Chapter 17: Where Sirius is the Responsible One

Cressida's fists are turning a stark shade of white, but her cheeks are a flaming red. The potions classroom is filled with a plethora of odds smells as the student's concoctions perfume the air. But it's not the smell that's bothering her. It's the sound. The sound of James Potter flirting with Lily Evans.

They aren't even partners. She and James had been partners when they walked into class together and he seemed perfectly content until Evans strode in and sat at the same large table as Remus and Sirius, and partnered with Alicia Kinsley, another sixth year Gryffindor. Faster than Cressida could even conjure a thought, James quickly offered to swap with Sirius. Cressida's mouth had opened to argue but quickly realised how irrational that would sound and stayed silent as he packed his things up.

Lily Evans doesn't even seem overly bothered by it. She rolls her eyes, offers a quick retort but not once does Cressida hear her snipping tone that she's accustomed following James' usually pathetic attempts.

Her hand is snatched up by another's, their fingers forcing hers apart. Cressida tears her eyes off the scene feet away and quickly releases her tight fist that Sirius is so adamantly trying to pull apart. "Merlin, Cress," he hisses, nicking the contents that she held back into his own possession. "I asked you to cut that up ten minutes ago."

Cressida glances down at their simmering cauldron which has a sharp scent that makes her nose sting. "Sorry."

Sirius takes the job into his own hands, roughly slicing the valerian root stem. "Here I am," he mutters in rambling, "being the responsible one in class and telling you to focus. Why on earth do I even care? Oh that's right, I need a good grade to become an Auror. Why do I even want to be an Auror? Why can't I be a…a-a Herbologist."

"Because you don't like Herbology," Cressida grumbles, slouching against their table.

Sirius drops the valerian root into the potion which sizzles and slurps. He gives her a sarcastic smile. "I like it better than potions," he hisses through his teeth which makes him look manic with the wide smile. "And I wish James didn't swap with me. I had a decent potions partner."

Knowing that he's growing agitated at her abandonment of the lesson, Cressida picks up the glass rod and stirs the potion as the instructions say to – but not without a short glare in his direction as she does. "If it makes you feel better, I don't think anybody is content except for James." They glance back at the table, noting Remus' tired and longing gaze pointed at his and James' shared cauldron which the latter isn't even near.

Their mouths lift up, sharing a moment of amusement and their previous agitations at each other forgotten. "He's like a bull this year, isn't he?" Cressida points out. "I don't think there's a day gone past this past week he isn't parading around in front of her. It's worse than fourth year."

"Don't remind me," Sirius grumbles, preparing the next ingredient. "That poem he wrote her back then and-…" Cressida peers out of the corner of her eye as Sirius cuts himself off. His lips press tightly, offering a remorseful smile. "You alright?"

Cressida nods quickly, placing on a faux smile that feels real but tiring. "I'm fine. It's not like I haven't seen this before." Placing the rod down she goes back to reading over the next steps to their concoction. "I'd rather one of us be happy than both miserable."

"So you're not fine. You're miserable."

Cressida only sighs, offering him a meek smile. "Pass me the knife." He shoves it in her direction, and she makes the mistake of letting her earlier thoughts rearise while she cuts into the Sopophorus beans. They're a pain to cut into and shoot out if you don't use the blade at the right angle. One particularly curved one just doesn't wish to conform to the fate of the other three so Cressida tries to encircle it completely with her fingers so it cannot move while she presses down on the knife.

"Ah!" Slughorn cries in glee. "Well done, Severus!" The class, half filled with glares, the other with a gleam of pride look over towards Snapes' table who is clearly ahead of the rest of the class. "The perfect shade of lilac."

"How is he already half-way?" Sirius mutters, peering down into their own potion which is worryingly not matching the description in the book.

Distracting herself with formulating a cocky and rather snakish remark, Cressida is only able to elicit a sharp hiss as the blade of the knife slices through the skin of her finger. The metal clangs against the table as she shakes her hand close to her side. "Bloody hell." The cut is nothing worthy of Madame Pomfrey, being only a shallow line but her eyes linger on the beads of blood pooling above the skin. Her eyes won't move from it and the whole room shrinks around her. The blood doesn't mean much. Not when only a few weeks ago she had been covered in it and now only has the memories to even know it was real.

The red disappears behind a neatly folded tissue that is wrapped around her finger by a foreign hand. "Don't get blood on my textbook. They're expensive, you know?"

Cressida huffs a short chuckle, taking responsibility of pressing the tissue down and around her finger. "I do know."

Xx

Today is a day that Cressida really wants to pass over. The outlook of tomorrow isn't much better but at least the height of it would be over. On the other side of the tower is the boy's dormitory where James is currently putting together the final list of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It would be posted on the noticeboard any second now.

