Chapter 18: Handsome Douchebag

The sound of quills scratching on parchment can become a rather obnoxious noise. Especially when it's all one hears for an hour other than the sound of bookcases rubbing and the indistinguishable chatter of other students in the library aisles.

"Where's Sirius and Peter?"

Cressida pauses her own quill's movements, glancing up to James on her left and shrugs.

"How am I supposed to know. Sirius never tells me anything and Peter just tags along," she mumbles, letting her attention sink back into their potions homework. Cressida, James and Remus are seated at the end of a long study desk with James seated on the very end between Remus and Cressida who sit opposite each other. "They just…poof." Her hands make a small explosion motion. "Appear and disappear."

Remus stares at her in his hunched over position. "Poof?" he drawls.

Cressida nods, miming the motion once more. "Poof." Her head turns back to James, the top of her quill brushing over her lip. "Besides, you should be studying, not worrying about where those two troublemakers are."

James huffs indignantly but follows her advice and leans back over his work, resting his head in his palm. Remus on the other hand, forgets his work and leans back against his chair with a quizzical squint. "You and Sirius," he says, pointing the tip of his quill at her. "You know, I think I always saw it."

Cressida blinks, a surprised smile donning her cheeks. "Really?" she wonders. It amuses her more than anything. "Why's that?"

Remus shakes his head slowly. "I don't know. You're both just very-" he drops his quill then seems to cup the air with both his hands, leaving space between them as his lips press together to try and form a word, "big." Cressida stares at him, attempting to comprehend what her friend's understanding of 'big' is. Remus slowly reframes his words. "Big… personalities."

Gradually, her lips turn upwards. "Okay," she acknowledges. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it." Cressida subtly glances towards James, trying to see if there's any sort of emotion on his face towards their conversation but there's nothing but focus on the words in front of him.

"And you two kissed but didn't tell us," Remus adds with a mocking look of disgust. "Have you kissed more than once?"

Cressida blinks in thought. "I mean, only the once really. We're not really… we don't want to make this go any farther."

"Why not? You both have feelings for each other."

Cressida glances towards James again but still, there is nothing but hard and straight eyes pointed towards the desk. "We like being friends. That's not something we want to ruin. Besides, feelings die over time when they're not fed, so we're not feeding them."

Remus nods slowly in contemplation then leans forward with urgency. "Have you ever had a crush on me?" he hisses. Cressida laughs in a manner very unsuited to the quiet library. "What about Peter or James?"

Her laughter simmers down a little, licking her lips and resting her chin against folded hands. "Actually I did have a small crush on you in third year," Cressida admits, blushing in reminiscence. "It was really pathetic. What about you? Any secret crushes that I'm unaware of?"

"Peter had one on you in first year," James answers flatly. Cressida raises her brows in surprise – surprise that he was even listening into the conversation. He doesn't even look up from his work, nor meet their eyes. "You were the only girl paying attention to him though so that probably had something to do with it."

Cressida rolls her jaw to the side. "Thanks," she mutters. It's always a pleasure to know a guy only liked you because they saw no other option. "I feel sorry for any girl ever attracted to you."

James peers upwards for the first time with narrowed eyes. "Why's that?"

"Because you're an absolute douchebag," Cressida snaps. "There's no wonder why Lily says no." Truthfully, she doesn't think James would take much offence to her words. They've said worse – albeit in a more playful manner – and it isn't as though they're not anything that hasn't been said to him before. Yet there is an unmistakable flash of hurt inside of his hazel eyes which quickly divert away.

"I'm finished," he mutters, packing away his things. Cressida's lips peel open, an apology trying to form but her throat struggles to form the sounds needed and before she knows it, James is out of sight.

With an agape mouth, Cressida looks at Remus with wide eyes. "Should I-"

"I'll go," Remus interjects. "He said something about feeling sick this morning. I'll take him to Pomfrey." She doesn't believe him and it's evident that he knows that at his eyes' aversion. He packs up his own belongings hastily. "You're still on for tonight?"

The map-making. She nods. Remus gives her a tight smile as he scampers out after James. Once she is left truly alone, Cressida groans loudly, letting her head lump forward and slam against the table.

Even by the time night rolls around and their books are spread across the floor between pillows and blankets, James stills avoids her. What's worse is that he doesn't even act affected by her words, gallivanting around like he usually does. But as soon as it comes to her, it's like his eyes glaze over and she may as well not exist.

Cressida settles down between Remus and Peter, curling up against the latter's headboard with a heavy book in her lap. Both fresh and old pieces of parchment are scattered around the floor. Some have ink markings – some with static footsteps or the outlines of buildings. Others have nothing.

Why did her words have so much of an effect on James? Rightfully they weren't the kindest, but even Marlene has called him worst and all he did was laugh and shrug it off. Sirius will call him a brainless bastard and James will simply tell him to get lost and it is forgotten. And Lily Evans calls him an arrogant toe-rag every damn day of the year yet he still pines over her.

