Chapter Text
Saturday August 29th 2015
Cressida often wondered why she had ended up the way she had. If she tried really hard, she didn’t have to think for very long. She was barely five feet tall, the shortest in her class. Her mum was a nervous wreck, with no dad to stick around and help. She lived in a council flat filled with crazy people or drug addicts in a small town called Conwell, in the middle of nowhere in the vallies of Wales. Despite only being eleven, she knew her prospects for life weren’t looking good.
Which is why discovering she was a wizard came as a bit of a shock to her.
The letter had arrived earlier in the summer. She had been out wandering the streets for entertainment all day and returned to find an owl sitting on her window ledge. She had never even seen an owl before, having one deliver an official looking letter made the situation even more bizarre.
Never being a patient child, Cressida ripped open the letter straight away.
‘Dear Ms. Knightly,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Head Mistress, Minerva McGonagall’
She had thought it was a joke, perhaps the boys across the stairway had written it to be funny, but her mother’s face fell once she rushed into Cressida’s tiny room to see what she was yelling about.
Apparently, her mother had been suspecting Cressida was a ‘witch’ for a while and decided not to say anything. Cressida still couldn’t believe it was happening. Her mother made her promise not to tell anyone or even bring it up again unless they were completely alone. She called it their little secret. Cressida agreed, knowing she and her mother had many ‘little secrets’ over her childhood.
She had reread the letter numerous times ever since it arrived, keeping it safely hidden under her pillow like it might disappear if she didn’t have eyes on it at all times.
There was a second letter concealed behind the first that she had also memorized, that listed and contained all the necessary books and equipment she would need for the year. The last line of the letter stuck out in her mind more than the rest:
‘Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK’
She felt like that sentence would not be up for debate, and felt like it was yelling at her off the page. She also wondered what happened to make that rule explicitly noted down in the acceptance letter.
But she knew for definite there was no way the two dimwitted boys across the hall could make something this complex and detailed up just for a joke. She had to accept it, no matter how bizarre it seemed, that she was a witch. Looking back, some of it made sense. Cressida had always had a talent for luckily getting just what she wanted or tricking people into doing things she wanted them to with a simple thought. Perhaps all her innocent luck had been magic this whole time.
Her mother’s reaction had been more than strange when she found out about it and she was still acting strangely now nearly a month later. The two had had an argument a few weeks ago after Cressida had asked if her magical abilities had anything to do with her dad at the dinner table. It was one of the few nights her mother’s boyfriend, Gareth, wasn’t present and so Cressida knew this was her only chance to bring up her father.
“Of course not!” Her mother snapped in an unusual tone. “You’re father… he… um-” She had faltered then, a dazed look spread across her face as she tried to think clearly. “I should make some tea,” her mother decided, leaving the conversation hanging in the air.
Her mother never spoke about her father. It was like she couldn’t remember a single thing about him whenever Cressida asked. Cressida, obviously, had never met him or sought him out. She had no information to seek him out with apart from the fact he had been only 18, just like her mother, when Cressida was born. Apparently, he had been at her birth, sometimes her mother changed her mind about this detail, and that was all she knew.
She only knew one other thing, she had her father’s eyes. Her mother had deep brown eyes but Cressida had steely grey ones. Sometimes she imagined what her father looked like but always came up empty apart from that one facial feature. Everything else about her appearance was the spitting image of her mother, right down to her thick eyebrows, straggly blonde hair and the beauty mark on her left cheek.
She told herself she was okay with not knowing much about her dad. It hardly affected her current life in any way. Loads of kids from her primary school had only had one parent raising them. She hoped the same was said for wizard kids.
“CRESSIDA!” Gareth’s voice called from the living room.
Cressida rolled her eyes and shoved the letter she had been reading for the thousandth time into her jeans pocket.
Reluctantly, she got up from her tiny bed and wandered out into the living room to find Gareth slumped in his normal chair drinking a beer.
