Chapter 10: Meeting the Family

"What have we got here," the famed Fredrickson bellows, hands resting on his hip with one foot cocked out to the side. Unlike James, who tends to go for lighter colours in formal events, the boy in front of her is wearing entirely black. His wand pokes out of the side of his pants, its end bulbed and carved. "Is this the famous Lily Evans?"

Cressida doesn't bow her head, but her eyes do flicker away. Of course, his extended family knows about her. "No," James answers after an awkward pause. "And I'm not quite sure how you know about her to begin with."

At least it hadn't come from James' mouth. Even so, she must be quite the topic of gossip if it circulated that much. Fredrickson shrugs off the unstructured question. "'Course you couldn't get her," he laughs, "and you're probably lucky you didn't bring her. She would have fallen for me in an instant." Brown eyes turn to her. "Though I'm sure you'll be falling for me too by the end of the night."

Cressida's response is instant. "I don't think I will be."

His smirk twists around, one cheek lifting more than the other. "Wouldn't be so sure of that. My charm is undeniable. I actually ended up coming alone." He leans close to James as Sirius might have in a brotherly way. "That way I get to choose which one to spend my time with and if I'm bored I can move on. You get me?"

"That's one way to look at it," James agrees for the sake of being civil. But she can tell from his overly tight grip and flat tone, he is just as uncomfortable in his presence as she is. "But I'd prefer bringing company that I know I'll enjoy. That way I don't have to mingle to find it."

"Hopefully she's decent enough to entertain you for the night," he continues as though she isn't even there. The agitating man peers over his shoulder, a look of disdain growing. "Would you look at what Uncle Dorkley brought? A bloody Muggle."

"You mean his wife," James corrects. Cressida's mouth is tightly locked closed. Fredrickson turns back to James, the expression barely wavering.

"Oh," he sighs in great disappointment. "I forgot you were all…" He waves his hand around the air. Then he laughs out of the blue. "Though, how could I have? Last time we saw each other your father had to pry you and that bloody Black git away." He continues laughing and the sound sets her on edge. "I don't understand what his obsession with Mud-bloods is. They're just a pack of lower castes that have the brain capacity of a chihuahua."

Just from the very bottom corner of her eye, Cressida can see James' fingers twitching over his pocket that holds his wand.

"You never introduced yourself," he says to her, a finger hooking around his chin. "What's your last name?"

Her eyes flicker away from James' hand towards the other boy's. The wand stays in his pocket, untouched. "Longbottom," she answers. "Cressida Longbottom."

The git in front of her snorts. "Didn't know the Longbottom's had a girl your age."

"I'm Frank's younger sister," says Cressida. Frank had been a Gryffindor a few years above her. She never met him in person other than passing by in the Common Room.

Fredrickson purses his lip, content enough with her answer. "Well I'm glad my cousin has chosen a respectable date. If the Potter family isn't part of the Sacred twenty-eight, then we can at least marry into it." He grins as though making the best joke of the night. "Could you imagine how disgraceful it would be to marry a Muggle like Uncle Dorkley? I want to vomit just at the thought of it."

Cressida's arm curves around the back of James, her fingers skimming over the top of his wand that pokes out from underneath his belt and pushes away his own fingers. He breathes out slowly and heavily as though just remembering where they are. His fingers run through the grooves of hers.

"Freddie!" a new and very feminine voice calls out. All three pairs of eyes search the crowd, but it does not take long for them to fall on a beautiful blonde woman striding confidently and alone. "Your mother is searching for you."

The woman must be in her late twenties, wearing a shade of faded pink in a very Muggle-fashioned dress, and a drink in hand. Her hair is a golden blonde, falling in artificial curls around her collarbone. She would contend with Marlene with beauty, only her beauty comes from exuberating confidence compared to Marlene's calm beauty that shows even when she is quiet.

The name Freddie truly takes away some of the power of the boy in front of her, to Cressida anyway. He sighs with agitation, muttering a goodbye and stalks back into the crowd.

"My saviour," James sings to the new woman, his shoulders falling down.

The woman tips her head to the side, shrugging, but clearly takes the compliment. "Doing my duty as your favourite cousin."

"You don't have much competition," he laughs. Cressida smiles softly at the woman, but still hasn't decided about the new company. James glances towards her, his hand squeezing slightly as though to encourage her to open up. "This is my cousin, Tilly. Tilly this is-"

"Cressida," she finishes, pearly white teeth on full display. Just the way her name is said—in sureness and pleasure—makes Cressida feel more at ease.

"Yes," she laughs. "What gave it away?"

Tilly laughs, winking at James. "Pictures. An entire album of you." Cressida's brows raise, uncertainty rising again and even James begins to say something, but the woman only laughs louder. "Kidding. That would be a little creepy. And I've been spending a good portion of my life teaching this boy how to not be creepy."

"Tilly used to babysit me," James adds for her sake.

"I was the only one he didn't throw a fit with."

"Because you bribed me with lollies."

Cressida lips are drawn back, her own body finally calming down. "Was it with chocolate frogs by any chance?"

Tilly presses her lips together, glancing to the side in a display of guiltiness. "Perhaps."

Cressida leans forward and mockingly away from James. "You've created an addiction. He has a pile in his nightstand at school now. Can't go without them."

The two girls laugh together like they've known each other longer than two minutes. Though James isn't laughing, he is barely suppressing a grin and his fingers pinch her side enough to make her jolt away from his hand. "I don't need you ganging up on me," he complains. "Go away, Tilly."

"No," she pouts. "You always tell me about your friends and I'm finally getting to meet one. You've stowed them away, but I don't blame you." Tilly's attention turns back to her. "You shouldn't think much about Freddie. He comes from a side of the family that married into the Blacks and they got caught up in the whole Blood purity thing. The only reason they're invited to this wedding is because Freddie's father is a good friend of the Groom's father. Most of them live in Europe and Freddie attended Durmstrang. They should stay over there in my opinion."

That would make sense as to why she's never seen the boy around before.

Cressida shrugs in an effort to dismiss the prior events. "As James said, there's a few in every family."

Tilly smiles in agreement. "You're Muggle-born, aren't you?" Cressida feels comfortable enough to nod easily. "Well, you're in good company," Tilly continues to smile, gesturing to James with her glass. "Freddie and James have already gotten in altercations because of their disagreements on their viewpoints."

Cressida smiles, but her eyes narrow slightly as she looks over James' face. "I never really imagined you to fight someone because of that," she muses, almost in a ghostly tune, off in her own mind.

"Of course I would," James dismisses. "You're just comparing me to Sirius who looks for those fights." Cressida hums in agreement. "And if we weren't at a wedding right now-"

"But you are," Tilly interjects with a slow and pointed tone. "And you will behave. In two hours you won't even have to see him again for at least another few years. Unless of course he decides to start something first, then it's every man for himself." She brings the glass to her lips, eyes brimming over the crowd as she sips the golden wine. "And I wouldn't mind hexing him myself."

The woman, who Cressida has decided she already has an immense liking for slithers back into the crowd after a few more words. James takes the lead once more, introducing her to a few more people here and there, and avoiding others. They eat from a buffet and even sneak in some alcohol until Euphemia finds them and accios it away from their hands with a sharp look that disappears as soon as another guest walks up to her and her husband.

"I'm sorry," he says as they sit down at a table far enough away from everybody that they do not have to share. It is covered in a white cloth, golden napkins piled in the centre. The reception is nearly over and Cressida can feel her heels aching from the heeled shoes. "I really wouldn't have asked you to lie about that in any other circumstance but-"

Cressida shakes her head, laying a hand on his folded ones. "I understand. I don't like it, but I also would prefer not to be ridiculed in front of a bunch of people I don't know. There are times to lie, for the ease of everyone."

James doesn't smile or even seem to agree with her words. "I'm not ashamed of you. I'm not trying to hide who you are."

Cressida only widens her smile, leaning closer to his chair on her right. "I know you're not. You have never been that person." She brings her own chair closer, leaning her side against its frame. "I know we were joking earlier about not liking each other, but the reason I became your friend was because you stood up for me, even before you knew who I really was when I was called a Mud-blood. All you knew was my name and not even my first." James laughs softly at their inside joke, his eyes searching hers for her to continue. "I had no idea the world I was getting into, but you helped me from the very moment we met. So if you're telling me not to say something, or to act a certain way, I'm trusting you with my entire life because I had to when I had no one else to turn to. Now it's by choice."

He stares at her, his lips pulling into various forms of a smile. "So if I told you to dance like a monkey, you would?"

Cressida breathes out a chuckle, hitting the palm of her fist softly against his chest. "You can't take a moment seriously, can you? You did it as well when you promised to tell me what you were thinking instead of nothing. You even told me to ask you again, and you ruined it."

James rolls his neck around, eyes pointing up to the ceiling. Cressida watches him fondly, his smile growing, but something else is there that she can't quite see. Her hand that is still on his chest opens up, her fingers running over the edge of his vest, hooking over the material. James' head lops to the side in a moment of contemplation. He stares at her and Cressida stares back.

After a minute of not speaking, he raises his brows, prompting her to do something. Cressida sighs mirthfully before whispering. "What?"

"You make me nervous sometimes."

Cressida's eyes flash with surprise, both at his answer and the fact that he has answered her in the first place. "I make you nervous?" she repeats.

James nods softly with a slow blink. "Yeah. I don't know how to explain it, but whenever you have these heartfelt moments, I get scared. I feel like I'm going to say something wrong. Especially since we've been so on and off this past year." Instead of happiness at the revolution of him finally answering her, she only feels guilt. She had been making him scared to even talk to her? Her thoughts must be apparent because James suddenly sits up, one hand travelling to the one still on his vest, the other coming to fit under her jaw. "Hey, that's not a bad thing. I just care a lot."

Cressida feels her nose sting. "You shouldn't be scared to talk to me because I'm like an explosion waiting to go off," she whispers.

James shakes his head, eyes pointing upwards at her as he leans so far forward that he's bent over. "That's not why I'm nervous." His gestures are tender and warm, and Cressida believes him when he speaks. His smile grows as she relaxes, the hand on her jaw now brushing hair behind her ear. "You look tired."

"I am," she confesses.

"I'm going to go tell Mother then we can go."

He leans forward even more, half-standing up, and presses a kiss against her lips. Then he's moving around her and striding through the hall to find his parents. Cressida's tiredness is flushed away, head snapping over her shoulder. It was nothing big, just a simple peck. It would have been easily dismissible if it had been just an inch to her left or right.

Her first thought is that he accidentally did so and her mood turns sour. But those thoughts come and leave as quickly as the kiss. He loves her. And he hasn't given up. A smile, small but true to her heart graces her blessed lips, the tips of her fingers caressing over the spot.

Heh, sorry about missing an update. Flopped to bed with a headache and forgot. But here's another chapter