Chapter 21: R.A.B
Cressida stares blankly at the potion bottle on her nightstand. It's a strange blueish-purple colour in a clear vial with a cork stopper. It's been sitting there for two days now. Lily had brought it for her from Madam Pomfrey – of course Lily had. She isn't quite sure what it is; maybe a calming potion? Maybe something for a stomach bug. That's what she had told her dorm mates had overcome her.
It's a Monday, which means she's missed a day of school and the dread of being behind in a NEWT course is already well on its way to her. She has to force herself out of bed by tomorrow morning.
The idea of looking him in the eyes, knowing that he's also feeling humiliated is hard to swallow. The awkward process of trying to ignore whatever happened between them would be harder. And pretending that it hasn't affected her at all is going to be the hardest. That's why she hasn't left her dorm since she retreated to it two days ago. Because Cressida isn't sure she can pretend any longer. And that's all she can think about. All that her mind focuses on doing – pretending that she doesn't feel anything. There have been far too many slip-ups.
Marlene hadn't let her sleep peacefully either, making sure to note how the boys have been disrupting her day by running her down with questions. Marlene told her to suck up her pride and go down to the Hospital Wing, but it isn't her pride that's stopping her from going. It's the lack of stairs turning into a slide that keeps her alone for most of the day.
Well after curfew, and the shuffling of her dormmate's sheets quieten, Cressida cautiously pushes the blankets off her legs. Tucking her wand into her slippers that rise to her calf, the soft soles make near no noise along the floor as she slips out of the dorm.
The Tower is eerily silent, even for midnight but rather than send a shiver down her spine and cause her to turn back into the comfort of her bed, it only fills her with a sense of confidence and aloneness. And the loneliness isn't so bad. In fact, it's comforting and what Cressida needs.
Managing to sneak out through the portrait without waking the Fat Lady, she sticks close to the walls and watches intently for any movement of shadow that would come from either the Prefects or Filch. Without the Invisibility Cloak, there's nothing to hide her away if she does run into someone.
Merlin she's craving a good meat pie.
With heat and power building up with each step closer and no sign of the Prefects, the first sensation of actual contentedness in days builds up. Food, quiet, her own thoughts. Clear thoughts. Ones that make plans and tell her it's going to be alright.
With the kitchen just a few turns away, Cressida could be near skipping. Instead, she comes to a skidding halt as a dark figure swings around the corner that she had been intending to go down.
There's enough light from a nearby fire column to illuminate both their faces. Unexpectedly, it is not the face of a Prefect or a growling Filch, or even Mrs Norris. It is the face of someone that she almost mistakes for Sirius if it weren't for the shorter hair and slightly thinner frame.
Regulus is just as shocked as her, taking a sharp step back and his hand rising to his chest where she presumes his wand lays. They take each other in, in a moment of silence and stillness. Cressida hasn't gone to reach for her wand, but her eyes train carefully on his wand hand. "What are you doing out?" he demands.
"I'm hungry." There's no point in lying to him which would only make her sound suspicious. "Mid-night cravings. I'm sure you've had them. I think that gives me the liberty of asking the same to you."
Regulus scowls at her. "Hungry? Where are you going to get food at an hour like this?"
Cressida shrugs, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "The kitchen. It's just around the corridor." Her eyes scan him over, noting with slight relief that his wand hand has dropped back to his side. She'd rather not get into a duel. "You didn't answer my question."
Regulus seems to debate the honesty behind her answer, likely deciding whether he should lie or not. His chin lifts higher subtly, in a way that she wonders if he even realises he does it or not. "The library," he responds. "Restricted section if you're that nosey."
Cressida glances down at the small bag at his side. "Why?" She is that nosey.
"Why?" he spits. "I don't have to tell you."
"Will you tell me if I tell you where the kitchen is?"
