Chapter 30: On Pain's Doorstep

Something clicks back into place with James. Sirius had done what he said he would and fixed whatever misunderstanding that they were having. Cressida doesn't bring it up in hopes of finding out, simply because she's terrified that knowing might drag them back to where they were before.

Currently, she's bent low, eyes squinting and peering at every single chess piece on the board. Her black pieces are running low, lined up on James' side of the table awaiting for one of her pawns to bring them back.

Opposite her, is the said boy. He's sitting quite the reverse of his opponent, leaning back against his chair with his legs stretched long underneath the table. She knows this because she can feel them knocking against her own. "Any day now," he taunts. He taps fingers on both hands onto the wooden table, making her eye twitch.

Her own hands slam down (gently) on top of his to force them to stay still. There's no move she can make and the bastard in front of her knows it. Submitting to her fate, she moves her castle to the only potential spot he might miss.

James grins. "Queen to E5." Cressida lets out an unfeminine groan, slumping back in her chair and swipes her arm across the board. The pieces, both black and white, fly off to the side. "You're a horrible loser."

"And you're a horrible winner." With a flick of her wand, the pieces sort themselves back onto the board. They look terribly unhappy about being flung.

"How is that even a thing?"

"You don't have to smirk every time you win," she grumbles. Turning her frown upside down, she adds in a much lighter tone, "It's fine though. I know I can beat both Remus and Sirius and that's all I need."

James laughs airily, packing the board away. "Glad to hear it. Do you want to head to the library with me? I have to pick up a book for Remus."

Cressida nods instantly. Remus has been in bed all day. The full moon is tonight. Fortunately it's a Friday and they'd all have tomorrow off to recover. Sirius and Peter elected to keep Remus company for the afternoon, though both James and Cressida hadn't felt tired enough to nap and knew their chatting would only agitate the others.

"Do you still want to be an Auror after Hogwarts?" she asks out of the blue. The corridor they wander through towards the library is vacant and almost hollow feeling.

James' mouth opens and closes in thought. "Ah, yeah." He smiles from the corner of his mouth. "Why?"

Cressida shrugs slightly, biting her lip from the inside. "It's a dangerous job. And I know you'll be amazing at it, but I can't help but worry."

"Flattered," he breathes out with a small laugh. He knocks his elbow against hers. "What about you? You never really told us what you were thinking about doing."

"Haven't put a lot of thought into it really," she admits. "But I was thinking about being a Curse-Breaker. McGonagall suggested it actually."

"Curse-Breaker," he repeats slowly. "That's a lot of travelling." Cressida nods with a small smile. It would be. "That's not a lot of time to see me."

Her eyes close over in a silent chuckle, shaking her head. She lifts it back up, unable to hide her grin at the boy next to her who is patiently awaiting her response with an expecting expression. "I will always have time for you, James." She adds with a mirthful tone, "Perhaps not Sirius if he stays in the habit of ending arguments by barking at me." James lapses into melodic laughter, his eyes filled with amusement and brightness. Cressida loves seeing his smile. James continues walking onwards, but she grasps his arm to make him stop. The smile doesn't leave, but morphs to show his questioning. "An Auror. That's a lot of travelling," she counters softly. "Not a lot of time to see me."

James steps closer, breathing deeply. "I will always have time for you, Cress." Her eyes roll at the repetition of her own words, but her heart yearns to hear them all the same.

The words spill from her lips. "I love you, James." Like a fool, I fell in love with you. How ironic that she had sung those exact lyrics to him just over a year ago.

James' eyes flicker downwards, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he looks back up at her. Ever so slowly his arms curl around her waist, stretching upwards to span across her entire back and her chest presses against his.

Broomstick oil and something sweet like Butterbeer.

"Love you too."

The corner of her eyes wrinkle as they shut tightly together, encircling her arms right back around him. She doesn't need to hear him say it back, she just needs to know that he's going to be there for when she does say it.

He starts to pull back first so Cressida loosens his arms but he stops, arms still around her, and her hands still hooked over his neck. And he just stares at her. It takes her a moment of staring right back at him to catch on. They haven't done it in so long. With a small smirk, her head lops to the side. "What?"

His teeth bite into his lower lip but the muscles of his cheeks pull the skin away. With the same mocking tone, he answers, "Nothing."

