Chapter 37: Black

Cressida stares at her Transfiguration report. The mark in the top left-hand corner should not be what it is. Her scores are plummeting, and with the end of the year drawing closer and closer, the anxiety only continues to grow for the OWL examinations.

She's still in her Quidditch robes, having just returned from practice and slumped on her bed. James had drilled them to the ground. Their final game in a few weeks is against Ravenclaw again who bested Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

Marlene leans over her shoulder, her nose shrivelling at the mark Cressida doesn't even bother to hide. "That sucks." Cressida sighs, tossing the parchment to the side. "I thought Potter was helping you with Transfiguration."

Marlene lounges on her bed directly to the left of Cressida's. "He is," she answers. "I just…"

"Can't focus because you're staring too much and daydreaming about him?" she finishes flatly. Cressida opens her mouth to argue but closes it again. Marlene pretty much said the entire truth. The blond girl laughs lively, sitting back up on the edge of the mattress. "Maybe you should study with Lupin instead."

"No," she sighs. "He has too much going on. Besides, James is the top of the class and as long as I learn to focus again, I should be fine. This report was just a fluke."

"Whatever you say," she sings. "You're trying to get over him right?" Cressida nods, tucking her knees under her arms. There's no point doing anything else when he's in love with Evans. Marlene purses her lips, fingers drumming over her duvet. "What about Elias? I thought you said you liked him."

"I like him, I don't fancy him," Cressida corrects. "Besides, with these marks and Quidditch practise and other stuff, I don't really have time to date."

"But you have time for one-on-one sessions with Potter," she counters. "Look, I know he's your friend and it's going to be hard to get over him when you see him every day, but maybe limiting times when you're alone together might help."

Cressida regards Marlene through her lashes. The notion alone of spending less time with him is heartbreaking, but what else is it bringing her besides momentary happiness? "Elias actually offered to help me in Transfig. Maybe I could take him up on that."

Marlene nods approvingly. "There you go," she grins.

Lily and Mary enter the dorm at that moment. The girl with the dark head of coils strides through first, a proud grin donning her wide cheeks. "Lily has a crush."

Evans follows in second, shoving Mary's shoulder from behind. "I do not," she grumbles, though the bashful smile on her own face says otherwise. Cressida eyes the redhead as she marches to her bed. There is a soft blush on her cheeks.

"Cressida," Mary greets, eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not usually in here straight after practice."

Cressida shrugs off-handedly, folding up her report so the mark remains hidden. "The boys were knackered. Thought I'd come up and take the shower I desperately need."

Mary's eyes lighten considerably. "Ah, that's what I could smell," she remarks mirthfully. Cressida returns it with a quick tweak of her lips, but her attention stays on Lily. A crush? Who would Lily Evans take a fancying for? There's always a chance of it being James, but she doubts that Mary would be so chirpy about that. Would Lily date this person? That would tear James apart. Does she say something to James? Maybe Sirius would have a better idea of what to do.

"Black was asking if you were up here," Mary adds. Speak of the devil.

"Oh. Thanks."

Glad to leave the growing thickness of the room anyway, Cressida strips out of the top robes, leaving the black undershirt and red vest on. She leaves without a goodbye, feeling no need to and wanders back down to the main chamber. A quick glance around the tower reveals no sign of her friend. "Where'd Sirius go?" she asks both James and Remus who are leaning against the wall off to the far side.

"Said he was going for a walk," the former answers, nodding towards the portrait entrance. Cressida says a brief thanks, then sets off in a march to trace his steps. Pressing against the railing, she peers down the many flights of stairs. There is a mop of black hair just two flights down.

"Didn't want to climb up a slide to reach me?" she calls down, already on the move to catch up.

"I saw the bruise James got from last time," is the quick response she receives. Cressida peers over the railing again as she closes the gap between them, laughing gently. "Didn't really fancy one myself."

"Pity." Finally reaching his side, she wrings her arms around one of his. His eyes are sunken and tired, akin to Remus' before a full moon. "Where are we going?"

His lips press together in thought, pondering their almost limitless possibilities. The entire castle grounds are theirs. "Where do you want to go?"

"I think it's up to you to choose today," she hums back in a soft tone. "Wherever you feel like spilling your mind to me."

"What makes you think I want to do that?"

"It's insulting that you think I don't know you well enough to see it." Her smile stays in place in hopes that he'll feed off of her. Whether that means to simply bring his own smile back or comfort him. "Apparently just as easy as you see through me."

"Which we have yet to discuss," he drawls, lips curling into a subtle smirk. "Maybe we should have some firewhiskey before we start talking."

Their footsteps bounce off the walls, travelling the wide space around them. The paintings are quieter than usual, but the entire castle also feels the same.

"On a Wednesday? Bit early in the week, isn't it?" she opines with ungraceful and sluggish steps. "Don't you have some hidden in your room anyway? What's the point of travelling to get it?"

His chest rises with a long intake of breath. "I do," he answers slowly. "But I only just decided, and I don't feel like going back in there. Too much noise."

Cressida holds her tongue, recalling how quiet it actually was in the tower. The noise she is thinking of might not be the same that he's referring to. Content to spend her afternoon wherever he wishes, Cressida allows him to guide her along the staircases, all the way to the front entrance. As they wander out the large arched door, Cressida raises her brows.

