Chapter 31: A Trip on Ice
Cressida doesn't even bother trying to figure out her Christmas plans this year. They sort of just falls into place with no thought. On her part, anyway. Not that she minds.
So here she waits, in the Tower, surrounded by other students packed and ready to visit their families. Cressida isn't sure if she is considering this a family visit or just an escape. Both.
She leans against the brick wall, gazing out of the window on the opposite side. There isn't much other to see than a blanket of white and the occasional gust of wind blurring the skies. The grounds are essentially invisible.
On her head is a black beanie with a white ball on the very top that Sirius promptly flicked upon seeing it. That's probably why he added it.
Christmas is only a few days away, and Cressida still hasn't figured out what she's going to get any of the boys. Peter could be a nice sweater, and Sirius would be happy with another few vinyls for his record player. Maybe Remus would like some more movies since he enjoys watching them. James, she could…
Her head shakes at the stutter of thought. She has the entire train ride to think about that.
"What do you want for Christmas?"
It seems her mind wasn't the only one travelling down that road. Cressida tilts her head, using the brick against her scalp as a pivoting point. "You've never asked me before," she muses. "Run out of ideas?"
Sirius smirks gently. "Nah, just can't think of what you'd want the most."
Cressida purses her lips in thought, letting her head fall back straight. James, Remus and Peter hover around them. James sits on his upturned trunk, focused on playing with his intertwined fingers. Remus and Peter stand with folded arms, their eyes turned to watch the rest of the Tower. "A scarf," she decides. "To match the beanie."
Sirius groans. "Merlin you're so demanding," he laughs. "I have to make you a scarf and you want it matching? Oi, Prongs, she's demanding I make her a scarf to match her beanie."
James' eyes lift, hazel twinkling against the pale skin that comes with the cooler months. "Blimey," he says softly with a smile. "At least you know how to do that. I have to hunt down a deer charm."
"Stag," Cressida corrects, briefly letting her eyes rest on him before dropping back down to the floor. "And you don't have to, it was just a suggestion. Don't even worry about it, actually. It would be searching for a needle in a haystack. And Sirius you can just use magic to have the scarf knitted."
"Then that would take the Sirius touch out of it," the long-haired boy counters. "You're taking me too, wait for it, Siriusly." Cressida almost snorts but the sound becomes muffled by her own throat. "I would love to make you that. Maybe I could learn to make socks with funky patterns."
"Most pathetic joke of the day award goes to you," James says with a roll of his eyes. "Almost went to Remus for making a stupid werewolf pun but that topped it. And I am going to worry about it," he adds to her. "It'll be fun and I have backup plans."
Cressida nods in submission. James will do what James will do. A soft fist knocks against her shoulder, swaying her entire body. "What?" she whispers to Sirius who looks down at her with an expectant expression.
"You want to tell me why you're being so quiet?" he drawls out. "Is something bothering you? Someone?"
Her head shakes easily. There's no single answer. Every single corner of her mind is filled with problems. Regulus. Her mother. Her mind finally registering the pain her father caused. Feeling like she's losing James. The attack. McMullen. Death Eaters. Her latest Quidditch failure. Her grades are dropping in the most important year. Questioning whether she really is supposed to be in Gryffindor or not.
The brick wall slams back into place before she lets anything seep through to her skin. "Just thinking about what to get you all for Christmas," she answers.
James smiles gently. "Don't worry about it too much, we always like your gifts."
"Speak for yourself," Sirius huffs. "Can't believe you brought me that book in third year. It's like you didn't know me at all."
Her response is quiet and swift. "You read it in one sitting and cried when it finished."
"I was possessed," Sirius grunts, then squints his eyes in afterthought. "Polyjuice potion would have been a better explanation." Cressida wants to laugh, but the sound just doesn't come and her energy too drained to force it. Instead, her legs grow tired of waiting and she lets herself slide down the wall to sit on the floor. "Oh look, a seat."
She barely has a moment to register his words before a lump of weight presses against her legs and a head of dark hair brushes against her face.
"Bit bony," he complains. James only rolls his eyes, his attention floating elsewhere. Cressida grunts in response, stretching her neck to place her chin over his shoulder. Then, out of pure thoughtlessness, opens her jaw and bites his shoulder through his thick jumper. "Oi," he gasps. "You have sharp teeth."
"Not sorry," she mutters with a genuine smile. "It was just so tempting." Sirius scowls at her, rubbing his hand over the spot. Then he stands back up. Cressida shrivels her nose as his behind levels near her face and a short but distinct sound emits. What follows is Sirius' crowing and her own pure disgust. "You bloody child," she hisses, pushing him away by his legs.
"You're the one that bit me."
Remus who has looked over in his bickering, tilts his head up to the roof. "Why am I friends with toddlers?" Nobody has an answer for him.
The world outside is just as misty as it looked through the window. Everyone who put on thick layers are thanking themselves, and those who thought they were immune to the cold are now shivering and using their friends for warmth. And for their group, that is Sirius who stuffs his hands into the nearest persons' coats, even going so far as to unbutton or unzip them to sneak in.
Cressida squints as the icy breeze blows flakes of snow and claws of ice knives against her cheeks. The Hogwarts' express is already teeming with students who flood into it, looking for shelter against the oncoming snowstorm. Winter hit them early this year. Her weight bounces from foot to foot, keeping her muscles moving as they wait in line on the platform.
