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Cress isn't surprised she gets detention. In fact, she is surprised Professor McGonagall lets her get away for breaking curfew and roaming the hallways — carefully because prefects are arseholes (Cedric included) and she does not have the time to deal — for as long as she does. When McGonagall finds her sneaking back to the basements, candle in hand, stern expression on her face, Cress isn't surprised.
She is surprised that she gets a week's worth of detention for it, though.
A whole week. Cress thinks maybe she should have seen it coming — hours spent curled up in the library, hunting and searching for anything that Cedric could possibly need for the first task was not her best option. Especially when Cedric himself warned her about it (You're going to get caught, Cress! Either by some prefect or a professor! Don't do this, stop walking away — Cress!"). Cress should have seen the warning signs then.
But she ignored it because a) Cedric needs fucking help, Merlin knows he can't go out there on the day of the task and just wing it (even though, if he did, he'd probably do outstanding) — he needs some assistance — and b) Cress wants to help because helping makes her feel useful and it eases the tight knot in her chest until she can breathe easily for once. Helping him helps her and she wishes he would just let her, dammit.
She supposes this is what she gets for trying to help her brother out, though. A week of detention — both with McGonagall and Snape (kill her). Cress is hoping that Axel will be a good best friend and help her out but when she asks him, he straight up declines because he has a record and he doesn't need detention tainting it. He says it in the most taunting voice ever so Cress thinks he's just being mean — which is so fucking rude, Axel, you're supposed to be her best friend.
Mallory tries to help her, however. Tells Cress that she would get detention if Cress really needs someone in there with here and Cress just about sheds a tear thinking about the kindness that is Mallory Ackerman. In the end, Cress declines — she does not need to make Mallory look bad, the girl is too pure — and heads to detention with a forlorn sigh and a heavy bag.
She hopes that McGonagall does not make her do lines or something else as equally torturous; Cress has things to do and they involve researching different breeds of goblins rather than write something over and over about how she shouldn't be out in the corridors after hours, it's troublesome and irresponsible, yada yada. Cress does not have the time.
When she reaches the classroom, it's dark out and Cress has to tug her brother's stolen hoodie around her more securely before she walks into McGonagall's room. The candles are barely lit — come on, give her something here — and there's three other people occupying desks in there too.
Cress snorts.
Figures this is her luck. Of course. McGonagall does want to torture her, just not with silly lines or boring lectures. Oh, no, good 'ole Minnie decided to reach down into the deep, dark crevices of her diabolical mind and find the most horrendous, utterly terrible way to make Cress weep.
Cress hates everything. She would rather drink poison than do this. Legit poison that tastes like horse dung and smells even worse and makes her insides boil just like Fred's smirk is doing to her right now. He's sitting there, almost at the front of the room, all smug and lazy, posture relaxed and hair tousled. The light catches the freckles dotting his face and she wants the ground to swallow her up so she can avoid doing something rash like jumping on him like some kind of bloody koala bear. Godric, she hates detention.
George and Lee all stare at her with unabashed smirks — not unlike the one plastered on Fred's face — on their faces. None of them are beside one another, each of them spread across the room. Cress decides that this is a good idea but then again not really because Helga knows those boys can find a way to communicate. Enchanted parchment, owls — hell, even smoke signals because nothing is off the table with them.
McGonagall clears her throat pointedly and Cress shuffles to a seat quickly, face flushing and heart racing. She can hear Lee silently cackling from where she is — a seat behind Fred but in front of Lee and diagonal to George — and she is tempted to just jump out of one of these windows. Her bag drops to the ground with a heavy thump and Cress pulls the hood up on her hoodie.
Lee is still cackling.
Cress is going to commit murder.
McGonagall (thank Godric) says, "Now that everyone is here." She sends Cress a stern look, like you didn't have to be here, but you decided that breaking the rules was the new fun so enjoy these three hours of hell, you delinquent, and Cress just wishes she would let it go. The woman is going to have to realize that she would have done it over and over again until she was confident in the facts that might just save Cedric's life. "I want you to be silent. I don't care what you do or how you do it, just be silent and if I get through marking these papers early, you all may leave."
