Chapter 12: A Shot in the Dark

Cressida searches through the lower level of the house first, hoping that he had just gone to the kitchen or bathroom, but with no sign of any life, she heads upstairs towards his bedroom.

The wood underneath her socked feet creaks slightly in odd places, yet familiar from the many times she's taken note of it from sneaking around.

James' door is shut, which makes her second guess her confidence that he would be there. Why would he come up here and shut his door? He hadn't given any hint – that she noticed – that he didn't want to be down there. Nevertheless, she ends up at the foot of his door, raising her knuckles. She taps three times.

Cressida hears a muffled, "Yeah?" so she opens the door. She's always amazed how perfectly his room matches him. James stands near his window, hands braced on the sill, despite the outside being dark. He doesn't look over his shoulder to see who she is, nor does he call out. Cressida strides forward quietly, ducking underneath one of his arms and pops up between them, her lower back pressing against the windowsill. She ignores how little room there is between the window and James, and consequently her.

He sighs once his eyes gloss over her face – or maybe just an exhale that's bigger than usual. Is there a difference? "What's up buttercup?" Cressida questions with a tiny smile. His throat bobs in a slow gulp, both brows raising in silent questioning. "Not a fan of that one? How about, why so glum, chum?" There's a minuscule lift in the corner of his mouth. Cressida tries one more, adding a movement with her head. "What's the deal, banana peel?" James still doesn't respond, only staring at her tiredly. "Ok, well I'm out of funky greetings so this is the part where you respond with why you just left. Unless of course, you'd rather talk to someone else – and I'm completely fine with dragging one of those boys up here by the ear."

"I'm fine, Cress," he mumbles.

"No, that's what you say at the end once you talk to me," she drawls, poking his stomach with the middle knuckle of her finger. "I know it's more of a girly thing to do – talk about feelings and stuff – but it's also healthy and a good way to have communication."

"You and Sirius," he says, no longer keeping their soft volume. "You were joking and laughing about what happened the other week. I just... I…"

Her brows furrow deeply. "I don't understand. All of us joke about this type of stuff. Remember the time Peter broke both his arms because the Whomping Willow got him good? Sure we were worried at the time but he was patched up in a heartbeat and we were joking about it the next day."

"I know," James breathes out quickly. "But we knew he'd be fine. We just had to get him to Pomfrey. Cress, I didn't know if you'd be alright." She forces herself to hold his steady gaze though her instincts tell her to look somewhere else. "I didn't know what had happened, I got there and the both of you were covered in blood. You looked like you were about to faint, we didn't have any dittany and I was scared that going back to get my parents would have been too long." He licks his lips, letting his head drop forward between his shoulders.

Cressida's face burns in embarrassment. An embarrassment that the situation has created such a fuss.

"I was genuinely terrified," he whispers, a hard contrast to the steady toned voice from seconds ago. "And… I can't get past feeling that every time I think about it and hearing you laugh now, I feel like we're remembering different things. It's still a bad memory."

Cressida nods slowly, digesting his perspective. To her and Sirius, they had faced a crazy day with all sorts of highs and lows. He was there to bicker with her straight after they came from the woods and she knows that like her, was panicking beyond what they needed to. But they can see that in hindsight. And laugh.

But James came in through the worst part – when they truly began to run out of ideas. He didn't have time to rationalise anything, he didn't know that she'd been wide awake for at least fifteen minutes before he got there and was feeling fine for the most of it. Relatively

"I'm sorry," she says, her hands sliding up the sides of his chest and over his shoulders to interlock behind his neck. "I didn't realise how you felt. But you know I'm fine. I'd rather this be a story we can joke about one day. It's sort of a shame don't even have a scar."

"And I will. One day." His head lifts back up, this time with a quiet smile. "Just… imagine that Sirius got hurt badly in Quidditch. Like Braxton did. It'd take you a while before you felt alright teasing him, wouldn't you?"

Cressida nods. "Maybe." The left side of her mouth pulls up in a curious manner. "Why didn't you just say you?"

A line forms over the top of the bridge of his glasses. "What?"

"We're talking about you being upset about me getting hurt, so an equal comparison would be me getting worried about you. Yet you said Sirius."

James blinks, eyes darting to the side. Maybe she's overthought it, but it's just an odd thing she picked up on. "I suppose so," he mumbles with a shrug. "Saying Sirius just felt natural."

Cressida quirks her lips up into a teasing smile, letting her thumb brush up and down the nape of his neck. "Well for the record, I'd be just as worried about you. I'd even come visit you in the hospital wing."

