Soldiers by dominiqueweasley
Chapter Notes: Cedrella is off to Hogwarts again without much trouble - but what she finds when she returns ends up being anything but what she expected.
Standing in the sun smoking quiet cigarettes
Just before I let you down
Funny how a heart shatters all at once
Seems like it should make a sound
Monday come like Tuesday
You were something else, I will admit
I remember what you told me
Only wish I could forget
Only wish I could forget
Too much to ask, for just one kiss
You'll never know what I will miss
Guess I'm getting old wandering this way
Wondering what's wrong and right
You try to move along but the traffic holds you still
Or did I lose the will to fight?
Monday come like Tuesday
You were something else, I will admit
I remember what you told me
Only wish I could forget
Only wish I could forget
-The Weepies
In what Cedrella thought was a strange act of mercy, her father allowed her to decline her invitation to the Selwyns’ Summer Ball at the end of August. This meant, of course, that she had to spend the evening on a private date with Caspar instead, but she honestly didn’t mind sipping wine and allowing one of his monologues about work to slip through one ear and out the other when the alternative was a public appearance and socializing with the despicable Selwyns. She was not sure she could haven handled having to be civil to Rodney, which she suspected was a difficultly her father had foreseen and had contributed to his decision to let her skip the party. Charis, too, had been surprisingly unconcerned that Cedrella was not going, saying simply to “enjoy your romantic dinner!” as Cedrella finished doing her hair and she pranced from the room to go meet Lucifer. Cedrella had watched her go a bit sadly. Despite the fact that Charis was considered to be an engaged woman now, Cedrella still thought that her fifteen-year-old sister looked and acted like a child playing dress-up in her grown up robes.
Cedrella fretted about her sister and wondered what Septimus was doing in Africa for most of the dinner, allowing Caspar to do the talking. It was easier that way”she didn’t have to think, and he was still under the impression that they were having a conversation and getting to know one another better. After they finished dessert they walked along the river for a while in the warm summer air, Cedrella relishing the feel of the wind and the smells of the city and ignoring Caspar’s hand in hers. And when they returned to Château Noir, where the flowers he had brought her at the beginning of the night still lay on the desk in the foyer and many of the gas lamps were dimmed, she permitted him to give her a chaste kiss on the lips, holding as still as she possibly could and closing her eyes and pretending that it wasn’t happening. It almost worked. When Caspar finally left, Cedrella put the roses in a vase of water, left them out for her mother to see, and went to take a long bath, washing the evening away.
**
Her parents hosted a big dinner party with the Malfoys (who had just returned with Charis from the Quidditch World Cup in Norway), the Crouches, and Callidora and her husband, the Longbottoms, two nights later as a “send-off” for her and Charis. As she had so many times that summer, Cedrella simply sat in her chair, trying to pretend she was not there. She was good at being invisible; given all the practice she’d had. There were many goodbyes that night, with the Crouches expressing how sorry they were that they wouldn’t see her until Christmas. Like you actually care, she thought, submitting to a kiss on the cheek from Mrs. Crouch and handshakes from the men. Luckily, Caspar didn’t try to kiss her again in front of their parents.
The next morning she awoke much earlier than usual and, like the previous year, triple-checked her trunk and her room for anything she had forgotten. As she had expected there was nothing, so after dressing (to her great relief) in her impeccably pressed Hogwarts robes and pinning her new, silver Head Girl badge to her chest, she sat beside her window, watching the pearly grey dawn.
She could not help thinking back to this time, last year. She had been overjoyed to get out of the house, relieved to be going back to the one place where she was left alone to do as she liked. She had been excited to see the owls and commence her serious research. She had been a little bit worried about Charis and a little bit sad that this was her second to last year… They all seemed to her now like such shallow emotions. She had been so naïve. So unprepared. The girl that had sat here a year ago had no idea what it meant to have a true friend, or what it meant to be in love. She had never really cried, she had never really been angry, and she had never really lost anything. And yet she had been full of hope and possibility. Staring out at the sunrise now, Cedrella didn’t feel full of anything except bitterness, longing, and cold determination. I’m never going to forget, she promised herself. I’m never going to forget that I’m worth something. I’m never going to forget that someone loved me. I’m never going to forget that I loved them back. But no matter what she told herself, she wished more than anything that morning that she could go back to the naive girl she had been and get a chance to do it all over again.
