Chapter 15: The Promise

She truly considered telling James that she is sick. That she can't go out tonight. And she told that to Sirius, who spent the next half and hour berating her and telling her to get ready.

James and Cressida fell into the habit of having a date night every second Thursday where they would do something properly romantic. So, being as cliché as he can be, James always knocks at her door on the hour to escort her.

And she really should have been watching the time because of that. The short rapping at the door is enough for her not to have to look at the clock. Cressida is bent over in her room, the door open as she tries to slide an earing into the hole. Sirius' strides towards it before she can, a sharp hiss sounding from between her teeth as the metal prong pokes her lobe.

"Prongs!" Sirius greets overly boisterously before dropping his tone. "Stop stealing my housemate."

"Pads!" James greets back just as sarcastically. "Stop stealing my girlfriend." Cressida strides out of her room, still adjusting her earring but it slides through. James is donning a white button down, the top two buttons left open, tucked into smart black pants. "See," he grins, stepping inside, "she only dresses up for me."

"Even then you're lucky I do," Cressida smirks, ruffle her hair with her fingers. "Unfortunately for me, I have a rich boyfriend who doesn't know the definition of dress down."

Sirius meanders past them, leaning in between to mutter, "But he does know the meaning of undress. Apparently redressing is the issue." He hardly sounds sour at the memory he swore scarred him. James whacks him on the chest, grinning at her the entire time.

Holding out an elbow, he licks his lips, asking, "Shall we?"

Cressida slips her arm into his. "Where are we off to tonight?"

"I'm thinking something downtown. Where we can walk after."

Xx

Cressida leans her cheek against his shoulder, focusing on the way his thumbpad runs over the back of her thumb. It feels so wrong to receive such affection, but for now she'll take it with a vice grip.

They walk along a quiet street, the streetlights spaced out enough that they have moments of walking in complete shadows. Every few moments she finds herself looking up to his face, checking to see if he's still smiling. Their stomachs are full of Italian pasta and dessert on top. Cressida accidentally flung whipped cream across the table and she had laughed so terribly loud that everyone in the restaurant sent her scathing glares as though she alone ruined their night. She didn't care. James was laughing.

Once more, she looks up to him, lip pulled between her teeth. "James?"

"You know what I've realised, you've never called me Prongs." James says it with an uneven smile, tipping his head to the side. "I think I've called you Bear a few times."

"I like your name," she answers with a melodic tune. "It's handsome."

"I like your name too. And princess. Don't I get a cute nickname?"

Cressida swings in front of him, their hands laced. She swings their arms from side to side, smirking wildly. "Would like me to call you, my stag?"

"I'll take it," he scoffs with a grin, and they lapse into laughter. "Just anywhere but in front of my Mother, for the love of Merlin." Cressida nods in agreement, her cheeks blaring at the idea itself. She stops walking backwards, waiting for James to destroy the short distance between them. "My apologise, I believe you actually had something you wanted to say to me."

Cressida nods, gulping. "I want to ask you to marry me." James becomes rigid, the only thing moving being his jaw. Cressida sucks her bottom lip to her teeth. "James, I've never not wanted to marry you. The other night, I hesitated because I thought you were going to bring up having a wedding during this war. I didn't realise you wanted to properly propose. I would have said yes. I would promise to marry you in an instant if that is what would make you happy."

His mouth makes a repetitive motion until his voice finally comes. "I-I thought you were hesitating because you weren't sure about…marrying me," he confesses in the meekest commandment of his voice that she has ever heard. "That you were having doubts."

Her head shakes viciously. "My answer to you has always been yes. I didn't even realise you wanted to propose, I thought that the first time we talked about marriage was it!"

James lets out the most incredulous yet relieved laugh. "You thought I proposed to you at the dance? With what? The chicken Sirius stole?!" He throws his head back, arms yanking her towards his chest. "My poor sweet. What on earth did I do to let you think I would ever ask you to marry me whilst surrounded by sweaty people."

Cressida laughs, her head tucked under his chin. "I don't know! My father proposed to my mother by giving her the marriage certificate. Romance isn't exactly something I grew up with." Untucking her head, she kisses his nose. "But I'm learning."

"Look, a dark street in London isn't exactly I had in mind. What I did had me on one knee in some place utterly romantic but considering you just technically proposed to me, I'm not about to say no or have a do-over."

"Does it still count even if I don't have a ring for you?"

James holds up a finger then pats himself down. With a great expression of success, he pulls out something small from his hidden pocket. "I always have it on me when I see you. I don't know why it's not in a box. I had a box! But I took it out and never put-" Cressida stares at him with wide eyes, her palms rising to his cheeks and James stares right back at her. "I'm rambling. I'm nervous. I'm excited, but I think my hands are going to start shaking and I don't want to drop this."

"I can tell."

"Should I ask you properly or-"

"Whatever you want, James." Her lips stretch so wide with unimaginable content watching James' hazel eyes fill with utter delight. She still can't put it to herself, though. She doesn't feel like he's happy because of her. He's happy because of marriage or something. But if what she is doing brings that look upon his face, she'll do it until her feet bleed.

