A little cringey, I won't lie.
Chapter 46: Arthur
"You look like a goddess," Cressida gapes as Marlene reveals her perfectly fitting dress. It's a deep, royal red with a frilled lining over the shoulders and chest. "I am genuinely attracted to you right now."
Marlene grins, shrivelling her nose in faux modesty. "And what would James think about that?"
"He'd probably be too busy staring at you as well," Cressida laughs off easily. All the boys and girls would be. Marlene rolls her eyes, spinning around to face the mirror. Lily and Mary are donning similar styled dresses. They are all floor length with a loose bottom and short sleeves. Where Lily has a gorgeous pale pink and frilled sleeves, Mary has a strong purple and more satin-like material.
Cressida has her dress lain out, ready to be put on but she focuses on getting her hair done right since she can zip the dress up the back easily unlike the others. It is a beautiful blue that reminds her of an early night's sky. Styled A-line, with the fabric crisscrossing in the top part with beautiful short sleeves that are loose and would sway freely over her skin. Part of the sleeves and the underskirt are embellished with jewels that only add to its resemblance to a night sky.
Taking it to the bathroom, it only takes a few seconds to put on and the zip goes up easy enough to do so herself. A smile grows as she checks herself over in the mirror, brushing a strand of hair back into place over her shoulder. Her hair is kept simple and down, filled with loose waves that came from braiding her hair loosely overnight and her makeup only accentuates what is already there, leaving the main attention to the dress. Euphemia had truly chosen something beautiful. Having no desire for the girls' impressions, knowing it would only make her nervous and flustered, Cressida pushes the bathroom door open, stating, "I'll see you lot down there," and continues towards the dorm door and onto the staircase. She barely hears a cry from Mary in protest before the click of the lock renders her silent.
Cressida grips the railing, near leaping down the stairs. The Tower is filled with students, both formally dressed, and the younger ones who are simply watching them with envy. Her boys are already waiting near the lounge. Remus and Peter have taken the large seat, Sirius and James leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. "Apologies for the wait," Cressida smiles, calling to them from the stairs. "Couldn't get a hold of the bathroom."
Remus pokes his head over the top of the seat, his lips spreading in a boyish smile. "You look pretty," he says with a child-like tone. Laughing, she strides up to him, pressing a light kiss to his forehead so her lipstick wouldn't rub off on him.
"Thank you, handsome." She glances to the side where Peter is contently smiling at her. "You look handsome too, Pete."
He chuckles quietly, glancing down at his grey suit. "Thanks."
Cressida nods in acknowledgement, looking to her other two boys next. Sirius is wearing a full suit of black and white, extremely well-fitted. He's opted for a bowtie. The only thing not neat about him is his hair which is devilishly ruffled. "A suit looks good on you," she muses with a slight huff of disbelief.
Sirius smiles from the corner of his mouth. "I look good in anything. And nothing."
Cressida nods in acceptance. "Wouldn't be complete talking to Sirius Black without one innuendo." Next she looks to James. Like Sirius, he's chosen for a black and white outfit, only he is suited in a white undershirt and a slightly lighter shade of black, that is closer to a very dark grey, vest and pants. In his breast pocket is one of those stupid napkins that she never learnt the name of. Each button down the front is a brilliant gold, matching his watch. At his slightly insulted look of being addressed last, Cressida smiles broadly. "Always save the best to last."
"I'm sure," he mutters before breaking character and grinning at her. She hears Remus mutter something about being the worst since he was addressed first. Pushing off the wall, his hands settle on her waist. "You look beyond ethereal."
"Do you even know what that means?" she goads. James' mouth drops open, head cocking to the side. "Sorry," she laughs shortly. "I don't know how to handle sappy moments. Especially with people around." Swallowing her sense of being watched, she gathers the back of his head in her hands and brings him down to her lips. "It feels like you don't even need to dress up for the occasion. You look like you always do."