Charis came to her room, dressed and dragging her trunk, and opened the door without knocking. “Cedrella, are you up? It’s almost time to”oh.”
“Knock next time, please,” Cedrella said, getting up slowly from her seat at the window.
“Right,” Charis said, sitting down on the perfectly made bed.
It was not lost on Cedrella that her sister had not apologized, but for once she didn’t press the point. “Are you all packed then? No important books left behind at the expense of extra hair potions or a pair of bookends?”
“Yes, I’m packed, and no, I didn’t bring the bookends,” Charis said, voice amused. “What about you, Miss Head Girl? Ready to go?”
“Readier than I’ve ever been,” Cedrella said fervently. It was true”as she felt she had proven by the amount of time she had willingly spent in Caspar’s company this summer, she would do anything to get out of Château Noir and her father’s supervision. Even though Hogwarts felt like less of an escape and more of a delay of the inevitable, Cedrella had never been more desperate to get back.
“Won’t you miss Caspar, though?” Charis was saying. “I mean, I suppose he can come visit you on Hogsmeade weekends and things, but haven’t the two of you gotten quite close this summer? I know you were initially a brat to him and all, but you’ve been going over there quite often…”
“Anywhere was better than here this summer,” Cedrella said. “You’d think so too, Charis, if you spent three straight weeks in your bedroom.”
“That was your own fault,” Charis said, shrugging.
Cedrella glared at her sister. “Do you really want to talk about whose fault that was?”
Charis quailed under her gaze. “No.”
“I thought not,” Cedrella said. “Anyway, to answer your question, no, I’m not going to miss Caspar at all. We’ll have plenty of time too see each other after we’re married. Now let’s go have breakfast, it’s nearly nine.”
Charis sighed, getting up from her perch on the bed. “I suppose that’s true, but I’m still glad Lucifer has another year left. I would miss him dreadfully if we had to spend a whole year apart! This way works perfectly, we’ll both be done at the same time…”
“Providing you leave Hogwarts after your O.W.Ls, which might I remind you has not been decided yet,” Cedrella said sharply, ushering her sister out and closing her bedroom door without a backwards glance.
“Oh please,” Charis said. “You practically had to beg to get to stay, there’s no chance Father would make me take N.E.W.Ts if I didn’t want to.” She snapped her fingers for the house elves, who appeared and began to maneuver the trunks down the stairs.
“I’ll do that, Kiko,” Cedrella said, taking hers back from the startled elf and dragging it down the stairs. “Listen, Charis,” she added over her shoulder to her sister. “I don’t think you should rule it out so soon. Father would probably let you finish if you told him you wanted to.”
“But I’ve just said, I don’t want to,” Charis answered. “Honestly, Cedrella, what’s the point?”
“The point is that you’re actually rather intelligent when you put your mind to it,” Cedrella said, “and you should take the opportunity to finish your education while you have it. Lucifer isn’t going anywhere, you will still get to marry him the summer you turn seventeen.”
“But if I’m going to marry Lucifer when I’m seventeen, why would I ever need N.E.W.Ts? I’ll already be Charis Malfoy nee Black, I don’t need any more clout than that.”
“You don’t need it,” Cedrella snapped, “but I’m saying you should want it.”
“I should want it? You can’t play the ‘I know best’ card this time, Cedrella. You’re the abnormal one in this, not me.” Charis opened the door to the dining room and seated herself at the table beside their mother, effectively ending the argument.
Cedrella sat down in one of the hard wooden chairs next to her sister and leaned over on the pretext of picking up the cream pitcher. “This conversation isn’t over,” she hissed in her sister’s ear.
