Chapter 12: The Keeper
Cressida is in an avid conversation with Remus as they enter the Common Room about how pissed she is that they got detention for something they didn't do, being sure to add filthy glares over her shoulder for the actual committers. All good-natured though. It isn't like detention actually does anything besides waste an hour of her time.
The main area of the Gryffindor Tower is crowded as per usual for five o'clock on a school night. Students of all years taking spots everywhere; from the lounges and window seats, to sitting on end tables and short bookcases. One thing Cressida loves the most about her house is the lack of inner-house conflict. Sure, there are odd cases such as Andrews, but compared to the rumours the spread through the other houses and what they've seen for their own eyes, Gryffindors have a tendency to stick together more so than the rest. Maybe it's their pride.
"I should get that transfiguration homework done," Cressida remarks, thinking about the mini-essay due by the next morning. And she plans to do just that.
Baxton strides down the stairs leading to the seventh years' dormitories with a slip of paper in hand. The Gryffindor Quidditch team. Cressida bounces on her toes, about to inform the others but they've already spotted it too. Baxton heads to the cork notice board, pinning it up. Sirius' arm slides over her shoulder, pushing her forward as a small crowd begins to hover around it. "Coming through," he announces as they slide through the small sea of people, James no doubt right behind them.
The giddiness of seeing the official team buzzes around and Cressida bathes herself in the feeling. They reach the front, already hearing pats on the back from mates. Her eyes dart over the paper, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. James is a Chaser and Sirius is a beater. Morrison is their seeker.
But her grin falters ever so slightly as she blinks away the non-existent blur of her sight. Reading the paper over again, her heart begins to thud heavily. Her name isn't on there.
The world around her becomes a dreamy blur, and the crowd she so welcomed moments ago becomes overbearing on her senses. Heat flushes over her cheeks in both anger and humiliation. With a lip that slightly quivers, Cressida reads over the slip for a third time, this time looking for the title 'Keeper' rather than just the names.
She knows that there is only one other person who it could be: the only other person game enough to try-out for the position. The person she, James, and Sirius had laughed at on the morning of try-outs.
Andrews.
The heat crawls back through her head and down her neck until it feels like a furnace is a mere metre behind her. Cressida hasn't felt like this in many years – not since she had been humiliated by Rosier in front of everybody at the Great Hall in their third year. But just like then, a burning sensation fills her eyes and throat which feels like it is beginning to swell up.
The arm around her shoulders has slid away at one point or another as Sirius high-fives James. But Cressida stands there, neither able to move away or bring herself to say anything.
A large hand grips her shoulder, shaking it hard. "Another year, another Quidditch Cup in the making," Sirius bellows. Cressida finally tears her thoughts away from nothingness and stares up at Sirius. He smiles down curiously, before his own expression falls, eyes darting between hers. Maybe the way she looks is enough for him to figure it out as he snaps his head to the side, reading over the paper once more as she had. The realisation comes to his face as he blinks rapidly, his lips rounding as though to speak but the words don't come for a few moments. "W…What?"
His hand leaves her shoulder once more, but he doesn't leave her sight. All Cressida can do is watch him thud James on the back of the head. James, who is likely in the middle of taking in all the congratulations, narrows his eyes at Sirius in plain annoyance. She can't see Sirius' expression, but it must be enough for James to take him seriously as he quickly forgets the showering. The longer-haired boy says something to James who looks more and more perplexed by the second.
Sirius turns back to her as James also takes another look at the paper, ripping it down from the pin. "He's fucking around," Sirius breathes, shaking his head in denial. "Baxton can't be serious."
Finally Cressida's voice comes back to her. "It's fine." Her voice cracks and they both know that would be stupid to believe. "I flunked try-outs, and everybody knows it." Peeking over his broad shoulders, she spies James speaking with Baxton near the stairs. The older Captain is standing there calmly while James is speaking wildly. The piece of paper is crinkling under his hand, even more so as James shakes it in their Captain's face.