The boys hadn't even invited her up to their room and Cressida longingly watched the four boys excitedly tear their ties off their necks as they jumped up the spiral staircase. Maybe they didn't feel the need to invite her – she does always just follow them up but today it just felt right to wait for an invitation. And it never came.

Cressida pulls her red duvet up closer to her chin, tucking it close to her neck. Her homework is spilled out along her bedside table with no intention of being done this afternoon. She just wants to fall asleep and miss the rest of the day in her dreams.

She knows in her bones that her name won't appear under Keeper on that list and she doesn't wish to find out today. She does wish that James at least had the balls to tell her beforehand rather than let her face the humiliation that she did last year. But Cressida wouldn't let herself go down there and let people gossip and speculate. They'd do that without her there anyways.

The dormitory door swings open with a haughty redhead striding through. "Potter's asking for you," she announces, flouncing towards her own bed where she pulls the tie from her hair and begins massaging her scalp. "He just released the team."

"Okay," Cressida responds, eyes not moving from her wand that sits atop of her book pile.

Lily pauses her massage, raising her brows. "That confident about making the team that you don't even need to check?" she laughs. "I suppose I would be too if I was that close with the Captain."

Cressida blinks slowly with a long exhale. "I'm not on the team Lils." There's no point in denying it aloud. "I don't need to go check that."

Lily stands from her bed, sauntering over to Cressida's and leans against the post. "What? Of course you are. Merlin's socks, Potter wasn't even Captain last year for two minutes before he kicked Andrews off. What's gotten that idea in your head." Her arms cross with unfaltering confidence that she constantly carries with her.

Cressida only sighs, shrugging and closing her eyes. "I've known for about a week. You can go check the list for yourself if you want."

"I will," Lily concedes hastily. "I don't quite believe you."

Cressida turns on her back to respond huffily that she has no reason to not believe her but Lily's heels are already out of the door. The silence is both overwhelming but welcome and she can't figure out if the ringing in her ear is real or not. In only a matter of minutes, Lily is re-entering the dorm with a lot less fuel in her step than before. "Hackley," she mutters.

Hackely. So it was the third year boy who took her spot. Maybe this is the world telling her that Quidditch isn't her thing anymore.

"I don't understand why James would replace you. I mean I don't really follow the game but you were good and-"

"I appreciate it, Lily but I'm really not in the mood to talk about it." Lily promptly seals her lips, eyes fluttering about the otherwise empty room. Fortunately she turns away and heads back towards her bed because tears spring in Cressida's eyes and she doesn't have the energy to push them back down. On a more positive note, she doesn't have the energy to sob either.

Merlin, is she never going to be the best option in James Potter's eyes? He's closer to Sirius than he is to her, he prefers Lily over her, and now in Quidditch, a third year with rudimentary skill is a better option.

The door swings open again, an exhausted and loud Marlene strutting through. "Merlin's pants, Cressida. Can you go down there so Potter will stop bothering me?"

"Well tell the toe-rag that she's sleeping," Lily snaps back with just as much frustration. "I can't believe he has the audacity to ask her that right now." Cressida smiles into her pillow, once again, a longing of friendship battling the jealously that usually reigns when it comes to Lily.

Marlene glances down at Cressida with hardened eyes that narrow slightly before leaning out of the dorm. Leaning back in, Marlene raises her hands in surrender. "I have no idea what's going on, but that boy just busted his lip because the stairs turned into a slide on him and I'm beginning to doubt that it's going to hold him at bay forever."

"Is it sort of sexist that ours turn to slides and their don't?" Lily wonders off-handed. "Maybe I should bring that up in the next prefect meeting."

Marlene flops against her own bed. "Please don't," she groans. "If Cress can't go to their dorm, then they'd probably hang around downstairs more often." Lily makes a noise of disgruntled agreement. Their conversation drifts into something to do with Dorcas who graduated last year who has joined some organisation that is fighting against the rise of the Dark Lord. Cressida muses silently that it must be the same thing that the twins and Elias joined.

Part of Cressida is perfectly fine with the notion of staying huddle in her blankets for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring the existence of her friends and wallowing in self-pity. But there's another part to her that is just desperate to know why. Why is she not good enough? And she'd have to demand that answer one day or another.

Kicking the blanket off, Cressida marches straight to the dormitory door without a glance anywhere else. With the most nonchalant expression she can conjure and at a much slower pace, her feet thud against each step. She can't let them see that she's upset – Cressida knows her spots gone. And it doesn't affect her – to them.

The excitement of the team announcement has already died as students have gone back to lounging around the tower. A group of first years, still to big as they haven't yet formed their small cliques, take over the lounge in front of the fire. Sirius is leaning against the wall near them, glaring at the youngsters. He likes having 'his' spot.

"Hey," James calls softly from the bottom of the stairs. There's a hesitant smile on his face that is tainted by blood from his busted lip Marlene mentioned. He's nervous, she observes. Keeping the flat expression, Cressida smiles back tightly. "You haven't had a look at the team yet."

