Harry Potter 50 Shades of Gray

"We are a bookstore—the bookstore in Diagon Alley. Not a place for unruly children and mangy strays to track dirt all over the establishment!" he said, eyes glinting with delight. "You think that just because you're children that you can cause such disturbances? People are reading here! Children—always thinking they're the center of the world—"

Cyrna was sure that this was some sort of pathetic ego boost for the man—actual repercussions were unlikely. Since this was more of a rant, Cyrna didn't see a point in arguing. He'd run out of steam, eventually. Surely he had to breathe sometime, right?

The other girl seemed to have the same idea. However, instead of the fearfully attentive expression Cyrna had adopted, the girl stared down the man with disdain. But the man was unaware and continued on. "You! Yes you with the brown hair—You've been sitting over there in the corner for the past quarter of an hour. If you're not here to buy something, get out! This is not a public library!—"

The girl merely arched a brow.

Cyrna would readily submit herself as a test subject for Nicolas' next unhinged project if the girl was from a common wizarding family. Everything about her demeanour pointed towards status.

"And you! Don't think I've forgotten about you!" the shopkeeper snarled, his meaty finger nearly jabbing Cyrna's nose. Spittle flew at her face, and—this was absolutely disgusting.

But while Cyrna was restrained, Prince differed in opinion. He arched his upper body out of her arms and would have made a nice bloody rake across his face if Cyrna hadn't pulled him back at the last second.

"Sorry," she said insincerely.

The man's face turned puce red with rage when he heard the tittering laughter from their audience.

"Give me that blasted fleabag—" he spluttered, his hand shooting out towards Prince.

Something within Cyrna snapped.

Her magic unfurled, humming wildly with its sudden freedom. Mirroring her fury, she could feel her magic sing, feeding into her urge for destruction. Not death—but she wanted so badly to harm. Her fingers twitched, heart pounding with a desire for retribution. Cyrna thought of all the many ways she could hurt. The many ways she could send him to the hospital. Magic sang tantalizingly to her, and her wand-hand moved.

But ultimately, she held herself back. There were laws, after all, and Perenelle would be so unimpressed after all the effort she had spent on teaching her to control her magic.

Her brief spark of anger rose then fell. Like waves lapping gently onto the shore, she slowly returned to her usual apathy.

With iron control, she gripped her magic, pulling those silver strings back into herself. Hopefully her sudden spike in magic would just be written off as a panic response.

Still, some retribution was necessary. With crude instructions to her magic, she slammed the man onto the ground and tossed him away.

Before anyone could intervene, the man bounced once on the ground before tumbling backwards to the front door of the shop. The shop fell silent, and everyone went still.

Wide-eyed, the man trembled, slowly picking himself up. Satisfaction bubbled in her chest.

"Y-you. Underaged magic—" he blustered, but he didn't take a step forward.

People broke into whispers, and the hushed conversations grew to a loud indistinct chorus that had Cyrna drawing closer to the other girl in wary solidarity.

"Hey," the girl said softly, turning a calculating look at the shopkeeper. They shared a glance. Let me handle this part, she seemed to silently communicate. Curious, Cyrna backed away, and the girl strolled forward with casual grace, standing proudly before the man.

.....

Upstairs, from a shadowed spot on the second floor of the bookstore, a tall thin man with sallow skin and a large hooked nosed observed the proceedings. He had cast the shield charm with a lazy flick of his wand when he had felt the incoming wave of magic surge towards him. The magic had lacked finesse; there was intent, but it was like someone had taken a broad swipe at a general area. Still, as it crashed briefly against his shield before receding, he could tell that it was strong.

Strong for a child, at least. On par with that of an adult.

He took stock of the situation around him. The incompetent fools were scowling pathetically on the ground, whining about something that wouldn't amount to anything but a bruise. His sharp ears caught the sniveling from the tiny brats in the shop. He sneered at them all before returning his attention to the floor below.

From where he stood, it was impossible to make out the girl's features. But he felt the moment her magic gathered again—this time with intent. Then part of the magic disappeared. His brow lifted with surprise, and he stalked closer to the railings of the second floor, just in time to see the shopkeeper, who had been thrown onto his arse, scramble back up.

Thin lips curled into a smirk when he noticed that the wizard beside him looked enraged—he had stumbled and fallen to the ground during the initial surge of magic. "Bested by a child, I see," he said mockingly.

The wizard turned aggressive before paling in recognition.

"Yes?" he drawled dourly. The wizard quickly backed away, and the next time he spotted him was when the bells of the shop tingled as he exited.

Fingers rapped against the railing in a steady beat as he watched Miss Greengrass step between the man and the girl.

....

Want to read ahead by more than 60 chapters. Then join my pa*treon now.

Link: pa*treon.com/Amelie796 (Remove the *)