Chapter 50: An End to the Year

It has been a quiet afternoon for the most part. The boys had gone off in their own small adventures and Cressida had retreated back to her dorm room which has been left unoccupied by anybody else for the better part of the day. She'd already spent a few hours drawing random and nonsensical sketches in the diary, moving onto readying her belongings to be packed away for the end of the school year. But by now, she is one-hundred and thirty-two pages into a book she had stolen from Lily's neat book stack.

Cressida even comes to forget that her body exists in a different world to the one on the pages until her world of escapism is disturbed by the sound of a door clicking. Her eyes widen, muscles quickly moving to hide the book from view as she hadn't asked permission from the redhead who is very protective of her belongings, but that concern transforms entirely.

Lily's eyes are just as red as her hair but the rest of her skin is pale and stark. She almost doesn't notice Cressida, faltering when she does. "Oh," she murmurs, eyes darting towards the door.

Cressida shakes her head, not wanting Lily to feel as though she cannot have a safe space in her own dorm. They don't have the smoothest relationship, but Cressida could admit that she does like Lily. "Are you alright?" she asks as softly as her voice allows. "I- sorry, silly question. I mean, would you like some time alone, or a hug?"

Lily gulps, glancing to the door again but ultimately rests her eyes on Cressida. "Is Marlene around?"

"No, she left for Hogsmeade with Dorcas this morning. They should be back soon…" She sits up further, the book forgotten. Truthfully, she feels nervous. It had been easy with Lily for the most part – in terms of living with her. They go about their mornings and nights with ease. It was light and easy flowing like a river stream. Wringing her fingers around each other, Cressida offers a timid smile. "I don't bite if it's that hug you need."

Lily lets out a short, choked laugh turning sob and strides towards Cressida's bed. She barely rises in time to meet her but her arms are ready and welcome Lily into them without hesitation. The grip on the back of her shirt is tight and unwavering.

"He called me one," Lily heaves through laboured breaths.

Cressida pinches her brows. "Who called you what?"

Lily lets out another long heave, her chest pounding into Cressida's. "Severus. He called me a Mudblood."

Her eyes close in a silent hiss, regretting her almost harmless wind charm against him – wishing it had been something more threatening. But that's not what Lily wants to hear. And what could Cressida say in this situation? That she's sorry the slimy git said that to her? Lily and Snape have been friends for years and clearly, she held a special position in his heart if they stayed so close after so long, and vice versa. "I'm so sorry," is all she can find. "I know how that feels. Maybe not someone I considered a friend, but I know how the word feels."

"I just-I just thought that h-he wasn't like them." Lily pulls away slightly but doesn't leave Cressida's hold entirely. She grips either arm of the brunette; lost and confused. "He said he just read stuff. I went to him to-to confront him about the spell that he used on James. He talked about creating the spell, but I never thought he'd actually use it and…and I…"

Cressida swallows, taking the information in as fast as she can. As she takes in Lily's expression which has turned from panicked to cautious, she realises why Lily had trailed off. Shaking her head, Cressida smiles softly. "Snape was your friend. And he's betrayed that friendship by his own doing."

She can't say 'I told you so' or 'that's what we tried to warn you about' or anything along those lines. James may antagonise Snape based both on his despisal for the Slytherin house in general and Snape's clear affection for Lily (which he has just ruined), but Sirius hates Snape for reasons that are beyond simple rivalry or Snape's house colours. And she doesn't have a defence for her own actions besides following in their footsteps. "I don't want to say this from a biased point of view, and I don't want you to think I'm saying it to ruin whatever strings of friendship you have left between you, but I don't think that's forgivable, Lily. I really don't. If Sirius ever called me that out of anger or something… I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive him for that." Even the scenario of it playing throughout her head is gut-wrenching. A fear, she realises, that she had tried to suppress for many years. The idea that Sirius would submit to his family to finally feel accepted by them – to toss his friends aside, her aside.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers again, drawing Lily back in.

Xx

Lily eventually retreated to Marlene's side once the blond beauty returned from Hogsmeade, leaving a quiet, and truthfully tired Cressida to wander back down to the main area of the Common Room to let them have space. It's almost silent in the room, a few younger students playing chess in the far corner but with only three days remaining and no classes, most students are spending it on the main grounds.

