Chapter 26: Two Different Takes

Cressida sits on the white bed, a blush scorching her cheeks from the scolding she just received from Madam Pomfrey. Her arm is wrapped in compression bandages, now resting in a sling.

Across from her, Remus is perched on the end of the mattress, trying not to smile at Cressida's wide eyes. Of course, now he doesn't feel so bad that she's being treated. "That was quite an earful," he muses, checking over his shoulder that their healer has wandered out of earshot.

Cressida licks her dry lips, managing a small laugh at her unfortunate situation. "I don't think I'll be joining the usual celebrations tonight."

"No," Remus agrees. The school healer has ordered her to stay overnight – probably under the impression that Cressida would do something stupid and ruin the healing process. But it should be healed naturally within a few days completely, as long as she takes the medicine provided. "Don't doubt there'll be more through the year though."

Cressida hums in agreement, leaning back against the pillow that is braced against the back framing. She glances around the room, a cheeky smile tempting to show. "So. This is where you spend most of your time," she says. "Bit bland in colour, Remus."

Remus glares at her but it only lasts a second before he laughs bittersweetly, shaking his head at her antics. "Yes, but Madam Pomfrey has started bringing me chocolate now. Can't say I mind that part of the stay."

"I think James and Sirius are already building up a stash to lure you out of the dorm once exam season starts."

"Do you know where they've put it?"

Cressida laughs silently, shaking her head. "Trust me, if I did, there wouldn't be much left anyway."

Remus narrows his eyes, leaning slightly away from her. "Game on then," he taunts. Before her warm but equally as taunting reply can come, two pairs of thundering footsteps sound closer, each slap of a rubber sole nearly echoing off the stone walls.

"What in Merlin's bloody name happened?!" James is marching towards them with Sirius in toe. They've stripped of their game robes but still don the red and yellow jacket and Quidditch pants. His face is pale, tinted with red as theirs all were from the cold.

Sirius is the same, but his usual slick hair frizzes and where the others have red tints, he has just starker paleness. Cressida amusedly wonders if he's a vampire.

"Seven fractures is what's happened," Remus answers in her place, giving her a slightly pointed look as though to remind her of Pomfrey's chides.

Smiling tightly, she peers up at their towering figures that shadow over the bed. "Sorry for not celebrating, I just really wanted something for the pain." James' face does not lift to her surprise.

"I just got informed that my friend, and my Keeper, was injured during the game but she didn't tell me," he states, barely keeping himself from hissing the words. Cressida straightens her neck, shifting her weight closer to her centre. "What happened, and when?"

Her mouth stumbles for words, looking between him and Sirius who only stands quietly with his arms loosely folded. "I…It was about fifteen minutes in," she answers honestly. "I couldn't see well, and a Bludger came out of nowhere." She purposely leaves out the part of mistaking it as a Quaffle for the risk of looking like a fool.

James' mouth open, his jaw locking to the side and his tongue rolls over his teeth. "Fifteen minutes in and you didn't tell me?" His hands brace on the edge of the mattress. "Cressida that was a two-hour game." His voice lacks any sort of comforting compassion, more so just…frustration.

"Yes, and we won," she breathes. "I got injured, but that's only natural with sport. I kept playing so I could."

"That's not for you to decide." Cressida blinks, the sound of her gulp almost audible to the ears of others. "I am your Captain, and you tell me if and when you are injured."

"But we won," she repeats with more force. "I don't understand why you're upset. I let two goals slip the entire game. Two out of Merlin knows how many." Shouldn't he be proud of her? Shouldn't he be commending her on her sheer will and dedication? She's only shown what he preaches for. "If I was out, we might've lost."

"We would have made do."

A bitter scoff bubbles from her lips. "And do you want me to tell you if I break a nail next game too? James, I caught those goals, I-"

"-You put yourself in a stupid position," he spits back.

Cressida points her finger at his chest, heat in her cheeks and no longer from a shamed blush. "I was trying to make you proud!" Her fingers curl into a fist, slamming back into the mattress. "You told me to get my head in the game. You said defeat wasn't an option, so I made sure it wasn't!"

She doesn't need to see anything other than his eyes to know that he is beyond pissed. James is enraged, and Cressida doesn't know what eventually did it. What she said or did. But without even looking at anyone else, he spins on his heels and strides out of the hospital wing without a moment's hesitation, disappearing in a quick left turn.