Her smile flattens whilst her anger grows in its place. "No," she agrees. "But I already know who's on it."

The already weak smile he holds falters. "You're… not happy," he murmurs. He runs a rough hand down his face, glancing over his shoulder towards Sirius then back at her. "I'm sorry, I thought about asking you, but I wasn't sure how'd you take it."

Cressida swallows, tightly folding her arms. "How'd you think I take it?" she spits under her breath. "Can you at least tell me why Hackley? Why he's better than me?"

James scoffs, shaking his head. "No, he's definitely not better than you," he laughs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black pants. Cressida's brows raise in… astonishment. Complete and utter disbelief. "But he would have been a worse Seeker."

"Hold up," Cressida breathes shakily, unfurling her arms and bracing them in front of her, gripping at the air. "I'm not sure I completely understand here. Why am I not the Keeper if I'm better than Hackley?"

"Because we have good enough Chasers to deal with a half-arsed Keeper," he responds quickly with another small chuckle. Why in Merlin's name is he laughing at her? At her aghast expression, which is not hidden behind any wall of nonchalance, his own smile drops. "Have…. Do you even know who the entire team is?"

Her hands drop to her sides, shrugging. "I have a good idea."

James stares at her, mouth agape and she stares right back. Next thing she knows, her wrist is being pulled along by his tight grip towards the notice board. "Look," he commands, placing her in front of the slightly crinkled parchment. The Chasers are the same as last years, there's a new Beater below Sirius' name. Hackley is under the title of Keeper. She wants to stop there but simply out of instinct her eyes trail down to finish the list which ends with the Seeker.

Hawthorne.

"What?" she breathes. "But… but I didn't try out for Seeker, James. I never have."

James nods slowly. "I know. Which is why I was hesitant about asking you. I knew you'd say no but I really think you're our best option." He lets out a shaky breath, reading over his team for himself again as though he hasn't thought about it a thousand times. "Everybody else was shit, but you're nimble and quick. And like I said, we can make up for having a bad Keeper, but we can't if we have a bad Seeker."

Cressida cups a hand over her mouth, an overwhelming sensation of relief washing down on her. Spinning around, she falls against the wall, sinking down to the ground.

"I told you, you should have told her," Sirius muses as he saunters towards them, finally tired of his glaring. He falls to a crouch on her side as James follows suit on her other side. "After what happened last year."

Cressida drops her hand, sighing loudly. "No, I'm fine. I just… spent the last week thinking that you didn't want me on the team." Her voice cracks with a shaky laugh.

James drops his head. "Fuck, I feel like a dick." He sinks lower to sit on the stone floor as well, swivelling around to sit shoulder to shoulder against the wall.

"I'm going to see if I can scare those first years away," Sirius mutters, standing up once more and strutting towards the tower's hearth. The seated pair chuckle to themselves, watching as the long-haired boy puts on a façade of intimidation.

"So," James whispers, looking at her rather than Sirius. "Will you be my Seeker?"

Cressida drops her stare to her lap. "I don't know how to be a Seeker, James. I've never played it before. I could be Chaser," she suggests. "You'd be a good Seeker."

James shakes his head with a warm smile. "I like being a Chaser. And I know you like being a Keeper but to be honest, you're the only person I'd trust out of everyone that came to try-outs to be the Gryffindor Seeker."

Cressida can't help but let the corners of her mouth tug upwards, but she tries to hide it under a ducked head. "You're trying to guilt-trip and flatter me into it."

"I'm trying to convince you," he corrects. "Which I already knew I'd have to."

Raising her eyes, she stares right into James' hazel ones. "And what are you going to do if I say no?" she taunts.

His lips smack together. "Um." He pauses, eyes fleeting around. "You can't, because your name is already on there," he stats slowly, wincing at his own weak argument. Cressida shakes her head as the slither of a smile forms into a wide grin.

"Next time, ask me before you do something like this. I don't have the emotional stamina to keep up with a shock like this." James nods easily with a bashful grin of his own. Leaning closer into his side, Cressida lifts the pad of her thumb to his lip, tugging it downwards slightly next to the split skin. "Why do you keep trying to get up our stairs?"

"Because you hide away up there," he answers quickly, head resting against the wall. "And I want to see you, but you don't come down. So technically this is your fault."

Cressida scoffs, hand dropping from his lip to slap his chest. "Don't you dare gaslight me. You're the idiot who thinks they can scale enchanted stairs." James laughs to himself, running his own thumb over the split, eyeing the speck of blood on this thumbpad. "Maybe you can ask Evans to kiss it better?"

His eyes glimmer with amusement, his hand dropping back into his lap. "What, you're not offering?" Forcing a smirk, Cressida shakes her head. James breathes heavily through his nose, pulling his knee close to his chest. "That's alright, I don't think I'd compare to Sirius anyway."

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