"You know," whispers Cressida, "one of these days, you're going to have to tell me what you're thinking about. I know you're a boy, but there's got to be something in that head of yours at least once a day."

James doesn't bother hiding the grin anymore, looking off to the side. Cressida admires him. His smile, the way his eyes always match whatever he's thinking about. The way he cares about his friends. "Ask me again then." He stares at her.

Her brows raise. Ask him again, she commands herself. "What?"

His chest rises long and steady, lips parting as though he's about to spill every secret he's ever told.

"Nothing."

Cressida's hands form fists, thumping his shoulders as he laughs at her betrayed expression. "We could have had a moment," she whines as James throws his head back, laughter filling them empty hall. With an elongated groan, her head drops forward, pressing against his sternum. "You are so annoying. I don't even know why I'm friends with you."

"Because you love me," he crows. "And I'm the best Quidditch player in Hogwarts. Amazing personality. Best dressed. Best hair. There's a long list."

"Yet I was your friend before any of that even showed," she points out, lifting her head again. "We should go get that book Remus wants."

"We should," James agrees, sighing on the 'should'. They pull apart at the same time, falling back into a walk towards the library. Cressida is utterly content with their day so far, hardly having spent any time apart from him.

Which gives the world a perfect opportunity to ruin it.

Mulciber is the first to round the corner, his shadow taking up half the sandy-grey wall from the firelight. Three more shadows follow. Rosier. Snape. Avery.

The smile that would have been hard to waver before on Cressida's face drops quicker than a brick in the Black Lake. Her hand immediately reaches for her waistband where her wand sits. From the corner of her eye, James does the exact same thing. But she can sense his panic rising and his hand travel towards his pant pocket. He doesn't have his wand.

One against four. She's got this.

Despite not having the one tool he needs, James stalks in front of her. Cressida watches just over his shoulder as the four Slytherin's leisurely jaunt slows down to a purposeful stride. "Afternoon gents," James asserts flatly. Arrogance and smoothness flow through not only his words but his stance. Cressida figures out his play: he doesn't want them to know he doesn't have his wand. Subtly, she hides her own behind her leg so she matches. "Coming from the library? Didn't know you could all read."

"The Mud-blood out for a walk with her dog," Mulicber drawls, glancing at his comrades to affirm himself of their approval. "Shouldn't you have a muzzle on him?"

"The dog is actually back in the Tower," she says in a tone of mocking. "And I don't like muzzles. I think if an animal feels threatened enough to bite; it should."

Mulciber looks amused more than anything. "Was that you trying to threaten us?" Rosier taunts from Mulciber's left. Cressida's eyes wander across their line of defence. Three of them have their wands out. Avery is the only one that doesn't. Snape is standing the furthest back, which means he's not confident. He knows spells, but duelling isn't his strong suit. Especially with such a history against James' natural flare.

"I believe she was insinuating that you were threatening us," James corrects. "It's up to you to decide whether I bite or not." The last sentence comes like a snarl from his mouth. Cressida pushes away the thought of him biting them as a stag – though it is something she would love to see. Her wand starts to move forward again.

"It's not like you to talk first," Avery observes. He doesn't have the same sadistic humour that the other two have (Snape still being silent). He's more…psychopathic. That's the only word she can use to describe him with the cold blank stare he holds. "Usually, the remarks come after the first spell." He's right. James would have usually made a move by now. "Why the hesitation today?"

Cressida can hear James swallow. The fingers of his right hand brush over the back of hers. He doesn't know what to do. This is the first time he's been wandless in an oncoming fight.

Neither of them have time to register what spell is cast towards them from Mulciber. "Protego!" she gasps, striking her wand upwards and leaping forward to cover both herself and James. Red sparks ricochet off her protective barrier. Mulciber grins at Avery's correct deduction. Cressida doesn't lower her wand a single inch, her non-wand arm stretching backwards to make sure that James stays in a space she can defend. "Stupefy!"

Her spell hits the still unarmed Avery whose confidence made him distracted. She's not so prideful to not attack him simply because he doesn't have a wand. Just like they will attack James.

Another spell comes from Rosier this time but she manages another shield just in time. More and more come, sending Cressida on the defensive, only managing a few offensive shots. She has to wait them out until someone else comes along. Preferably a teacher.

