Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

Chapter 25: Déjà Vu



"I nearly missed the train," Cyrna announced by way of explanation, panting from her all-out sprint to the station. The whistle sounded shrilly, and the train rumbled to a jolting start, nearly tipping Cyrna onto the red-headed boy—Ron, of course—who was across from Harry. Wearily, she levitated her luggage into the luggage rack above and sat down next to Harry. "Hello again," she said. "How was the rest of your summer?"

Harry shrugged. "The usual." After getting his Hogwart's letter, the Dursley's had finally given him a bedroom, so for him, this summer had been way better than all the previous summers. Harry edged away when her cat hissed at him from her lap, sure that it would bite him the moment Cyrna turned away. "How was yours?"

"The usual," she deadpanned back before breaking into a smile at Prince's antics. "Actually, I got my wand then begged my mum to teach me a bit of magic."

"Yeah that was a nice bit of magic you did with your luggage," Ron piped up. Shuffling through the sweets that Harry had bought, he chose something he hadn't seen before. He took a bite, then went on, "I only know this one spell that my brother taught me."

"Which one?" asked Harry.

Ron went to find his wand which had been stuffed into his pockets. Taking it out, he cleared his throat—

Their compartment's door slammed open. "Has anyone seen Neville's toad?" asked a bushy-haired girl.

Things happened exactly like it did in the books, and Cyrna watched it unfold with a bit of fascination; it was like she was watching a familiar scene from a movie, but from a completely different perspective than what had been captured on camera. She felt a sense of déjà vu in the weirdest way possible. So when the three of them turned to stare expectantly at her—the scene from her memory colliding with her reality—Cyrna couldn't help but feel slightly put-off. "Cyrna Raine," she answered in a strange tone, knowing that they had asked for her name. "It's nice to meet you."

"Pleasure." Then Hermione turned to the boys who weren't in their school robes. "You should change," she said in a sniffy voice, "We'll be there soon." Spinning on her heels, Hermione swept out their compartment.

The sound of the door sliding shut behind her rang in the newfound silence.

"Well, I sure hope I won't end up in the same house as her," said Ron after a moment. "That girl is mental!"

Harry shrugged. "Then which house do you want?"

"Definitely Gryffindor—every single Weasley has been a Gryffindor" Ron said with a hint of pride. "But I guess I'd be fine in a different house—as long as it's not Slytherin. Only dark wizards get sorted there."

"Like Voldemort," said Harry, having learnt that from Hagrid.

Ron winced at the name. "Exactly."

"Not necessarily—well, obviously Voldemort was in Slytherin, but I'm sure Slytherins don't only have dark wizards," Cyrna cut in, knowing herself well enough that her potential House was either Ravenclaw or Slytherin; she didn't want Harry to instantly turn on her if she was sorted into the latter. "If every Slytherin turned Dark, then the school would've removed the House completely, or the Ministry would be watching those graduates like hawks once they left Hogwarts."

Ron snorted, "They're all slimy snakes that only look out for their own skin."

Cyrna chewed on her lip in a hesitant manner, "I think most people do—to varying extents. I mean, you'd hardly be helpful to others if you could barely help yourself."

Harry didn't disagree—he certainly had to look out for himself at the Dursley's.

"They'd step over anyone to save themselves," said Ron, sounding affronted. "Nothing's worse than that."

Cyrna couldn't help the skeptical arch of her brows before she reigned in her expression into something more demure. "I suppose," she answered, though she could think of many worse things. There was a reason why she desperately adhered to the rules she had set for herself; without them... She pushed back her apprehension.

"Then why did you say all that for Slytherins?" asked Ron with no little confusion.

....

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