Chapter 36: A Sweater

Everything feels so warm and simple. Light sheds over the bed, but neither are ready to let themselves wake. That is, until their door barges open.

"Christmas morning!" their visitor cries in a deep, opera-like voice. Cressida barely has time to lift her head before the person leaps onto the bed. Her stomach is pushed into the mattress, eliciting a grunted sound from her throat. "I get to wake both of you up at once? Best present yet."

James, who is lying on his back next to her, digs the back of his head further into the pillow. "Who let the dog inside?" he moans. "I think we need a cat instead."

"I like cats," Cressida agrees with a yawn. The person laying their weight on them only presses their weight in further. "Did you have to jump, Sirius?"

"Absolutely," he grins. "Besides, it's already nine-thirty and your mother is wondering why you're both not up. I can either tell her that you're coming or exaggerate the truth and give great reasons as to why you're exhausted."

Cressida blindly reaches behind her, her fingers threading through Sirius' hair. She tightens them, eliciting a hiss of pain as she brings his head down to hers. "Do you want to be alive by next Christmas or not?"

Sirius whines. "It would be desirable," he mutters. Cressida lets go of his hair, and the boy shoots straight back up and out of reach. "I'll meet you downstairs." Cressida makes a grumbling sound of agreement, turning onto her side to watch him stride out of James' room.

"I almost don't want to get up," James whispers, running a hand over his face. Cressida smiles to herself, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. She can't help herself and leans up to press another one against his cheek, then his forehead, this on his other cheek. "You're making it harder," he adds in a raw morning voice. Cressida smiles wider, lips pressing against his, but not yet quite a kiss. She reaches out to the side, grabbing his glasses from his nightstand and then leans back up, planting them on his nose. James blinks as his world adjusts. "I'm assuming you do want to get up then?"

"As much as I am comfortable, I think Christmas morning takes precedence over sleeping in. Tomorrow," she adds in a promise.

Not bothering with dressing, since they always spent Christmas morning in their pyjamas, Cressida and James head downstairs straight from the bed. The kitchen is filled with delicious sweetness of pancakes and bacon. Fleamont sits next to an impatient Sirius with a tea in hand and Euphemia is settled against the bench, her magic working the kitchen for her. For the first time in a long time, Cressida spends many hours feeling nothing but happiness. Happiness and love. Love from James, his parents, Sirius. And for herself. Loving the world around her.

She had already brought a gift basket for James' presents during the Summer in preparation and left it in her room and in return, she is given a few Muggle books and a broom repair kit to replace her old one which has worn down since third year.

Like fifth year, the giving is split into two and Sirius, James, and Cressida have their own smaller Christmas with each other to exchange gifts.

Sirius leans against the foot of the couch, the records that she brought spread over his lap. To his face, he holds to David Bowie one that she already knew he'd like the most. "Hell yeah," he murmurs to himself. Cressida smiles, sharing a look with James, pleased with herself. In her lap, is Sirius' present, so she unravels the packaging. It's soft, but bulging so her guess of a scarf is questioned. The knitted pattern is the first thing she finds. On the bottom is a folded scarf, thick and handmade. It is blue. It won't match her scarf, but she says nothing, having a feeling he did that on purpose. But on top, is an odd thing that takes her a moment to register what it is.

"A shark?" she laughs. A knitted shark with the same colour blue as her scarf. Sirius grins, picking the shark off her lap.

"I wanted to make something else and I thought, what else is cooler than a shark?" he declares. "A lion is, obviously, but there are about three mutilated ones in my room because they were so difficult, so instead you now have a shark. And it even has teeth."

Cressida goes to reach to run her finger over the small-knitted teeth, but the shark is launched towards her. The small points inside the mouth create a ticklish feeling on her neck and she erupts in a squeal that only encourages Sirius to keep attacking her, making childish shark biting noises. As her lungs struggle to breathe, Cressida snatches the shark away from his grip, holding it close to her chest. "I love it."

Sirius nods to himself, pleased. Cressida looks to James on her right, his present sitting behind her on the seat of the lounge. "Mine first," he says. "Now, I know how you felt about it, so to make you feel better, what I was going to give you with it, is now a part of your birthday present."

Cressida watches his hand carefully as it protrudes a small box from behind him. The black velvet casing strikes immediate familiarity. "You went back," she says, more of an accusation than a question.

"I could tell you loved it." He holds the box forward to her, giving her no choice but to take it. Cressida takes the small but heavy box, almost wanting to never open it. But it's done now. James does what James wants to.

She opens it. Inside is the stag charm, exactly the same as it was in the shop. Antlers embedded with diamonds, the head made of white gold and platinum. It feels too valuable to even be held by her hands. "I'm upset that you went back, but," Cressida begins slowly, "I love it."

Sirius pries the case gently from her hands, holding it up to his face with narrowed eyes and a scrutinising scowl. Then he shoves it back at her. "My shark is better." James and Cressida both laugh, the latter holding both of them close to her chest.