The overwhelming crowd of the tower becomes too much for her to handle anymore. She can't tell if her mumbling about heading to her room makes its way to Sirius' ear since he leaves her to join James. Remus and Peter are on the outskirts of the room, not yet having any idea what's going on but are beginning to realise there is something wrong at the sight of James throwing a fit.
In an ocean of self-pity, Cressida marches up the stairs, wiping the tears that now feel free to fall without the boys watching her. She's glad they don't follow for the simple fact that she'd rather not fall ungracefully at the stairs turning to a slide.
"Cressida?"
It's not a voice she's expecting to call and that alone makes Cressida look back. Marlene stands at the bottom of the stairs, peering up before pattering her way to Cressida's side. Nothing needs to be said between them, and she silently thanks Marlene for not asking any questions.
As Cressida lays in bed on top of the covers, Marlene lays down with her, crossing her ankles over and resting her hands on her stomach. She looks to the ceiling for a while as Cressida sniffles before letting her head fall to the side. "What do you want for dinner? I'll bring it up from the Great Hall."
In spite of the situation, Cressida croaks out a laugh that is really at nothing in particular. "I don't feel like eating."
"Too bad," the blonde Gryffindor hums, "everybody eats on my watch. How about a chicken and tomato sandwich? Or a few chips?"
Cressida breathes out slowly, feeling herself sink further into the bed. Smiling meekly, she says, "A sandwich sounds good." Marlene nods, breathing so faintly and delicately that Cressida can't help but watch her stomach to assure herself that Marlene is indeed breathing.
A small sensation of guilt overwhelms her, realising that never before had she considered Marlene a proper friend. She was the person who you could make a joke with, pass notes to in class or sit with but to Cressida, that's not what makes a friend a friend. But Marlene is her friend and has been all along.
Xx
If one word could sum up how she feels, it would be stupid. Stupid for being so confident in her position that she failed to see it slipping away. Andrews was better than she had thought, she already knew that, but that stupidity blinded her against how good he might actually be.
Stupid because now she'll have to watch her friends play the sport she loves more than any class, but she'll be in the stands. Stupid for the way she laughed in Andrews' face and stupid because she knows that the word will spread around soon enough and it'll be thrown in her face.
Stupid because she put so much of herself into Quidditch and she let it slip away.
There's barely a moon in the sky, only a slither visible when the clouds don't cover it.
A pitiful smile dances on her lips as she hears the thuds of someone climbing up the stairs of the astronomy tower. She wonders how he ever sneaks around. "Hope you brought a jumper." Cressida turns in her seat, smiling up at her visitor. "It's cold up here."
James, who is already tucking his hands deep into his pockets nods feverishly. "Yeah, I just realised that."
Cressida hums in amusement, turning back around to face Hogwarts' grounds. Her legs dangle over the edge of the tower, but the railings prevent any risk of tumbling over – not that she's that clumsy to begin with. "Why are you awake?"
James doesn't answer until he's sitting down next to her, pulling his sleeves over his hands while his pyjama covered legs copy hers over the edge. "Why are you?" he counters. "I heard you sneaking into our room and searching through my trunk." He leans closer, knocking her side with his elbow gently. "You could have just asked for it you know."
Cressida glances at the invisibility cloak. She hadn't snuck into his room to steal it, the only sneaking she did was to try and not wake them up. "You didn't follow me out then," she notes. Cressida has been sitting on the astronomy tower for a good half an hour alone already. It seems an odd time for James to follow after her is he was aware all along that she'd left. "Why now?"
"I was always going to come out with you," he says quietly, as though the peace of the night could be disturbed. His voice naturally carries far so hearing it so meek is almost…intimate. "I just wanted to give you some time alone."
"Thank you," Cressida whispers honestly. "I didn't wake anyone else, did I?"
