Chapter 20: Innocent
Everything looks so innocent.
Parents kissing their children goodbye. Friends finding friends. The newest group of first years either crying or already on the train, forgetting to wave to their parents.
Cressida stands in the middle of her small group that are waiting to put their belongings in the train's storage carriage. Her eyes don't stop; moving from head to head. Who is it? Who is going to be the most infuriated to see her boarding the train once more? They've already used one of the three unforgivable curses against, her, what's stopping them from using another?
She finds their heads over the sea of shorter and younger students.
Avery.
Snape.
Mulicber.
Crouch.
Rosier.
It feels like every Slytherin she finds could be the one. One? There could be multiple. It could be the entire house. Alright, maybe that is a little too far fetched and house-typing. Though that's not exactly a crime she's innocent of.
Her trunk is yanked from her grip by an impatient Sirius who only rolls his eyes as she finally snaps back into the present. He heaves her bag to the train worker. "Let's find a compartment before all the first years spread out. Those buggers don't know how to sit together."
"Just because you all found someone to sit with before you even got in one in first year, doesn't mean everyone does," Remus points out. "Some of them don't know anybody."
"Honestly it's a surprise any of us did," Cressida laughs as they step onto the train. "I mean, Sirius makes enemies more than he makes friends. James couldn't keep his prideful mouth shut. I didn't even know if I was on the right train. Sirius offended you," she adds pointing to Remus, "yet somehow also managed to rope you in. And poor Peter is the one that we barged in on because everywhere else was full."
"And here we are!" James grins, his arms spreading out like a bird's until they land heavily on hers and Remus' shoulders. "Seven years later as a bunch of profession misfits."
Sirius sniffles theatrically. "Stop. You're making me emotional." They all laugh, James smacking the back of his head, throwing his black locks forward. "Hey Prongs, you grabbed the Map right?"
James' grin falls in an instant. "You said you grabbed it, Pads." His voice is steady and flat, but edging on something the complete opposite. Cressida holds her smile.
"No, no, no," Sirius denies. "I said that I hadn't grabbed it and that you had to." They all watch the absolute fury on James' face grow. His jaw clenches, chest rising in an attempt to breathe deeply and steadily. His nose flares and the ligaments in his neck pressing against the skin.
"Sirius I-"
Sirius yanks the map out of his pocket with an arrogant smirk, tapping the parchment against the red face of his friend. "You have no trust," he laughs, brushing past to lead the group down the carriage. Remus, Cressida, and Peter laugh with him, following behind whilst James takes a moment to calm himself, trudging along behind.
"You're right not to trust him," Cressida says to him. James raises his brows. "He almost left without it, but I always double-check his desk."
James shakes his head, sending a playful glare at the back of the boisterous boy. "Idiot."
It isn't until they lock their compartment door shut and pull the curtain down that Cressida finally feels at proper ease. The rest of the train fades away into her imagination. She doesn't race for the seat by the window either, happily taking the one between Sirius and Remus, James on her opposite with Peter next to him. The countryside of England is soon passing them, but instead of beautiful green fields, the day is already taken over by Autumn rain and a roof of blue-grey clouds. But there's an odd comfort to being inside while it rains.
Cressida takes full advantage of Sirius' nonchalant attitude for the day, playing with his hair and eventually tying it in a half-bun. He tries glaring at her, but she pays it no mind. James leaves about halfway through the trip for a meeting with the other Prefects and Head Girl. She had almost forgotten. Cressida would never deny her pride for him, but the carriage feels empty without his presence. That part of the ride feels the longest, even though it must have been less than an hour.
Turns out, that Lily Evans is the Head Girl. A decision that is a lot more foreseeable and reasonable, but that doesn't stop the pang of jealously riddle her stomach at James' report.
It takes her nearly the whole train ride to notice, and when she does, she doesn't say anything, but Sirius has barely said anything to James. James has said things to Sirius, both directly and in conversation, but Sirius constantly falls quieter and turns his eyes elsewhere after answering. She watches for James' reaction when he does it next, but he doesn't seem to notice. Maybe they had an argument that morning before she woke. It would fit, since Sirius is more likely to hold a grudge than James who would be over it in an instant.
The train pulls into the station, and Cressida takes her time to live in that moment; her last arrival at Hogwarts. Other than the Christmas break, of course. The castle is beautiful, as it always is. The arched stone windows alight with warm orange. Though the clouds have stopped pouring, it has left its mark on the world.
