Chapter 32: News

Sirius groggily awakens, his feet dragging across the floor as he pulls his door open. Cressida smiles at him, shovelling food onto two different plates. "Morning."

Sirius stares at her with disgust. "It's seven am."

Cressida nods once. "I know. And I should probably go tell my fiancé that I'm home after being away for three months. But I know you're terrible in the kitchen so I thought I should at least make you a decent breakfast since there's nothing other than eggs, bacon, toast and cereal in this house. Is that all you've been eating?"

"And pasta."

"And pasta," she adds with a laugh. She's glad that her instinct took her home first and not to James' doorstep. It gave her the night to gather herself. The events of the previous day still linger heavily in her mind, but she forces herself to keep moving forward, letting the mourning process take a backseat. There is probably more to come. "You have a bad dream again?"

He nods stiffly, rubbing his eyes.

Sirius sits on the opposite side of the island bench, dragging his plate across. Cressida smiles again at him, pushing a fork along the bench. "Can we talk before you go? There's probably a few things I should catch you up on."

Her smile morphs into something more hesitantly curious. "Sure. It's been a while. You said you had some good news and some not good news."

Sirius nods stiffly. "What do you want to hear first?"

"Good news. I could use it."

He breaks out into a single, airy chuckle. "I suppose it's more good news for me, but I'm guessing you'll be happy."

Cressida goes back to her easy grin, leaning on her elbows, her own fork prongs stabbing thin slices of meat. "If it's good for you, it's good for me."

Sirius nods to himself. He swallows, pausing in his attempts at breakfast. "I, uh, went on date, actually. Two." His black eyes stare at her, waiting for the reaction.

Cressida nearly drops her fork, eyes growing wide. "You went on a date?" she cries. "Like, a proper romantic with the right amount of sexual tension, date? And two? With the same person? Are you still talking? Where did you go? Did you-"

"Slow down woman," Sirius laughs, hiding his smile behind his hand.

"You've never been on a date before so forgive me if I'm a little interested!"

He resumes eating she guesses to distract both himself and her from his growing blush. "They were…good. At least I thought they were." Cressida waits for more information, but Sirius continues eating until she makes a waving gesture, and he laughs again, turning his head off to the side before speaking once more. "It was with Remus."

Cressida freezes. Remus? As in her friend Remus? Of course, there was very little chance of running into another person named Remus in this day and age. But if Sirius went on a date with Remus, that would mean that Remus would be gay. Or both, he could like both. "Are you sure Remus knew it was a date?" is the first thing she says after a minute of silence. At the first realisation of what she's said, her eyes widen, praying that Sirius doesn't take offence to the accusation, but she is only met with a bout of snorting laughter.

"I would assume so," he says. "Considering we kissed more than a few times."

Her fork clatters against the bench, the hand holding as well as her other, reaching out to the sides. "Am I… the worst friend ever for not realising that you found each other attractive? Like, I think it should be something I would have picked up on if I took a moment to notice."

"No, I think you're just the same oblivious Cressida you've always been," he smiles. She mockingly narrows her eyes, picking up her fork once more. "Do me a favour though and not go around telling people. Remus hasn't exactly talked to people yet."

"Solemnly swear." With a sigh, she smiles grimly. "Now the bad news?"

Sirius places his fork down again with delicate grace. "It's sort of a two-parter." Cressida takes the hint. Something in her stomach curdles just at his solemn tone. "James has been upset with me since you left. I tried talking to him, but he flat out refuses to listen." Her heart sinks. James and Sirius are brothers, and she can see how much it hurts him to not have James. Just in the way his eyes flicker around uncomfortably. "I don't want you to be upset with me, but I didn't know what else I could have done."

Cressida shakes her head. "I don't care. If you were trying to fix things with James, then I would want you to do everything you could."

"It didn't even really fix things. I think it made them worse, really." Sirius pushes his half-eaten plate to the side, folding his arms steadily across the bench. "I wanted him to understand that I wasn't supporting you going to get at him or something but because I thought it was the best thing for you. And I have a very different view now – and you still have to explain what you were really up to." She nods in a silent promise. "I told James what you had told me. Almost everything."

Cressida blinks. No anger fills her, only remorse that it didn't come from her own mouth. "What's almost? What haven't you told him?"

"That you want me to save him over you. I couldn't. I'm truly sorry, Cress. I thought he would understand what I was thinking."

"He didn't?" she guessed.