Charis shot her an exasperated look that said quite plainly I’m sure it’s not.
Cedrella gave her a sharp nod and returned to her tea with a sigh. She wasn’t particularly hungry. It was just so very frustrating, after how carefully (well, for the most part) she had watched over her sister, kept her safe, saved her from making mistakes, that Charis was so eager to get married and throw away the rest of her time at Hogwarts. Cedrella knew they were very different”she had always known it. But she was so used to Charis following her lead in every way, and she had always thought and hoped that her sister would understand that there was more to life than getting married, and that Hogwarts offered that. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, she thought bitterly. It’s not like I haven’t been grooming her for this all her life anyway. But what else was I supposed to do? I wanted her to be safe, I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to succeed.
She has, another voice in her head spoke up. according to the Purebloods, anyway. According to Father. Cedrella sat back in her seat, unable to eat another bite. If she had succeeded, why did it feel like such a failure?
**
Cedrella found herself, once more, sitting alone on the Hogwarts Express. She had kept the Prefect meeting short, having already drawn up a patrol schedule and copied it out six times over the summer, one for each house and one for herself and the Head Boy, a Ravenclaw named Vladimir Dearborn. The two of them discussed logistics for a few minutes after they sent the Prefects on their way, planning a weekly meeting on Tuesday evenings. Dearborn seemed like he was going to be a decent Head Boy to Cedrella”he was a friendly, cheerful fellow with blonde hair and a pointed nose who she vaguely knew from several of her N.E.W.T classes. She was pretty sure he was a Half-blood, but contrary to what she had written to her father the previous spring, she didn’t care. She knew she wasn’t the most well liked person at Hogwarts, so she was pleased that Dearborn had the charismatic side of the Headship covered. He had left to join his friends, asking her haltingly if she was coming or not.
“No, I’ll just stay here,” Cedrella had said, and looking slightly perplexed he had nodded and left. She sighed, settling herself against the familiar seat of the Prefect’s compartment and turning to watch the countryside speed by through the windows, relaxing into the comforting motion of the scarlet train. Chug chug, chug chug. Come home, come home.
I’m coming, Cedrella thought. For the last time, perhaps, but I’m on my way. She closed her eyes, listening to the train, trying to clear her mind of thoughts of Charis and Septimus and everything that was going to be different about this year.
She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew she was opening her eyes, disoriented, to the sound of a timid knocking on the compartment door. “Yes? Come in?” she hid a yawn behind her hand. A small girl was standing in the doorway, her curly reddish hair pulled into pigtails. Cedrella blinked, disoriented. “Hello, do you need something?”
“Um…” the girl looked terrified. She must be a first year, Cedrella decided. “Is this compartment full? I mean, I can’t find anywhere to sit?” she spoke with a softly lilting Irish accent.
“This is the Prefect’s compartment,” Cedrella said, sitting up straighter, “but it’s empty now, so you can sit here if you would like. If I were you, though, I would want to sit with some people my age. Do you want me to help you find a place?” The little girl nodded. “All right,” Cedrella said, standing up. “Let’s go. What’s your name?”
“Ellen O’Riordan,” the girl said in a tiny voice.
“Nice to meet you, Ellen,” Cedrella said, offering her hand. An Irish Muggle-born, she thought ruefully to herself. Father would be horrified. “Is this your first time at Hogwarts?” She led Ellen into the corridor.
“Yes’m,” the first year said. “And my first time meeting anyone magical ‘sides for the teacher with the long beard who came to give me my letter.”
“Professor Dumbledore,” Cedrella said, nodding. “He’s a wonderful man, and a wonderful teacher. He teaches Transfiguration, which is one of my favorite subjects.”
“What’s Transfiguration?” Ellen asked.
“It’s the type of magic where you turn something into something else,” Cedrella explained, peering into compartments as the proceeded down the train to see if they contained first years. “Most likely the first thing you will do in that class is learn how to turn matches into needles.”