"Ew," Cressida grumbles, looking down at the muddy road. Her feet halt at the edge of the platform, eyeing off the short space between her and the carriage that is drawn by an invisible force. Her shoes would be covered in freshly formed mud.
The boys jump down without any hesitation.
"Come on."
Cressida looks to her right. James is standing with his arms bent backwards and slightly hunched forward. "You're my favourite," she announces, walking up behind him. "Don't drop me."
She climbs onto his back, repeating 'light as a feather' over and over in her head. For both their sakes. It only takes them a few seconds to reach the carriage and then she's reaching for the metal handle to heave herself in. They pass the lake, watching the first years be carried along in the boats. Sirius had nearly tipped theirs over.
The halls are filled with a void of black robes, streams of green, yellow, blue and red parading like a firework display. Cressida moves with the flow of students, using the back of Peter's head as a guide. Their shoulders barge into one another as they filter through the doors of the Great Hall, but within moments they can breathe again.
It is so natural, to just walk towards her House table, already knowing exactly where she is going to sit. So many familiar faces, some that she can put to a name, others just appearing in flashes of memory. She is going to miss this place.
Cressida settles down on the left length of the Gryffindor table, knowing she'd be able to see the Slytherins from her seat. Sitting with her back to them feels like opening herself up as a target, no matter how public they are.
She watches them again as she did in the station. Rosier. His lips and nose are pulled in a snarling grin to a horse-faced boy on his left. Cressida's breathing slows, moving her eyes onto the next.
She can't tell.
She can't tell.
A warm and gentle hand slithers over her forearm, a stark contrast from the cold and icy feeling that was creeping through her bones. Peeking to her right, Remus is smiling softly. "Breathe," he instructs. Cressida makes a point to examine her own body. Her knee is shaking and her thumb and forefinger are pinching her bottom lip. Her tongue is between her teeth. She drops the hand, remembering what Dr Kenway had told her. Find something else.
Dumbledore is speaking, but she wouldn't be able to focus on his speech even if she wanted to. She can't look at the Slytherins any longer or she'll drive herself insane.
Remus' hand moves from her arm to stretch out in front of her. He bends his finger inwards, placing his thumbpad and forefinger together. "One," he murmurs in her ear. He moves his thumb to his middle finger. "Two." His ring finger. "Three." His pinkie. "Four." Cressida copies his movements, counting in her head. It starts off slow, then quickens but she forces it to slow once more as it makes her heart race. "Good," Remus praises, dropping his hand back down. "I do it before full moons. Apparently using the mathematical part of your brain stops the emotional side getting too worked up."
"I don't know about that," she whispers back. "Arithmancy made me cry more than once." Remus sniggers, hushing her as a bunch of unsorted first years who stand between them and the Ravenclaw table shuffle around uneasily. "Thank you."
"I'm just glad I could help someone for once."
Cressida turns her head back to Remus, her mouth opening, ready to argue against that point. But as McGonagall calls forward the new students, she knows that a hushed conversation isn't going to do much in convincing Remus of his worth. For later, she promises herself.
The feast is fabulous as usual and with Remus acting as a constant distraction – which she soaks up – Cressida finds herself able to enjoy it for the most part. After the food disappears, the first years are guided out of the hall. She finds herself feeling guiltily happy that James isn't one of the people leading them, leaving that job to Lily Evans and another fifth year Prefect.
Soon the older students are following out too, some lingering behind in the Great Hall, and others mingling with other Houses now that the formalities are over. "I…I'll catch up," Cressida announces. Her friends look back at her, then at each other. Chucking her thumb over her finger, she adds, "I want to have a chat with Marlene." Thank Merlin that the blonde beauty is still sitting with Mary at the table.
"We'll probably be in the dorm," James smiles, squeezing her hand. "Just let me know if you head straight to bed." His fingers drum over his cloak pocket where he keeps his diary. He looks quite well put-together this night, with his tie perfectly done and tucked in under his grey jumper. And she can't even see the white cloth of his shirt around his pants. "Or I'll get worried, and who knows how I'll find you," he adds in a tease, leaning forward mockingly. Cressida snorts, nodding her head in agreement.
"It's not like you have a map that can trace my very footsteps," she drawls. James tosses his hands in mocking agreement. Her arms fold over her stomach loosely, watching them march out of the Great Hall. Once they disappear around the corner, her eyes move to the actual person she is waiting on.
Regulus is still talking with Slughorn, no doubt something about Potion's Club or the Slug Club which she learnt he is a part of. She sits down, alone, watching him from the peripheral of her vision.
