Chapter 5: Man to Man

The Potions room is remarkably stuffy for how cold it can become, down so low. Each table has a brewing station already set up, their cauldrons filled with water and heated with a low flame. Slughorn is their potions master and a strange one at that. A jolly man but there is just something about him that Cressida can not put her finger on. And most of her doesn't bother to.

Potions, as it seems, is not where her talents lay. Of course, talent does not equal everything and she still does well enough to pass, but she does not find the same ease in the class that Lily Evans or Snape does.

"Alright class," Slughorn calls for attention, "you'll be working with the person next to you for today. The recipe is on page eighty-four."

The classroom is filled with chairs scraping against the stone as they are tucked under the desks. Cressida leans forward, almost lazily, flipping through the brand new potions book on the desk. "A 'Wit-sharpening' potion," she reads aloud to her partner. "The antidote to the confundus charm," she adds purely out of mild interest. "Doesn't look too hard."

Remus gives her a smirk out of the corner of his mouth. "Don't get too relaxed yet. And I want you to let me double-check everything before you do it."

"You have no faith in me," she states. "Remus, I have a plan. You don't need to worry."

His expression morphs into a wince as he reads over the recipe in his own book. "You said that last year. And you ended up burning my eyebrows off." He pulls down on the skin at the end of the short hairs. "It's still patchy."

Cressida leans closer, eyeing off the small, uneven patch of hair. "Are you sure it wasn't like that before?" Remus smacks her quietly with the back of his hand, sending her into a fit of giggles. "And trust me, my plan is better this year. I'll go get the ingredients."

Ginger root, armadillo bile, scarab beetles.

Easy.

Laying the ingredients back out, Remus starts working on the preparation work, crushing the scarab beetles. Her own attention lingers on two of her friends on the opposite side of the large, squared table. Sirius is already trying to stir something into the cauldron whilst James is attempting to stop him, but the longer-haired boy pays him no heed. "We may not be the best, but at least we'll do better than those two," she notes to Remus. He stops his grinding, and the pair watch the other pair bicker. Sirius only starts to listen once James slaps his hands. "And to think I spent three years being that idiot's partner."

"I was content with being James' by the way," he cheeks. "Thanks for consulting me when you decided to kick him out of his seat."

They, along with most other students, begin on their potion. Cressida lets Remus take the lead, her eyes set on somewhere else entirely. Her mouth mimes a count. 'One, two three.' "Three."

Remus half-pauses. "Huh?"

"Put in three ginger pieces," she demands, handing him back the root.

Remus frowns at her, looking back down at the recipe. "But it says two on here."

"And Snape put in three," she counters.

Remus' eyes follow her gaze. Just on the far end of another table is the git they call Snivellous is working by himself (no surprise there). He has an outstanding capability in potions that not even her friends can deny. And for years, at James aggravation, he's excelled the class. If her and Remus can just outdo him in one class, Snape would hate them forever because of it. Not that he doesn't already, but his anger at them fuels her beyond belief. James and Sirius would be more than content for that to happen, even if not by themselves.

Hesitantly, Remus adds a third ginger cutting into the potion. The already green liquid intensifies and for a brief moment, both wonder if they've ruined it within the first ten minutes. But to their amazement, the green simply becomes a more vibrant, and a very lime, green. Perfect according to the book. "Does this count as cheating?" Remus murmurs.

"It's not a test," Cressida replies in the same voice, scribbling the changes into the book. "But it might be on one. And if we're just following the recipe then, we're not cheating. We're using our resources."

Remus seems to agree with her analysis and while he stays in charge of adding and stirring the potion, Cressida's eyes barely leave the greasy-haired Slytherin, making heavy note of every little move that he makes over his potion.

Near the end of the class, Cressida and Remus are sweating from the constant heat off all the cauldrons. Anxiousness riddles her, eyes darting between their shared cauldron and Snape's. Remus is stirring anti-clockwise, waiting for it to turn yellow and it is in the slow process. Snape is doing the same movement, and it's a matter of luck to who finishes first. The only other major competitor they have is Lily Evans but even she is still adding armadillo bile for the second time.

Slughorn wanders through the classroom, and she eyes his path. He leans over James' shoulder, wincing slightly as he peers into it. Which does bring a small smile to her face. Maybe next lesson she'll sit next to him and let Remus suffer Sirius' remarkable incapability in potions. Remus would surely be more than content to have her back.

But the smile drops as Slughorn's path diverts towards Snap who is doing his last check on the potion's colour. Before Slughorn can pass by her and Remus, surely giving Snape the edge on them, her hand shoots up into the air. "Sir!"

"It's not ready," Remus hisses in her ear, hurriedly stirring still.

Cressida ignores him, dropping her hand back down as Slughorn changes direction and heads towards them. Over his shoulder, her eyes spy Snape's blithering glare set right at her. "Ah, this is a surprise," Slughorn grins. They both ignore the subtle insult.

Remus takes a sharp breath, stepping back and dropping the stirring stick. Cressida sighs in relief as the liquid is a bright yellow, much nicer than the murky pond-water colour it was merely seconds ago.

Their professor leans over, dipping a spoon into it and bringing it up to his nose. He sniffs hard, but does not give any indication of a reaction as he lets the potion drop back into the cauldron. Remus and Cressida stare at him, along with a quarter of the class. Slughorn straightens back up, and finally a smile tugs. "Perfect enough to bottle up and sell."

Their sighs are audible, but they wait until he has moved on until they breathlessly laugh. "Why was that so intense?" Remus chuckles, leaning on the table. Cressida smirks to herself as Slughorn inspects Snape's potion.

"Am I, or am I not a genius?"

Remus laughs again airily, nodding. "Scandalous, but genius."

They wander over to James and Sirius' cauldron. Cressida leans closer but immediately backs away as the liquid, which is supposed to be green at this point, is an inky black. James sighs to himself, hopelessly stirring it around. Sirius is intently reading the recipe. "It's not supposed to look like that."

James drops the stick, hands forming fist around the air. "You think?" he hisses, cheeks glowing red. Cressida slowly raises a hand to his back, rubbing it softly, concerned about how worked-up he is over a simple potions class.

"Settle down, mate. I'll go ask Evans if you can reverse it from this."

James slouches over, pulling his chair back out. "Don't bother." James Potter is rarely this upset over a simple class gone wrong. Hell, he's the reason it goes wrong most of the time. "How'd you guys get it so perfect? And faster than Snivellous at that."

"Pure skill," Cressida smirks, leaning against the workbench. The potion bubbles with a thick slurp, causing her to take a step back and tug James along with her. There's a reason you shouldn't sit down at an active potion bench. "I'll sit with Sirius next lesson."

"Why am I the runt here?"

Remus cocks his head to the side. "Why do you think?"

Xx

"This is not how I wanted to spend my evening."

James tosses Remus the Quaffle, which the scrawny boy barely catches in time. "That's too bad then, isn't it? Because we need someone to practice against."

Remus tosses the Quaffle back with half as much strength. He is donning quidditch gear taken from the training equipment. It's awkward and lanky on him but better than nothing. "You could ask Heffler?" Heffler, one of the other two Chasers on the Gryffindor team. Well, the assumed team since it hasn't been officially created this year yet.

Sirius swings around a bat that looks like a short version of the one used in the muggle sport, baseball. "Why would we do that?" Remus only gives a self-berating look, half-agreeing with Sirius. "Don't worry, I won't be aiming for you."

"But if he does," Cressida interjects, "fly upwards. He has a weaker upswing then his downswing."

Sirius points the bat at her threatening. "I would argue against that, but unfortunately it is true. But that's what I'll be working on most this year, so by all means, fly higher. And I'm flattered you noticed, Hawthorne. Paying attention to my games?"

Cressida rises up from the ground, having finishing lacing her boots. She gives Sirius an incredulous expression, along with James who stands behind him, also confused at Sirius' words. "Dude, I'm on the team. I listen to Baxton complaining about it all the time."

Sirius pauses, seemingly becoming dumbfounded by himself. "Oh yeah."

Cressida shakes her head, laughing to herself. As they walk to the pitch, brooms in hands, Cressida jumps from foot to foot, warming up her reflexes. James is doing something similar with his arms, tossing the Quaffle back and forth with Remus while Sirius is stretching his arms in all directions. Peter is already at the pitch, waiting near the break stands.

Remus eventually misses one, which ends up knocking Sirius in the side of the head. A scuffle starts, involving Sirius chasing Remus with the bat, using the Quaffle quite like a baseball as Remus sprints towards the field.

Cressida saunters closer to James, knocking his elbow. "You all good?"

He nods, his infamous half-smile, half-smirk donning his cheeks. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Cressida shrugs, pressing her lips out. "You seemed worked up in potions. And I wasn't' joking, I'll sit with Sirius tomorrow."

James chuckles, showing no signs of his previous distress. "That'll be a disastrous lesson then. Remind me to sit at the far end of the room."

"Do you not remember my perfect potion today?" she teases right back, pointing at her chest. "Believe it or not, that was because of me, not Remus."

His eyes squint slightly, head tipping closer to his shoulder as the walk. "So then I should sit with you next lesson and not Remus?"

"Well Remus now knows the secret to my genius as well, so it won't make a difference. Besides, you're good at potions. You don't need my stroke of genius to help you." She drifts off slightly, debating whether to ask him or not. It's not like he would say no – it's him saying yes without thinking that she doesn't want him to do. Their year is already going to be filled. "If you have the time, do you mind helping me in transfiguration this year? I can already tell Remus is going to be drained trying to help Sirius and Peter and I feel bad for asking you, but I really didn't want to ask him and-"

"Cress," James breathes, half laughing at her ramblings. "I'll help you. As long as you can help me in Charms. Flitwick has it out for me, I swear."

Cressida smiles in satisfaction. "Sounds like a deal to me. And you didn't answer my question earlier." They arrive on the Quidditch pitch, Sirius already flying around on his broom over the empty stands. Remus is also in the air, but stationary, Quaffle lodged under his arm and waiting on the final two members. "Why were you so worked up in potions?"

James shrugs, almost like he had forgotten. He goes to continue into the pitch but Cressida stops in the arched entrance, playing on the hope that he would stop as well. It takes him three steps to slow and turn around, sighing at her awaiting expression. "It was stupid."

"So there is a reason," she concludes, pushing for more. Clearly her friend doesn't want to talk about it, glancing over his shoulder towards the pitch. Sighing silently, Cressida saunters forward those extra steps, squeezing his shoulder. "Tell me later then. Or tell Sirius if you'd rather have a 'man to man' chat." She says the words in the deepest voice she can conjure. James' expression falls back into the usual cocky grin.

"Don't ever say that again."