Chapter 9: Spilling
The breath of fresh air that they are gifted in the fields outside of the Potter manor is almost surreal. The grass is slightly overgrown, brushing against their calves and swaying in the light summer breeze.
Cressida marches in front of Sirius' guiding by the hand since she still doesn't completely trust him to follow without her extra push (pull).
Behind them is the manor, in front of them, many yards away is the beginning of the woods and the boundary that separates them from the muggle world. There are magical barriers put in place of course, similar but weaker than those used at Hogwarts that turns muggles away before they can wander into sight of wizards zipping around on brooms. It is their sanctuary. James' place has always been a sanctuary.
Once they reach far enough away from everything, Cressida stops, taking a moment to breathe in the air. Letting go of his hand, she spins around with an anticipating smile. "Do you want to go first?"
Sirius' brows are pinched, his throat bobbing in a dense gulp as he glances around the field before looking at Cressida with uncertainty. "Not really," he sighs.
Cressida nods, licking her lips in thought. "Alright," she mumbles. What has been on her mind? "I-'ve been so worried about our OWL result coming back that I accidentally pulled a chunk of my hair out the other day."
"You didn't scream it," he comments flatly.
"It builds up."
He blinks, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to say."
"Absolutely anything," she grins. Her head sways from side to side, thinking of something else and in a louder voice than before, says, "I really wish… you'd stop getting pissed whenever you're upset and just talk."
His mouth parts in a snarky chuckle then presses back together in thought. "I wish that you'd stop bothering me about talking when you still haven't admitted out loud to me after eight months your pathetic crush on James."
Cressida presses her lips together tightly, shaking her head as she tries not to laugh. Ignoring the place she knows he's trying to guide her, with hands firmly planted on her hips, she says, "I hate my father." If he wants to make her say something, then she'll play the same game to get him to do what she brought him out for. "He doesn't deserve my mother but she's also as naïve as a mouse."
"I hate my father too," Sirius responds, not quite yet shouting, but his voice raising above hers. "And my mother. I hate them all." With each word, his chest moves longer and deeper. Cressida nods in encouragement. He doesn't hate Regulus – but she's not here to debate him, she's here to make him talk.
"I told you once that it wasn't cowardly to admit your family is a pile of jerks and you asked why I didn't admit it then," she breathes. "Well fuck them! My mother is a coward! And my father doesn't give a single shit about anything other than laundering and drinking his life away!" Cressida shoves a finger at her chest. "They don't deserve my defences and they certainly don't deserve me!"
"Fuck yes!" Sirius cries, shaking her shoulders. Cressida laughs freely, head tipping backwards and gripping his arms right back. "I'm so sick of them using the word 'family' to try and keep me quiet!" He takes three steps backwards, hands interlocking on the top of his head. "'Don't disgrace your family' or 'you would do this to your own family?' Fuck that! Family doesn't do this to you." He lifts up the side of his shirt to reveal a horribly healing wound. Cressida' stomach drops but she reminds herself that he's also endured a lot worse on school grounds. He's already had the chance to be angry and this isn't the time to berate him for not telling her or James. Or maybe James already knows.
Instead, she grips the air with her fists. "I'm terrified that after we finish Hogwarts, we won't see each other often! You four stupid boys are all I have in this stupid world!"
Every sentence comes with a wash of free air and light-headedness, making the entire scene around her seem unreal.
"Leather is better than denim!"
Their faces are red and the skin on them pounding. Nothing they say has to make sense to the other. It just has to be said. "Blue is better than red!" Cressida screams with all her might.
Sirius takes a second to be offended but shouts right back at her. "Herbology is better than Charms!"
"James has better hair than you!"
"You said you liked my hair!" His fingers run through said hair, roughly shoving it back from the sides of his face as he grins to the sky, interlocking his fingers behind his head again. "I love those sappy romance movies that you and Remus always make me watch!"
"I love movie nights! But I don't like suggesting them because I know James and Peter get bored!"
"Can you fucking suggest them more! I want to watch two people confess their love in the rain in the middle of the night!"
"I don't even like Charms that much! People just said I was good at it so I kept trying hard and now I'm in a loop that I can't get out of!"
"I don't even like Quidditch that much!" Sirius shouts deafeningly. "I just play it to hang out with you two more!"
"I wish James wasn't the Captain because I feel like he's a different person on the pitch!" Cressida breathes hard, partially wishing she hadn't said that, but the other half is glad. "I never feel like enough when we're training because he's always so hard on me."
If the world couldn't hear them now, then the world is deaf and would never hear them.
"Some nights when I can't sleep, I want to take you all outside like I did with Reg when we were younger and teach you all the different constellations, but I don't because I think it'd bore the crap out of you!"
They now scream at each other, less than an arm's reach away. Cressida prepares herself, knowing the next thing she will say will be the last. "I'm in love with a bigoted, arrogant, boastful but annoyingly clever man who is in love with another woman!"
There isn't even a pause at the end of their words before they are quite literally screaming at each other; wordless. Just a pure string of the loudest and rawest sound their throats can create.
She grips his upper arms under a tight hold and he grips the side of her cotton shirt right back.
Their screeching comes to an end as they run out of breath, panting hard and swaying from side to side. She doesn't even have the air to laugh. Or cry.
