—why, did you perhaps see the good in Quirinus?" he sneered. "A blind fool would have known that he was up to nothing good, and you are no fool," he said in a dangerously quiet voice. "What are you playing at, Miss Raine?"

"Self-preservation, actually, sir," she hissed.

Snape turned incandescent with rage—like he wanted to torch her right then and there.

But Cyrna was wrung out, and at this moment, was past caring. Her emotions were in an utter disarray from how close she had been to danger—maybe not death, in retrospect, but... fuck. She'd done the best she could to save canon, but what if it wasn't enough?

Had she ruined everything already?

Terror griped her.

"Mistress, please."

Surprise snapped her out of her turmoil, and she latched on to that diversion to distract her from her fear. From Snape's expression, it seemed like he hadn't heard the voice. So why could she? And why 'Mistress'?

The unicorn pleaded again, and something seemed to tighten painfully around her heart—like a marionette with strings, she stumbled forward towards the dying beast, and gasped sharply in relief when the pain eased. She pressed a hand against her chest, noting the agitated rhythm. "What did you do?" she tried to think towards the beast, eyes narrowed in anger.

But it only begged, "Please."

Slowly, pressure began to build behind her eyes. Her throat constricted, and to her bewilderment, she felt tears rolling down her cheeks. Her breaths shortened and she ached for its suffering. A small part of her was terribly bewildered because she couldn't, rationally, be sad about its death. Cyrna lifted a hasty hand to wipe away the tears. But they spilled even faster, and her heart felt like it had been ripped into two—

"W-why?" she gasped, uncertain if she was questioning the injustice of its death or the emotional outburst she found herself in.

Cyrna flinched when potion-stained fingers covered her eyes. It was like a switch had flipped, and she was immediately aware of the foreign emotions that had been forced upon her. Slowly, she turned away from the now obstructed view. Professor Snape watched her with inscrutable eyes.

"Do yourself a favour and don't look a dying unicorn in the eye."

Feeling off-kilter, she turned to stare at the ground as she struggled to regain her equilibrium. When her eyes finally stopped leaking, when breaths returned to normal, Cyrna remembered with a bit of shame that Snape had helped her yet again. And all she had done in return was snap at him. She flushed, and after chewing on her apology for another minute, said, "I'm sorry about earlier, professor."

"And five points have been deducted from Slytherin because of that," Snape said coolly, his hand dropping back to his side. "Do it again, and you will be serving detentions. Is that understood, Miss Raine?"

Cyrna nodded meekly.

"Then if you've looked your fill on bloodshed, I would suggest we head back before I am forced to deduct another five points from Slytherin for breaking curfew."

"Back inside—but professor, can't you heal it?"

....

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