"But that means no more time with you, Minnie!" Lee moans, disheartened, but Cress is sure he's being idiotic. "And that is something I absolutely can't stand for."
"Mister Jordan," McGonagall warns.
Cress can bet Lee is grinning from ear-to-ear but she doesn't turn around to see. She pulls out a book — the one on goblins — and starts cramming every bit of information into her brain without smoking out. Honestly, though, she is surprised that she is still going strong; with all her courses and the blasted O.W.L.s that Cress needs to be preparing for, it's a surprise that she is even awake. By now, she should be a shell of the girl she once was, all glazed eyes and early nights but she isn't — which is good but also bad. Because no early nights mean late nights and that basically just means that Cress reads and reads until her eyes burn and the sun is coming up above the horizon. It been almost two weeks since she's gotten a proper rest.
(Both Axel and Cedric think she is going to pass out from exhaustion, but Cress has more endurance than that. And frankly, she's a little offended that they don't have faith in her. In her third year, Cress stayed up almost every night because of that bloody chamber and the fear that she was going to get Petrified by the giant, insane basilisk that Salazar Slytherin had to have in his sodding basement that literally no one knew about. She did not die that year and this year was no different so they could back off.)
The book, when Cress is finished with it, leaves her with no more knowledge than she had when she began. She slams it closed with a sigh of irritation, eyes heavy as she gazes around the room. Professor McGonagall is at the front, marking papers, glasses perched up on her nose. There are faint chuckles coming from around her. George has a hand over his mouth, covering snorts, Lee is breathless with laughter, and Fred Weasley is so red that he matches his hair.
Cress doesn't even want to know. There's scattered parchment around them and loose wrappers from who knows what and Cress just doesn't even understand what her life is or how she got stuck in detention with three of the most hyperactive people in the Hogwarts.
Her breath catches, however, when Fred leans back, all chuckles and bright smiles, and says, "What'd they get you for, Little Diggory?"
Cress fiddles with the pages of her book, stomach twisting in the most pleasant way imaginable. She bites her lip and is all too aware of the proximity of their faces. Heavens, she's been around the male for most of her school year and yet, she still can't form proper sentences around him.
And she thinks it should be better because the fucking kitchens. Merlin, the fucking kitchens. Cress has been down there on more than one occasion — usually before she sneaks out to the library to sneak into the Restricted section for more information about random things like the history of Ilvermorny or how to cook the Muggle way (not really useful for the task but facts are fun) — and Fred Weasley was always bloody down there. Alone. With his mussed up hair and freckled face, looking all disheveled and sleepy and downright gorgeous.
The thing, however, is that Cress has gotten used to those late night conversations full of warm laughs and fleeting touches that filled her up with comfort and lightheartedness. Talking with Fred was like taking a breath of much needed air after breathing in toxins for nothing but the last month. He was sunshine in the rain and a diamond in the dust and he listened and Cress loved it.
With him alone, Cress could talk about things she normally wouldn't do had she been with him and George and Lee. There was something about the close, quiet quarters of the kitchens that made her spill like a tap full of water. Stuff she usually only disclosed with Axel (and now Mallory) were told to Fred under cups of tea (hot chocolate for her) and desserts (banoffee pie for him — because he is a prick — and a nice buttered scone for her if she chose to divulge in one).
The kitchens were a place where she was just Cress and he was just Fred and she didn't have a ginormous crush on him. They were just two friends, having a chat and some laughs (and even some personal conversations that she would never have even thought was possible for her) and it was great.
But outside of the kitchens is a different story. Seeing him in broad daylight, in uniform rather than his worn-out pajamas, played at something in her stomach and she is no longer just Cress and he is no longer just Fred.
Outside of the kitchens, she is Cress, a hopeless girl with a fleeting infatuation on someone she will never obtain, and he is Fred Weasley, the boy with laughter brighter than a thousand suns and a fancy for someone who he knows he can grasp.
