Chapter 5: Small Moments

I really have no idea how I would even start something like this. I asked Moony and Padfoot, and even Wormatil but none of them had the right words. I'm scared that this might be the end of our friendship, especially since you seem so set on ignoring my attempts, but I've never felt like this before. And just like you said, if I love this girl, don't hesitate with her. Not out of fear. And you're that girl.

I love you. I know you'll find it hard to believe me if I tell you how much you mean to me. I don't know how to pour out my feelings for you now. I told myself, I might as well take the risk because I'd rather take the chance than watch you with another man knowing I stood back and did nothing. I love you so bloody much that it hurts not to say it to you every time that I see you. Every time I see you enter the room, it's the first thing that comes to my head.

I feel a bit like a coward (and very un-Gryffindor-like), writing to you over Christmas but I want to give you time to think and give you space if you don't feel the same. I know it will change the way you look at me, but how you feel is my priority and I swear that I will not change from simply being your friend.

J.F.P

"I don't understand."

"What's there not to understand?" Cressida stares at the letters. She's read it. Four times over. She's praying that James is struggling with ordering their dinner so she has more time to figure out what's happening inside her brain. Sirius sits impatiently, an arm stretched along the back of the lounge. "You already knew how he felt, this is just it written down. And probably better than how he would ever say it with words. That's why he sent it in the first place."

Cressida's head begins to shake. "I didn't." The letters on the parchment are clear as day, yet make little sense. "We-I…" She hunches forward, the hand not grasping the letter with dear life now covering her mouth. He loves her. That's what is written down.

"What do you mean you didn't?" Sirius questions flatly. "He said he was going to tell you. Then you two had a conversation that didn't go down well. And why - you never told me but I have my assumptions."

"You knew," Cressida realises. "How long have you known he's supposedly felt this way?"

Sirius narrows his eyes at her. "Not 'supposedly'," he makes a point to her. "And since just before Christmas. Now tell me what happened at the party. Cause it clearly didn't go the way he intended if he ended up kissing Lily."

Cressida's stomach churns at the memory. What had happened that night? This letter in front of her is the opposite of what she thought was going to happen. "I… I overheard you two talking in your dorm. James said that our date–which I know wasn't a proper date," she adds, unable to stop herself from being defensive, "that it was a misunderstanding on my part. So when he came down, I just told him that before he could tell me."

She has no idea what Sirius' reaction is going to be. No idea if he is going to confirm her recollection. Comfort her and tell her that James' alleged feelings since then have changed. He has Lily now. Why would he give that up for her?

"You're a fucking idiot." Cressida eyes widen at his aggressive tone. "You're an absolute idiot Cressida." He stands from the lounge, striding over to the middle, arched, window which is taller than himself. His arms are crossed, his head slowly shaking. "You always do this. You always jump to conclusions. You always defend yourself before you even have time to realise that you don't need to defend anything." Cressida stays on the lounge, silent and still. "With everything. Whenever you have to give gifts. When you thought you lost your place on the team." Sirius turns around, now marching back towards her. "Open yourself up for once. Pain is okay."

It's not a reality check. She's always known that she's done this. People have told her before. But to be spoken to so bluntly about it by someone so close to her heart hurts no matter how many times grey people in your life do. Cressida sniffs hard, placing the letter on the coffee table and then draws in on herself, trying to hide from the world.

The boy in front of her softens, dropping to a crouch in front of the lounge. "I'm just getting back at you for all the times you've snapped at me." She gargles out a chuckle, smiling with her eyes. "Which I'm never going to do again because that look is more pathetic than a puppy's. Come on." He motions for her to sit up and then slides into the space between her and the lounge's arm. He hugs her from behind, picking up the letter and reopens it. Cressida lays her head on the length of his shoulder, legs stretching down the lounge. "So now you know he feels the same way, but he doesn't know you do."

"You haven't told him?" she croaks out, using the shoulder of her shirt to wipe away a stray tear.

Sirius shakes his head. "I don't spill my friend's secrets like that. I wasn't going to tell James when I thought he was still caught up on Lily. And while I had my theories about how he felt since last summer, he didn't tell me until Christmas, and I thought you two would open up by yourselves. Not to mention if things did go wrong, I knew I'd get the blame. Remus has known about James' feelings since… I don't know, maybe late end of fifth year, but he didn't know about yours. It's been a jigsaw for all of us you know."

James loves. Her. Is that even possible? When did it happen? Every time she reads the words, all she can imagine is Lily reading them. Like that's who they were meant for, but she's stolen the letter. But it's her name on the letter.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Cressida folds the letter back up, exactly along the creases. "I love him, Sirius, but I also love him as my friend. And I'm not sure if I want to risk losing that yet."