But she is pleased to see the back of Sirius' head over the brim of the red couch. Cressida marches towards it, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, but stops near the armrest. Sirius smiles up at her. "Hey, is Evan's alright?" She nods, noting that he must have seen her come up. An unwelcome stream of tears floods her own eyes. His own eyes instantly turn wide and attentive. Cressida can now reassure herself, looking at the softness behind them, that he's still the Sirius she knows. The stupid and silly scene of Sirius turning against her like Snape had Lily had been running through her head ever since Lily told her what had happened.

Before he can stand to offer her comfort as she knows he will, Cressida lets her knees drop onto the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck. He tries to shift around to face her more, but she could care less how he is sitting, only that he's letting her hug him.

Xx

The kitchens are almost pitch black through the middle of the night; the house-elves not getting back to work until the early morning. But there is a kind and very bouncy elf wandering about, helping James and Cressida with their midnight cravings.

Cressida leans against the counter with a placid smile, not really thinking about anything in particular until James joins her, almost mimicking her loosely folded arms. "Is there something bothering you?"

Her eyebrows raise in surprise, arms falling down by her sides. "No," she answers honestly. "Should there be?"

James shrugs with one shoulder, his arms also unfolding as he pushes up his dark blue knitted sweater. "I don't know. Sirius just said you were having a hard day."

Swallowing, she rolls her eyes with a fond smile. "He's so pushy for answers," she muses. "That boy can't stand not knowing something." James chuckles, nodding in agreement. "I'm fine. I just…freaked myself over nothing out I guess."

He nods again, slower this time. "As long as you're alright then," he murmurs, eyes glazing around the kitchen. His arms extend behind him, bracing against the bench and she can hear the soft drumming of his fingers. "What are you having?"

"Just a hot chocolate," Cressida smiles cheekily.

"When it's nearly Summer?" he questions with a small laugh.

Shrugging, she knocks his arm back slightly with her own so she can perch on the bench instead, wanting to escape the feeling of nearly being encased by his arm. "It's a cool night."

For a third time, he nods slowly. They stay in a comfortable silence a little longer, only disturbed by the sound of something moving at the hands of the house-elf serving them.

"How would you feel about going to France with me?"

Cressida's jaw drops slightly though her lips stay sealed together. It takes her a moment to recall that she had been expecting something along the line of this question after Sirius revealed it to her. "France?" she repeats, bluffing her unbeknownst. "Like to the Quidditch Cup."

"Yeah," James breathes with a smooth smile. He pushes off the bench with one hand, swinging it around to rest once more against the wood, this time facing towards Cressida with his arms either side of her legs. Just what she had tried to escape. "We're going for about five days. See some of the sights first then the Cup on the third night."

She tries to make it seem like she is thinking about the offer, though her mind had been made up many days before. "I don't know, James," she whispers. "Who else is coming?"

"It'll just be us two, actually. Plus my Mum and Dad of course. Remus and Peter could care less about it."

"What about Sirius?" she pushes gently.

James runs his tongue over his lips, bowing his head for a brief moment. "We wanted to," he says. "I wanted you both to come but… we can't take Sirius out of the country." Cressida's brows furrow in confusion. "Sirius coming to our place is by his own accord, but there's a risk that if we took him overseas without consent from his parents while he's underage, they could claim something like abduction just to get at us."

"Oh," she murmurs, not having thought about that. "I…I think I might be in the same boat I'm afraid. I don't think my father would ever let me leave the country without him."

"Actually," James starts with a small and crooked smile. "My mother figured a way around that. See, your father might be a bit difficult to work around, but your mother isn't. And my family is currently in possession of written and signed consent from your mother. Which means that even if your father tried to do anything, we have proof of parental consent." His arrogance shows through his entire being; broad shoulders opening, his chest rising with his chin.

Cressida is left uncertain of what to think. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing this?"

"Well I originally wanted to ask you for your birthday," he explains easily, "but then I figured if you couldn't, or said no, then I'd look pretty shitty for not having a present. But I thought it'd still be a nice surprise in any case."

Her mouth moves like a fish. "I-I...I can't afford to go to France, James."

The boisterous and arrogant smile widens with a scoff. "I just said it was supposed to be a present. I'm not asking you to pay anything." One of his hands leaves the table, coming to rest on the junction of her hip and thigh, thumb pressing against the bone. At her still obvious hesitation, he adds, "This way you won't need photos to see my reaction to eating a snail."

Cressida miserably fails to hold her smile between her teeth, eyes squinting shut from the rise in her cheeks. How is she supposed to say no to him?

"Alright," she whispers, letting the smile show as she lets her lips go. "I'll come to France."