Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

They were less than a week into school, and Cyrna was certain that if she heard another student sigh dreamily at Draco while he bragged, she was going to have to submit herself to the wizarding equivalent of a psychiatrist because she could feel her will to live slowly draining.

As if on cue, a large eagle-owl with sleek feathers glided into the Great Hall towards Draco who gave it a sharp whistle to drop the package. "Oh, it's from my mother again," he said as he hadn't already known this would happen. When he felt there was enough attention on him, he opened the package, revealing a generous variety of expensive sweets that he gracefully handed out to the students around him.

Cyrna slumped onto the dining table with a small whimper, burying her head in her arms as she tried to muffle out the pandering happening in the background. Maybe it was time to study spell crafting. If Snape could make Muffliato, then she'd surely be able to make a spell that did the opposite?

Daphne looked far more unaffected, but there was a slight twitch in her brow.

"Makes you wonder what they would do if Malfoy suddenly up and left Hogwarts," Theodore commented, his lips curled with amusement.

"It pains me to say that I'd be more surprised if they didn't drop out of school," said Daphne with an uppity sniff.

Cyrna lifted her head from her arms, about to chime in, when she caught the sight of the protagonist waving at her from the Gryffindor table. She blinked drowsily as if waking from a long nap, then she waved back. Between navigating the nuances of the Slytherin House and scrambling to figure out just what was so wrong with herself that she couldn't do Transfigurations, she had truly, genuinely, forgotten Harry's existence.

It'd only been a week, after all. The first major event was on Halloween, so she didn't really need updates yet. But Harry had labelled her as a friend, so obviously they'd want to catch up earlier. With a sigh, Cyrna picked herself up from the table. "I've got someone to meet."

Daphne frowned. "Is this wise?"

"Daphne," said Cyrna, a smirk on her face as she hefted her bag onto her shoulders. "What sort of Slytherin would I be if I passed up the chance to be… friends with the boy-who-lived?"

"But fame is fickle," Theodore pointed out slowly as if she was an idiot. "You are aware that Potter's existence is a representation of our failure in the first war? No Slytherin takes kindly to that reminder."

Cyrna gave him a calculating stare. "Don't worry," she said after a beat of silence, her voice as tranquil as still waters. "We won't be friends for very long."

Daphne and Theodore exchanged a glance as they watched Cyrna walk towards the Gryffindors. The clanks of forks and knives on the plates filled the silence that Cyrna had left in her exit. Just before the tall oaken doors of the Great Hall swung shut, they caught a glimpse of Cyrna greeting him with a demeanor unlike her usual self. They seemed to banter for a bit before she reached up and playfully ruffled Potter's hair.

"Huh," said Theodore, a gleam of intrigue taking root in his tawny eyes. "Cyrna's playing a game."

But what game was she playing? Daphne wondered. And how will it affect mine?

...

"I wasn't even finished my breakfast!" said Ron, staring longingly at the Great Hall.

The food at Hogwarts was really very good, but Harry was honestly relieved to be out of the Hall. "Wonder how she's been," Harry said as they waited. His week had been crazy. People simply wouldn't stop staring.

Ron shrugged.

Suddenly they both felt a hand on them. Harry jumped, and Ron shrieked. There came a soft laugh. "Well enough," said a familiar voice.

"Cyrna!" Harry exclaimed with a grin.

She gave them a small smile. "Hello, Harry. Ron. How has it been so far?"

"I'm a wizard," Harry said, the awe in his voice telling Cyrna how he felt more so than his words. "And a famous one at that, apparently," he muttered miserably.

Cyrna gave him a long look then gently ruffled his hair. Harry chuckled—happier now—and batted her hand away. "So how's Slytherin?"

"As well as you'd expect," Cyrna said lightly then paused when Ron managed to make a snort sound sarcastic. Ron didn't seem to hate her like the other Slytherins, but he did look wary of her. Cyrna hummed, then added hesitantly, "Though I do think that Malfoy is a bit of a prick."

Some of the wariness instantly melted from Ron, and he gave her a commiserating look. "You know, if Malfoy ever gets too much, you can let us know."

With that promise, they chattered while they followed Cyrna around the castle. They made their way down the winding staircase, took a few turns, then continued downwards. Soon, Harry heard concerned whispers, and saw that many students they passed were staring at him—more than the usual. Harry cocked his head in confusion. "What's happening?"

"I bet they're worried that I'll kidnap their boy-who-lived and hide him in the dungeons when no one is watching," Cyrna said wryly. She paused when she didn't hear a laugh, and adjusted her character. Turning back, she gave them a flustered look. "It was a joke," she said with a miserable slump in her shoulders. "Sorry."

"No! It's okay. I—uh—totally got that." Harry grinned crookedly and gave a small but genuine laugh. He elbowed Ron who forced out a nervous laugh.

They continued on for a bit longer, the halls growing darker and damper. Ron shivered. "Uh... Cyrna. So if we're not getting kidnapped, where are we going?"

Cyrna did not need to fake her amusement. "If I was your kidnapper, you'd be the politest captive in history," she couldn't help saying. Then she ploughed on before the others could dwell on that thought. "Don't you remember your class schedules? We've got Potions next—double-period. Potions is in the dungeons."

She stared at them at silence. Then she giggled softly.

"Right fools, weren't we?" Ron said at last, the tips of his ears a bright red.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don't even know where my schedule went. I just sort of follow my class around, honest."

Wow. Hermione really had her work cut out for her, huh?

"We should meet up more often," Harry said, just as someone hollered—

"Ron! Harry! Where were you guys?"

....

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