Chapter 25: Rainbow Lights

The rainbow lights are a beautiful change from the darks that had been encompassing her for so long. A large tent of red and white strips; rides with flashing lights and stores with so many colours that nothing really becomes defined.

Though it isn't the coldest night, closer to Summer with each week, Cressida and Regulus are dressed in heavy jackets with the hoods pulled over. She doubts that there would be anybody that would recognise them at the Muggle celebration, but they are cautious, nevertheless.

"This isn't really my idea of fun," Regulus mutters, leaning away from an unusually tall man on stilts. Children laugh, running wild as their parents chase after them. "It's so loud."

"It's supposed to be," Cressida grins. "That way your mind can't focus on anything else. Now, you're only not having fun because you're making yourself think that you won't enjoy this." Pinching her bottom lip between her teeth, Cressida circles around, looking for something. "There!"

Regulus barely has the time to look in that direction before he is yanked by his arm. "What is that?!" he demands. Cressida pulls them into a line, guided by linked fences.

"A rollercoaster," she laughs. The cart on the tracks soars down from one of the heights, the riders screaming their lungs off. Regulus's eyes widen, already trying to take a step back. "No, you'll enjoy it. Unless you get motion sickness but with the amount of apparating you do, I doubt it."

"Why do people enjoy it?"

Cressida tips her head to her shoulder. "Not sure really. It's fast. Thrilling. Wind in your hair type of thing. Like riding a broom but you're not in control of where it is going."

Regulus stuffs his hands into his black jacket. "That still doesn't sound like fun."

Nevertheless, he stays in line with her. once they reach the vendor, they show their wristbands and jump in the very front cart. Regulus eyes off the metal bar over their heads. "What does that do?"

"That," Cressida grins, leaning back against the seat, "is what is going to keep us inside this thing." If he wasn't naturally already pale, he sure is now. She cackles, enjoying his reluctance far too much. "You'll be fine." The conductor strides up and down, locking all the bars in place. Regulus shakes the bar, ensuring that it is locked. It doesn't budge. "Us Muggles," she says, leaning onto his shoulder, "had to survive without magic. We're not stupid. In fact, we're a lot more advanced in some ways."

"If you were advanced, I think you would have come up with a better safety system," he hisses. Cressida cackles even more, watching his knuckles turn white on the bar. There is no warning for the start of the ride, but it is likely that the entire carnival knows that it started from the screaming boy next to her. After a few moments, his breath runs out and he changes to hisses and grumbling whimpers. Cressida chucks her arms into the air, letting her hood fly off.

xx

"Come on, that was fantastic!" she drawls to a white Regulus. His legs were shaky after they got off. She watches a ghostly smile rise, no matter how much he tries to hide it.

"Wasn't…too bad," he confesses. She cheers, throwing her arms up again. Cressida knows that she might be acting a little too loose; but she's been holed up with Death Eaters for nearly three months. This was for her sanity as much as it was for Regulus'. "What's next?"

They end up at a van selling fairy floss and she purchases an entire bucket. "It's practically just sugar in fluffy form," she tells him, holding the bucket out. "It's sweet, so take your time." He pulls a pinch of purple and blue fluff, sticking it in his mouth. His eyes spark and he steps back in shock.

"It disappeared! In my mouth." At her nods and noiseless laughing, Regulus smiles, pulling more from the bucket. "You're going red," he smirks.

"I know," she breathes, holding her chest. "This is just the best thing I think I've ever seen. Regulus Black trying fairy floss and enjoying it." Cressida hands him the bucket, not wanting his ravenous hands to keep tugging it away from her.

"What next?" he demands.

Cressida leans over the pool of water, a tiny fishing rod in hand. A plethora of bright yellow ducks hover over the surface, the bottom of the pool barely even visible. Regulus points to one and she aims for it. The tiny fishing rod has a string with a small magnet that latches on to the one glued to the duck's head.

"Twenty-three," she reads aloud, pursing her lips to Regulus who has no idea what that means. "Not bad." The vendor takes the duck, handing them a bright purple bear no bigger than their hands. "Here you go. Your first carnival prize."

He takes it slowly with an odd expression. "It's a strange colour," he muses. "How did you win it?"

"Luck, really. Higher number on the duck is a higher score," she shrugs. They walk on, occasionally stopping to watch performers or browse over stores. "Most of these things are rigged. You can win the smaller prizes, but the big ones are hard."

"Isn't that cheating then? They are making things impossible to win."

"Not really. People are aware. Makes them a profit and people do win. It's a win-win-lose type of situation. You still usually win something, and they get money, but not many people get the big wins."

"Well, we should use our skills then," he decides. "It's technically not cheating."