And Cressida calls him a douchebag and it's like calling him the pure-blood equivalent of a mud-blood. Maybe it wasn't even her word choice. Maybe James has been looking for a reason to not talk to her. Has she done something?

Of course she's done something.

And that something is not be Lily Evans.

"…essida? Cress? Cress?!" Cressida blinks lazily back into the present reality. Sirius is holding a book towards her with a tracking spell on the page. "What do you think?"

Shrugging, she mutters, "I don't know. Try it."

Sirius huffs, bringing the book back into his lap and pulling out his wand. "Fat lot of help you are." Cressida only hums in mild agreement, eyes dropping back to her own book. Lily would be more help. Studious and academically inclined; perfect for creating a map filled with advanced enchantments. Cressida only memorises charms and perfects them. She doesn't actually know much else.

After another excruciating hour or rereading the same page over and over again, still not understanding a single thing written, Cressida finally closes her book. "I'm sorry. I'm really not getting anywhere tonight. I think I'm just going to head to bed."

To her surprise, there's a rise of agreement throughout the room. "Me too," Remus sighs, closing his own book. "I'm not tired but my brain is fried from all the homework we had to do."

Peter nods sluggishly. "I third that."

"Fourth."

"Fifth," James murmurs.

Sirius glances around the room, an idea brewing behind his dark eyes. He's hesitant to bring whatever it is up, fiddling around with his wand and staring at his lap once he does finally suggest it. "Do you guys wanna sneak out to the astronomy tower for a while?"

Cressida instantly nods with a bright smile. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Maybe you can teach me some of the constellations. I don't remember anything from third year." Being tired was a lie. She just needed an excuse to stop.

Sirius gaze lifts. He nods softly. He remembers and she remembers.

"Got nothing better to do," James agrees, already brushing off and wandering around to find his Invisibility Cloak. Everybody follows suit. "Oi, Pete. We're not all going to fit under the Cloak.

Peter promptly shrinks, his ears growing large and his fingers smaller until he sits on the floor in the form of a rat. Remus picks him up and places him on his shoulder. "I'll do the same," Sirius says. "I can meet you guys up there."

James nods. The Cloak isn't designed to even cloak more than one person, so even the three remaining humans are a risk. Especially with the boys' tall figures. And a dog with black fur would be harder to see in the night if he moves swiftly enough.

Sirius transforms into a dog and Remus lets him out of the dorm room. He trots out of it with a wagging tail.

James, Remus and Cressida tiptoe down to the Common Room where Sirius is still waiting for them. "We'll need to sneak him out the door," Cressida says to her companions. "The Fat Lady's a snitch." Striding over towards Sirius, she bends down with the intention to pick him up, but the dog quickly transforms back into a boy.

"Nope," he swallows, grabbing the Cloak from James' arms. "Cress will bring it back." He cloaks the pair of them before she can even formulate a response. They sneak out through the portrait door, barely arousing the painted lady and quickly manoeuvre out of sight. "Meet you there," Sirius mumbles, transfiguring back into a dog and darts out of the Cloaks and into the vast darkness of the seventh floor. Cressida makes haste back into the tower and Remus and James are enveloped in the material.

The trip upwards is hard but no long, already being so high in the castle. It's Filch and his damned cat that's unpredictable. "Ironically, this would be easier if the map was working," Remus says as they come to the base of the astronomy tower. "Yet we're actively avoiding it."

"We're not avoiding it," James counters. "We're…taking a break is all."

They take the Cloak off as soon as they reach the winding staircase and there's no sign of Filch, his cat or the Prefects. Cressida marches up the stairs first, the two boys floundering up behind her.

Her expression is flat until they reach the very top which has a perfect view of the night sky which is littered with thousands of stars, and one man already looking at them. "Which one is Sirius?" she questions giddily, standing close to his side.

Sirius laughs gently, licking his dry lips. "You can't see it anymore. It's visible during Summer." His hands lay on her shoulders from behind, guiding them almost in a circle. James, Remus and now Peter are also looking up at the sky, but with little concentration. Sirius' arm extends out past her, his finger guiding her eyes to a single point in the sky. "That's Aquarius. That constellation there."

Cressida tilts her head. "The one that looks like a crooked 'e'?"

"Yeah," Sirius chuckles, "that's it. And over there…"

Cressida had an idea that he knew a fair bit about the constellations, considering most of his family are named from them, but she really doesn't expect him to be so knowledgeable about them beyond their names. He spits out facts and trivia about all of them and she can't help but be drawn into his voice, despite her complete previous disinterest in learning about small balls of gas.