"That's the third time you've insulted me in two minutes," he laughs with wide eyes.
"No, no," Cressida laughs, pulling him to her and burying her head in his shoulder. "I meant that you always look amazing. I told you, I don't know what to do in these situations. My brain gets fuzzy."
James laughs freely, wrapping his arms around her back, swaying from side to side. "I'm only teasing you." Cressida hums into his skin, still buried before realising she could ruin her makeup by doing so. "And I'd just like to point out that I was planning on bringing you flowers, but then realised that'd you would feel obligated to keep them alive as long as possible. Then you would inevitably cry after one day when you kill them with your cursed fingers."
"Honestly not buying me flowers is a gift in itself." With a coy, yet excited smile, she glances over her shoulder at everybody else. "Are we going?" Remus and Peter lift from the lounge, rubbing their hands together, and as one group, leave the Tower.
They are rather early, the Ball room filled with teachers and students without dates but that is of little concern. Music plays that is neither slow nor fast. A rather enjoyable pace that could keep one dancing for hours without tiring to exhaustion. A large buffet of food is ready and Cressida can't help but eye it off, already desiring to eat to her heart's content. But she'll wait till later, in the case of dropping food on her dress which would be better done later in the night after she can use the excuse of someone bumping into her.
The five of them wander the ballroom, taking in the slivery decorations that is weaved perfectly with the natural, gothic styled castle. As more and more students arrive, the five begin to mingle outside of their group, knowing that this may be the last time they talk to the classmates they've had for seven years. Though James is her date, they each make their own way around, knowing they'd reunite shortly.
"Tell me," Heffler drawls, leaning against a vine-wrapped column, "was I right about you and Potter last year? What happened when you went up to his bedroom?"
Cressida's bottom lip wraps over her teeth as she gapes with a wide mouth at him, scoffing loudly. "You were not," she corrects both firmly and mirthfully. "You deserved that punch." Heffler shrivels his nose, rubbing his cheek and they both laugh. "It was complicated," she admits, "and you only made it worse."
"Yet look at you both now," he says, cheering to her with his pumpkin-juice-filled goblet. "I'd like to say it was my doing."
Cressida can only roll her eyes, pretending to look around for someone else of interest. "Quidditch practice got funner without you."
"Funner? That's not a word."
Sighing, she takes a sip from her own goblet. "Sirius has got me saying it now. Completely undermined the insult, didn't it?"
His lips twist around in faux regret. "Unfortunately, when you sound like a toddler, they just don't hit the same." She makes a snapping motion with her fingers, muttering a curse. They chat for a while longer before moving on. Cressida reunites with Remus, taking the opportunity to drag him towards the dance floor. Neither of them allow any insecurities to hold them back, dancing like there is nobody watching. Both with great knowledge of the Muggle world, they make their own fun by performing incredibly horrid dance moves, most notably the Shimmy and the Swimmer. Their laughter is drowned out by music and other students.
Cressida does, in fact, find out there are eyes watching when she spots Sirius and James standing together, watching the pair with bemused wonder from afar, whispering to each other. Cressida laughs so hard the sound becomes silent, knocking Remus' shoulder. He stops cranking his elbow and knee, looking to where she is pointing before nearly falling to the floor himself. They leave the dancefloor in a fit of giggles but as soon as they approach the boys, they turn around.
"We don't know them!" Sirius declares, holding up his hands with his back towards them.
"Stranger danger! Stranger danger!" James cries. She grabs both their collars from behind, tugging them back to her. "When we get married, I'm going to teach you how to dance."
"That was dancing!" she gasps. Glancing at Remus, she adds, "Wait till he sees the Watusi." Remus grins, throwing his head back.
"The what now?"
Cressida shrugs at James. "Looks like we can't get married then. This is how Muggles dance, and I am a Muggle."
James sucks his lips to his teeth, turning his head to the side. "If that's the price to pay," he hisses. He holds out a hand to her. "Teach me the Watusi."
