Chapter 19: Self-Love and Confessions

Lily irately brushes through her hair in front of their shared bathroom mirror, as per their usual routine. Cressida is pulling up her grey socks, spending an inordinate amount of time lacing her shoes.

"And then he had the audacity to flirt with me in front of all the teachers," she splutters. Her green eyes are wide and glaring at the mirror, darting over her shoulder's reflection towards her dorm mates' who are also getting ready for the morning. "I swear I hate this boy."

Cressida sighs, marching towards the bathroom. "You know," she says off-handed, "if you say it enough times, you might start to believe it." Picking up her own comb, she gives Lily's reflection a pointed look before turning back around and leaving the bathroom. "It's called manifestation," she adds loudly. "Or something like that."

Flopping back on her bed, Cressida can't help but watch Lily fuss over her appearance for the day. There's nothing wrong with the way she looks, yet there she stands in front of the mirror, picking at the tiniest details. Maybe it's that effort that makes her more attractive. The way her socks perfectly line up on her calves and the way there's almost no frizz in her hair even by the end of the day. The way her skin is pale yet not ghostly and always with a rosiness on her cheeks.

Marlene lies on her bed, flicking through a book without a care in the world about getting ready. Yet her blonde hair fans out in a perfect halo. Her eyebrows are always neatly shaped, and her lips are already naturally tinted a rose-like red.

Two opposites, yet entirely the same – making boy's heads turn from all angles.

Cressida glances towards the mirror that's visible from the bathroom, just seeing her face in the bottom corner. It's no wonder her friends are guys. They aren't nervous around her. They don't get flustered. She never became a romantic pursuit and that made her one of them.

"Alright, let's go before we miss breakfast," Lily finally announces, settling for her final look.

Marlene tosses the book aside, leaping from her bed. "Finally!" Lily laughs at her antics, striding through the room to Marlene's side and they link arms. "Coming Cress?"

Cressida glances down at her uneven socks. "I'll catch up," she smiles at them. Marlene nods, switching her focus back to her best friend as they leave the dorm. Cressida's smile falters as her throat tightens. She twists around her socks, pulling them up the slightest bit, then back down then to the side so the seams don't look crooked.

Then she goes to the bathroom to face the mirror. There's a small halo of frizz around her face from her baby hairs. Grabbing her comb, Cressida leans close to the mirror and tries to brush them down. But with each stroke, the strands just become worse. Tossing the comb aside, her hands latch onto either side of the sink, diverting her eyes downwards so she doesn't have to see it anymore. There's an array of bottles and sprays with different labels and colours ranging from bright pink to lime green.

One catches her eye, with a picture of sleek hair. A muggle product that Cressida has seen before in the supermarket. A mousse or something. Snatching it from its spot, she hastily shakes the product then squirts a small blob into her hand. The foaminess is odd to touch and almost disappears when it spreads so she puts it to her hair, focusing around the edges. It dries almost instantly, and the results are incredible. Though the hairs are stiffer than usual, the frizz is subdued.

It's not an amazing transformation from before, but it's more than Cressida usually does in the mornings. Making final touches like making sure there are no creases in her blouse tucking and that her red and gold tie is at the perfect length, Cressida smiles towards herself in the mirror with a newfound sense of confidence.

Eagerly hopping down the stairs to the near empty Common Room, she heads straight out, knowing her friends would already be waiting in the Great Hall.

As she strides closer to the large open doors, an unexpected bout of nerves rattles her bones. Does she look any different? She feels different. The sensation curdles in her stomach but it doesn't slow her pace and Cressida turns easily into the Hall and straight towards the Gryffindor table.

The smile that her lips have been donning since the bathroom tweaks up and down repetitively with each step, already spotting the familiar set of heads. Nobody's head turns at her entrance but that doesn't matter, it's theirs that does.

Her eyes dart from seat to seat, but each one is filled already by another. The two groups that usually sit far enough away from each other that they can't hear the opposite complain, are now mingled together into one large group. James sits opposite Lily, who sits next to Mary then Remus and then Peter. On the other side, James sits next to Sirius then Marlene. The seats next to Sirius have already been taken by another group that knows no personal boundaries, but the boy hardly seems to care as he engages fully into a boisterous conversation with Marlene and Remus.

Cressida's feet stagger. She hadn't expected to have to weave her way in somewhere. There's usually a wide space left just for her. Swallowing that pride, her feet are forced to continue. Nobody even glances at her.

No longer with even a reminiscence of a smile, Cressida slides into the furthest seat from them all on Peter's left. Nobody offers her a greeting except a meek smile from Peter, so she doesn't bother trying to give them any and sets her focus onto filling her plate.

Not much of it makes it to her mouth.

"Oi! Cress!" Finally with an ounce of attention, her eyes snap to James on the far end who's grinning madly. "You can help me with Charms right?"

Cressida nods. "Sure," she answers back.

James' grin widens, his won attention turning to the person opposite. "See, Evans? I don't need your help."