In one of the small gaps of the ever-coming spells, Cressida casts, "Impedimenta!" The spell collides with Snape's chest, sending him flying backwards and rolling along the stone ground.

Her success isn't taken lightly by Rosier.

"Crucio."

There's no time to step out of the way. No time to wonder if protego would work. No time to prepare herself for the pain that they had only read about in their textbooks.

Instantly her knees crumble under the pain. A gargle erupts from her throat that is meant to be a scream but doesn't quite make it. Hot burning pain erupts from the base of her skull, and like a white-hot liquid, travels down her entire spine and into her feet. Her eyes are screwed shut, teeth bared to the world and the screams begin to form as the world around her disappears.

Someone is yanking on her hand; the only sign that she still even exists in Hogwarts and not some eternal hell.

"Expelliarmus!"

The fresh pain stops, but the effects still linger. Cressida opens her eyes, breathing hard and uneven. The world is on its side, or rather, she is. The cold stone is a nice welcome to cool the lingering burning sensation. Everything sounds muffled.

More and more sparks blur through the air. And more and more of them moving towards the Slytherins than towards James. The sounds become clearer. Cressida pushes against the ground, registering how James now has her wand and is single-handedly attacking – not defending, attacking – four Slytherins.

"You're a fucking idiot Rosier," Mulciber growls. The leader backs away, now completely defensive. Snape is the first to follow him back around the corner, soon followed by Avery and a reluctant Rosier.

James waits for their shadows to disappear. Cressida rests her head in her hands, elbows digging into the sides of her thighs. "Cress? Cressida?" James falls to his knees in front of her, guiding her head out of her hands.

"I'm fine," she croaks, blinking hard. "I'm fine."

James' jaw clenches. "No, you're not," he whispers stiffly. His adam's apple bobs up and down. The hands on her face are a delicate contrast to the ones that felt like they were ripping off her skin. "That was – I can't… I can't believe they did that. On school grounds."

Cressida sighs, eyes half-closed. "I can." She barely hears her own voice.

"I need to get you to the hospital wing," James declares, already shifting to move her on his own accord.

She shakes her head, gripping his forearm. "No. Please, no. I…I want to be somewhere familiar," she says. She wants to be somewhere safe. "Can we just go back to your room?"

"Cress I can't," James breathes out, letting her hold his arm but manoeuvring his hand to caress the side of her jaw. "I need to make sure you're alright."

"The curse doesn't cause physical damage," she counters.

"That's not the alright I'm talking about," he counters back just as quickly. Cressida doesn't waver her grip, still shaking her head.

"I want to be out of this hallway and in some place I know they can't go," she restates, subtly confessing her fear in hopes that he will understand.

This time James shakes his head. "They're not going to be anywhere near you. I'm going straight to Dumbledore."

"And what?" she mumbles. "Best outcome is, is that he gets expelled and potentially in Azkaban. Great, now Mulciber and the rest of Slytherin is going to be pissed and that puts a larger target on our back. Worst scenario is, Dumbledore can't do anything because it's our word against theirs. No witnesses. They get pissed but cocky and that still puts a target on our back."

James' jaw is slack, staring at her with wide eyes. "So you want me to do nothing?"

"Mulciber was scared," she continues. "Rosier was out of line. And what do we do when Sirius is like that? We take a step back and wait for everything to calm down before we do anything stupid again. Doing nothing is ironically giving us an advantage."

James' jaw stretches in every direction. Anger flares all over his face, but he never lets it travel into his hand where his thumb strokes her cheek. In one last fleeting attempt, the anger softens into something softer. Something more caring. "They used an unforgivable curse on you."

"For like ten seconds," she smiles tiredly. "But you stole my wand and the show, upping my performance. Really that was quite rude of you."

She can see her argument finally breaks through to him. "I'll make a note to remember that for next time," he laughs meekly. "Your wand likes me by the way." Cressida takes it from his other hand with a glare, shoving it back into her wand pocket. "Look, I won't do anything you don't want me to, but I can't promise anything with the others."

Sluggishly, the pair make their way back to the Tower without Remus' book. A small sacrifice, James had said when she brought it up. One that he's sure Remus will understand. His hands don't leave her the entire way and she doesn't contend that for many reasons. Despite her small jokes, her mind is still haunted by the pain that now seems unfathomable.