Remembering she still has a gift to give, placing the scarf, shark and charm box close to her legs, she picks up the slightly heavy present behind her head on the lounge. It isn't the best wrapped because of the shape, but she knows James doesn't really care for that at all.

"Thank you," he says with so much sincerity, it makes her wonder if her own sounded sincere enough. She'll make sure he does. He tears the wrapping easily, a brown leather cover becoming quickly apparent. A comprehensive book of soft leather, with the words 'The Marauders' embellished with gold stitching over the front cover. James glances at her before he opens it with both amusement and questioning.

Then he turns the cover open, revealing the first page with a single photo lined in the centre. Gideon had taken it in their fourth year, all five of them lined in front of the Black Lake. Sirius is kicking water up with his foot. Remus is already soaked from having fallen in, his sandy hair dripping around his laughing face. Cressida is in the middle of screaming, pushing Peter to the side to avoid the water's splash. And James is standing on one foot, just about to fall in as Remus had done.

"I-" James cuts himself before any words leak from his lips, eyes stuck on the picture. His spare hand moves to cup his mouth as he finally turns the page. Sirius watches with a soft grin, already knowing since she had asked for any pictures that he had and would be willing to put into the album. The rest of the album is sorted into a series of themes, ranging from featuring a specific face, to Christmas, birthdays, or complete nonsense. Cressida is so intently watching the moving pictures herself that she takes two glances to realise that James has tears in his eyes.

"I know it's not technically anything new, but I thought for our last year at Hogwarts, it would be something nice to have when we don't see each other every day." He continues flipping through them until he reaches the end. There is around a quarter of the book left empty, but it was done so on purpose. "So we can add to it."

"This is amazing."

Xx

Cressida hears the sound of the fireplace being engulfed in flames. And it could only mean one thing. "Remus!" With her skates in hand, she jumps down the staircase with heavy thunks echoing throughout the house.

"She never runs for anybody else!" Sirius cries from somewhere else downstairs. "Only Moony!"

Cressida flashes past him with a broad smirk. "Because he gives the best hugs." Dropping her skates onto a nearby seat, her arms open wide as the tall, sandy-haired boy emerges from the main living room. Remus drops his overnight bag and prepares himself for the force of her run. He catches her with a loud chuckle. "You seem in good spirits," he muses.

Cressida's feet touch the floor once more, tugging the end of her black coat down. "I've had a good couple of days," she answers knowingly. James arrives from the direction of the kitchen, his skates tied and hanging from his crossed arms. He doesn't stop until he's by her side, pressing a kiss against her high cheek.

"We're heading to the lake, Moony, if you brought your skates."

Remus smiles between the pair, working events out for himself. "Couldn't forget them."

The four of them yell their goodbyes to Euphemia and Fleamont, staggering out of the house like a drunken riot. Even Sirius seems content with the notion of ice-skating. As the two brothers jog ahead, pushing each other into mounds of built-up snow, Remus and Cressida follow behind at their own pace. "I meant it," he says to her. "You look really good."

"I feel better," she affirms. "I haven't talked about everything yet. I mean, I ended up screaming at Sirius and I think he felt a little sheepish afterwards and James overheard everything, but I feel like I can handle it all now. I was lying to myself when I thought I could get through everything alone, and maybe I was right in thinking that I don't need to talk through everything with everybody… But I just feel better knowing that I have you guys. It's not some secret burden that I have to hide."

"I'm glad that you've figured that out. It took me five years of therapy to learn that I can accept that help without feeling guilty." Cressida pouts her lips, wrapping her hand around his arm.

"It's this sense of not feeling like you're worth it, isn't it?" she explains. Remus nods. "But we are worth it. To them. Just like they're worth it to us."

"And you and James are…?"

"Good," she answers in the only way she knows how. "I can't tell you the future but I think we're in a good place at this moment." Her eyes drift from Remus towards the two other boys. Her stag pendant sits neatly on her bracelet, enchanted with an anti-breakage charm. James has snow in his hair. He pulls off his glasses, bending over and shakes it off like a dog. "Remus? I'm trying to find charms for the bracelet for all of us and I was wondering what you want to represent you. The others are related to our Animagus and at first, I thought of a wolf, but I want to know how you feel about that. Is there something else you think represents you better?"

She hears his intake of breath like he is about to speak, but the words don't come. Tearing her eyes away from James, she glances upwards to the tall boy's face. He has a strangely contemplative face. At first the wolf idea seemed fitting, considering that's where his nickname comes from. And the entirety of their group is so accepting of him that jokes and taunts are never insulting, but does Remus really want to have himself represented as a wolf?

"I was thinking maybe a book or chocolate bar. Not sure how easy they'll be to find, but I'm guessing easier than a sweater, which was my original idea," she continues at her friend's blank. "Though I'm sure I could find one to be custom made since I really do like the sweater idea."

"I love the idea," he breathes out. "All of them."

Cressida's lips rise in pleasure. "I'll see what I can do then."