Chapter 39: Perhaps, a Chance?
Cressida's pleasure doesn't end after Snape crawled his way back into the safety of his Common Room. At dinner, purely by coincidence, she took a seat facing the Slytherin table and Snape had sat right down in her view. She had been early, letting the boys sit wherever they wanted to around her. And Remus just so happened to sit down next to her.
"You look way too happy," Remus notes to her as he reaches over for potato salad. "Are you going to tell us what you went off to?"
Cressida tears her eyes away from a cowering Snape to the bookish boy on her right. With a large grin, she retorts, "Why is it such an issue that I'm happy? I've just had a few good days recently."
"It's not an issue," he counters with a pointed smile that matches her own. "I'm just curious as to why."
Sirius leans forward from the opposite side of the table. "Have you pulled a prank without us?" he accuses with the prongs of his fork. Then his eyes widen. "Are we the victims?"
"She wouldn't," Peter disagrees quickly to Sirius but there's uncertainty in his eyes. "Would you?"
"I'm not even that big on pranks," Cressida laughs. "That's you two," she adds, gesturing to the two trouble-makers.
"Well I'm happy too," Sirius says casually.
"Why's that mate?" James asks from her left.
"Because my uncle died." Their eating pauses and a range of expressions fill their faces. Should they be happy that a family member died? Was it someone horrible? Sirius chuckles to himself, stabbing a sausage. "I didn't know him well, but apparently he liked me enough to leave me his entire fortune."
"Holy shit," Remus mutters. Everybody in the Great Hall would be able to guess that any family member of the Black family would have quite a fortune built up.
"Yeah," Sirius nods. "It's enough to not only afford a small home, but I could live off it for quite a while before I would need an income. I'd say to at least thirty."
Cressida licks her lips, tipping her head to the side. "Congratulations? And I'm sorry for your loss?" she says slowly. Sirius smirks, perking his brows in a swift motion. "So still the rich boy you are at heart?"
"Utterly."
The table laughs at his proud demeanour. Despite the loathing of his family and history, he would never be able to scrape off the small habits ingrained in his life. The way he writes, the best quality clothes and shoes, the proud strut. The dashing smile.
"Are we map-making tonight? I know we have the game tomorrow, but we could get a few hours' worth of work done."
James nods. "Yeah," he breathes easily. "Wormtail and Moony wanted to head to the library for a while but that closes at ten, doesn't it?"
"Nine," Peter corrects.
"Nine then," James fixes himself. Cressida holds the snort threatening; of course, he wouldn't know when the library shut. "See if you can bring any books back that we haven't looked at before."
"I think we've loaned the entire library," Remus says, rolling his eyes. In a simple, nonchalant action, he looks off to the left while chewing on his food but something catches his attention. His back straightens and he lowers his knife and fork. "What the hell he is doing? Is he coming this way?"
All five pairs of Marauders' eyes are turned to the back end of the Great Hall which is filled to the brim of students. A few wander down the aisle, but one in particular, donning blue coloured robes is heading straight towards them, despite the Ravenclaw table being on the very other far end.
Cressida instantly sighs at the sight of Arthur, turning back to her food. The boys, however, stare at him. They aren't unaware of what went down in Hogsmeade.
"Hey, uh, listen mate. I just want to apologise."
Cressida's pauses her purposeful ignoring. Mate? That's definitely not language addressing her. Half-turning her head to peek up at the blonde heartthrob, she finds his blue eyes not settled on, but on James.
James is just as stunned as her. "What?"
Cressida looks towards Sirius who sits right in front of her, reading his reaction. Sirius' lips are parted, staring at the Ravenclaw with a few glances between her and James.
Arthur exhales, hands stuffed in his pants. "Yeah. I didn't realise that you didn't like talking about that stuff and-"
"Stuff? James interjects. Cressida glances towards him. He looks like he can't believe his eyes or ears. "You mean the vulgar comments? I'm not sure any decent man finds interest talking about that in public."
"Hey, hey. Look, I'm not here to fight with you." He holds his hands up with a careless smirk. "I thought we could make amends. Like I said, I only said something because I saw you looking too. Thought we could find something in common."
Cressida's chest constricts, and although she could barely restrain herself from imagining that exact situation with a blush, she knows that it would be the exact opposite of pleasurable for James to be accused of that right in front of her.
"Do you not have a filter?" Remus hisses to him. A little bit of a surprise considering he's usually quiet in confrontations. He's turned in his seat, peering up at the Ravenclaw with disgusted curiosity. "And I don't think it's James that you should be apologising too."
"He's right," James agrees. "But she doesn't want to hear it."
It's not often that she'd let them completely speak on her behalf whilst she's right there, but like she was back at the Three Broomsticks, Cressida is stuck in a world of being silent.
Sirius leans forward, his folded arms pressing into the table. "And that means: fuck off."
Arthur observes the group. Cressida knew from the first date that he was trying to get something out of her. At first she thought it might've been just a few secrets like the passages and hangouts that they've found, but as soon as he showed an over interest in her friends – asking to hang out with them, joining James' and Lily's date – she confirmed that it was their status he wanted. He wanted to be more popular than he is. He wanted the immunity he thought comes with being their friend. She was just a way to get to it.
Knowing his final fight is lost, Arthur McMullen sulks away quietly back to his table, probably praying that the Marauders' scoldings weren't loud enough for others to hear.
He's left a tension at their section of the table that nobody seems to know how to break. "I mean, at least he was right about one thing," Cressida sighs with a sly smile.
Sirius frowns at her. "What's that?"
"I do have a nice arse."