James shakes his head, pulling out his wand to fiddle with it. Like her own, his arms rest over the railing, the moonlight gracing their skin. "Don't think so. Sirius was snoring when I left." Though she can't manage a laugh, Cressida smiles to the air. "Listen, I don't know what's gotten into Baxton's head, but it's nothing worthy of Ravenclaw. Andrews shouldn't be on the team and everybody knows it."
"It's fine," Cressida repeats from earlier. "I don't care that much about it."
"That is the biggest pile of dung I've ever heard," James drawls, knocking her feet with his own so they swing from side to side. "I'm just still trying to figure out why he's done it."
Truthfully, she doesn't want to think more on the subject. It's been rattling her head for over six hours and she's already done and tired of it. "Maybe I can play next year," she mumbles in answer, picking at the skin of her palm.
"There's no maybe." She peers James from the side of her eyes. He's facing her almost entirely, looking just as seriously as Professor McGonagall during exam period. "I'm going to be team Captain, and you're going to be my Keeper."
That does make her laugh. "You're boosting your own ego there. It's not certain you're going to be Captain. Who knows-" she leans closer to his side, bringing her voice down to a whisper, "- Sirius might be elected."
James cringes, pulling away in disgust, causing another giggle to erupt. "Could you imagine?" he revolts. "He'd be cockier than me."
"A hard feat," she notes. She means to spare a quick glimpse at him, but her eyes train intently on a mark just above his right eyebrow. It's hard to see in the shadowed lighting, but Cressida can make out a dark shading. Reaching out, with a soft thumb, she traces over the skin. "What happened there?"
"I-um." He breaks off in a short laugh that sounds more like an attempt to make it sound funnier than it was. Or maybe out of self-pity. "I forgot your stairs turned to a slide when we try to go up."
Cressida presses her lips together to hold her laugh but decides that James would probably appreciate making light of the event rather than fawning over him. he laughs once more with her, bowing his head in shame. "Do you want something for it?" she questions, nevertheless. Pinching his chin, she brings his face back to the side to assess the damage. It looks faint in the low lighting, but it might be better to put a bruising cream on it. Madam Pomfrey has enough of that in stock.
"For a bruise? No," he chuckles. "Something to forget everyone seeing it, maybe."
Cressida grins, letting his face go to stretch her arms back over the railings. "Well, I haven't ever used the obliviate charm before, but if you're willing to be my first test subject…"
"I'll live with the embarrassment," James decides quickly enough, and the laughter continues. He goes back to fiddling with his wand, and maybe out of some odd feline instinct, Cressida smacks it out of his hands. Shocked at her own actions, she can only stare at James as his mouth drops. His chest presses up against the railings as his wand soars down towards the ground at the grass below the astronomy tower.
After a moment of dead silence, Cressida's mouth pulls into an almighty grin. "I'm not even sorry," she cackles. Tears begin to pool in her eyes as she falls backwards and lets the laughs run freely.
James breaks from his momentary mourning to stare at her with wide eyes. "What is it with you and my wand?"
Cressida sits back up, shaking her head. "I don't even know," she breathes out, wiping away the tears that still feel a little bit too much like ones of despair. Maybe she just needs to cry some more. Finding it in herself to feel a little sorry for him, she pulls out her own wand.
But before she can even cast a simple incantation, James' hand is smacking against her wand and she watches it fly over the edge of the tower-like his own did. He grins proudly but Cressida only stares at him with the same wide eyes he did at her. "James," she whispers. "I was going to accio your wand back up."
The grin stays on his face for a moment as he looks over the railing. Ever so slowly, it morphs into lips pressing tightly together in resignation and regret. "Huh," he murmurs.
Cressida laughs pitifully this time, falling to the side until her temple rests against his shoulder. "Thank you." She feels a bit of tension leave his body with a silent exhale. The arm closes to her stretches out around her back, resting loosely over it. His fingers graze over the side of her ribs back and forth softly. "We should go get out wands."
This time she does hear him sigh. "Probably."