And it all comes crashing back down. Her fork clatters against the ceramic plate, completely done with the idea of food. Uncomfortable heat flushes her cheeks and back and the curdling nerves from before have now fermented into a loathing for her own body that Cressida has never felt before.

Xx

If there is a god, then they've pinched the hands of time and made Cressida's day unbearable slow and unforgiving. And it's made even longer by Quidditch practise that afternoon.

It's still an unusual thing, even after a few weeks to be training in a completely different position. Really, she doesn't do much but practice different dives and twists like the Chasers do, just with less teamwork. In fact, they don't really interact with her at all. They have no need to.

Cressida doesn't want to be the Seeker. Never did and still doesn't. It's lonelier than hanging around the posts all training. At least the Chasers would come up to her then. And the Beaters work together.

With half an hour still left on their schedule, Cressida calls her own training off early and flies down towards their Prep tent. With nothing else to do but wait for James' post-training talk, she lays down on one of the benches and covers her face with her arm.

After almost exactly half an hour, the tent begins to fill back up.

"Hufflepuff won't know what hit them!"

"Oh, they'll know, because it'll be the bludger I send them."

"Just don't get us any more penalties this time Black."

"No promises."

Her arm slides from her face, nearly jolting as someone crouches beside her. James smiles softly, offering her a water canteen. "You alright?" She nods silently, sitting up. "You came in early."

Swallowing, she manages, "Sorry."

The right side of his mouth perks up more than the other. "Do I sound upset?" Taking her silence for an answer, he pushes the canteen into her hands. "I'm sorry I didn't focus on you today. Mostly trying to get our new Keeper up to speed but we can practice together this weekend if you want. Just you and me. Maybe Sirius if he behaves."

"I didn't think much of it. But yeah, I probably need some more training before the match."

James nods easily. "We can go over a few tactics I was reading up about over the Summer. Practice some snitch races."

Cressida nods again, but her eyes scan the tent. "Sounds good, but you should probably address your team before they get antsy." And they already are; calling out about it being nearly dinner time, that they've got homework to do, or just plain old sleep. James laughs breathlessly, smirking at his team. As he stands up to address them, Sirius sits down next to her with a heavy slump, his heels digging into the grass.

His words a blur to her ears – and they probably don't even apply to her. Not with such an isolated position. All she has to do is catch a small golden ball with wings and they win the game. Most likely anyways. Unless their opponent is so far ahead but she'd probably catch it just to end their humiliation. Not that it would ever happen.

"-See you lot on Friday!" James claps his hands to end their session only five minutes overtime. The tent fills with groans of relief and the Gryffindor team files out of the tent at a remarkable speed. Cressida dusts off her knees that have nothing on them and bends down to pick up her training bag. "I dibs the shower first," James taunts Sirius.

"Ah, that's fine," Sirius replies in an even and low tone. "Cress and I will actually catch up with you later."

James' smile dimmers, his hazel eyes shifting between them. He nods once. "Sure." With that, he leisurely saunters towards the tent's flaps.

Cressida watches him until he disappears behind the material wall then looks back to Sirius with raised brows. The dark-haired boy is hunched over, elbows driving into his knees. His throat bobs with a thick gulp. "What's wrong?" she asks immediately.

Sirius' mouth opens but it takes a few seconds before a croaky chuckle passes his lips. "Nothing really. I just… have something to tell you."

Turning more in her seat towards him, her mind races with the possibilities. Nothing stands out. If he's in trouble somehow, James would be here with her. Maybe it has something to do with his old home – or his brother. But again, James would be here.

"Do I need to be scared?"

Sirius' jaw drops a little more but he quickly shakes his head. "No! No…" He trails off in another nervous laugh. "I don't think so. In saying that, I don't know exactly how you're going to take it though. I'm not sure what you're going to think of me and that makes me nervous," he confesses.

Dark and innocent eyes meet hers. Cressida reaches out, taking his hand in her own and threads her fingers through.

"I haven't told anybody yet. But it's been on my mind for a few years now and I think I finally want to say it. I just-" he takes a long shaky breath and clenches his eyes shut, "-fuck I don't know how to say it."

In all honesty, whatever this is, is quite out of the blue. Usually when there's something on his mind, everybody can tell, but today she hadn't the faintest idea. Though she had been caught up in her own world of pity.

"I can wait," she assures him, bringing their joined hands up so she can press a kiss to the back of his hand. "If you're not ready I can wait."

Sirius shakes his head, squeezing his fingers around her. "I want to. I need to." He runs his hand down his face, the skin tugging under the friction. Then he turns to her, a leg on either side of the bench and his other hand coming to lay over the one already holding his. "This might explain some things to you, or it might make you confused or it might-"

"It might do a lot of things," she interjects softly, "but you'll never know for sure unless you say it." His chest rises and lowers in deep draws of air, overcome by a sudden stillness. Knowing he needs a simple push, she questions, "tell me what you're thinking about."

And he answers.