And that's okay with her, but she doesn't understand why she turns into a blubbering mess around him still. Cress fucking told him about falling off her roof when she was younger, why can't she form a god forsaken sentence around him?
Perhaps it's the realness of it all; in the dark of night, with no one around, Cress got to pretend that she was a confident girl, who believed in the chances that she had with Fred. And once that reverie is ruined, scared away by the harsh glare of the sunlight, the effect is broken and she's left with breathless encounters and stuttering sentences.
Fred is staring at her, expectantly, and although Cress would love to book it to another country, she swallows her nerves and whispers, "McGonagall caught me trying to sneak back to the basements. And even though I told her what I was doing, apparently sneaking into the Restricted section is not permitted after curfew hours. She was livid."
(Okay, not livid but the unamused and stern expression that Professor McGonagall wore when she assigned Cress a week of detention is more terrifying than anything else she's ever encountered.)
Fred grins. "So that's why I didn't see you the other night?"
Cress ducks her head down and she tries not to blush too much, but she thinks she fails. Like, majorly. She wonders how he can talk so easily about time spent in the kitchens — those couple of hours spent with him are the most sacred hours ever and even telling Axel about it had been challenging — but then she remembers that she fancies him and all Fred sees is a meetup between two friends. Two mates. Two chaps. Two people in a totally platonic relationship with no feelings whatsoever.
"Yeah," she says quietly, mustering up a small grin in return.
"This our last night," Fred says brightly, gesturing to George and Lee (who are sniggering into their hands for reasons unknown to Cress). "Got in trouble for setting off a Dungbomb near Malfoy. But, in our defense, we had no clue the ferret would be walking in the first-floor corridors at ten past noon."
"Sure, you didn't." Cress snorts. "And you also didn't steal his schedule from him whilst he was unaware and copy it down so you would know where he would be at ten past noon."
"We didn't actually," he whispers, leans lower and gestures for Cress to do the same. "We asked Goyle. Much, much simpler than trying to steal the bloody thing from Malfoy. Merlin knows the bloke is weird about his possessions. And Goyle squealed once we fed him cupcakes."
Cress chuckles, breathless. "Because desserts are everything that's great about this world?" she whispers jokingly.
"Now, you're speaking my language, Little Diggory," Fred says, nodding seriously. Cress snorts and rolls her eyes.
"Was joking, you dolt," she tells him.
Fred grins. "But it worked, didn't it? Those cupcakes got us Malfoy's schedule and sweet revenge was ours."
"Revenge for what? The badges?" guesses Cress.
"Yeah," Fred responds. "Malfoy was a real prick for making those — or at least making someone make those because Malfoys don't do heavy lifting — and retaliation was necessary. But," he adds with a wink, "you did a mighty fine job at adjusting most of them. Absolutely brilliant, really."
Cress wrings her fingers together and tries not grin too much. She hadn't done much, only charmed a POTTER STINKS badge — every time she saw one in the corridor or common room — into saying:
MALFOY IS A FUCKING FERRET
And then:
FUCKING PIRATES
She added the last bit in there because the Bulgarians have angered her beyond compare and it helped. Plus, Axel snorts whenever he sees one of those badges gleaming bright yellow in the hallways so it's worth it.
"Thanks," she says quietly. Cress learned early (mostly from Cedric) that she should accept compliments without argument, even if she doesn't quite agree with them.
The look Fred gives her is worth it though. His eyes get all soft and warm, swirling like a nice mug of hot chocolate. His lips are tug upwards into that little smile he does when he's amused but also actually endeared, too — and by her, nonetheless! Cress feels her stomach flip and she really wishes McGonagall would have sent her into the Forbidden Forest to catch a unicorn or something. Anything sounds more appealing than staring at Fred Weasley's stupid, beautiful face that she fucking loves so much.
When detention actually is over, Cress makes a beeline for the door and just about sprints to the common room and throws herself onto the couch with Cedric and Hamlin. She didn't even get to say goodbye to George or Lee, dammit.
"What's with the rush, Mo?" Axel, who is sitting in the loveseat with Mallory, asks.