"I'm not sure sneaking to Hogsmeade is best done by simply walking there," she observes. "Though we haven't tried that before."

"That's because we're not going to Hogsmeade. We're going somewhere much closer." Cressida eyes him warily, noting his lack of hint of the destination on his mind. Already her head is planning around a new detention.

Nevertheless, she continues following him out past the courtyard, down the slopes and stone steps. His pace only quickens as they trek down the grassy slope and Cressida finally realises where he's taking her. The Black Lake. The sky is on the greyer side, but there seems to be no risk of rain incoming anytime soon, though it does make the world look a little duller than usual.

Finally their journey comes to a slow stop as they find a spot underneath an overhanging tree just a few yards from the water's edge. No other students are out, and they don't expect any more to come from the castle as it grows late.

Sirius kicks off his shoes with his toes, laying down with his arms behind his head. Cressida decides to stay sitting up for a little while longer, kicking off her own shoes and watching small bumps in the water moving from the Giant Squid that's come closer to the shallows.

"I talked to Regulus today."

Whatever train of thought she was in before completely evaporates. "Your brother? You two haven't talked in weeks." The grass tickles her forearms as Cressida leans on them, laying her stomach across the ground with her head in line with his chest. "What did he say?" she prompts after his continued silence.

Sirius' brows pinch together as he glares at the ground. "It was weird. He was threatening me, saying that our father is going to, quote on quote, run me into the ground." Cressida feels her own gut clench, imagining herself throwing numerous curses at Orion Black. "But he wasn't just threatening me," Sirius continues. "It was like he was warning me. He sends letters home, and maybe he knows something I don't."

"Maybe," Cressida agrees gently. His eyes linger on her face, searching for either affirmation or a lie. Exhaling gradually, Cressida pushes herself back up, pulling a knee to her chest. "I know you don't like admitting it, but you love your brother and from what I know, you were really close before Hogwarts."

Pausing, she waits for something more to give away his thoughts at her words. Sirius blinks, eyes hazing around. Then he sits up, facing the opposite way and gathering courage, looks back at her.

"Trust in yourself," she presses, resting a hand on his knee. "You're both protecting your own ways of life and I know that you don't agree with his choices but you're different people. I also know that you try to protect him-" his throat bobs with an uneasy shift, "- so maybe he is trying to do the same."

He nods meekly, his gaze turning towards the lake. "I don't know how to protect him anymore, Cress. You've seen the people he hangs around. They're all Death Eaters in the making."

"Maybe," whispers Cressida once more. She doesn't have the answers, and she won't pretend to. "I think the only thing you can do, is whatever feels right. Nobody can fault you for that, not even yourself." Feeling the conversation coming to an end, she shifts around to face the same way, looking over the lake as he does. "Shit weather," she muses off-handed.

"Warm enough for a swim, you reckon?"

Cressida scoffs, glancing over her shoulder to joke about the likely freezing temperature of the lake, only to be met with a roguish grin, framed by long black hair. Her previously humoured lips drop like a rock in water, head beginning to shake. "N-Sirius! No."

The mischief on him only grows, leaping from the ground. Cressida's arms are yanked upwards. She digs her heels into the ground, but the sloping of the ground works against her. As the water grows closer, their laughter and her squeals grow louder.

Cressida scrunches her eyes as crisp water embraces her feet, drenching the bottom of her pants. Sirius cackles, splashing his feet around to flick more water up at her. "You're right, it is a bit cool." She shoves him hard – hard enough that he stumbles back, arms flailing about but there is nothing to grasp but the air. Droplets of water hit her face as Sirius collides with the shallow water, being enveloped entirely. Before he can rise to pull her in, Cressida quickly wades backwards, laughing just as he was before as Sirius emerges. His black hair even darker than before, sticking to his face and neck.

"You look like a wet dog," she chuckles.

Sirius shakes his head, sending water flying in all directions, unbothered by the chilliness that she so desires to get away from. "That is a good idea," he announces. He stands up, water dripping from his body, clothes hanging heavily. In less than a second, his human body is replaced by a large black dog.

"Sirius," she hisses, eyes darting around. He barks, running around along the edge of the lake. She eyes off the usual spots that other students like to hang around, estimating the distance from their own position to the castle windows. "Someone could see you."

The dog slows, panting already and looks up at the castle then back to her. Then he's bolting off again towards the far side of the lake. Cressida jogs off after him, a tired laugh bubbling as he sprints around in a wide circle. She remembers what they had all felt like as animals. Other worries disappeared – you only knew what was at the front of your mind. She can offer him that luxury.

Perching on a large rock, Cressida watches fondly as he makes his own entertainment; rolling on the grass, chewing a stick, chasing a bird. It is still hard to comprehend that it is an actual person and not just a stray dog. If she spoke to him, he'd understand every word.

After some time, his panting form trots over towards the rock, sluggishly clambering up. "Worn yourself out?" she questions, expecting no response. He whines softly, flopping down next to her legs. "Hmm," she hums, petting his head. "You're a cute dog." Splotches of dampness grow around her trousers. "But you're wet," she mutters, shuffling an inch over. Sirius whines again, using his paws to shift himself back over to her side, resting his soaked head over her knee. Cressida narrows her eyes at him. "If you weren't a dog, I'd smack you for that."