"He is." Sirius' head rests over her shoulder. "Not that he'd want to lose you as a friend in a million years, but he also wants you as more. And he's not thinking of a theoretical downfall, because he's not playing with the idea of ever losing you. He just doesn't know how to get you in the first place. You're quite the opposites in that way."

Cressida breathes slowly and deeply, holding the paper to her chest. "What about Lily?"

"What about her?"

"Aren't they now sort of a thing? Or at least becoming one."

Sirius rolls his eyes, leaning his weight against the back of the lounge. "Whatever that was, lasted a whole three weeks and only because James is an idiot and Lily thought that… well, she thought that letter was for her and yeah, she might have been warming up to him."

Now Cressida feels horrible for Lily. How horrified she must have been to realise that letter wasn't for her. When did she realise? Did James have to tell her? Cressida still struggles to believe it is even for her in the first place. What would she have thought if she received it when she meant to?

"Promise me you won't say anything to him." Cressida looks at Sirius over her shoulder, gaze now strong and confident. "Just let me figure myself out and then… We'll see."

Sirius holds his hands up in gentle surrender. "That's the most I can ask for at the moment. And maybe for that boy to hurry up. I'm starving."

Cressida huffs and laughs, but the sound is interrupted by the front door opening. "Honey, I'm home!" James calls down. Sirius nearly leaps into the air, throwing Cressida off and jogs around the lounge and into the kitchen. Swiftly and quietly, she tucks the letter into the pocket of her trunk before standing up to face the two boys.

The scent of their dinner wafts through the small flat and her stomach practically drags her towards the plastic bag filled with white boxed containers. "I have no idea what any of this is, but it smells great," James sings, sounding just as ravenous as Sirius looks who is nearly bouncing around the bench as the containers are pulled out. "Do we have one each or are we sharing?" Cressida walks up to the bench, noticing how his hair is growing longer than he usually wears it. "Cress?" James glances at Sirius with a light but questioning gaze. "Cress?" he tries again.

He loves her? He loves her. She loves him. Does he actually love her? Or is it just some weird manifestation of their close friendship? All these questions barge the other out of the way, desperately pleading to be answered. But she meets his eyes, so beautifully hazel. There isn't an inkling of doubt about how true the words in the letter were, or if they were meant for her.

"Share," she answers with a wide smile. "I'd say grab plates but we're going to have to eat straight from the box." Rifling through the plastic bag, she pulls out a few chopsticks, handing one to each of them and then two cartons. The boys follow her lead and they head to the floor in front of the windows, sitting in a small circle. Before they start, Cressida quickly changes into her pyjamas.

They open each of them, the scent stronger than ever. Not unsurprisingly, neither of the boys know how to use the chopsticks. They've never had sushi either, apparently. Cressida is already making notes on what she's going to be bringing back to her future home on her 'cooking nights'.

"No-no, hold it like a quill," she laughs, moving James' fingers around. "Let the bottom one just rest and move naturally."

"Can't I just do what Sirius is doing?"

Cressida and James watch Sirius stab a single chopstick into the box, pulling it out with an impaled piece of honey chicken. "Not if you want to be able to eat the rice," she continues to laugh. Sirius holds up a finger mid-bite then places the box of chicken to the side, taking the fried rice from the middle. Instead of scooping it, he places the corner of the box to his mouth and then uses one chopstick to encourage it to fall. "I've lost my argument," she resigns. "But we're never eating Chinese in public."

"Do you enjoy going to Chinese restaurants?" James questions.

Cressida shrugs, chewing through her own box. "I mean, I've only ever been to one once or twice but I'd like to go more. We couldn't afford to often, despite the family business. My father is not a businessman, but he does know how to boss people around."

"Then teach me." Cressida slows her chewing. James is smiling at her, his hand still as though awaiting instructions. "If you want to go out to them, then I want to be able to take you and not look like a fool."

"Most places will offer forks," she murmurs, touched by the thought.

"Well I like cooking and cuisine," he adds with a grin, "so I'd love to embrace the utensils."

Cressida imagines that teaching him is a lot easier than it would be to teach Sirius, so she takes up the challenge. He's a fast learner, listening to her every word and by the time he gets to try the rice, James quickly figures out the correct way by himself.

The conversation moves onwards from eating to how Sirius decided to make a movie scene entrance into her home. "He bombarded down my front door!" Cressida laughs, a hand on her stomach, tears of laughter filling her eyes.