“It’s only nine in the morning,” she muttered when she noticed it. She thought to herself that Gareth had to be one of the worst boyfriends her mother had picked up over the years. The nice ones never stayed for long.
“Don’t be cheeky with me!” He lectured, pointing a fat finger at her. “Your mum’s running late, she said not to forget your chores.”
Cressida leant against her bedroom door frame, crossing her arms. She hated when her mum ran late on the night shift, it meant Gareth made her do all the chores he could easily help out with. “What do you want me to do first?”
Gareth lit a cigarette. “Run down to the shop and get some sausages and beer.”
“I’m eleven,” she reminded him.
He exhaled and looked at her. “Right,” he said as if he had completely forgotten how young she was. “Just the sausages then, you can cook them when you get back. Then you can do the dishes from last night and take the rubbish out.” He puffed on his cigarette again before sending a slimy smile her way. “I want this flat spotless before she gets home. She deserves it.”
Cressida quirked an eyebrow. “You know you don’t live here, right?”
He put out his cigarette and sat up in the chair. “Watch the cheek, Cress!” He warned slowly. “And stay out of trouble,” Gareth added on.
“I’ll do my best,” Cressida replied stonily before grabbing the leather jacket from the back of her bedroom door and walking out of the flat, grabbing a pack of cigarettes lying on the side discreetly as she did so.
Once she was outside the block of flats, she allowed the sun to warm up her face. She knew summer was coming to an end and she didn’t know whether she was glad or disappointed. She liked not being in school and having all day to herself to explore every nook and cranny of her small village but she also liked the idea of disappearing away to boarding school where no one knew her, more importantly, she wouldn’t have to put up with Gareth every day anymore.
Forcing her eyes open again, she started making her way through the alleyway towards the shops, having her usual Saturday morning routine waiting for her arrival. It didn’t take long before she found the exact people she was looking for.
Just outside the small line of shops on the only main road through town, was the usual group of older boys lingering like they had been all summer. They were only fourteen, not that much older than Cressida herself, but they acted as though they were the kings of the village. Cressida knew that it was all a show. If they were really the kings of the village they wouldn’t rely on an eleven year old to get their cigarettes on a weekly basis.
“Little Knightly!” Albie greeted her with a yellowed grin. “What have you got for us today?”
Cressida silently reached into her pocket and produced the packet of cigarettes she had stolen from Gareth. The older boy examined them and then nodded to his companion. Butchy, a much fatter and stockier boy, handed Cressida a ten pound note. “Buy yourself some chocolate or something,” he said as she took the money. Cressida only offered him a small smile in return. Butchy had always been her favourite, he didn’t show off as much as the others.
Cressida pocketed the money and addressed Albie again as he handed a cigarette to each of his friends. “I’ll be gone until Christmas. You’ll have to find someone else to get your cigarettes.”
Albie lit his cigarette clumsily and it wagged in his mouth as he spoke to her. “We’ll miss you, Little Knightly. If those posh boarding school kids give you any trouble, you know where to find us.”
“Yeah, ‘course,” Cressida replied stepping around them to go into the shop, only rolling her eyes once they couldn’t see her. She knew the gang of boys would be useless if she ever needed them for a real fight.
Having done her cigarette deal and the breakfast run in good time, Cressida paused outside her block of flats again. It had only been twenty minutes since she left and the thought of going back inside to cook Gareth breakfast made her wish boarding school was starting even sooner.
Taking a moment for herself, she removed the letter from her back pocket and started reading it again. She told herself this was the last time she would go over it word for word, she knew she’d probably have to stop reading it in two days’ time once she was actually at the school.
Her moment of peace was quickly cut short by a burst of snorting laughter coming from above her. Cressida craned her neck upwards to see two familiar faces leaning out of the third floor flat. Mitch and Lee Powell, two horrid and spotty ginger boys that lived opposite her, were armed with water bombs like they had been for the majority of the summer.