Remus and Peter lapse into choked laughter. Sirius smirks proudly, winking at her moment of confidence and tease. Cressida grins back at him, looking to her left to read James' expression. He wears a small smile but his head is hanging low and focused on his food. Cressida takes a long draw of air, building up another bout of confidence for what she is about to do.
She nudges his arm, prompting his eyes to lift and reach hers. "I don't blame you for looking. Even Sirius can't help himself."
"Hey!" Sirius cries in defence. "It's objectively nice. And I like looking at nice things. An arse is an arse."
Cressida chuckles, pinching her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
"I just don't want you thinking that I'm…" James trails off, glimpsing over his shoulder towards the Ravenclaw table. "Like that. It wasn't like… how he put it. I would never objectify you."
Cressida's face falls into a humoured deadpan. She tries not to blush over his technical admission to doing so. "James. I have never thought of you to be someone like that. You're a guy-" she points her fork at each of the boys around her, "-and teenage guys are the most hormonal bunch I've ever met."
The table rouses in various forms of agreement but Cressida is then faced with Sirius' accusatory finger pointed at her. "Don't completely generalise us. I'd bet good money that you've at least had a smoky dream about one of us."
She immediately goes to deny it, but her words stutter. "No-I-I…" With a groan, her head flops into her hands as the table around her cackle. Cressida can't help but laugh at herself as well.
"Who was it then!?" Peter shrieks.
Xx
Cressida leisurely makes her way up to the boys' dormitory around eight o'clock. Remus and Peter would still be in the library, but they would be back with snacks and books before long.
"Covering my eyes," she announces loudly, barging the door open with her shoulder and indeed covering her hand over her eyes. "Last time I came in, two of you were completely naked."
"The door was shut," she hears Sirius contend.
"Not locked," she counters in return. Cracking two of her fingers apar, she risks a look into the room only. Sirius is shirtless, with his towel in hand but James is dressed in sweatpants and a loose jumper. "How unusual."
Sirius gives her a doggish grin, holding out his arms. "I'm the gay one, not you. Don't pretend you don't like what you see. I'm hot."
"Pretty," James corrects from his spot lounging on his bed. He dons an innocent smile. "Cress thinks you're pretty."
Sirius purses his lips, arms dropping back down as he considered the observation. "I can take pretty." With that, he turns to leave to their small bathroom to have a shower.
"He could take any compliment," Cressida drawls to James, sauntering over to his bed. Offering him a momentary warning in the form of a cheeky smile, she lets herself fall forward, landing directly on top of him.
James grunts in both surprise and probably pain, knees curling upwards and his stomach tensing. Cressida laughs, pushing herself up and is met with his scrunched, but humoured expression. "Didn't hold back, did you?"
She shakes her head, bringing her legs to her side, facing the head of the bed with an arm stretched over the other side of his hips to keep her balanced. "Then you'd be insulted thinking that I thought you couldn't take my weight."
"Touché," he mutters with a grin. The sound of the water filling pipes fills the remaining quietness of the dorm in the lack of its hosts. "But you can't complain when I do the same thing to you."
"You'll earn a foot in the groin."
They stare at each other, waiting for the other to break. Cressida does first, turning her head away to laugh softly. She sees his stolen snitch sitting on his nightstand. Picking it up, she lays on her stomach alongside him, playing with the small golden ball. "Can I ask you something?"
"You don't need to ask to ask something," he drawls, leaning up and forward to pull a throw blanket over them both. "We've talked about this."
"Don't be a dick," she laughs, keeping her eyes pointed on the snitch. "Why didn't you deny it? When Arthur said you were…" She can't finish her own words, feeling strange for even talking about something like this with him.
James breathes deeply, one of his legs bending upwards at the knee. He stares at the ceiling up until the moment he answers, then looks straight at the side of her face. "Because I don't think anyone would have believed me if I tried to. And I was. No point in lying."
Cressida blushes violently, only risking a glimpse at him before staring at the very quiet snitch whose wings haven't protruded yet. That morning she had been utterly determined to just move on.
James rolls onto his side to face her. "I find all of you very attractive." Her heart stops working. She presses her lips together with her teeth to stop them from widening like a fool.
Gather her own confidence back, she turns her head to the side, forgetting about the snitch. His eyes are wide and attentive, soaking in every blink, every twitch on her skin. "You do?"
"Every damn inch of you."
She should really say something back. James looks content enough with her reaction, which she knows is nothing short of a dark red blush. He simply smiles at her.
"Anything from the kitchen dears!?"
Their bodies jolt as Remus and Peter burst into the dorm with their arms full of food. Cressida lapses into giggles at Remus' impression of the Trolly Lady. James snaps up into a sitting position, the blanket piling at his lap but still tented by his raised knee.
"I dibs the chocolate," she cackles. Remus' grin drops, bringing the food in his arms closer to his chest defensively. Peter and James chuckle as the gentle boy quietly takes the food to his bed to sort through before allocating it. Under the blanket, a large, warm hand rests on the back of thigh and in a familiar motion, squeezes and releases continuously.
Once Sirius emerges from his shower, shaking his sopping wet around and spraying them all with water, they make their way onto the floor once more in a pile of blankets and pillows. Cressida wages war with Remus for sugary treats, ending up with little under half of it that she sulkily shares with Sirius.
The map is nearly ready.
There's a few glitches and spells that need fixing but it's almost there.
That's only part of the reason Cressida is enjoying the night. He sits next to her. Touches her. Flirts. Nobody else notices, or maybe it just doesn't look unnatural to them. But she does. And for the first time since Christmas of 1975, Cressida believes that she might have a true chance with him.