Chapter 23: A Bright Future
Cressida hovers in the air, a hand curving over her forehead to block out the early morning sun that peeks over the hilled horizon. Around twenty or so brooms and their riders circle around the pitch. This is one of those mornings she doesn't mind getting up early, her confidence soaring as she gets to watch others jitter around in their nerves.
"Jacobs is doing pretty good," she observes, watching a third year swerve around with the Quaffle under his arm. James flies next to her, one leg propped on the footrest, the other dangling down. One of his hands rests on his hip, the other also covering his eyes.
"He is. Let's see if he can shoot though."
They continue watching the boy as he flies towards the goals, dodging the other Gryffindors trying out for a Chaser position. Two are open since Heffler decided to focus more on his studies for his final year and the other graduated.
Jacobs, a young boy with a dashing smile and personality to match, speeds towards the goals, the rest of the Chasers well behind him and shoots with incredible accuracy. It flies through. Hackley mans one of the goals. He has improved vastly from last year, but both Cressida and James know that he'll never be at her standard. "Not bad," James says.
The try-outs continue on.
"You know, Sirius was fuming when you told him to get on the pitch and not me," Cressida smirks. Maybe it's just because James felt bad about the past two years and her history with the team, but he told her not to bother trying out for Seeker, and asked her to help him instead. There is one chap who is flying around for the Snitch, who she feels guilty for dismissing instantly, but she knows that once James' mind is set on something—especially in Quidditch—it isn't something she can change. And if he wants her to be Seeker, then a Seeker she will be.
James laughs, his eyes following the head of long hair that moves quicker than most of the potential Chasers towards a Bludger. "He knows he's got it. I just didn't want him in my ear all morning. He judges them on his grudges." Cressida laughs with him, watching as Sirius flies closer. Their laughter stops though, as Sirius uses his bat against a Bludger. And it comes right towards them.
James and Cressida fly apart, the Bludger soaring right between them. "Bloody hell!" She felt the wind on that one.
"Sorry!" a not-so-apologetic Sirius cries out.
Cressida slowly hovers back to where she was before, brushing the hair out of her face and catching her breath. Sirius looks back over his shoulder, a smirk finding its way to them. "Bastard," she laughs.
"I think he needs some rudimentary aim training," James suggests slyly.
"He will hate you for that."
"Can't have the Seeker and Captain injured because of poor aiming, now can we?"
Cressida only hums, not agreeing so she can honestly tell Sirius she stood in his defence when he no doubt carries on about it later. Her eyes turn to the stands, where a few friends and opponents from other Houses watch them. Her eyes narrow in on one head. A blonde head. "I'll be back," she murmurs to James, who doesn't contend as she flies away. Sticking to the outer edge of the pitch, she flies around, trying not to look like she is looking for anything in particular.
Her cautious agitation turns to plain annoyance as it proves her suspicions true. Arthur McMullen.
Sitting in the stands, alone. She can't see where he is looking from so high up and Cressida doesn't plan on flying lower to find out. Ignore him, her mind instructs. Just as she looks back up to the pitch in front of her, a sharp gust of wind brushes over her face with a blur of black. A bludger flies around a post. It was mere inches from her nose.
Cressida hovers mid-air, her jaw dropped as she reminds herself to continue breathing. "Friendly fire! My bad! I'm sorry!" Her wide eyes travel to a sheepishly flying Sirius whose nose is shrivelled in a wince. Flying up next to her, his dark eyes scan her face, looking for probably both injuries and how pissed she is. "That was honestly a mistake. I thought you were still with James."
"You nearly took my nose off."
"Do you think James will score me down for missing?"
"I think he would score you worse if you didn't. Your aim isn't to actually kill people. I'm not sure if anybody has actually told you that."
"Then what's the point of having Beaters?" Sirius laughs at her roll of the eyes. "What are you doing, anyway? Thought you didn't have to do shit since your boyfriend is the Captain. Trust me, if I knew sleeping with him was the way to get out of this, I would have done it ages ago."
"I haven't slept with him," Cressida protests, her smile and blush hard to hide. "And I'm helping him evaluate. And before you complain about not being able to give your opinion, who's up to your standard for Beater now that Alistair is gone? I think Terry doesn't look too bad. A little weak on his backhands but so were you when you first started."
Sirius squints, looking over his shoulder at the players as he adjusts his braces. "Yeah, he's not bad, but I think Kirk is better."
"Johnny Kirk?"
"Yeah. He doesn't look like much since his hits aren't as strong, but he's got the technique that Terry doesn't. Strength comes with training."
"So does technique," she counters.
"Easier to improve than start from scratch," Sirius shrugs. Cressida purses her lips, nodding in acceptance, and makes a mental note to point him out to James. "Leisurely fly since you've got nothing else to do?"