Ellen was frowning. “But…why do you need’ta do that? My Ma keeps matches and needles both on her, always.”
Cedrella smiled, surprised by the girl’s astuteness. “I’ve never thought of it that way before. I suppose, Ellen, that you really don’t need to know how to turn matches into needles. But I expect Professor Dumbledore teaches it because it’s a fairly easy spell and it’s a good introduction into some of the basic principles of all Transfiguration. Some of the same skills you learn when you’re Transfiguring the match will help you later when you’re learning more complex”and useful”things.”
“Oh,” Ellen said. She appeared to be thinking hard. “I still think we ought’ta learn useful things first,” she said.
Cedrella laughed. “Don’t worry, you will. You’ll learn how to grow a magical garden, and how to protect yourself from dark spells, and how to brew healing potions. You’ll learn how to fly a broom and how to Charm objects to accomplish tasks faster, and how to take care of magical animals, and even how to predict the future, if you want to. Hogwarts is wonderful, you’ll see.”
“Magical animals?” Ellen asked, sounding amazed. “Like what? Dragons, n’such?”
“Well, I don’t think dragons are covered in Care of Magical Creatures class, but you can learn all about them if you want to. The Hogwarts library has information on everything,” Cedrella said, watching with amusement as Ellen’s eyes grew wide.
“There are dragons?” she asked, agog.
“There certainly are,” Cedrella said. “Here, this compartment looks like it has seats.” She pulled open a door. A few first years, not yet dressed in their Hogwarts robes and just as small as Ellen, were grouped by the window, talking excitedly. “Hello,” Cedrella said, and they all stopped speaking and looked at her nervously. “Would it be all right if one more joined you?” She pushed Ellen forward.
“Sure,” one of the first years spoke up at last, a dark haired boy wearing robes in Appleby Arrow colors. “I’m Tarus, and this is Carver, and Linnea.”
“I’m Ellen,” Ellen said, shy once more. Cedrella had a feeling it wouldn’t last long. Her charge took a seat cautiously beside the others.
Cedrella bent down to squeeze her shoulder. “Have fun, Ellen. I’m Drell, the Head Girl, so if you ever need anything just come find me, all right?”
“Thanks, Drell,” Ellen called, and Cedrella heard the dark haired boy asking her about Quidditch as she closed the compartment door. She headed back to the Prefect’s compartment, feeling simultaneous warm inside and wistfully envious of the children who were just beginning their adventure at Hogwarts.
It was not until several hours later that she realized she had introduced herself as “Drell,” and that someone had called her by her once- hated nickname for the first time in three months.
**
Cedrella ran the last few steps and threw open the door to the Owlery. There it was, just as she had left it on that night in June, so filled with hope. There was straw and owl droppings and bits of bone strewn across the stone floor, and hundreds of birds perched all the way up the tower, and moonlight streaming through the window. It smelled deliciously like fresh air and feathers and hay, and the air was sharp and chilly. Her first visit to the Owlery every year was always exhilarating, but the place was more significant to her now than it had ever been, and a deluge of bittersweet memories swept over her as she stood in the doorway, sharpening her joy into something almost painful.
“Hello, darlings,” she called softly, looking around at the owls. “I’m back, my friends.”
They circled her, calling out, some landing on her arms, shoulders, and wrists, pecking her affectionately and expressing their pleasure to see her again.
Where have you been?
It was a long summer!
You’re back!
I just caught a huge mouse, come and see…
Where’s the boy with red feathers?
“Septimus isn’t here anymore, Daria,” Cedrella told the tawny sadly, cooing into her feathers. “He’s not coming back, he doesn’t go to Hogwarts anymore.” She smiled sadly. “But it’s wonderful to see you all.” She moved to sit under the window, in their favorite spot, and the owls moved with her, gathering around her. She closed her eyes, listening to their voices and stroking their smooth, feathered heads. