Chapter 27: Pea Brain
Cressida isn't quite sure she expects to happen this evening. The Room with the Hidden Door, as they've taken to call it, looks no different than usual. An ever-roaring fireplace, the lounges and the table. But, instead of an array of objects lining the bookshelves, there are actual books this time.
It's a Monday evening, about an hour or so after dinner and the usual time that she and James come up here to do either Transfiguration or Charms study. And that's why she has no idea what is going to happen. She and James hadn't been on speaking terms since Saturday afternoon but it felt wrong to ignore this chance at seeing each other alone.
Cressida trails slowly in front of the bookshelves, reading each of the covers to find something that might pique her interest. There's a blend of muggle and magical, some new some old. Some look like they've been read a thousand times over, others like they've never been touched.
But there is also a book with a slither of something red poking out of it. Her feet stop short, eyes pinned on the book. Cressida pulls it out of the slot, turning the cover upwards. It's a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them. Hardly that fascinating when there are ten copies in the school library. With her other arm out of the sling but still wrapped, Cressida flips the pages until reaching the one with the red paper.
A bookmark.
This is somebody's book. How long has it been there?
But the book is forgotten in an instant as the black door creaks open. James slips in, his school bag at his side. He looks just as surprised to see her there as she is to see him. Yet they both came.
The air is still, Cressida likening it to the inside of a tomb – though she's never been in one to compare. "Charms or Transfiguration today?" she asks, daring to break the silence. In an effort to look more relaxed, she lets herself sits partially on the table.
James pinches his brows, glancing around the room as though to avoid her eyes. "I desperately need help with the Charms homework." His eyes meet hers again, a soft and warm light behind them but still ready to turn cold at any second like hers are.
Cressida nods, placing her bag on the table to bring out the books she brought, shoving the forgotten one to the side. James wanders over to the other side, rifling through the parchment in his bag. Cressida watches him, almost forgetting about her own search but the odd touch of leather pulls her eyes back down. The two-way diary. She peeks back at James but he's sorting through a pile of wrinkled paper so she opens the diary under the cover of her bag. It almost appears empty at first, but on the very first page there's an ink smudge that's barely visible, but enough to make her pull the book out further and lay it flat open.
Her name is written at the top with a question mark. There's no telling how long ago it was written but it couldn't have been too long since the marks are charmed to disappear after a while.
Her eyes go back to James. His head is still bent forward, but his sorting has almost stopped, and she can see his eyes pointing at the diary.
"Should I be apologising?" she questions suddenly. "Is… that what I'm supposed to be doing? What you're waiting for?" The diary closes again as Cressida sits down in a heavy slump on her chair. "Well I'm sorry. You're right, I should have told you. I just couldn't handle the idea of being the reason we lost after all the shit with Andrews."
"I'm sorry too." James braces himself on the table, much like he does in his own kitchen. Cressida can't help but note the way it makes her feel inside her stomach. "Not about the first part. You still should have told me. It's part of my job Cress, both as Captain and as a friend. I need to know that you're alright – you're safe and when you don't tell me something like this, I feel like utter crap because I didn't do anything to help." He stands back up, marching around the table until he stands next to her spot on the chair. James hoists himself onto the table, pulling one leg under the other. "But I'm sorry for… not talking to you. I didn't plan on storming out of the Hospital Wing but you made me feel… You said you did it because of what I said and that really hurt. I'm already feeling guilty and you put another load on top of that."
He lets out a short and bitter chuckle, fiddling with his own fingers in his lap.
"That's not what I meant to do," Cressida murmurs. Already feeling a strain in her neck from having to look up, she stands, using the chair as a lift and plants herself on the table next to him. "I can't say that I was lying, but I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty."
"I know you weren't." They glance at each other with soft eyes, both ready to forgive and forget. He leans forward first and Cressida closes her eyes as he kisses the top of her forehead, a hand circling around to the back of her head. She does everything at that moment to memorise the feeling; the closeness and the warmth of the touch.
"I need to get into the habit of checking that diary more."