James leans forward, opening the dormitory door ahead of her. Sirius us juggling three pairs of folded socks. Remus and Peter lounge on their beds, watching him with amusement that surely isn't coming directly from the juggling itself.

Cressida manages a small smile at the sight, but her eyes linger on the bed she so desperately wants to curl upon. "'Ello Prongs," Sirius grins, eyes barely flickering away from the socks. "And Bear – Cress?" The socks fall to the ground. "You look pale."

A noise of agreement passes her lips. Sirius strides forward, probably to inspect her closer, but James holds out his hand. "Just give her some space." Sirius hesitates, hands opening as though to reveal he has nothing within them.

"What happened?" an already exhausted Remus questions.

James' grip tightens and loosens back up again as he guides her towards his mattress. Sirius hasn't moved from his spot, watching the scene intently. "We ran into some Slytherins," Cressida recounts flatly.

"They used the cruciatus curse," James finishes, not having the same hesitation as her to speak on it. "On Cress."

"Are you being serious?" Peter gapes from the furthest bed. The entire room is almost silent.

James' glare is grave-worthy. "Why the fuck would I joke about that Wormtail?" Cressida flops down onto his bed, pulling the pillow into her lap. Peter cowers.

"Who was it?" Sirius demands. His voice is unusually level for something like this. After just a second of no answer, he asks again. "James. Who was it?"

James isn't looking at Sirius, he's looking at her. She doesn't want to answer them. She can't be bothered. "Rosier," he answers, still not looking away, crouching beside his own bed.

"Have you gone to Dumbledore?" Remus questions loudly. Cressida glances to Sirius, expecting him to be cussing. But he's just standing there, staring at the floor at the base of James' bed.

James finally looks away. "No," he sighs. "I'll explain everything later. After… tonight when we're all feeling a bit more ourselves."

Sirius' eyes lift from the floor. "Who else was there?"

"Rosier. Mulciber. Avery. Snape," Cressida recalls. She could never forget the names.

Sirius' tongue runs over his lips, eyes darting towards the door. She can see the thoughts running through his head. The pure hatred Cressida feels too. "I-" He cuts himself off. His eyes are darker than usual. Within three strides, his hand is extending to the door handle.

James leaps from his crouch, blocking his friend's exit. "Sirius, no. Don't be fucking stupid about this."

Sirius tries to break through the physical barrier that James' body creates, his hand yanking at the handle, but the door only rams into James' shoulder. "You're not just letting them get away-"

"I'm not," James spits. "Trust me, I feel exactly the same way. But creating a bigger fight tonight isn't something we can do. Not with Remus needing our help and Cressida isn't exactly in the best spot right now either."

Sirius breathes unsteadily, but something ticks in his brain. "I'm not going to fight them then." His hand doesn't leave the handle.

James eyes it off. "Then give me your wand."

Begrudgingly, Sirius digs into his pocket and hands the square-cut wood over to his best mate. "There. Now let me out." James doesn't move immediately and she doesn't blame him. What is Sirius doing if not going to fight? James steps to the side and without another word, Sirius pulls the door open. The slamming of it behind him echoes through the dorm.

James watches the closed door for a few moments but Cressida submits to the fact that none of them can truly control the Black boy any more than they could a wild bull. James retreats to his bed, sitting behind her and pulls the pillow from her lap. He places it against the headboard and leans against it, hands tugging her back as well.

Remus and Peter share silent glances, speaking many words, but none of them sounding. "Sleep," James says into her ear. "We have a few more hours till sunset. You don't have to come tonight if you don't want to."

Cressida hums softly. "I like being a bear," she notes. Her head lays against his chest, watching his legs try and kick up the throw blanket towards them. Once it reaches high enough, she saves him the effort and pulls it over them both.

"You were badass today," he says, loud enough for the entire dorm to hear. "One against four."

"One against three," she corrects. "Avery didn't fight much."

"Still." His neck stretches downwards, lips brushing against her ear. "I'm proud of you." Cressida smiles, wilfully closing her eyes so she could get enough sleep to last the entire night keeping a werewolf company.

P.S I love you guys 3