Her actions are out of control recently. She has no idea where that offer came from and frankly, she doesn't really care about why Regulus went to the restricted section. It's filled with advanced, and often darker sides of magic. But she also wants to know why. What he went in search for. She wouldn't have the same curiosity for just any Slytherin – and Cressida knows this – but he's Sirius' brother and that makes him a little more interesting to the rest. It's like seeing a different side to her own friend that she's always had an inkling that he hides away. Or maybe it's the other way around and Regulus is more like his brother then he lets on. It's a strange thing to be curious about, but she is.
"Why would I care where the kitchen is when I eat at the Great Hall three times a day already?" he counters swiftly. "Unlike you who hasn't shown up in a while now."
"Flattered that you noticed," she quips back with a sarcastic smile. "And as I said, I'm sure you get midnight cravings." He still doesn't give any inclination of the thoughts behind that stoic face of his. Cressida is sure she has never seen anything else besides disgust on there anyway. "I can't exactly get you into trouble without dragging myself down now, can I?" Shaking her head with a tired sigh, she says, "Well, that's where I'm going and you are free to follow me if you so desire."
That would speed up his choice-making. Cressida, with her own chin held higher than it has been in days, strides past him without looking over her shoulder. It takes her seven steps before she hears his own disgruntled sigh and a sly smile forms on her mouth. "Where are your friends?"
"As far as I'm aware, in bed."
The odd pair walk in silence towards the kitchens, neither daring to speak and ruin whatever moment of even odder peace between them. They make it to the corridor with the painting that has the ticklish pair with no more run-ins with unexpected guests.
Their breaths catch as the portrait swings open and a few pairs of feet jump out from behind the wall. Cressida takes a quick step back, her arm snapping out and pushing herself and Regulus against the closest wall. Tugging her wand from her boot, she casts a disillusion charm on them both and they blend in with the stone wall behind them.
Her friend's voices are painfully familiar – all four of them. Guilt bubbles in her stomach but she quickly shuts the feeling down. Cressida has never purposefully hidden away from them like this before. Fortunately, James doesn't bring out the Invisibility Cloak yet, keeping it a well-kept secret that it has been since their first year.
Peter, Remus, James, and Sirius pass by them, whispering under their breaths about something that her ears can't distinguish. They don't look overly happy, but they're not upset either.
"I thought you said they were in bed," Regulus growls, stepping away from the wall to break her charm as soon as they are out of earshot.
Cressida does the same, keeping her wand in hand this time just in case. "I said as far as I was aware," she growls back. "Clearly, I was not aware." She tickles the pear on the painting which swings open once more. Regulus steps back to avoid its path, his eyes widening slightly as Hogwarts' kitchen reveals itself to him. "There should be a House-Elf around somewhere. You can ask for almost anything that you see at a feast." With a second glance at him, she adds in a firmer tone, "Just don't be rude to them. They're nice creatures."
His tongue pokes his cheek. "I see you've placed me in the stereotype already."
"And you haven't placed me in one?" she counters. "You haven't exactly given me a reason to separate you from the manic purebloods that the rest of Slytherin seems to harbour."
"Haven't I?" Cressida narrows her eyes at him, admittedly wondering when exactly she had decided that he was like them all. She hadn't really decided it for herself – Sirius had done that for her. And she believes him completely. Sirius wouldn't lie, but he also expressed a love for his brother that he didn't share with the majority of his family. "Why are you avoiding them?"
"Who?"
"Those Gryffindor bastards you call friends."
Cressida turns her head away. "I'm not. I just didn't want to be caught sneaking you to the kitchens."
"So that's why you haven't been seen with them since just after the match on Saturday?" he drawls out in the most sarcastic and tonal voice she's ever heard from him. "It's the talk of Hogwarts if you're not aware. Everybody is wondering what happened between you and Potter."
Her head snaps back. "Me and James? Why do they assume it was something between us? I fight with Sirius all the time." Cressida isn't sure what emotion is curdling in her stomach, but it isn't a wonderful feeling.
Regulus leans against the bench nonchalantly, almost looking mirthful. "Rumour has it, that he punched his own Chaser just before the two of you went to talk alone and then you haven't been seen with him since. Rumour also has it that some things went down in the boys' dormitory that you're now ashamed of."
Cressida visibly blanches at the suggestion. She hadn't heard these rumours – but her friends have been. James has. And she hasn't been there to disprove them.
"So?" Regulus continues. "Is it rumour has it, or truth be told?"
Feigning disinterest, Cressida leans back against the same bench, folding her arms. "I thought it was rumour has it that Sirius and I were a thing."
"And it is. Which is why this new revelation is such big news." He scoffs loudly. "I didn't believe whatever went on between you two for a second and my brother knew that."
"Sirius stills cares for you, you know," Cressida declares, changing the subject on him once again. "He wouldn't admit it aloud, and definitely not to your face. But unless you go so far as to murder someone he cares about, I doubt that he will ever stop caring."
Regulus' eyes turn back to the stoic darkness. "Well I don't. And you can tell him that. He's a blood traitor."
Cressida sighs quietly, not quite believing his words. In all truth, Regulus interests her more than a lot of things do these days. He's the epitome of her enemy. Slytherin. Pureblood. Part of one of those manic families that think they're royal because of their blood. He's friends with people who intend to wipe her out one day or another. Yet, his hatred of her is almost passive. Like he can only be bothered to insult her if she does so first. And that is giving her the chance to actually figure out what goes in their minds. It's probably a chance she won't get with anybody else. This is what Snape and Lily were, only without the obsessive, one-sided love.
And with that realisation, comes another more horrid one. If her friends ever figured out that she's had these strange encounters with Regulus, they're sure to see the similarities of Lily and Snape, and whatever immunity Regulus had before from their jinxes and hexes would evaporate in an instant. Especially if she ever let it slip that he has called her a Mud-blood. James would be livid, and Sirius… well Sirius is unpredictable.
Changing the conversation once more, she gestures to his bag. "What book did you get?"
Regulus isn't off-put by her question, as though he has been expecting it with where their topic was going. He unlatches the clasp and pulls out a dark, leather-covered book that's the length of his forearm and the width of a flat hand. 'Magick Moste Evile'.
"Charming," she quips mockingly.
Regulus chuckles – a strange sound – and runs his fingers down the spine. "You have to be careful with it. If you open or close it the wrong way, it lets out this ungodly wail. Severus warned me."
"What do you even want to know from a book like that?" she wonders, not bothering to hide her disgust.
Regulus stares at the book, then looks at her with an intensity that makes her shift her feet. "I want to know what I'm getting into," he says. "It may be useful to read this stuff, even if I don't ever use it. Even you could use it. Know your enemy, am I right?"
Cressida looks at the book. "Perhaps." Tearing her eyes away, she blinks rapidly to wash away her thoughts. "As I said, you can find a House-Elf if you want something to eat. I'm going to head back."
She almost makes it to the door before Regulus calls back out to her. "You have to hum," he calls out. Cressida frowns, looking at him back over her shoulder. "The book. If you want to open it without it screaming."
Her eyes flicker down to the worn pages. "I didn't ask." With that, she marches back out and hears nothing more from the strange Slytherin boy, despite the fact she hadn't gotten any food.
As the next few chapters may be a little...unsatisfying, I am presenting you with a five-chapter update in consolation. (And thanks to KelseyBl partially). Since I am way ahead in writing, every Saturday/Sunday I will post two chapters per day until it catches up to the planned schedule - which I'm guessing will be a month or so.
Also just to add (and this is NOT regarding any previous comment, but more for future reference), please do be mindful in the (mostly) later chapters about how you might criticise the actions of characters. This is more addressed to a platform where I also post that has a more interactive comment section but I'll add it here too. These characters obviously won't see them, but people who have potentially been in similar traumatic situations (that will be more apparent in the end of Part 2 and Part 3) might and it could inflict a sense of guilt if they see people saying 'you should have done this' or 'that was so stupid of her' etc if it reflects their own actions. This does not correlate to just general actions and teenage idiocracy (which you are free to criticise and rant as much as you want lol) but there will be more sensitive situations that will arise and you will know them when they do. Basically, just keep sympathy and an open mind :)
Again, this is not directed at any comments here and doesn't apply just of yet but something to keep in mind.