James chuckles almost silently, his shoulders readjusting and Cressida feels his forearms press ever so slightly tighter across her sides. "Yeah?"

"And if you were nice to me the days before, I might even sneak out to Hogsmeade and bring you back some treacle tart."

His lips round in a silent 'Oo'. "What would I have to do for you to bring me cauldron cakes?"

Cressida clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in deep thought. "I think you'd have to do my homework for a month."

James shifts his weight from foot to foot. "A month? That's a bit rough, isn't it? I bring you sweets all the time for nothing."

"Which is a mistake on your part," she points out, tilting her head to the side, also readjusting the weight on her feet. James nods with a smile that he doesn't bother hiding. "Pretend I didn't say that. Those sweets are what keep me going sometimes."

"I promise I'll never stop bringing you them," he chuckles, leaning forward even more. He drops his elbows to the windowsill, running his forearms behind her back. Every nerve on her skin is working overtime to feel every place that he's touching her. His arms almost entirely run across the length of her back. One of his knees is bent forward and pressing on the outside of her thigh, just above her own knee. The windowsill is high enough that he doesn't have to bend over, meaning he still stands taller by a few inches. Her fingers move up to thread through the hair on the back of his head, scratching. "You like sugar quills the most, don't you?"

Cressida nods stiffly, wondering how she is managing to breathe. "And jelly slugs." James nods slowly, as though he is taking a mental note. She barely restrains herself from jumping forward as fingers press lightly against her back, tracing back and forth in the same light scratching motion her own fingers are doing.

Reality snaps back into place.

"We're missing the movie," Cressida declares, eyes pointing towards the door. "It's one of my favourites." Not waiting to hear his response, her arms fall down from his neck and she pushes through his encircled arm. Despite the previous firm stance James had before, his arms fall apart the moment she pushes them away. Not knowing what else to do, Cressida continues to his door, leaving it wide open and strides back to the living room.

The movie has already played past the introduction scenes. Remus looks mildly interested, Peter is half asleep, and on the far end of the lounge, Sirius is curled up under a blanket, eyes not moving from the picture. Cressida passes her old seat, traversing to the far side. Nudging her way between Peter and Sirius, she pulls the edge of his blanket up and immerses herself into its protection.

Sirius glances down at her with a certain look that she knows all too well. Cressida returns it with small shake of her head.

James emerges from the hallway, slowly walking towards his original seat. Cressida can't bring herself to even look in his direction.

She doesn't feel anything.

She doesn't feel anything.

She can't let herself feel anything. Whatever that was, was either a misunderstanding on her part, or James' projection of wanting affection and he's automatically coming to her for it because a) Lily Evans isn't yet an option and b) Cressida is the only other female in the vicinity besides his mother.

There's an awkward silence in the room, despite the movie playing as everybody seems to wonder what is happening. From the corner of her eye, she can see Remus lean forward slightly and look at her. Cressida meets his gaze, narrowing her eyes partially then looks back to the screen. Sirius sighs, tossing his arm lazily over her shoulder, pulling her head closer to his.

At the end of the movie, Remus has fallen asleep, Peter is bored and waiting for the horror film to be put on next and Sirius is trying to hold tears at bay – which she ignores for his own dignity. And James… well, she can't see him to tell. Peter switches the film out to whatever gory thing he desires. It is easy to say that Sirius' tears soon disappear and his expression morphs into repulsion but intrigue. Half-way through the movie, Cressida shrivels her nose as one of the characters is disembowelled. "I'm gonna get a drink," she mutters to Sirius whose eyes don't leave the screen. Crawling off the couch, she saunters into the kitchen to pour a glass of water and takes her time sipping at it while the worst part of the movie plays. She's seen it before; her father left the tv on one night after he passed out and she crept downstairs to watch it. Like Sirius, her eyes didn't leave the screen, even as a ten-year-old.

Had she offended James? If she misread the situation, then he's probably wondering what he did wrong to make her leave in such a rush. Cressida doesn't want that – she wants everything to be normal with him. They both need that reassurance.

Placing the empty glass in the sink, she wanders back to the lounge with her arms loosely crossed over her stomach. The movie has moved onto a chase scene. Through a dark forest through the middle of the night of course. Suspenseful.

Quietly coming to the back of the lounge, just behind James, her hands creep over the piece of furniture. The chase scene has paused, a frantic girl turning in a circle as her manic hunter hides behind a tree – though not yet visible to the also unaware audience.