Cress muffles something inaudible into the couch.
"What?" Hamlin says. "Couldn't quite catch that, Cress?"
"Fuck you," she grumbles.
"Crescent!" Cedric snaps, indignant.
Cress pulls her head up out of the cushion and glares up at where he's sitting beside Hamlin. Her legs are propped up on both of theirs because a whole couch is obviously not big enough and they still have to sit shoulder-to-shoulder like fucking weirdos.
"Oh, for Helga's sake, you blasted bum," she says, pulling her legs up and down to where she is sitting upright, "I curse all the time. Get used to it, gramps."
"Gramps?" Cedric repeats. "I am not a grandpa."
Cress mutters, "Sure do act like one."
"Do not," Cedric denies.
Axel says, "Mate, you totally do. You're definitely the dad of this group, if not the grandpa."
Cedric splutters and looks at Hamlin for help, but his best friend has a sheepish expression on his face. Mallory doesn't say anything because she's Mallory and she does not like hurting people's feelings. Though, Cress feels like this is information that Cedric should already know. Like, he should be aware that he is actually a legit parent to their little friend group.
"It's okay," Hamlin soothes, patting Cedric on the shoulder. "If you're the dad that makes me the mom, right?" He glances at Cress and Axel and Mallory. "Right?"
Cress shakes her head. "Godric, no. Okay, if we're including you in this, too, then you're like the drunk dad who goes out every night and encourages his kids to do terrible things whilst Cedric — ever the mother — stays home and cares for us, even though he's dead tired and wants to fucking go to bed. And somehow, even though you —" she nods to Hamlin, "— are never home, Cedric still loves you and your relationship is perfect."
"I really could not have worded it better myself," Axel comments.
Cedric, to be frank, seems almost. . . content? Cress doesn't know how to describe that look on his face nor does she know if she really wants to ask about it. It looks as though he's gone into his own world. Hamlin, on the other hand, is totally ballistic about the whole thing.
"The drunk dad?! Who encourages bad behavior for his children?! What the bloody hell, Cress?!" he snaps loudly, gesticulating with his whole body. "I would never!"
"It's okay, Hamlin," Cress says, waving him off. "Cedric is there to make up for your lack of discipline and parenting skills. He doesn't let the children do anything too wild — or he tries to stop it, at least. He doesn't really have a high success rate."
"Of course, he doesn't! Ced has the backbone of a fucking snake!" Hamlin yelps.
Cedric grunts, finally snapping out of his thoughts. "Oi! I totally have a backbone. My children would never disobey me!"
"Really, Ced? Do you truly believe that?" Hamlin asks. "Your children are going to be walking rebels — actually, no. They're going to be delinquents who vandalize Diagon Alley and strike actual fear into Peeves the Poltergeist because you're going to let them."
"I beg to differ, Hams," Cedric grumbles. "I am going to be the best stay at home dad there ever is and my kids are going to love me so much that they will never even think about setting fire to poor Ollivanders whilst licking on a nice cone of Florean Fortescue's ice cream and cackling as both men cry out in panic and aggravation — the children didn't pay for the bloody ice cream, those little scoundrels."
There is a moment of silence in which everyone turns to stare at Cedric, incredulous and a little worried. Then Hamlin, says, "Mate, have you thought of doing this?"
"No!" Cedric shakes his head swiftly. "Heavens, no! I'm just saying — if I have children, I like to know all my options."
"So, you think," Axel says slowly, "that your kids could possibly turn out to be criminals?"
"Possibly," Cedric says.
Hamlin makes a noise in the back of his throat like he can't quite keep in his utter confusion and Cress agrees. She has no clue where this conversation went wrong. The only thing she really caught out of all of that is the fact that Cedric wants to be a stay-at-home dad. If that isn't the most endearing thing she's ever heard. . .
"Only little Janie and Nico, though," Cedric continues, a wistful expression on his face. "They're the twins and they love making a scene. But they love their Pa more."
"Oh my gosh!" Axel exclaims. "You've imagined it?!"