"It was locked!" Sirius defends, smiling behind his serious set-face.

Cressida's neck stretches forward. "Alohomora?" she drawls out mockingly.

Sirius takes a moment to answer her. "I had to make a statement. They weren't going to let me take you easily if I waddled in with a spell I learnt when I was five."

"They're muggles. Simply unlocking the door would have them crying witchcraft."

James laughs at their argument, leaning against the front of the couch. They had pushed the coffee table out of the way, leaving nothing in the way of Cressida and James' view of the windows that reveal a beautiful scene of London. Sirius back is towards it, the soft glint of the moon and light reflecting off his shiny black locks.

"What exactly does your family do?" James asks. "I got the hint that it's not anything legal."

"Guns," she answers with a sigh. "Import. Export. My father isn't the big boss, but he's in charge of making connections with people and keeping things happy. Recently he failed in his job, and someone tipped off the police. We've been in a bit of a lockdown ever since."

"Doesn't sound glamorous," he notes softly. Cressida shakes her head in agreement with a tight smile. "But you're out of there. And remind me to pay you back for this dinner."

Cressida feels a bubble of guilt rise. "You don't need to repay me." James' lips part, an argument on the tip of his tongue. "Seriously. It wasn't my money. Which means that either you paid for dinner, or you owe Sirius. I haven't figured out which one of you it was yet."

Of course she had brought it down to one of those two. They're the only people that she knows with that kind of money lying about. She watches each of their expressions carefully. The two boys look at each other, a silent conversation happening that they have not invited her into.

Sirius is the first to look back at her. "It was one of us," he agrees. "But we're not telling you which. Otherwise, I know you'll feel you owe us. And we don't want you to."

"I just feel like I owe both of you now," she contends. "And I'm sort of curious to figure out when you slipped it in my trunk. You must have gotten one of the girls to do it." They both keep their mouths shut, eliciting a huff from her chest. Fine, don't tell her. "Are going back home, James?"

"I'll stay the night," he answers quickly. "I can take the lounge. I brought over blankets for the beds as well."

Cressida' eyes flash towards the beautiful view she hasn't been able to draw her eyes away from for long. "I want the lounge. I like the windows."

"You can have the bedroom with the window," Sirius points out.

"But these ones are bigger." Sirius doesn't bother arguing further. He's not the one giving up his bed. Cressida pushes herself back onto the lounge itself, stretching across its length. Her head lies a few inches past James' which still rests against the seat pillow. As though sensing her eyes resting on the back of his head, he looks back at her, smiling goofily. Cressida laughs silently, raking her fingers from the front of his hair back. Her lips mouth the words, but she doesn't berate them. "I love you."

James' goofy smile morphs into something more tender and real. He mouths the same words back to her, taking her hand away from his head and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

"Love you too, Sirius," she adds aloud, eye flicking to her brother.

He's already smiling to himself. "Love you too, Cress." Her eyes close over, remembering at the end of fifth year when she had to fight him to hear those words. She won't ever know if he just fought to taunt her or he really never felt comfortable saying them, but she's forever glad that he does now. "Love you Prongs."

Cressida laughs, feeling James' chest move in a similar fashion as her palm rests over it and his hands grip her forearm. "Love you too Padfoot." As Sirius grins dorkishly, greedily eating away at their leftovers, Cressida opens her eyes once more, stretching down until her face is next to James.

"Thank you, for coming."

"It wasn't exactly a hard decision," he whispers back to her, the goofy smile back. "Be at home alone, or with two of my favourite people in the world." Cressida smiles tenderly, taking the moment to look at him closely. Every curve of his face. The slight dimples of his smile. "Are you sure you want the lounge?"

Cressida laughs silently, looking back out over the view, which is somewhat blocked by the silhouette of Sirius tipping a carton into his mouth. "For now. I'll sneak into one of your rooms if I don't like it."

"You're more than welcome."

Leaning forward, she kisses the corner of his mouth. Enough that it is obvious that she isn't just overshooting, but safe enough that her confidence doesn't shake. He doesn't move, not even after she leans back. James watches her, searching for something. Cressida smiles again, laying her head back down, her thumb and forefinger rolling his shirt around over his chest. James finishes his thought, sighing loudly and letting his head loll backwards until it rests against the lounge seat.

We shall not be judging the letter please. I do not write fluff like that very well lmao. Originally I just had something copied from the internet - and some lines I have still stolen and used in this one - but it didn't sound like James. But it was more generic and fit with Lily's response - so we're (i.e you guys) are going to ignore Lily's response (first draft issues).

:)