Chapter 38: To be a Threat

Cressida needs to move on. Simple as that. Though one could argue that the task is anything but simplicity, she can't spend the rest of her life pining over a boy who won't look her way. Convincing herself is easy, convincing Sirius, on the other hand… not so easy.

But maybe it's her incessant badgering of the topic that wears him down over the next week that he finally sighs and says, "So you don't have any feelings for him anymore?"

Cressida confidently shakes her head. "No," she agrees. "It wasn't even love. It was a stupid crush that got out of control. A-a…And I'm glad. It makes everything so much easier." Ok, maybe convincing Sirius is easier than convincing herself. "I'm going to talk to Lily about going out with him again, and then they'll get married and you'll be the best man and I'll be your date."

"What if I want to bring my own date?"

"You're the one who made the deal. We need dates, we bring each other."

"That was before you knew I was gay."

"Well can you please hold off from telling the rest of the world until James gets married so I don't have to figure out who I'd bring as a date?"

Their bantering simmers as the pair join the rest of the Hogwarts' students in a busy corridor as they all rush to their next class. Well, the younger students are rushing and the older ones sort of meander. Cressida rises to her toes, waving her arm in the air as Remus' tall figure peeks over a group of Ravenclaws.

"Remus!" she grins with a kiddish smile. "You're going a date with me."

His face morphs into entertained surprise. "I am, am I? Where are we going?"

"Where are who going?"

Another two join them in the middle of the corridor, their lack of black robes contrasting a sea of black and grey. James and Peter had come up from Herbology from an adjacent hallway. "Remus and Cressida," Sirius drawls as though he's a parent tired of her antics. "On their date."

James and Peter both stare at the three of them, trying to piece together the previous conversation. "On your date?" Peter repeats.

"To Prongs' wedding."

"Since Sirius is abandoning me," Cressida sighs. "And breaking his promise."

"Do you expect me to just never go on dates ever then?" he hisses at her.

Cressida holds her books close to her chest and with a righteous tone, responds, "No, of course not. That would be ridiculous. You may go on dates, but we agreed that if there's an event where a date is assumed, that we would take each other. You're my plus one!"

"Now Remus is!"

"I never technically agreed."

"When am I getting married?"

Cressida is lost to the argument in front of her. Her face has fallen into something fiercer and more calculative, watching one particular face that caught her eyes through the crowd. The black eyes of Snape haven't noticed her yet, pointing instead to somewhere, or in truth, at someone just a few inches to her left. Cressida doesn't need to guess who he's staring at. Not with the pure disgust and loathing seeping through every pore of his sickly pale skin.

Then his eyes snap just those few degrees to meet hers. Her glare must be fierce as the quiet Slytherin boy blinks hastily, his shoulders jolting. Then as quickly as he found her gaze, he pulls it away and disappears back into the students.

Boiling hatred spews over the capacity of her mind, eradicating all thoughts of sense. How dare he look at him like that? How dare that filthy, slimy git-

"Oomph."

A heavy force barges into her shoulder from the side. Cressida trips over her feet, palms smacking into the stone pavement and her books sprawling around her friend's feet.

"Oi! Watch yourself!" James growls at the passer-by who doesn't even stop to apologise. "Dickhead," he adds in a mumble. Cressida quickly closes her fists, searching for the body. There's a flash of familiar dark hair that confirms her suspicions as a piece of crumpled paper was pushed into her hands. Remus and James crouch down, their hands already helping her back up whilst Peter collects her books. Sirius on the other hand is too busy glaring at the back of his brother's head.

"You alright?" he questions her though as soon as she stands.

Cressida nods, subtly putting the piece of paper in her bag and brushing her skirt off. "Yeah. Just scraped my hand." She thanks Peter who hands her, her books and then sends grateful glances to the two other boys. "What were we talking about?"

Remus grins at her. So innocent and sweet. "Chocolate."

Her mouth parts in wonder of how they got to such a topic in the short time she was absent. Shaking her head, she laughs away the thought. "We better go, or McGonagall will have our heads."

Xx

It is safe to say, that their heads still remain attached to their necks by that afternoon. It is, however, still a question on whether Snape will still have his by the time he gets back to his Common Room in the dungeons.

Cressida knows that right now he would be in Potion's club that ends just an hour before dinner is served. Lily is a part of it too. She could catch him on the way back, but she'd had to be quick. She couldn't focus on anything else today. Not the advanced spell McGonagall introduced them to, not the note in her bag that she glanced over. Not James' wand tracing odd shapes over her back as she leans against the bedpost on the far end of his bed. Her fingers twist around the silver bracelet on her wrist.

"Do you reckon it's some type of girly thing?"

Cressida finally snaps back into reality but doesn't move.

"You'd think she'd do it more often then, wouldn't you?"

"What is she staring at?"

Cressida turns her even eyes over to Sirius. "Your dirty socks," she mutters. "You left them on your trunk."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "The House-elves will get them."

