Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

After spending all her time with Nicolas, it was impossible for Cyrna to see Potions as anything but an art constrained by the boundaries of science. Each stir of the cauldron, a stroke of the paint brush. And with each step of the potion, with each ingredient added, the painting took its form.

Cyrna crushed the six snake fangs with a practiced hand and separated it into four equal measures. Then, she made four light slices on the surface of each slug. She couldn't remember how many times she had to smash, grind, and slice things for Nicolas. This time, she prepared her ingredients for Hermione instead.

The final touch of the potion; the beauty of the simmering liquid bubbling quietly… the satisfaction and pride that comes to you when you stand back and behold your work is unparallel to all other sorts of magic, Nicolas had told her.

Cyrna peered into the cauldron, noting the emerald colour. It was the correct colour, but after slaving away under Nicolas for so long, she could discern the imperfections of the potion. Hermione must have added each measure of snake fangs in one go because the solution was too viscous.

Hermione was now giving the last stir.

Too harsh. The finish was too abrupt, Cyrna thought as she waved her wand to help decant the potion.

"Finished!" Hermione said with a huge smile.

Cyrna grinned. "Good work, Hermione!"

Hermione flushed a faint pink before she murmured, "Thanks."

It hadn't been a lie. The potion was good—enough for an Outstanding. She was just really picky. "Let's get these to the professor," Cyrna said when she was startled by a quiet hiss. Cyrna snapped to attention and saw green fumes puffed up in the air above Neville's cauldron. She couldn't remember if this was something that happened in canon, but she knew her potions and so she did have an idea of what might have gone wrong. "That's going to explode," she warnedto Hermione as she threw her robe over her head, just as a loud bang sounded—

Like the other students, Cyrna scrambled up on her chair when she saw the potion spreading across the dungeon floor. When she felt secured, Cyrna turned back to look at Neville. The poor boy was whimpering in pain as fiery red boils sprung up wherever the potion touched his skin.

"Idiot boy," Snape snarled as he stalked over to the destroyed cauldron, "I suppose you added the porcupine quills to the cauldron before taking it off the fire?" The potions seemed to simply slide off the Professor's shoes and robes. Protective charms.

Neville whimpered again, and with a quick flick of his wand, Snape cleared the mess and banished the destroyed fragments of the cauldron.

"How did you know that was going to happen?" Hermione asked in a whisper when things had calmed down and Neville had been sent to the hospital wing. Of course, Snape then rounded off on Harry for not helping Neville with his potion. It was so shockingly ridiculous to place the blame on Harry that there was a healthy moment of silence before some of the Slytherins snickered. Hermione grimaced when Gryffindor lost another point.

"The hissing sound, the puff of smoke, and that excerpt from the textbook warning you about the porcupine quills," Cyrna explained.

Hermione looked rather disappointed in herself. "I read that too," she admitted. "But I didn't recognize those signs in practice."

Cyrna would've ignored that and gone back to work, but Cyrna, Harry's friend, would not. Gently, but firmly, she placed her hand on Hermione's arm, waiting till the other girl looked at her. "Theory doesn't always translate into practice, but no one expects that translation to occur immediately." She encouraged with a slight smile. "It'll go better next time."

Hermione now appeared terribly shy, but it was definitely an improvement from her previous caution. It didn't take much longer before they finished their potions.

.....

"Yes?" Severus drawled when he saw his only Gryffindor-Slytherin pair approach his desk.

"Sir, we finished our potions," the Gryffindor know-it-all said.

He eyed them dispassionately. Then, picking up one of the bottled potions, he swirled the mixture before placing it back onto the table. "Who brewed this?" he asked. It was as perfect as a potion could be if one followed the recipe—and he didn't even need to look at the rest of the talentless imbeciles to know that they were nowhere close to finishing the brew.

The students shared a glance.

"Hermione, sir," said his Slytherin while the Gryffindor said, "the both of us."

"Come again?" his eyes narrowed at the two dunderheads before him.

"Sir, well, I brewed the potion," the Gryffindor explained nervously, "but I wouldn't have been able to finish so quickly if Cyrna hadn't prepared all the ingredients just as I needed them."

Severus settled his attention on his Slytherin who remained silent. She was scrutinizing him, but when he caught her eyes, she looked away shyly. Keeping his expression empty, his mind whirled into activity. After his talk with her about her truancy, he hadn't heard much else about her. Apparently the child was quiet, timid, and spectacularly average. But he had never placed much faith in his colleague's assessment—not even on a good day. And today was not a good day, nor was any day, so he was certain they were wrong.

He could remember the cold steel in her eyes when she had apologized for her cat. He had glared at her during the sorting, and she had not been intimidated.

She could not possibly be timid.

Severus sneered at the girl that was half a head shorter than Miss Granger. Her shyness was an act. He cleared his throat and her eyes shot up to him. "Underselling your abilities will not do you any good in my class." Why had she not claimed her credit? Why act humble? "Outstanding for both of you this time. But keep in mind, Miss Raine," he said silkily, enunciating his words, "not to lie to me again."

His Slytherin stared at him with an innocently befuddled expression that was grudgingly believable. Then she looked at Miss Granger and the two exchanged a giggle.

Severus barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Dismissed."

....

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