Cressida's eyes dive to the boy in the stands before forcing them quickly back up. "Yeah," she scoffs a laugh. Sirius, though, the sneaky devil he is, already caught onto her gaze and his own eyes drop, along with his smile.
"What is he doing here?" he questions in a low growl.
"Probably checking out the competition," Cressida mutters. "Come on, he's not bothering us." She begins to slowly fly forward, watching for Sirius to join her. The boy glares at Arthur for a few more seconds before his broom trails after hers.
Soon, James calls for them to fly back to the ground for a short meeting. "Alright, now, Jacobs, I want to see more of your shooting before you go. But I want you up against Cress in the posts."
Cressida perks at her name and the idea of acting as a Keeper, even just for a minute. The young boy, Jacobs, perks too. "Yeah, awesome," the boy says with a grin. Cressida motions with her head to fly upwards as James passes him the Quaffle. His thin arms catch it. The ball looks gigantic on him.
Jacobs follows her lead, eyes wide and eager. As they fly over the rest, Cressida wants to give the boy an extra boost of confidence. "James likes you," she says to him. "I think you're pretty good too, kid."
"Really?" His grin only grows. She has a feeling that he's a bright kid, both in and out of school. "I didn't think I'd be any good. Muggle-born, you see. Never flown before first year."
"I'm Muggle-born too," Cressida responds sweetly. "Doesn't mean we don't have potential. Come on, before James gets in a fit about taking too long." Cressida flies to the nearest posts, circling in and out of them and watching the young boy circle out to get some distance.
It feels good to be back there. But also a little nerve-wracking. Jacobs flies around, the Quaffle tucked tightly under his arm. She flies back and forth, trying to anticipate his line of aim. She won't go easy on the boy, but she might offer him a bit of slack.
Jacobs shoots at her left post and Cressida flies towards it. And it slips right by her and through the hoop. The small group of awaiting Gryffindors clap from the ground. Cressida can't even be annoyed at the score. It was a clean shoot. "Good job," she calls out to him. Jacobs smiles brightly, flying back down to the ground. Cressida dismounts next to Sirius who raises his eyebrows. She shrugs. "It was an excellent shot."
By the end of try-outs, they already have a pretty good idea of who their new team will be. Remus and Peter are waiting in the stands for them, as they always have. "Beautiful technique," the former cries, clapping his hands. "The way you flew was amazing."
Cressida laughs to herself, brushing past him to her belongings. His complete obliviousness to anything Quidditch can be an annoyance, but also a source of amusement. She pulls off her excess gear, stuffing it into her duffle bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots someone from the stands moving and she inadvertently looks to quench her instinctive curiosity. Arthur. Shaking her gaze away, she turns her attention to James. Cressida knocks his fingers out of the way, undoing the knotting on his arm braces herself. As she does so, her smile lifts, feeling his lips press against her hairline. "You alright? Got that look on your face."
"I'm fine."
James breathes heavily, the soft wind ruffling the tiniest of her hairs. "You're happy to be a Seeker?"
She nods easily and quickly. "Of course. Thank you for asking."
Xx
A strangled gasp echoes through the black Gryffindor dormitory. Cressida pants, sweat dripping down the side of her head. Images of a masked face continue to flash before her eyes as they appeared in her nightmare. The bodies of her parents lying behind them. A green flash of light encased her entire vision just before she awoke.
Her hand grips at her skin over her chest, the pain of each tug assuring her that she is still living. None of the other girls have woken. Though her mind refuses to calm down, she stretches out her arms, willing the muscles to un-tense. It takes a few minutes but her lungs finally stop hyperventilating enough for her to think properly.
Cressida knows she will not be getting more sleep tonight. At least not until her mind and body forget. Kicking the sheets off, her bare feet flex as they touch the cool stone ground. Silently and swiftly, she escapes the confines of her dorm and saunters across the upper level of the tower until she reaches the boys' dormitory. Not bothering with knocking, she opens it with a slow creaking sound announcing her presence. The boys are all well and truly asleep, their lumped forms unmoving underneath the blankets.
Cressida walks straight to James' bed, falling to her knees next to it, and unlocks his trunk. She immediately grabs the Invisibility Cloak and shuts it once more. She doesn't need to bother hunting down the Map. Tossing the material over herself, Cressida leaves the dorm and the Tower altogether, heading straight for the library.
Muttering an unlocking spell, the gate swings open with a haunting creak and Cressida slips inside the restricted section. Her feet already know where to go, travelling to the far right corner where her current interests lie. She pulls a half-random book off the shelf, taking it to the back of the library and huddles down in a comfortable corner, the Cloak still over her head, her wand alight, and the book open in her lap. The last one she read was on blood maledictions.
The first chapter of this one is the Fiendfyre spell. She had learnt about it in fifth year, but only as a context to learning the counter-curses.
Cressida sinks lower, thumb between her teeth and reads well into the rest of the night.