"No, Prongs!" Sirius cries theatrically. "Don't let her do this to you!"
Cressida grins evilly at Sirius as she takes James' hand, dragging him towards the dancefloor. Sirius' voice drowns out with distance. Once in the middle, she grabs his other hand and dances naturally and simply. "Don't worry, I'm not going to mortify you."
"Please, I don't care," he chuckles. "If that's how you want to dance, whether tonight or on our wedding, then I'll dance all night with you."
"You seem very confident about the idea of marriage."
"Aren't you?"
"Depends," she answers honestly. James' brows twitch in a sudden rush of uncertainty. "I'm confident about us, just not the current situation of our world," she amends. "I'm not sure a wedding will feel right until the war is over."
"We don't know how long it is going to last."
"Or how long we are." Cressida regrets her words as soon as they come. The notion of death is never a happy topic to bring up. "I want to marry you."
"If I haven't made it clear enough already, I want to marry you too."
Cressida smiles to both him and herself, slowly reaching up to wind her arms around his neck. His arms wind around her waist in return, resting his cheek against her head. Cressida stares at her silver bracelet, twisting around the stag charm. "I love you."
His arms tighten considerably, the backs of her feet lifting from the ground. "Still feels like a dream when you say it. I love you too."
"It still feels like a dream to be able to say it and have you know how much I truly mean it."
"I've always meant it. From the first time you said it to me when we were supposed to be going to the library to get Remus a book on the full moon, to tonight. I'll mean it until the very end."
"The very end of what?"
"Death. Whatever comes after death."
"Well, if we get reincarnated and you don't love me anymore-" She cuts herself short, joining in on his laughter. They dance alone for a while longer, at peace with everything around them. She would dance with Sirius next, already planning the rest of the night in her mind. They would stop for a proper food break at the tables, and then maybe she'd convince a shy Peter to come out.
Once they feel in need of a rest, James and Cressida leave the dance floor. "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want anything?"
"I'm fine, I'll go grab a small plate of food to share. Want anything in particular?"
Cressida smiles innocently. "I saw some chicken."
James nods with a humoured smile. "I'll be sure to grab some."
She doesn't turn away until he leaves her sights completely, then turns to make her way to the drinks table which is placed conveniently close to the dance area whilst the food is closer to the tables. Her eyes set on the pumpkin juice bowl, lined with clean goblets along a pristine white tablecloth.
"That was a sweet show."
Her naturally placed smile drops at the sound of his voice alone. McMullen seems to have already been standing near the drinks. He picks up an empty goblet, taking his time to use the ladle to pour it in.
"I'm not jealous or anything," he laughs, still pouring one scoop after the other. Cressida stands still, watching him. "More so curious."
"What's there to be curious about?" Why is she even bothering to entertain him?
"Why not Black?" he questions, eyes pointed at the drink that is still in the making. "He all but fawns over you and I thought you were the closer two."
"That's overdramatic and presumptuous."
Cressida looks over her shoulder, glancing around for the said boy just in wonder to where he might be in hopes that he is carefully watching the interaction, but she cannot see him from her position with the dancers in her way. Looking back to Arthur, her glare drops to his outstretched hand that holds the goblet. "There, that's what you wanted, isn't it?"
He shoves it towards her even more so, forcing her to take it lest she winds up with pumpkin juice down the front of her dress. "I can get my own."
Arthur shrugs. "I don't like pumpkin juice anyway."
"Then why did you-" She doesn't bother finishing the rest of her question as he has already disappeared into the sea of dancers. Her nose flares, glancing down at the drink, but there is no point in making another. "Weirdo."
Bringing it to her lips, she takes a generous sip to quench her dance-induced thirst and begins making her way over to the food area. She carefully watches the drink, shielding herself from bumps of unwary students.
A weird sensation runs between her ribs. It's odd to explain other than the feeling of someone physically pinching a tube and running their fingers down it. Dismissing it as her stomachs way of telling her it hasn't settled from moving so much, she holds herself from taking another drink for the moment.