Cressida grins but narrows her eyes. "It technically is," she chuckles. Pursing her lips, she swings her weight from side to side. "But I'm up for it if you are."

They don't go absolutely rampant on every game. Just a few every now and then where there are cool prizes. For the most part, they are stuffed animals that they hand to children who aren't carrying anything. Some workers started growing suspicious about them, so they stopped after a while, playing once again the entirely Muggle way.

"Aim," Regulus says, rolling his eyes.

Cressida glares at him, a rubber ball in her hand. "I am," she growls, pegging the ball to a pile of stacked cans. She knocks about three of the ten. Regulus laughs, leaning against the poles. "Stop laughing at me." Picking up another ball, she throws it again. She misses horribly.

"Weren't you a Keeper?" he goads, leaning over her back as she picks up her fourth and final ball. "I thought they needed to have aim and accuracy."

Cressida huffs, peering over her shoulder. "It's been a few years." Regulus takes the last ball from her hands, stretching his arm back then throws it forward. The ball is a blur to her eyes and even the vendor blinks in astonishment. All but two cans are knocked off. "It's been less time for you," she mutters, hiding her smile as Regulus chooses his prize. Bubbles. He chooses bubbles.

"I like this," he tells her as they wander. The night was growing late and many of the parents had returned home with their children, leaving the grassy paths to be occupied by teens and child-free adults. "It could do with more magic, but it isn't bad for a Muggle thing."

Cressida smiles to the crisp air. "Isn't it brilliant though? That all this exists without a trace of magic? A person walking around taller than Hagrid. People breathing fire. Rides that go as fast as a broom with only engineering to do so. You give it magic then it's losing that. Things aren't as thrilling because you aren't wondering how that magician made those cards disappear. Magic can be boring sometimes. It makes everything too much, and then it becomes…plain."

"Is that really how you think? That magic is boring?"

"No," she laughs softly. "I don't think magic itself is boring. It's amazing but it's our world. It's normal for us. Muggles seeing something magical is like you trying fairyfloss. For them, it's sweet and fun, but…mundane. It's expected at one of these places. I enjoy it because this was a part of my life that I couldn't really explore. I'm Muggle-born but I hardly got to leave my house let alone go to carnivals and fairs. Cinemas."

"It's magical." Cressida raises her brows and her eyes to the boy. Regulus nods to the world in front of them. "To wizards this is magical. To Muggles, our world is magical."

She nods, lips forming a crooked smile. "Exactly. Sometimes I'm upset because I haven't been equal parts of both. I just fully immersed myself into the wizarding world and sort of forgot what world I came from. The only times I remembered are when I went home and when someone would call me Mud-blood."

"Don't say that word."

Cressida laughs, folding her arms and knocking her elbow into his. "But then I get moments like this when I remember how fascinating it all is. Just the simplest of things."

She watches a couple that hide between two vans. A girl with long blonde hair falling over her chest. Her face is hidden by a boy's. His hair dark and curled. Cressida's feet stop, her mind seeing James. She hasn't even been able to write him a letter.

"Why don't get some food. We missed dinner and fairyfloss won't cut it."

They settle for a hotdog vendor. She has to reach up on her toes to grab their food. They eat and walk, now content to watch other people enjoy their nights, their own energy running low. Cressida glances up to Regulus who has become unusually quiet, even for someone eating. She had tossed her own rubbish out a while ago. "You've got a little-" she waves her finger to his nose where a droplet of tomato sauce hands. He sticks out his tongue, tipping his head backwards and tries to lick it off but his tongue just isn't long enough. "No, Merlin, you're making it worse."

Cressida hides her lapse of laughter behind the back of her hand. Regulus sniffs, giving up and wipes it with the back of his sleeve.

"You have napkins," she taunts, picking up one from his cardboard holder and flicking it at him.

"Yeah, well, there's no fun in that." He flicks it back down, tossing his waste away in the next bin they pass. "This sort of feels like the calm before the storm."

"I think that's because it is." Regulus stops walking so she stop calmly by his side. "Frightening, isn't it? But we'll do this. We have an entire world depending on us."

Regulus bends his lips upwards, curling them inwards slightly. "It is. Thank you."

"For the hotdog?"

"Yes," he chuckles. "And thank you for a lot of things before that. You didn't give up on me even when Sirius had."

"He hasn't given up on you. Not completely." Regulus smiles loosely still. They face each other, his black eyes scanning the world behind her. Cressida tilts her head, watching him with intrigue. It's the most nonchalant he's ever been. She wonders how many times he's truly been like this. "Don't give up on yourself either. I know how easy that is to do."

"Not going to happen. You would yank me by the ear."

Cressida nods. "That I would."