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Cress

It had taken forever, but Cress had finally found a place to hide.

Actually, she'd found about six places to hide including this one, but the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler and all of those other papers that she'd never gotten to read during her childhood were, as it turns out, incredibly persistent, and also incredibly good at finding her hiding places. But she was confident that this one was safe.

It was a little nook in the library, right next to a window about twice as tall as her, with heavy, convenient curtains she could draw over the nook to keep her safely out of sight. As an added bonus, it was right next to her favourite section in the entire library, so she could quickly slip out, grab a book, and hide herself again when she got bored. It was perfect. Now, she just had to hope that no-one would find-

A light knocking on the stone wall next to her nook made Cress freeze in place, heart jumping around her chest in a panic. Surely they couldn't have found her already? She'd only been here for twenty minutes! She'd really thought she'd found the perfect hiding spot this time too! How could they possibly have found her so quickly? How-

"Hey Cress, it's me. You're in there right? Because otherwise I'm looking very stupid right now and just talking to a wall."

Cress felt her shoulders slump with relief. Thank Merlin, it was just Thorne.

…just Thorne. When did she start thinking about him like that? Like he was a person, not the picture of perfection.

She twitched the curtain aside to look up at him, a small, relieved smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. His eyes flicked down to her face as she came out of hiding, and she felt her smile start to falter as he squinted.

"Is the essence of dittany already wearing off?" she asked.

Thorne shrugged, grinning nonchalantly. "It's going, slowly but surely. Everything's starting to look fuzzy and grey now. I'll probably start using those phoenix tears tomorrow."

"So… you're going to be blind again for a week?"

"Looks like it. That's one of the reasons I came to find you actually." Thorne said, "I know I probably shouldn't ask this of you again, but would you mind helping me out while I'm blind? Just until I get my vision back so I don't go running into a wall or something. Then you can run as far away from me as you want."

Cress grinned in a way she desperately hoped didn't look too eager. "Sure! I mean, I'd be happy to help. It's no trouble. I don't mind. It's nice, getting to hang out with you so much."

Thorne chuckled. "Glad to hear it. Hey, would you mind if I joined you in there?"

"N-not at all!" Cress said, praying to Merlin that Thorne couldn't see the blush steadily creeping over her face. Her nook was a great hiding place but also a small hiding place. She could fit into it quite comfortably but with Thorne… well. It might be a bit of a tight squeeze.

Thorne grinned at her and pulled the curtain aside fully and sat on the edge of the nook. Cress moved over as much as she could to give him space, but their sides were still touching as Thorne made himself comfortable.

"So, how're you holding up?" he asked her, "With freedom, and victory, and the reporters… all that stuff."

Cress tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear. "I… don't really know yet. The fact that we won hasn't really sunk in yet I don't think. My whole life Levana has been there, an unseen outside force always watching, always controlling every facet of my lifestyle through Sybil. Now that she's gone and I can finally do what I want in my life… it just doesn't seem possible."

"I think I might have some idea of what you're feeling."

Cress looked up at Thorne in surprise. Carswell Thorne, the picture of a rebellious bad-boy who never lets anyone tell him what to do, had something controlling him at one stage?

He smiled bitterly, his gaze drifting away from her as he thought. "My parents had a pretty narrow idea of happiness. Get lots of money, have a great reputation, be a "respectable" human being. As I was growing up, they were always trying to shove that down my throat, and shunned me when I spat it back out again. The punishments I was threatened with weren't half as bad as the punishments you were undoubtedly threatened with. I mean, the worst I got was not being allowed out of the house during the summer holidays. But, when I went to school, and I was more-or-less away from them… it took a while for me to actually realise that I was free. Well," his grin turned wry as he looked back at Cress, "as free as I can be in a prison like this. I still think detentions spent writing lines should be illegal."

Cress giggled, and suddenly their close proximity didn't seem so bad.

Thorne's smile widened (at her laugh?) and he asked. "What about our little reporter infestation? I assume that's why you've found yourself this little hidey-hole?"

Cress nodded, ducking her head in embarrassment. "I just couldn't stand it anymore. And I can't say I really understood it. Some of them just kept asking the same questions over and over, and the ones with the magic quills wrote down stuff that was completely different from what I was telling them."
Thorne chuckled ruefully. "Yep, that's reporters for you. The ones asking the same questions over and over again were probably trying to make you change your mind about something and say something more interesting for the papers. The magic quills some of them use are called Quick-Quotes Quills. They write down stuff that is only very, very loosely related to what is actually being said, instead writing a version that's super dramatic and romanticised."

"But that's inaccurate!" Cress said, "They're giving their readers incorrect information!"

Thorne sighed and shook his head, grinning. "Cress, Cress, Cress, you sweet, pure little angel."

Cress ducked er head to hide her blush.

"They don't care about giving the real story." Thorne continued, "At least, not that much. Newspapers don't get paid based on accuracy they get paid based on how many people buy them. And people aren't going to buy something that isn't an interesting read. That's the reporter's job. They have to find a really good story, spice it up a little, or a lot, depends on the reporter, and then send it to the information-hungry public."

Cress pulled a face. "That sounds… horrifically dishonest."

Thorne shrugged. "Eh, some papers are better than others. The Daily Prophet is mostly alright, though they can print some pretty crazy stuff, but Witch Weekly? The Quibbler? Stuff like that is just pure lies to make the readers happy."

Cress frowned. "I thought the people who work on the Quibbler print all that stuff because they think it's right."

"Eh, maybe. I mostly pick up copies because their kinda hilarious. I once picked one up that said fire salamanders were descended from Chinese Fireball dragons." Thorne tilted his head, smiling fondly. "That did give me pretty good inspiration for a prank though. I think Jael wet his pants."

Cress giggled and, slowly, carefully, leaned against Thorne. She waited, moments seeming like years as she looked for his reaction.

An arm gently wound around her shoulders, holding her gently in place, and she relaxed, and blissful smile growing on her face.

A/N: Okay, yes, I know it's super late. Again, I've been really busy lately. I'll try and get this story finished up in the next few weeks.

Please review!