Chapter 8: The Door

"I think I might spend Christmas at Hogwarts this year."

"What's your family doing?"

Cressida shrugs. "What they always do," she responds quietly. The day is warmer than most have been for the past week and a long sleeve shirt is all she needs as they stand on the astronomy tower. "I think staying at Hogwarts will be fun. Hagrid always makes a mean hot chocolate."

Sirius faces the opposite way to her, leaning backwards against the railing, elbows resting over the highest bar. The soft breeze ruffles through both their hair, though she imagines the image looks more fitting on him than it does her. "I could stay too, you know. Might actually give James some family time this year."

Cressida laughs softly, smiling fondly at the memory of James' parents. Doting people who have spoilt their son. But they have the best intentions. "I'm sure they enjoy your company. And besides, James will insist you come."

"And if you tell him you're staying, he'll invite you too."

Cressida hums absent-mindedly. Sirius is right in saying that James would invite her to the Potters for Christmas, but it isn't her place to be there at such a time. Besides, she does actually want to have a Christmas at Hogwarts at least once. "I just won't tell him then."

Her eyes peel from the soft sky at the sound of her friend's scoff. "You tell James everything," he drawls, head lopping close to his shoulder. "Besides, I'm going to have to explain to him why I'm staying."

Cressida straightens, folding her arms across her chest. "I don't need you to stay with me." She does. Remus goes home every Christmas as well, which would leave her with only a few acquaintances for company for at least two weeks.

Sirius turns back around slowly, hunching forward over the railing. "Right," he murmurs, clearly not believing her. "You crushed try-outs by the way. There's no way Andrews can get the spot."

Cressida can't help but grin. "I know. James and Heffler gave him a hard time. Hell, I would have struggled with the shots they took at his posts." The team is officially released Monday afternoon but most Gryffindors, even those who didn't watch the try-outs, already have a steady idea of who's names are going to be plastered on the notice board. "How's my D.A.D.A homework coming along?"

His lips purse together as he thinks intently about his answer. "It's coming," he eventually declares. "How's Transfiguration study coming along with James?"

"He's a horrid teacher," chuckles Cressida, resting her cheek in her palm. "But it's still fun. How'd I end up doing on that Care of Magical Creatures essay, anyway?"

"You got a 74," Sirius beams. "Well, I did, but you can have the satisfaction that that would have been your grade."

Cressida rolls her eyes, pinching her cheeks between her teeth to keep her smile at bay. It satisfies her more to see no worries in her friends' eyes. The panic of a last-minute assignment due or a low grade. A small sacrifice in her world might make all the difference in theirs.

"Why did we come up here again?"

"Because you needed a break from the sound of first years crying about their potions class."

Cressida laughs pitifully, rubbing a rough hand over her face. "They're so whiny. How long do you reckon we'd get away with using a silencing charm on them?"

A soft smirk plays on his lips, eyes pointing to the horizon for a few quiet moments until they meet hers once more. "I doubt they're smart enough to figure out the counter-curse, so I'd say about two hours before they go to a teacher. But then you would probably have to deal with detention which you've already established you're trying to avoid this year."

Cressida laughs faintly, leaning close so her head is near his shoulder. "So you'll do it for me then? I'm sure you don't mind spending your afternoons cleaning Slughorn's cauldrons."

An arrogant grin takes over the smirk – one she is sure he learnt from James. "Please, I'm smart enough to make sure they don't know it was me."

Xx

Speaking of transfiguration study, Cressida and James currently stride through an empty hall on the seventh floor, searching for an empty classroom. The usual room they hunker down in is hosting a gathering of third-year students wanting to study in a quiet space. Cressida can't blame them, but it does prove to be an annoyance as they need something far away enough from the offices of all the professors, as well as enough space to practice spells.

"You never did tell me why you got upset in potions the other day," Cressida notes casually. "Surely you weren't so sour about Remus and I doing better than you."

James snorts, running his fingers through his hair. "Hardly."

Cressida waits for him to continue but evidently, that is not his plan. "Then what was it? I'm not going to blabber to the others if that's what you're worried about. You know I don't do that."

For a moment, the only sound that comes from him is a heavy exhale as he ruffles his hair around again. "Slughorn's Slug Club is starting back up again."

Cressida narrows her eyes, wondering where on earth the conversation is going. But to humour him, and herself, she hums in acknowledgement. "I presume you are going to be invited once more. Don't worry, the rest of us low-class-students won't do anything too thrilling without you."

"You better not," he chuckles. "They're the most boring thing I've experienced to date."

Cressida leans closer as they walk. "But…?"

James meets her pointed look, and she watches his final walls of resistance break down. "Lily is going to be there," he admits. Cressida leans back up straight, with a knowing smile. Of course. "I'm just worried that if I do horrid in Slughorn's class, that he'll kick me out. It's the only time I get to see her in a small crowd and not in the Common Room."