"Boo." Cressida doesn't even need to shout the words. Her hands latch onto James' shoulders which jolt forcefully, his muscles tensing under her grip. A short shriek passes his lips which sets off a chain reaction. Peter screams next, longer and louder which awakens Remus who splutters and nearly falls from the lounge. Cressida laughs, bending forward over the back of the lounge.

James flops against it, a hand resting on his chest. "Bloody hell," he whispers. Cressida continues laughing, striding around the side of the lounge to perch on the armrest. Her arm stays around his shoulders, which the closest presses against her ribs.

"I forgot you don't like horror," she recalls softly as the other three resettle themselves back into the movie.

James breathes sharply through his nose, blinking purposefully. "Why would someone enjoy it?"

Cressida shrugs slightly. "Fear without danger?" she suggests. His head turns to the side, his cheek pressing against her upper arm. He doesn't look impressed by her words. "Honestly I'm not sure either. There's something about them though."

"Shh!"

Cressida scoffs silently as Sirius hushes her, settling against the back of the lounge. James looks back to the film, his eyes working overtime to take in the entirety of the scene. He doesn't seem upset with her, but she stays to make sure. Her eyes roll at her own excuse. Her fingers lightly brush back and forth over the left side of his chest where they hang naturally.

For a while, he makes no acknowledgement of her presence. It's not until the climax of the film begins and even Cressida forgets where she is seated that he pulls himself away from her. She quickly pulls her arm back, her own shoulders straightening as she forges an escape plan. James shuffles to the left, making a small gap between himself and the armrest. Then one of his hands rests on her hip and tugs her downwards. Cressida slides from the perch and onto the lounge once more.

It is like their positions have switched, and she cannot let her muscles un-tense at his touch. His arm retreats back from behind her, instead laying in the small divot created by their legs pressing together.

Focus on the movie.

"Peter," Sirius hisses. "I can hear you breathing."

"Sorry," the quiet boy squeaks.

Cressida can feel the back of his fingers brush against hers. She lets her hand unfurl, her smallest finger pushing his upwards. And that must be the permission he was seeking because his hand engulfs hers. There is a surge of confidence that flows through both of them; their shoulders slouching and their breathing smoother. She lets her head tip the side, her cheek pressing against the end of his shoulder. Soon after, his cheek presses against the top of her head.

Xx

The house is the quietest it has been since the rest of their tight group showed up. James, Peter and Remus are all in their rooms, tucked under their blankets and ready for a good sleep.

Sirius and Cressida, however, are in the kitchen, trying to move about with no lights on. It's taken them ten minutes to source down two containers and their lids, and now they fill them up with water just above half way.

Cressida pushes down firmly on the lid to make sure that no water would spill out of it and checks if Sirius is also ready. With broad smirks, and their tools at the ready, the pair tiptoe up to the second story of the manor.

Upon reaching the guest bedroom, Sirius turns the knob ever-so-slowly and pushes the door open enough so that they can peek in. Remus' sleeping figure is huddled under a large duvet, despite it being Summer. Cressida has to pinch her lips between her teeth so she doesn't laugh impulsively.

Mouthing a count down, they begin to shake around their containers in a rhythmic pattern, creating a loud sloshing sound. After only a few seconds, Remus shifts on his bed, but doesn't make any noise. Sirius leans against the wall, licking his lips in a drawn-out manner. Then moans in a high-pitched tone. Cressida barely holds herself together as Remus shoots up in his bed. The darkness masks his face, but there's no mistaking what it would look like.

"I swear to Merlin," he hisses, pushing the duvet off his legs which thud against the wooden floorboards. He marches towards the two crouching figures by his door who scamper off down the hall. "I just want sleep!"

Cressida holds the railing at the bottom of the stairs to hold herself upright, laughing even more as Sirius trips on the bottom stairs, the lid of his container flying off and the water drenching his front.

Ahh!
Thank you so much to both KelseyBl and anniestark!
KelseyBl - I just love the way you pick up on things and really actually read the story. Like it makes me so excited to see you note different things that I think about and write down with purposeful intent. It really makes the effort I put into writing worth it and thank you so so much for really delving into this story! And I hope you're prepared to stick around for a while. 3

And anniestark - ahh, your reviews always make me giggle! I either wake up to them or read them moments before I get to sleep so I always either finish or start my day on a great note and they're always so sweet. 3

And I can promise you both that updates are going to be constant and every single day - I have over fifty chapters already ready but I stay paced in updating since I still have many more to write and I'd rather be constant.

Again, thank you so much and reviews like these really make my day!