James holds her close, pulling her left hand from his cheek. He slips the ring on then laces his fingers through hers, closing them and bringing the back of her hand up to his mouth. "Officially my fiancée."

"The judgement random people are going to give us," she sings. "Not even twenty. They'll probably think I'm knocked up or something."

"I wouldn't be upset if you're trying to tell me something."

"No," she laughs. "I would be. I have a war to fight in."

"Maybe it would give you good reason to be careful," James draws out. "Don't think I don't know how reckless you have been sometimes."

"Just keeping Death Eaters on their toes." Her finger traces down the contour of his cheek. "You don't do anything wrong. Remember that."

James squints his eyes, glancing over the top of her head. "I think ordering that dessert was the wrong choice. My gut isn't liking it." Cressida scrunched her nose, flicking his. James matches her expression, swatting her fingers away. "If this is about New Year's Eve then it's okay. I just didn't know why you left."

"I just...panicked. I saw the ring and realised why you were upset the night before. Felt like a pile of hippogriff dung for doing that to you."

James tightens his lips but widens them into a thin smile. "I have a fear of rejection if you haven't noticed. The thought of not spending my life with you is scary, Cress. It's scary."

Xx

Cressida stares at the ring, wondering how long she'll get to wear it. If she will get to wear a wedding dress. Though it is well past the stroke of midnight, she opens the door to Sirius' bedroom, looming over his sleeping figure.

"Sirius."

She shakes him sternly and he awakes with a sharp inhale. "Hey," he groans. "What's up?"

Cressida breathes through a small hole between her lips. She sits down on his bed, drawing her ankles under her. "I need you to make a promise. One that I need you to follow through with without hesitation."

"Merlin," Sirius chuckles tiredly. "Couldn't wait till morning?" He stretches his bare arms up behind his head, closing his eyes as he digs his head into his pillow. Cressida sits there, staring at him until they reopen. "Okay, it's important." He sits up, rolling his neck around. "What do you need?"

"I need you to promise me, that if something happens and you have to choose between me or James, that you're going to choose him. Every time."

Sirius furrows his brows. "What? Like you mean if you get into a fight? Cress I'm going to be on the team that I think is right." He chuckles again but her expression never wavers. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean if someone was holding us both hostage and you had the ability to save one of us, that it would be him." Her voice doesn't reveal any fear. She doesn't have any. Only fear of what would happen to James. "That if you had to only catch one of us falling it would be him."

Sirius almost shrinks into his pillow, his brows burrowing even deeper. "Cress…" He shakes his head, eyes pointing towards his lap. "I promised James that it would be you."

Cressida nods once. "I know. And I'm asking you to break that and promise me instead."

His bottom lip drops, nose flaring. "I can't."

She launches forward, grasping his forearm tightly. "Yes, you can," she hisses.

"No, Cress, I can't." Sirius nudges her out of his bed and she only follows it because he stands up with her. "Follow me." He tugs on her hand, leading her out into the main area, flicking on the light switch. Dropping her hand near the kitchen, he strides over to their small storage corner and withdraws her pensieve. The water inside never spills despite his tired pace.

Though he lets it go, the pensieve stays afloat in the air. "What are you showing me?" she demands. Sirius doesn't answer, holding his wand to his head. Its entrancing to watch the memory be pulled from it. The same wisps that sit in the glass vials under her bed. It sinks into the water, turning into a silverly cloud. With an urging gesture from Sirius, Cressida lowers her face until it is submerged.

It is like apparation without the physical sensation. The world around her reappears as something entirely different. There are music and people. People she recognises. Sirius' memory.

Cressida spins around, finding her pyjama clad Sirius standing next to her.

This is the ball. The one where Arthur poisoned her. The memory would extend to the events around him, despite not being aware of them himself. Sirius points into the dancers and Cressida finds herself dancing with James. "Why this? I don't want to watch myself get poisoned."

"Well I had to," he replies flatly. "I had to watch all of it."

James walks past them, clapping somebody on the back with a laugh as he heads to the small buffet table. She wants to watch him, but Sirius drags her over to the other side. Arthur is pouring the drink she takes.

"What's there to be curious about?"

"Why not Black?"

Her eyes stay pointed on the goblet, watching each pour.

"He all but fawns over you and I thought you were the closer two."

"That's overdramatic and presumptuous."

"Git," Sirius mutters.

Then her memory version turns around, looking for Sirius. Cressida watches as Arthur slips something from his sleeve, tipping the tiniest vial of potion into the goblet, slipping the empty thing back down before she even turns back around. She takes it with a glare.

Stupid girl.

Sirius and Cressida follow her memory version, watching her drink. Then she watches everything happen all over again. They stand just to the side as James holds the napkin to her nose. People closest start to whisper, a few even stepping back as the goblet slips from her fingers.

"Hey, hey, what is it?"

She starts to cough up the blood and Cressida looks to the real Sirius, eyes pleading. Does she really have to watch this?