Finally, it starts moving faster, and they all take another step. Her left foot, though, steps on something unanticipated. It doesn't feel natural or caused by an icy path, but she is left with no chance to investigate as it causes her foot to be swept out from underneath her. The fall happens so fast that Cressida barely even registers it happening until a sharp pain erupts from her lower back.
James shoves Sirius' hands off of him, dropping to his knees beside her. Cressida is ready to take his help back up, not yet trusting the ground underneath her but another pair of hands land on her shoulders. She does a quick headcount, but all four of her friends are in front of her. Just the sheer instinct of who it is sending a shiver down her spine that doesn't source from the weather.
"She's fine," James says to the person behind her. Cressida peeks over her shoulder but the blonde hair confirms everything. James' arm tries to extend around her back and Cressida leans into him, turning onto her knees to face the opposite way.
Arthur crouches, a fake smile plastered on his cheeks that are tinted with a bright red. His eyes are drowning in concern, just as fake as the smile. "Are you sure, that was quite a fall?"
It's the most pathetic fall she's ever had. Falling off her broom in first year two feet off the ground was worse. "It was nothing," she answers.
"You look like you've cut your hand." His eyes divert down the length of her arm. Cressida glances down at her own hand, noting the minor cut that she probably received as a scrape against the ground. "I can heal it for you." He pulls out his wand before she has a chance to reject the offer. She can feel James' arm around her tensing.
"I'm good a healing spells," Sirius states, nothing but flatness and authority in his voice. "And I think we'd prefer to do it in our compartment." He reaches down, picking up her small side bag that fell from her shoulders. "Scurry along. Before I hex you for the fun of it."
The phoniness of McMullen's face drops. Enough for them to notice, but not enough for an unbeknownst bystander. "I'm just trying to be nice," he says, words long and laced with hidden malice. With that, his boots scuff the snow and he stalks away back to whatever unfortunate crowd he hangs around.
Once he is long gone, Remus jumps forward with a growl, punching the empty air in front of him. "Yeah, you better run!" They all fall into quiet laughter as Remus straightens his sweater with a stern face.
"The sweater makes you look real fierce Moony," Sirius chuckles. Remus glances down at his sweater that is a colourful array of earthy tones.
"You alright?"
Cressida's breath catches, hearing his whisper in her ear. His lips brush against the overly sensitive skin. Her nod is tiny, but not out of meekness or fear. He's so close that she doesn't want him to move away. "Dandy." She rises back to her feet, his hands resting on each of her elbows. Cressida turns her chest towards him, but her eyes are pointed into the white fog. There was something off about that interaction. He had been so conveniently close. Then she glances down at the spot her foot slipped on. Nothing, not even the remnants of snow or ice. "Am I… Insane for thinking that he caused that?" she questions aloud.
James, the only person she has in her sights, grits his teeth. His hazel eyes turn to slithers behind his glasses, looking over his shoulder toward McMullen as his hands rise to the back of her forearms.
"No," Sirius answers confidently. Looking back over her shoulder, she watches him scuff his shoe along the same patch of ground that she had just examined.
"What a maniac," Peter comments uncomfortably. "Why would he even do that?"
Remus glances at Peter from the corner of his eye. "To get in our good books," he answers. Cressida is glad to learn they have the same track of thought she does. Just as she goes to say so, a hand swoops across her backside. And then again. She doesn't have to look to see Sirius' wide sweeps that are supposedly wiping her clean of fresh snow that clings to the material of her pants. She sighs defeatedly.
"Really?" James breathes flatly, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip. "Boundaries, mate," he states firmly. "At least while I'm right here."
"Gay," Sirius defends. Cressida turns around. His hands are in surrender. She doesn't know what James's response is as it must be silent but Sirius only nods with a tight smile.
The lot of them find an empty compartment. Not their usual, but one can hardly tell except for the lack of the familiar smell that had leaked into the walls after a dung bomb explosion in their third year.
Was it James' place to make those boundaries anymore? Is it a step forward in the right direction, or not a step at all? Cressida can't deny the hurt she feels every time she looks towards him, knowing that she had something that could have been perfect and let it slip. But it is also hard to tell where the pain comes from anymore.
He thinks she was on the verge of turning away from him, which was the farthest from the truth. But telling him that comes with an explanation that he deserves. And that would unleash a dam of pent-up thoughts and cries that she's working so hard to keep behind her wall. She can't throw everything on to him. It wouldn't be fair.
Not when he already houses both her and Sirius. Not when he's already at risk of Azkaban for helping Remus and all the monthly efforts that come along with it. Not when he carries the responsibility of being both Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. Not when his own life would be perfect without them to bring it tumbling over. Cressida can't be the one to pull the block that causes him to succumb to pressure.
She can hear her name being called in the distance, but she keeps staring out the window until her jaw is tugged in another direction and the spell is broken. "Earth to Cressida," Sirius sings. "We're at the station."
Her eyes dart back to the window, the white scenery long gone and replaced with the grey stone and sandstone of platform 9¾. It felt like only moments ago they were just leaving. As she numbly stands up, her bag being passed to her by Remus from the overhead hanger, her eyes stayed glued to the platform. "You own the apartment now, don't you?"
Sirius nods. "Yeah, got a letter from Fleamont that the contract went through."
"We should spend some time there this Christmas. Settle in."
"Yeah, alright."