Sirius shakes his head and with a bitter laugh, says, "I think it made him hate me more. First thing he did was vomit on my shoes then proceeded to stun me until I was out of his home. He told me that if you were to die, it would be entirely my fault."

Cressida bows her head with a long breath. She pushes her own plate aside then leans as far forward as she can. "Sirius. The only way my death would be your fault is if you were the one to use the killing curse with full intention and the self-consciousness to decide that. And if that event ever came to pass, I don't think it would have been your decision." Sirius offers her a weak smile, the hope for his friendship to be rebuilt dwindling. "You said it was a two-parter."

"Yeah," he whispers. His black eyes are glossy and empty. "Cress, Euphemia and Fleamont died about a month ago. Dragon-pox."

The breakfast that she had managed to eat churns in her stomach, rising well into the heights of her throat. "Wh-why didn't you tell me?" James' parents. Her and Sirius' second family. The people that sheltered and fed her, who offered her a home before she even could ask. There's no warning for the tears that spring to her eyes.

"When?" he breathes out. "Yesterday? I wouldn't be telling you now if I could have helped it."

"When would you have told me then?!"

"After you had time to properly process three other deaths."

"Did you not think I would want to go see James straight away?"

"I thought… I don't know."

Cressida rakes her fingers through her head, going to clean up her breakfast before shaking her head and stepping away from it. He could clear it if he wanted to. "I need to go now. Merlin, I should have gone last night." Snatching her bag from the hanging hook, Cressida barely manages to remember to slip on shoes before she's out the door and counting down the steps until she can apparate.

"Four. Three. Two… One."

With a pop, she disappears from the quiet street.

Cressida marches towards the Potter mansion. It looks desolate and empty even from the outside. The grey sky doesn't do it any better. She barges through the gate, the metal creaking and clanging against the large fence. The garden still looks tended to, even if a little overgrown. With every step, she works faster and harder.

The double oak doors of the Potter home break apart, revealing a well-known entrance hall and the figure of a person she could recognise under an Invisibility Cloak. James doesn't stop at the doors, ignoring the short set of stairs that lead off the small porch and jumps over a hedge lining.

Her shoulders sag, the bag slipping from them. "James!" Her arms open wide before he's even close to her, but the gap diminishes within seconds. Her messy, raven-haired man with crooked glasses nearly trips over a rock but nothing stops him in his expedition to her.

Suddenly once more, her nose is filled with the scent of something sweet like butterbeer and wood oil and his hair tickles her nose. The feeling of his hands upon her skin fills her with nothing but warmness and home. Her toes barely touch the ground, arms thrown over his neck as his own continuously readjust as though he can't decide where to hold her. Everywhere was a fine answer.

"Just one more day," his voice croaks. Cressida lifts her face from his neck, her chest heaving with uncontrolled breaths. James' brows press together in the same manner as his lip as he looks down at her with adoration. "I told myself every day that it was just one more day. One more day and you'd be back."

Cressida smiles, one arm still hooked around his neck, the other brushing back through his curls. "Did you say it yesterday?" she whispers. James nods with a jammed laugh. "Then you were right, weren't you?" He nods again with more vigour as they both try not to cry. Her hand drops down to his face, then his chest and back up against. Her lips curl together against her will. "It feels a little bit like a dream," she chokes out. James only grins widely, bringing her into a heated kiss. Cressida falls right into it, trying to remember if it felt that invigorating last time until she yelps and pulls away from him. James smirks slyly. "You bite my lip."

"I'm proving it's not a dream." He dives into with another short kiss but pulls away again within a second. "You've gotta pinch me now because I'm doubting that I'm awake as well."

Cressida leans up to kiss him again while her fingers curve around to the back of his neck. While distracted, she pinches lightly. He twitches but doesn't pull away as she had, only tightening his hold.

It feels like they fall into a bubble where time doesn't exist. There's no energy for her to run out of, nor a lack of desire. It isn't until they're forced away to regain their breathes that she gains any sense of the reality around them. James pants, his eyes dropping between them. "You're still in your pyjama's, love."

Cressida simply shrugs. "So are you."

He hums, leaning his forehead against her. "Yes, but I'm at my own home."

"I thought it was mine too. After all, I do have a key and spend a lot of my time here."

James kisses each of her cheeks, not lifting his forehead. "I suppose you are very much right."

Cressida exhales slowly, letting herself slump forward against his chest. "We have a lot to talk about. The both of us."

His hand softly strokes the small of her back. The thrill of the reunion dwindling as they bring back to their minds the bleakness of their troubles. "Let's have some tea first."