Cress purses her lips. Cedric looks downright perplexed. "Yes," he answers, "haven't you?"
"Fuck, no! I barely think about what I'm going to have for breakfast, Cedric, much less children!"
"Well," Cedric mumbles, "I like to plan ahead."
"And there is nothing wrong with that," Hamlin intervenes before Axel can open his mouth again. "Plan ahead all you like, Ced."
Cedric grins at him. Hamlin smirks back. Cress thinks that maybe she should have sat on the floor. Honestly, she doesn't even know with those two anymore. Their whole bromance thing is a little unnerving and she feels like such an intruder right now. If it weren't for Mallory speaking up, Cress probably would have heard sonnets about how Hamlin would make the best godfather and vice versa.
"How was detention, Crescent?" she asks kindly, petting her huge cat Fanny.
Cress puckers her lips. Truthfully, she doesn't want to talk about detention because she is still recovering from detention. Never in a million years would she have thought that she would have gotten stuck with the three most mischievous people in the school. And whilst it wasn't too bad, her heart is going to need some time to recover from the assault that Fred Weasley bestowed upon her.
"It was boring," she says, for a lack of better explanation.
Axel snorts. "Weasley was totally in there, wasn't he?"
"Shove off," Cress snaps.
But because Axel is a raging prick, he says, "What happened? Did he finally confess his undying love for you?"
Cress glares. She does not need him giving her a false sense of hope right now, especially when her heart is in such a fragile state. The odds of Fred Weasley confessing his undying love to her is one in a billion. Even though there were moments (and Cress is using this term very lightly because, of course, those stolen touches and that one night with the fucking hug — Helga — meant more to her than him) between them, that does not mean he fancies her.
So, no Axel, Fred did not confess his undying love for her. If he would have, she would definitely not be in the common room right now, trying to calm her racing mind. Cress would be curled up in Fred fucking Weasley's arm, a content grin on her face while he fucking snuggled her like the world was going to end.
"Don't worry about it, Crescent," Mallory says comfortingly. Cress wonders how the girl can catch a mood from looking at someone's face for less than a second. It must be some kind of talent. "I'm sure that Fred will confess sooner or later. He would be a fool not to."
Cress gives her a small smile, heart warming at the words. She does not know if she has said this before, but Cress is truly grateful for Fred and George giving her that banoffee pie. Without that wretched pie, she would not have gotten to meet one of her best friends. Godric, she loves Mallory so much.
Cedric insists they go to bed thirty minutes later, claiming that they would need their sleep for the upcoming events. Cress thinks going to Hogsmeade isn't much of an event that they need to prepare for. But she relents, nonetheless, and climbs into her bed, hoping to get a full night's rest for once instead of sneaking out to the kitchens and then to the library to try and find more books to help Cedric on Tuesday.
But she pushes those thoughts out of her mind and focuses on sleeping. Sleeping is good – sleeping is swell. And Cress is going to get some much deserved rest even if it kills her.
So, she lets Elvis curl up next to her and Cress falls into the comforting arms of slumber, and, for once, she has no dreams.
(Professor Trelawney is going to be so disappointed.)
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A/N; A SHORT CHAPTER BUT IT'S A FILLER SO FIGHT ME,,, JK DON'T DO THAT BUT SERIOUSLY I WANTED TO SHOW MORE CONTENT BETWEEN CEDRIC AND CRESS AND THEM BECAUSE THEY ARE MY CHILDREN AND I LOVE THEM BUT NEXT CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE A HOGSMEADE TRIP AND THE FIRST TASK I AM LIVING FOR THIS GET READY SHITS ABOUT TO HIT THE FAN
LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND I WILL TRY TO HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER UP BY NEXT SUNDAY (MONDAY NOW)
P.S. THERE'S A LITTLE SURPRISE FOR YOU BRILLIANT PEOPLE; I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING I LOVE ALL YOU COMMENTERS AND VOTERS AND I JUST WANTED TO SHOW YOU MY APPRECIATION SO LOOK OUT FOR THAT
(ALSO UNEDITED BUT WHATS NEW???)