James chuckles, leaning back to rest on his hands. "Please do. The whole reason for it is so I don't have to throw paper at you to communicate." Cressida smiles innocently, mimicking his position with her one arm.
Xx
Cressida sits on the edge of the white bed with an impatient smile as Madam Pomfrey examines her arm. It's been four days and it feels almost like new, except a few twinges of pain that are common to stay long after an injury.
Next to her, even more impatient is James who is sitting on the edge of the mattress as well, one leg stretched down and tapping against the floor.
Pomfrey places her arm back down, a stern but content glimmer on her face. "It should be fine," she declares. "You can return to training but no heavy lifting for another weak."
Cressida's impatient smile turns into a wide grin. "Oh that's too bad. Because I carry the entire team."
She hears James' quick scoff and is forced to lean back as James curves in front of her with a raised finger to an uncaring Matron. "Are you sure she's alright? I don't mind if she has to stay out for another few weeks."
Pomfrey only rolls her eyes, but a slither of amusement refuses to hide. Cressida only wraps her arms around his neck from behind in his self-made vulnerable position, muffling him with a hand over his mouth. He struggles under her hold but the way his body is half laying weakens him. "I haven't told him this," Cressida begins saying to the Matron, "but McGonagall offered me the position of Captain first. I only said no because I knew James wouldn't come out of his room for a week if I did."
Pomfrey finishes collecting her things, turning back around to them with a rare smile. "Maybe you should have then. Then I'd go a week without having to heal you from those schoolyard scuffles you seem to get into every other day." Her words finish in a quiet yell as she wanders away. Cressida grins, releasing James who snaps back up. "At least you don't lick like Sirius does," she notes.
"That's because I brain bigger than the size of a pea," he states matter-of-factly.
Xx
"Potter said you have a pea-brain."
James' natural upturned face snaps downwards. "Did not."
Sirius lazes on the Gryffindor lounge, doing nothing but watch the fire as Peter and Remus sit on the floor in front, playing checkers. Not nearly as entertaining as chess, but Peter enjoys learning muggle games. "Insulted, but not bothered to do much about it," Sirius piques. "What's the verdict? Training or watching from the stands."
"Please, like I'd be watching from the stands even if Pomfrey ordered me to," she drawls out, sauntering towards the lounge. Cressida eyes off the game below near her feet, watching Peter's hand hover over the board in contemplation. Leaning down, Cressida plucks a piece up. The soft clinks speak louder than words as the piece is manoeuvred from one end of the board to the other, taking quite a few of Remus' pieces with it. Peter's back straightens, a delighted grin befalling his features while Remus scowls silently at her.
"He'll never learn if you do it for him," he points out.
"Sometimes demonstration gives an opportunity to observe," she counters. "He'll see the opening next time." She just her chin out to Sirius, nudging him with her knee. "Oi, heads or tails?"
His nose scrunches up. "Uh, tails?"
Cressida nods, letting her bag slide from her shoulder and land with a heavy thud on the ground. Grabbing a pillow, she places it on the other end of the small lounge, lying her head on it and stretching her legs over Sirius'. She smiles with closed eyes, hearing his slight grunt and slight protest but decides that this also isn't worth the effort of retaliating. He must have had a long day, and an even longer detention since he got caught sending a hex at Snape that morning before class.
Through her eyelids against the firelight, a shadow moves directly in front of her. Cressida reluctantly opens them again, finding the material of a dark school jumper. James' head of hair appears as he sits on the ground, almost level with her head and leaning on the lounge with his legs stretched out to watch the rather boring game between Remus and Peter.
Whether to just check on her or from feeling her eyes, James glances over his shoulder and they lock gazes. He smiles first; a gentle one that is reserved for small moments like this. The same one he gave her when they skated in the middle of the night. Cressida smiles back, though hers is smaller but just as meaningful. Unable to be so close without touching him, she extends her arm out, winding it around the front of his chest and then curving it back up until her fingers curl around the shoulder of his jumper to stay in place.
James widens his smile for a brief moment before turning his head back straight. It takes another few minutes until she feels his hand on her upper arm, gently holding it.