Cressida is left with her jaw ajar, gobsmacked by the events that just passed over. her good arm extends out towards where her friend just left as if asking what just happened. Finally Sirius breaks from his silent stance, stepping forward. He pushes her arm down gently. "I'll go get you some lunch," he murmurs. "Potato salad and chips?"

Cressida nods numbly and Sirius leaves with a pace much slower than his counterpart. With an elongated sigh and droopy eyes, she looks to Remus and says, "I don't know if my arm or that hurts more."

Remus can only make an expression of stunned agreement.

Xx

The next morning, Madam Pomfrey grants her a discharge, allowing Cressida to go about her Sunday how she wishes. She walks at a leisurely pace to the Great Hall, still donning her Quidditch jumper and pants.

The hall is alive with chatter, well into the morning meal. The weather looks better today; all the snowfall from yesterday a soft and deep powder and the air is clear once more.

A few faces look up as she enters, and even fewer continue to watch. Some Gryffindors are still cheering on about their houses' victory, sending jeers towards the Slytherin table.

Cressida glances at her usual spot – on the far end of the tables, but not far enough that the professors would overhear them. All four are already at the table, food on their plates and heads subtly turned at her approach.

Her walking stops before she reaches them, legs lifting to invite herself into a new spot. "Cressida," Marlene greets kindly. "Heard about what happened. Must've hurt like a bitch."

Cressida smiles at her easy welcoming, offering the same gesture to the others as well. "Yeah," she chokes through a soft laugh. "Could you lot even see anything? I was almost blind up there."

"Not beyond blurs," Mary says between eager bites of egg. The coiled hair girl seems to have no frets about Cressida's sudden appearance. "No offence, but I don't think I'll be going to any game where there's even a chance of rain or snow from now on."

"None taken," Cressida grins. "If I had a choice I wouldn't go either."

Across from her, Lily leans forward. Her dark red hair cascades over the black turtleneck she wears. "Not to be the intrusive one, but why aren't you sitting with the boys?" The question doesn't come with malic or contempt, but with innocent curiosity and perhaps a bit of caution.

Cressida shrugs, spreading butter over some toast. "You can never get rid of Potter; he seems to need a break from me." She sets a straight smile, biting into the toast. "So I'm doing us both a favour."

Lily frowns, glimpsing down the table but her gaze doesn't stay longer than a second. Cressida's eyes thin delicately, her chewing slowing as her skin on the apple of Lily's cheeks begins to match the shade of her hair.

The toast drops from her hand, back onto the plate with a bitter taste left in her mouth. Lily could do no wrong. Not to James. Not even when he continuously gets rejected. Stomped on. Insulted. Yet when Cressida does something for him it ends with his raised voice and a berating. "Just realised I'm not hungry."

Just as quickly as she sat down, her legs are taking her back out of the Great Hall, not a single glance back being bothered with. But she can hear the footsteps catching up with her. "Not in the mood to talk," she drawls, already having a sense of who it is.

"Good, because I am." Sirius pairs her pace. "You can just listen if you want." Cressida tilts her head, displaying her tired expression but decides to humour them both by not arguing any further. "Where do you want to go?"

"The library," is her quick response. A teasing smirk manages to show. "Nobody will look for us there."

Sirius smirks in his own way as well. He extends out a bent elbow and Cressida wraps her good arm around his, laughing at his dramatically jolly smile.

They make their way to the library, Cressida listening to a random assortment of topics as they find the furthest nook that is away from Madam Pince's desk. She laughs freely at something he says, but the sound beings to break away as Sirius' features sober. He stretches his arm along the back of the shared reading lounge, both their bodies turned inwards. "Look, I'm not happy about what you did yesterday. But I am proud of you. It would have taken a lot of grit to play through that."

Cressida nods feebly, toying with the material of the sling. "That what Madam Pomfrey said. Only in an a lot more condescending tone. Minus the part of being proud." The skin of her cheek indents from between her teeth as she rests her head near his arm. "I just don't understand why he's being like this. It's not like I was bleeding out or anything."

"Wish I could tell you," he sighs stridently. "He refused to talk to me about it." His face flips into a childish smile as Cressida can only purse her lips. He tilts his head the same way as hers, the extended arm shortening and scuffing her hair up. "Hey. Don't let that man-child ruin your day. You're spending it with me after all."

Scrunching her face, she replies, "I'd rather the Bludger all over again." A sharp cry of pain sounds through the library as Sirius scuffs her head again, followed by a deeper cry as her lean fingers pinch the skin above his ribs.