Somehow though, he eventually runs out of things to say and he just lays on the floor with his fingers laced behind his head and watches them. Remus and Peter have taken off to the side of the tower, falling into some sort of debate about the importance of astrology for centaurs whilst James sits on the very edge of the north-facing side with his legs hanging over. Cressida watches him from afar, only able to see his back and the points of his elbows.

She can't bear the thought that he's upset because of something she said. It doesn't matter what he had said – she would've forgotten it within a day. Leaving Sirius' side, quietly, and admittedly tentatively, Cressida finds her way to James. He doesn't acknowledge her presence when she sits down, mimicking his position with her legs hanging over the side. Instead, he looks at his wand which he fiddles around in both hands.

"I lied you know," Cressida says. James glances at her but doesn't respond. "You're not a douchebag, you're an arrogant prick."

He makes a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Is that supposed to be any different?"

"Yes," Cressida replies in all seriousness. "You see-" she draws her legs back under her, half-turning towards him and loops her arms around his neck, "-douchebag is an absolute. Douchebags are douchebags, nothing else. Arrogant and prick are just two of many things someone can be. You can't be a funny douchebag, but you can be a funny prick. You can be a… funny, handsome, troublemaking arrogant prick. But you can't be those things and a douchebag."

"I think you've beaten Sirius' record for saying the most nonsensical thing to ever have been said," James declares, though his tone is light and mirthful. "Yet somehow I understood it."

"It's just unspoken logic," she laughs airily. "And you know what, I think we can even take prick away. I actually quite like you."

James gives a short laugh that resonates from his chest and nose. "So that just leaves me with arrogant?"

"It leaves you with plenty of other things that I can't be bothered to list," she corrects with a tilted grin. "But you can add funny if you'd like. You do make me laugh more often than not. However unintentional."

"I'll take it," James responds quickly, and the pair lapse into soft chuckles. Cressida lets her arms fall away from his neck, instead turning back towards the scenery and resting them over the railings. Out of nowhere, he chuckles again. "I remember around this time last year, we were sitting exactly here as well. And you knocked my wand off the tower."

Cressida grins, cocking her head to the side. "And then you knocked mine down as well even though I was going to accio yours back up."

James presses his lips tightly together, failing to suppress a smile. "My bad."

Raising her brow, she knocks her knuckles against his right forearm. "Do you trust me now?" James pinches his brows in question. Twisting her hand, her fingers smooth over his denim jacket that covers his school shirt and trail down towards his wrist. Reaching the base of his wand, she nudges it from his palm and into her own, facing no resistance. Not even as she takes it entirely from his grip. "You do," she concludes.

In the softest whisper, he retorts, "I never haven't."

A faint blush spreads from her cheeks but the low light hides it well. She twirls the wand between her fingers as Sirius often does, having picked up the habit from him. Cressida contently keeps to her thoughts in the pleasant company, only pulling herself from them as James looks intently over his shoulder between them. "Whatcha looking at?" she questions with a cheeky smile. James' head darts back with parted lips that quickly mimic her own.

"Nothing."

Humming, she looks over her own shoulder. Sirius is still laying in the middle of the tower, seemingly asleep whilst Peter and Remus' debate has softened out into indistinguishable murmurs. Unable to pinpoint what he was looking at, or for, she turns back straight with a long sigh.

In the process of losing concentration, the wand slips from her fingers. Her feet snap into action and press together, miraculously catching the wand between them. Cressida rounds her lips, letting out a loud cackle of disbelief as James mutters to himself about once again almost losing his wand. Bending her knees, she reaches down and plucks the wand back up. "Here," she offers the wand back bashfully.

He takes it with a smirk, tucking it in his wand pocket. "You warm enough?" Cressida nods, but as though to spite her, a shiver runs down her spine. James huffs humorously, already shrugging off his jacket.

"Really, I'm fine-"

"Let me."

She holds her tongue, the warmth of the fleece-lined denim more comforting in its scent and familiarity than its warmth. Keeping her hands tucked into the sleeves, Cressida leans forward, resting her arms and then her chin on the bars in front of her. James mimics her position but rests on his cheek instead so he's facing her. Cressida raises a taunting brow, moving to match. His glasses are askew slightly and his hair falling the opposite way to its natural path.

"You're very handsome," she muses aloud. "I think you know that but I don't think I've ever told you."

She can't read his initial reaction. Maybe surprise. His brows twitch and slowly, but steadily, a true smile forms. "Thank you." Cressida smiles wider, turning to look forward once again. "You're very beautiful, you know. I don't think you know that."

Heat pools in her cheeks.

"Thank you."

Thank you:

Anniestark (as always hehe)

sarah0406

KelseyBl - and you're pretty much spot on ;)

and Pettson!

You guys help make my days. Any new readers - this has daily updates and a promise to continue for at least another fifty chapters so please turn on notifications if you're enjoying it thus far and I hope to see you around!