"Oh shit. Ok, Remus you need to get Madam Pomfrey here. And let McGonagall know too." James snatches more napkins from Peter's hands wiping constantly at her mouth only for her to keep coughing up more. "Try to keep breathing, princess. You're going red."

She was. Cressida sees the redness on her face as she struggled more and more to breath.

"I don't get it, is she sick?"

"Fuck I don't know, Pads." Memory Cressida sways forward, James using his spare arm to lay across her chest. She blinks furiously, now paling drastically. "Sirius? Sirius, she's going to faint."

"What?"

"She's going to faint!" The Sirius next to her grips the back of her sleeve as her memory version collapses forward, landing in James' arms. Sirius has leaped forward, holding the rest of her body up. "Cress? Cressida please!"

James' cry is enough to make her want to leave, her mind comprehending that this actually happened, even if she hadn't been awake to know it. "Sirius," she pleas, but he only stares at the scene, unmoving.

Her body is lain on the floor. Blood stains her mouth, still trickling from her nose but the flow has substantially slowed. James is the one near her head, his bloody hands grasping on either side of her face. "Wake up. Wake up." Sirius' eyes are running up and down her body, kneeling by her side and his hands ghosting over her.

"Out of my way!" McGonagall comes dashing through, falling to her knees beside Sirius. "What happened?"

James shakes his head, panic stricken. "I-I don't know."

"She had a nosebleed," Sirius explains, "then she started coughing up blood too. Can't you help her?!"

"Not without knowing what exactly I am trying to help!"

James' hands move to her shoulders, shaking them. "Cressida!" he cries through clenched teeth. His cheeks glisten, trying his best to rouse her awake. Students gather around the scene, but she doesn't take her eyes off James.

Her memory version has a sudden convulsion in her chest and neck, spluttering up blood across her lips. "She can't breathe!" Sirius howls. They tip her onto her side, a new pool of blood pouring from her mouth that had been sitting in her throat. James beings truly crying, his own chest heaving as though completely out of air. He pulls her hair back, holding her shoulder steady so she stays on her side.

Current Sirius leans closer to her ear. "McGonagall managed to stop you from bleeding." The witch pulls her wand, casting a spell that Cressida can't recall from any book. "Didn't stop anything but you choking on it." She calls for another teacher, telling him to fetch Professor Dumbledore.

Cressida's body is rolled back onto her back. James looks to Sirius, his mouth pulled tight and red splotches around his eyes. "She's not waking up." It isn't a yell or a cry. It's a plea. A plea for help. And it's clear that Sirius had no idea what to do. And no idea how to respond. "Pads, I don't think she's breathing. I don't know what to do."

Sirius skids past McGonagall, almost sending her to the floor and places his ear close to her face. He rises once more, looking up and down her body again. While McGonagall tries her luck at magic, Sirius formulates a very Muggle approach. "Chest," he hisses out. "I need to press on her chest."

He clasps his hands together, shuffling them around, trying to guess the right way for compressions. She doesn't know where he even learnt about it. James bends over her, touching his forehead to hers.

Remus appears, his body running straight through Sirius' ghostly form, Pomfrey only a few steps behind. She looks so close to death; still, unbreathing. "Remus," Sirius whimpers, "I don't know how."

Remus nods feverishly, taking his place. "I can."

He kneels down next to her chest, forming his hands into the correct position as Pomfrey fusses about trying to figure out what exactly is happening.

"I think that's enough."

His hand slips down to hers and suddenly the scene in front of her evaporates back into clouds. Cressida reaches out towards James, failure creeping on her for not being able to comfort him despite it being quite literally impossible. Her face lifts from the pensieve, stumbling back.

"Do you see why I can't?" Sirius questions, standing tall. He points to the pensieve, his lips pressing hard against his teeth. "I can't watch him go through that again. He'd rather die than watch you suffer."

Cressida stands taller, shoving a finger in her own chest. "And what about me!" she demands. "You think that I'll just be dandy if he dies in my place?! Sirius, it would kill me if he died." Her hands form fists, thumb squeezed to her palm. "We both know that either one of us dying would hurt the other, so let's eliminate that as a factor. What about after? James would be able to move on."

Sirius cocks his head, ready to argue but she presses on.

"You know it as well as I do! He has support to keep moving on. He would move on, fall in love with someone else! It would hurt at first, but he would just keep going because that's what James does."

"I think you're seriously misjudging his love for you," Sirius bellows. "It's not some stupid teenager love. You don't get that this is the choice he made because he wants to protect you."

"He would die for nothing," Cressida declares, laying what she has on the table. "James would move on. I can't do that. I know I can't. His death would ruin me. The only thing keeping me from jumping out that window right now is him."

Sirius black eyes widen, darting one of the large arched windows.

"I'm broken. Not cracked, broken. So if you decide to save me over James, then you're killing the both of us."

Her voice is steady and venomous. And Sirius hears every word. His shoulders gradually sink, his eyes glossing over. "You had everyone believing," he whispers, sounding distant. "Even me. Believing that when I found you on the Astronomy Tower, you were just thinking." Sirius runs his tongue over his lip. "What were you thinking about?"

Cressida holds her jaw steady. "Promise me."