Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

"Rennervate"

Cyrna woke to the crash of waves and the caws of seagulls. She lifted her head from the sand, squinting against the sun, and she saw, a distance away, a quaint-looking mansion. It was perched on top of a hill, overlooking the sea behind her. The couple were standing in front of her: the man watching her sharply and the woman who gently restrained him.

"Let's find a more comfortable place to finish our conversation, my dear. See that mansion over there? It's warded, so it should be able to withstand, let's say—" Perenelle's eyes crinkled with laughter—"a bit more damage before it is destroyed."

Perenelle offered her hand to the child. Of course, she knew why her husband was suspicious—A witch in that forest? However, she didn't feel that the small child was evil. Strange, yes. But Evil? Really, her husband was sometimes too suspicious for his own good. The child was a scrawny little thing. All sharp edges, so painfully thin that their bones were visible beneath their skin. The long raven-coloured hair was lacklustre, probably from years of malnourishment. Her skin was a pasty white, looking like it had never seen the light of day and decorated with the purples and greens of bruises. If not for the fact that she stood upright in her own volition, she could have passed as a corpse.

Well, perhaps not. Once the child's panic had ebbed away, their eyes shone brightly with intelligence, with a calculation that was uncommon among the village children. They dissected her intentions.

Evil? Perenelle shook her head, gazing fondly at the child she had found—fondly, because in the days she had tended to the child, she had grown attached. She had felt such sorrow when she had seen a child abandoned for dead in the forest, and when the child had woken, scrambling frantically for the door, pain had nipped her heart.

Nicolas said she grew attached too easily, that she was too kind.

Perhaps. But how had her husband missed those eyes? Maybe it was the fault of the dimly lit room they had been nursing the child in, or maybe it was his failing eyesight.

Nevertheless, in the light of day, those eyes were unmistakable.

Many people had blue eyes, but this shade of blue that caused the eyes to appear as if they were crystals was a trait that belonged only to them.

...

There was a wrinkled hand stretched patiently towards her.

Cyrna almost couldn't believe her luck. Were they seriously inviting her into another house right after she had just demolished their first one? What sort of person did that?

If it weren't for her knowledge of the Harry Potter books, she'd have been more suspicious. As it was, the Flamels were likely good people, and Perenelle's offer was likely from the kindness of her heart. That Nicolas seemed so reluctant made the offer seem more genuine.

Cyrna knew that she should take Perenelle's offer. Then, she should play on her kindness with a sob story—not that she'd have to lie for that, if Laufeia's memories were anything to go on. Given the interactions she had witnessed between the Flamels, Cyrna predicted that Nicolas would eventually capitulate to Perenelle's insistence.

Then she would get shelter, clothes, and food. After, all she'd have to do was buy her time till Harry's first year, and then they would be dead.

But something restrained her—the two rules she lived by so that she would never become what her cousin had accused her of being.

To never break her word. A favour for a favour.

"You don't know me, but you saved me," said Cyrna, watching Perenelle carefully. Despite the rasp in her new voice, she could tell it was more melodic than that of her past's.

Perenelle bent down on her knobby knees till she was eye to eye with the child. "I did." She glanced at her husband, a wry smile playing on her lips. "We both did, though he'd never tell you."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't we?" the woman asked softly.

"I don't have anything to give you."

Nicolas snorted. "Well, that's a given. If you're wanting to get back to your parents, you're welcome to leave immediately."

"She is going to stay with us till she's fully recovered," said Perenelle sternly. "Any parent who just leaves their child like that can't be good!" She turned back to the child. "Come with us."

She was tempted. Deceive them. The world seemed to pause in her next breath. The calls of the gulls drowned out, and the colours bleached to white.

They had saved her. She had destroyed their house. Would deceit be next?

How could she think to deceive them after what they had done for her? Disgusted, her hands fell back limply to her side. She had to obey those rules.

They kept her normal.

Averting her gaze, Cyrna said, "I'll come with you, but let me tell you my story before you decide to let me stay."

The salty sea breeze whistled a mocking tune at her, and she wondered what she might do if left to fend for herself. But Cyrna gave herself a mental shake. She'd be fine—especially since she had magic. She hadn't needed anyone except herself for a very long time.

As they ascended the hill towards the mansion, she promised to herself that if they allowed her to stay, she would repay them fairly. Cyrna had nothing, and she wouldn't be able to repay them with love or care. However, she could start by giving them something much simpler to mirror the trust Perenelle seemed to seek from her—a promise to never lie to them.