Regulus nods to the Potions Master then turns, heading out to the entrance of the Great Hall alone, His black hair and robes near flowing behind him. Cressida quickly moves to her feet, keeping her head down and follows him out.
They take turns her brain tells her not to follow, heading downwards instead of up to the seventh floor. She doesn't know whether he yet knows she is following, but she isn't trying to make it a secret. Before he can wander into the dungeons, and taking advantage of the desolate corridor, she calls out to him.
"Regulus!"
He doesn't jump in surprise, nor does he spin around immediately. Instead, with hands in his pockets, he takes his time to turn and face her. Cressida marches up to him, not sure what she is going to say.
She stops in front of him, breathless and silent. If he's impatient, he doesn't show it; just standing there and waiting for her to talk first.
"Thank you."
He blinks slowly, his dark eyes pointing to the side when they re-open. Cressida knows she sounded sincere, but she isn't sure what he will do and that makes her nervous. Regulus sighs silently, swallowing before he answers. "Yeah, well, I don't hate my brother and… I don't hate you either."
Cressida smiles softly, trying to hide it with a low tilted face. "You flatter me," she goads. Regulus only moves one of his brows in a quick up and down motion. "Seriously, I…" She huffs at her own lack of words and choosing the more dangerous action, launches herself forward and wraps her arms around the boy's neck. He takes a step back in shock to counter her weight, hands flying from his pockets and out to the side. "I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you," she finishes. Where his brother smells of mint and leather, Regulus smells of pine and pear.
"As I said," he murmurs, "I don't hate you. I actually… don't mind you."
Cressida smiles over his shoulder, preparing herself to let go but she feels the ghost of hands press against the middle of her back. But it dampens once more and she forces herself to pull away. "I have to ask," she begins slowly, scared of any answer that he could give, "do you… Do you know who it was? Or at least who knew?"
Regulus blinks, breathing heavily. "I can't say." Cressida's gratefulness begins to rot away but Regulus is quick to defend himself. "It was a risk even telling my brother, but, one I knew had to take. They trust me, Hawthorne. If they know that you know then they'd figure out real fast who told you. They're not Ravenclaws, but their Slytherins for a reason. Not being at home was a coincidence. But if I tell you, then I can't guarantee my own safety."
Cressida flexes her jaw. "I wouldn't put you in harm's way-"
"Maybe not you," Regulus interjects. "But Sirius might. Trust me, we've all seen how stupid he gets when he's worked up. Your other friends might." Cressida nods stiffly. "Look, I'm sorry." Regulus lays a hand on her shoulder. "Really, I am, and…" He sucks his lips, twisting his head around in a moment of debate. "I'll let you know if I hear anything else about you. I just can't have it lead back to me."
Cressida nods again, softer and kinder this time. "Thank you."
"Excuse me."
Cressida steps to the side, head snapping over her shoulder. A small, petite young girl stands in the otherwise empty hallway. Her blonde hair is pulled in two piggy-tails on either side of her head, tied with pink hairbands. Her fingers nervously fidget by her stomach.
Cressida softens her stance, walking towards the young girl. "First year?" she questions, noting the unmarked robes. The girl nods. "What House?"
"Slytherin," she answers.
Cressida grins, tilting her head. "Well, you're in luck. My friend here is in Slytherin." She looks over her shoulder, wanting to motion Regulus forward but he's already right behind her. He crouches in front of the girl.
"How'd you get lost?"
The girl looks back to Cressida who nods in encouragement. "I think I followed the wrong House. They were wearing blue."
Regulus smiles. Actually smiles. Cressida makes a face of amazement to herself. "Eh, you don't want to follow them. They have the worst Common Room. Ours is in the dungeon, under the Black Lake." He leans in close as though to tell a secret. "Sometimes, you even get to see a giant squid." The girl's eyes widen in both fear and amazement. He holds out a hand. "Come on."
The girl, with no hesitation, takes it and Regulus stands back up. Cressida is thoroughly impressed and she doesn't bother hiding it. "Don't let him bite you," she warns the girl with a sly grin.
Her face drops back into caution but Regulus quickly shakes his head. "She's lying," he affirms. "Well, sort of. I only bite Gryffindors."
The girl looks back to Cressida, her eyes travelling along the red of her robe. Then she laughs too. Cressida stays in her spot for a while, watching Regulus lead the girl back down to the dungeons. Only once he is out of sight does she turn around and begin her long way up to the seventh floor.
What a beginning to the year.