It takes her a while to find James, and every second longer, the feeling only grows more apparent. Her unoccupied hand lifts to her stomach, thumb pressing into her skin, rubbing gently. The night is barely half-way through. Please don't let her be sick tonight.
She finally finds James with Remus, Peter and Sirius, standing near the edge of the main floor but away from the tables and chairs where she had been first searching. From the looks of it, Sirius has stolen his plate of food for himself, munching away on her chicken.
Her pace slows on her approach, her mind growing continuously occupied with the feeling that is beginning to overwhelm her entirely. An uncomfortable warmth encapsulates her head and neck, travelling down her spine.
"Cress?" Her eyes flutter up from their shoes to James' face, blinking slowly. "You alright?" Slowly, she nods. "Do you want to sit down?" She shakes her head. "No, you're not alright, you have a nosebleed."
Her fingers lift to her nose where the sensation of wetness comes from. Her fingertips coat in red. James winces, pulling out the napkin cloth from his breast pocket.
"Over danced?" Sirius guesses as James cups her chin, patting the cloth under her nose.
"That doesn't cause nosebleeds," Remus argues. "Can you go get some napkins, Peter?" The mouse-boy nods his head, scampering off somewhere past her line of vision. "Don't want to ruin your dress," he says to her.
"It's getting worse," James mutters, adjusting the cloth to cover both nostrils. Cressida grips his shirt near his elbows, the sensation inside of her only building. Sirius peers over from his right.
"Oh shit," he mumbles. "That's pretty bad. You look like you got hit by a Bludger."
Blood pools through her nose, the cloth becoming a horrid, sticky feeling against her skin and impossible to breathe through it. He pulls it away to adjust it to a cleaner patch, but the swift movement allows streams of heavy blood to pour over her lips and down onto her floor. She doesn't even want to check to see if it is staining her dress.
"Sorry," James hisses, answering that wonder anyway. "Cress, you can hear me, right?" She nods meekly. "Do you know why this is happening?"
No. No, she doesn't. It has to have something to do with the feeling of something wrong inside of her.
Then it hits her like a tidal wave.
Her fingers release the goblet. The metal clangs loud against the stone ground, its contents splashing out and pooling on the stone. For nobody else to drink. Arthur. Panic swells inside her, building her breathing. But with that, she becomes more aware of the growing pool of blood inside her mouth.
"Hey, hey, what is it?" Sirius questions quickly, stepping to her side and laying a hand over her back.
She can't answer. She tries to hold the blood inside her mouth, gathering to will to swallow it, but once the warm, metallic taste hits the back of her throat, Cressida can't hold her cough. Blood splatters over her lips and down below, covering even more of her skin and dress in the dark liquid.
"Oh shit," James whispers, mimicking Sirius with considerably more panic. "Ok, Remus, you need to get Madam Pomfrey here. And let McGonagall know too." With Sirius' encouragement, she's pushed to bend forward, her loose hair being pulled back from hanging over her shoulders. The coughing doesn't stop as more and more blood fills her mouth with each attempt to empty it. James snatches napkins out of Peter's hand once he returns, fervently trying to keep her mouth clear. "Try to keep breathing, princess. You're going red." It became harder, liquid filling into the cavities of her lungs.
"I don't get it, is she sick?" Sirius demands. "She's not allergic to anything."
James answers him but her ears don't pick up the answer. The world fades in and out, blackness creeping from the edges of her eyes and emerged in a sudden feeling of disconnection. Her eyes blink fast, unfocused and drifting. She sways forward.
"Sirius? Sirius, she's going to faint."
"What?"
"She's going to faint!"
And she does. Her body tips forward, face landing into James' arms, but Sirius' hooked arms catch from her behind.
"Cress? Princess. Please, eyes open for me-"
And the last thing she feels is her knees pressing into the ground, completely unconscious before she's even lain on the floor.