They were dropping them to the ground and laughing manically as it splashed all over the concrete. That was when Cressida realised they had a target. There was a tiny black and white kitten trying to hide from the water bombs under a dilapidated couch set out for the skip man at the front of the flats.
It was poking its head out every few seconds to hiss at the wet intrusion. She recognised the kitten from the previous month of the summer, it always just seemed to be around, but no one seemed to own it.
Cressida stormed forward and narrowly avoided being hit with a water bomb herself. The two brothers paused in their throwing once they saw Cressida, but she didn’t bother to look up to see why.
She went onto her hands and knees, coaxing the kitten out. It hissed at her momentarily and retreated further into the safety of the couch until Cressida opened her leather jacket out. She supposed in the kitten’s mind his less than fearsome meow came out as more than the high pitched rasp that it was. “Come on, buddy,” she whispered to the kitten. She knew the brothers wouldn’t stop throwing water bombs at the poor creature any time soon, but she could at least take it somewhere safer.
Slowly, the kitten crawled forward until it was close enough to be scooped up. It gave a raspy meow of protest to being picked up, and instead crawled out of Cressida’s hands and dug its claws into her shoulder. Cressida didn’t mind and let the kitten perch on her shoulder comfortably as she prepared to get to her feet again.
“What’s this?”
Cressida spun around, clutching at her back pocket when she realised the two brothers were now behind her. Once she was facing them, she saw Mitch, the oldest brother by one year, was holding out her Hogwarts acceptance letters.
“Give them back!” She warned.
“Or what?” Mitch countered holding them out of her reach.
Lee snatched them from his brother to look for himself. “What are they, anyways?”
Cressida rolled her eyes as she watched the two boys struggle to read the cursive writing clearly. If she truly was a witch she imaged turning those horrid boys into toads then and there, but she knew that was unlikely to happen.
While they were distracted, Cressida grabbed the kitten, getting another raspy meow in retaliation as she did so, and set him on the floor for him to make his escape. Annoyingly, instead of running away, the kitten slinked back under the sofa, poking his head out to keep his green eyes on Cressida.
“They’re my school acceptance letters,” she admitted tearing her eyes away from the stubborn kitten.
Both boys looked at her confused. “Aren’t you coming to Conwell Secondary with me and the rest of us?” Mitch asked.
“No,” Cressida snapped. “I’ve got better places to be than that dump-hole.”
“Conwell is the only option for kids like us, Knightly,” Lee told her. He was right of course, but Cressida had been given a way out, she was sure as hell going to take it.
Cressida tried to reach out and snatch the letters back, but Mitch tucked them into his jeans pockets instead and gave her a cocky grin.
“I bet everyone would love to hear about how Knightly scammed her way into a posh school,” Mitch threatened. “Did your mum get with the headmaster or somethin’?”
Feeling anger rising in her chest, Cressida reached out and banged their heads together in one quick movement.
“What was that for?” Lee cursed, rubbing the side of his head in pain.
“Give me my letters or I’ll do a lot worse,” Cressida threatened.
“Like what?” Mitch asked concerned.
Cressida smiled sweetly at them, a look she had nearly perfected in her short lifetime. “You know Albie and his boys?” The two brothers nodded. “Guess who their cigarette dealer is."
Both of their eyes widened in fear. “You wouldn’t! You’re bluffing!” Lee blubbered.
“Try me.” They stood glaring at each other for a moment while they considered this. Just when it looked like they wouldn’t give in, Cressida hardened her eyes again and suddenly the two boys were buckling under her harsh glare.
“Fine,” Mitch agreed, handing her the letters back reluctantly. “But I’m still telling everyone you scammed your way in. There’s no other way you’d get out of going to Conwell Secondary.”
“Yeah,” Lee agreed pathetically while hiding behind his brother.
Cressida pocketed her letters again with a careless shrug. “Tell them whatever you want. I won’t be here to hear it anyway.”
With that, Cressida started making her way back up to her flat to face Gareth.