"Ah," Cressida mutters. She hadn't put two and two together before and had been wondering why James actually went to these special meetings when she knew he'd always come back bored and dreary. "I don't think he'd kick you out even if you blew off his eyebrows. Your parents are almost famous. Wealthy. And so are your ancestors with that healing potions stuff. We all know Slughorn chooses students he thinks will be well known after Hogwarts. He doesn't care that much about grades."

He nods, slowly at first then more confidently. "Yeah," he puffs, "you're right. Have you been talking to Lily more?"

"Not really," she admits, scratching the back of her head. "Not unless it's just Remus and me."

"Well then what can I do, Cress? You're a girl, what would you want me to do?"

Cressida stammers for a response before ultimately shrugging in a large motion. "I don't know what you want me to say, James. You can be annoying, arrogant, pompous, and a toad-"

"Thank you. I hear you falling in love with me by the second."

"But you're my friend," she continues, ignoring his remark. "I get to see sides of you that she doesn't. She's spent years trying to ignore your existence, I've spent them right next to you. I can't- I have no idea what would turn that around." James' playful parade falls off his face, leaving a dry and barren light in his eyes. Cressida closes her own, coming to a stop but James continues on. "James," she whispers, grasping his sleeve before he gets far. She forces him to stop, twirling in front of him to block the path. "I'm just trying to say that Lily and I are in completely opposite positions. I just don't have any experience in hating you, and I could never even imagine that. My advice would be to 'be yourself', but I think you'd hit me if I did say that."

The tweak of a smile reappears. "You're not that good at the advice thing."

Cressida scrunches her nose. "And you're not that good at the teacher thing, yet here we are." They both laugh and Cressida falls back to his side. "Can I ask you something?"

"Only weird people ask permission to ask something. It's sort of counter-intuitive, isn't it?"

"I can't be bothered to respond to that, so I'll take it as a yes. At try-outs, I caught that Quaffles that you threw much too easily. Did you…?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The delicate smirk pulling at the side of his mouth says otherwise. "You're just that good."

"James," she half-groans. "You went easy on me, and then smashed Andrews. That's a little unfair, isn't it?"

The inkling she had was right. James hadn't given his all when approaching her posts, and she could only tell because of the ease the Quaffle landed in her arms with. But to others, James is known not to hold back so they'd never think twice.

"Your head wasn't in the game," James says, swinging an arm around her shoulder loosely. "I just needed you to remember that you're good. And I'll admit, I went a little hard on Andrews, but if he couldn't handle that, then he'd never handle the dirt Slytherin plays with."

"You swayed try-outs," Cressida counters pointedly.

"You could just thank me," he goads. "I was being a good friend."

Cressida holds her tongue for a moment, giving him one last huff and glare, but resigns to his pressing look. "Thank you. I'll admit it did actually help. Andrews has a way of getting under your skin."

"Don't I know it?" James growls. "He wasn't even taunting me, and I was ready to punch him."

"That's because you take everything too personally," she says, poking his side. "I remember when someone said something about Sirius while he wasn't there and you casted the bat-bogey curse perfectly for the first time."

"Why wouldn't I?" he questions, sounding generally interested in an answer. "You're my friends."

Cressida smiles, nodding in agreement. They round a corner to the right, and barely a step in front of him, her smiles drops liking metal in water. Throwing her arm out, it rams into James' stomach, but it isn't enough for him to stop.

Lily and Severus Snape are talking, alone in an empty corridor. It isn't the most unusual sight to be beheld, but it has grown less common since first year. "James, no. Please." Cressida doesn't know if her quiet pleas are heard by the other two but James acts as if he doesn't. Snape, by himself, is enough for James to become riled up. But Snape with Lily boils his blood. Cressida spins around, physically pushing him back around the corner. He tries to push against her until one forceful shove drags his eyes back down to her own. "Not today," she whispers.

His defences falter, a stagger in his step. She doesn't exactly know why she is so insistent on not fighting. Maybe she's just tired of it and the risk is higher than the reward. Her eyes drift down his right arm, settling on the wand tightly gripped between his fingers. "He's scum," James hisses. "A Death Eater in the making. If he isn't one already."

"He is," Cressida agrees wholeheartedly. "And you're a good person. I'm asking you as a friend to please leave it be today."

Her hands drop from his shoulders, feeling no pressure placed against her ready muscles. James doesn't move forward. In fact, the biggest movement he makes is deep breathes that raises his chest. To finish her point, Cressida slowly pulls his wand from his fingers. He lets her, simply watching as she tucks it through her bun. "Let's go somewhere else."

Silently he follows her, letting Cressida take the lead entirely. They walk back the way they came, before turning around again after not finding anything suitable, and head towards the stairs. "Maybe today isn't our day," James notes. "We could always go to the library."

Cressida makes an expression of disgusted disbelief. "I haven't been with you for an hour and that makes me scared someone's taken a Polyjuice potion to look like you. James Potter would never suggest the library."

He cackles, uncaring if his voice carries through the halls. And maybe he'd come up with a witty response, but the beaming grin falls back down into an expression she cannot read. His eyes are pointed behind her so Cressida spins on her feet. The muscles on her face pull into something similar as the stone in front of them, morphs into something new entirely. Into a door.