Rolling her eyes, Cressida mumbles under her breath, "Privileged bastard." She cannot exactly content his argument, as the elves do in fact collect their laundry with a snap of their fingers. "I'll see you guys at dinner, I have some stuff to do."

"Stuff?" James repeats.

Sirius shrivels his nose, narrowing one eye at her. "Yeah, what stuff."

"Stuff that doesn't involve any of you," she counters with a witty tone and smirk to match. "Shockingly, I manage to have a life that doesn't revolve around any of you." What a lie. Today, she's really planning on just letting herself act without thinking. It's about damn time.

"Hey!" Cressida pauses just at the threshold of the door, half-turning back. James has moved to the edge of his mattress. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the pitch tomorrow afternoon. Just you and me. We can… do some training or just muck around for a while."

"Oh, um." Cressida rests her weight entirely on the one foot. "I would honestly have loved to, but I promised Lily and Mary that I would help them with Charms study. Another time?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure."

Cressida smiles at him one last time, closes the door, then drops it completely. Her fingers twirl her wand between them by the side of her leg as she stalks down the staircase, eyes set on the portrait entrance. It's not the first time she's done something like she's about to, and it certainly won't be the last, but it is going to be one of the most important.

Her pace and face never waver once as she makes her way down to the dungeons. The cold, dark halls are empty except for a few lingering students that aren't staying around anyways. And it seems her timing is immaculate, as a small group of students from various years leave a classroom. Lily's red hair is a beacon among them, but for once, it is not the hair that catches her attention. It is the shoulder length of slick black hair that does.

Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the few Gryffindor students quickly divert from the group of five Slytherins. Regulus is among them – something she hadn't thought to anticipate. Not that she cares if he's there.

Nobody takes notice of her, or maybe they do but her eyes don't leave the pack of Slytherins enough to notice. Cressida trails after them, knowing her opportunity is short with how close their Common Room is.

She sticks close to the walls, following them around two corridors before she slithers into an alcove where a statue of a knight is place. Muttering a quick accio, Snape's potion book flies from his arms. She ends the spell before it traces back to her, watching as Snape's head snaps around. The group of Slytherins that he was with barely even glance over their shoulders as Snape cautiously walks towards his textbook, eyes still scanning the corridors. Cressida moves from her hiding spot just as he turns around, the corridor now completely empty except for the two of them.

Speed takes over secrecy. Her strides are long and powerful, wand no longer twirling about but held firmly in her grasp. Snape only manages five paces towards the corner before he hears her coming. His black eyes are wide and already fearful, looking behind her to see whether the rest of her group is on her back.

Cressida's fist forms around his school cloak and in one large heave, pushes his back up against the nearest stone wall, keeping her forearm pressed over his chest. She hears his shocked gasp but with her wand tip pointed at his jugular, any scream or call for help is silenced.

His fear morphs into something of anger and uncertainty.

"You don't ever look at him again." She may as well have been spitting the words. "Don't you ever dare look at Remus like he's a monster. The only monsters running around this castle are you and your Death Eater buddies."

His throat bobs, almost testing how hard she's pressing her wand against it. He opens his mouth to speak but Cressida uses her arm and body weight to re-press him against the wall.

"If I ever catch you - if Remus ever mentions you even looking at him funny; you won't have that oversized nose of yours to go snooping with ever again."

Cressida knows how she sounds. She sounds dangerous – and it's thrilling. To be so intimidating to spark that fear in his eyes. It means he takes her threat seriously.

Snape's mouth shrivels up. "He almost killed me," he growls, testing her hold but moving his shoulders about.

"James told you to run," she counters in a quieter, but still firm tone. "It doesn't matter why you think he told you to, you should have done it. It would've been your own fault."

"What about Black?" Cressida narrows her eyes into slithers. Snape sees his opportunity. "You don't think he's a monster? He led me there."

She changes her approach. Her arm slips from his chest and he sinks back down to the ground by half an inch, straightening off his clothes. Her wand lowers slowly, resting by her leg. "Let me reiterate my promise. You look at Remus, you talk about Sirius, you antagonise James, you threaten me or Peter – I will make it my life's mission to make your life as miserable as possible."

Snape glares at her, seething from the top of his hair to his gangly toes. "Don't threaten me, you Mud-blood-"

"Or what? What's your threat?" Her lips curl upwards. "You don't see my friends with me, do you? You know why? Because you're not threatening enough." Despite their already close proximity, Cressida takes another step forward, swaying slightly. "You. Don't. Scare. Me." Snape doesn't move. He watches her every breath. Cressida just her chin out to the side. "Go."

Oh, the hatred in his eyes at the thought of following her instruction is too pleasurable. But he does so, barging her shoulder on the way out. Cressida stumbles slightly, but stays smirking at the wall, watching him from the corner of her eye.

With a skip in her step, Cressida heads back to the upper floors with thoughts of pudding and fried chicken on her mind.