Fucking hell, she loves James. That was the complete opposite of what she wanted when she first found out. Even after everything James has done to unintentionally drive her away, she's now deeper in whatever this is than before. Cressida realises she's just as mad as James himself. Maybe that's why she's falling for him, she notes bitterly.
"You're right," Sirius pants out slowly, "that felt good." His eyes glaze around on nothing in particular, words running through his head as her own does the same. He likes those romance movies? They could watch more. But she just admitted the one secret that was even a secret to her. "I feel like I know you a lot better. I didn't realise you didn't like Charms."
"And you don't like Quidditch?" she counters.
"It's not that I don't like it, but I'm not a fanatic like our friend is." He smiles through his heavy breathing. "You know that nothing is going to change right, after we leave Hogwarts? Maybe you can start crashing at my place once I get one. Hell, why don't you even live with me if you want."
Cressida opens her mouth to quickly deny the offer but changes her mind and quickly nods. "I'd love that. We can dance to David Bowie whenever we want to and have soundproof walls. And I'd love for you to teach me constellations, as long as you bring snacks."
He nods and Cressida can tell from the way his eyes soften that it means more than she imagined to him. "Let's stay out here a little longer." He looks past their shoulders to her right. "Let's wander through the woods."
Cressida agrees easily, romanticising the idea of a stroll through the woods in her head. She just can't get over how unreal the day feels. It's like one of those movies they watch on the projector or a strange dream. Something just displaces her from her own body.
She cannot decide if the feeling is good or not; maybe it is grey and not supposed to be good or bad.
They take their time walking towards the trees, a soft sway in their step that's almost a carelessness. Cressida wonders what James and his parents will think when they arrive back home later that afternoon to see a trashed bathroom, a patched-up Sirius, a delirious Cressida, both with scratchy voices and drunken walks. She said she'd come up with an explanation, so Sirius didn't have to say anything, but her mind runs empty. Maybe the truth is the best option.
"I'm thinking too much," Cressida declares as they walk through the thick of the trees. Before her head even snaps to the side, Sirius has disappeared and replaced with a black dog. "Ahead of me."
Cressida morphs herself into her Animagus form, the leaves and grass crunching under her large paws. A plethora of new scents waft past her nose, but they've done this enough times that she's used to the foreign tingling sensation and navigates to focus on the familiarity of Sirius and the same species of trees that surround the Shrieking Shack.
Sirius barks from beside her, trotting ahead. Cressida gives a haughty huff – her version of a bear laugh – and picks up her pace to trot alongside him. She wishes James was here with them. He'd probably be grumpy and sulky if he finds out that she and Sirius are having a leisurely stroll whilst he's stuck eating small cakes with the most pompous side of his family. Cressida probably would have joined him if Sirius wasn't there.
Bang
A gunshot sounds off in the distance.
Sirius comes to a skidding halt, his head high and alert as the tip of his nose twitches. Cressida also comes to a halt, breath catching in her throat.
Sirius' head stays pointed in one direction – east. Every muscle in his body is on alert and ready.
"Bloody hell! It's a bear!"
Hunters. How could they have forgotten?
"Get 'im boys! Mary will never believe this!"
Their animal ears twitch at the sound of hooves pressing hard into the ground. Cressida is stuck in place, eyes widening and feeling her entire world zone into the group of four- no, five – hunters on their horses that she can't yet see.
Sirius barks in her face, low and fiercely. Snapping out of her head, her muscles burst into action and her paws kick up the dirt as she races behind Sirius' dog form.
They're both fast. But they've never tested their speed against the finest breeds of England's horses. There is nothing but focus on Sirius' features, leading them both towards the Potter manor where the wards would drive the muggles away.
Another gunshot sounds in the distance and Cressida stumbles slightly but her determination to stay by Sirius' side keeps her going. That and the fear of what would happen if she were caught. A bear in England? Well, a dead bear by the time they catch up.
The running never seems to end; it's just more and more trees. And though her assumption about being fast is right it is her endurance that runs low. Her pants are loud and hard. And painful.
Finally, the dense brown blur of wood begins to shrink and a blue hue seeps through the branches. Then it disappears entirely and the trees stop growing and the hooves stop chasing them. Safe behind the wall of magic.
Cressida stops almost immediately, morphing back into a human girl. Her lips are dry and parted, breathing unsteadily.
Sirius slows to a jump trot, no doubt thriving on the adrenaline high of the chase. He barks loudly over his shoulder but the brazenness of his character falters. Just like she had before, he stares, unmoving.
She can feel it. She felt it as soon as it happened but refused to acknowledge it. "S-Sirius?" On her right shoulder, the light blue cotton of her shirt turns a murky red-brown. A patch that grows larger each second. "I think I need some help."
The dog turns back into a boy with dishevelled hair that looks wind-run and wild. In one second he's standing feet away, the next he's in front of her, wrapping her uninjured arm over his shoulders. She can hear him hissing under his breath. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He's breathing harder than her.
Cressida' lops her head to the side closest to him. "House. The house."
"I know," Sirius whispers, already hauling her towards the manor in the distance. "Don't faint please."
Cressida shakes her head. "Not planning on it."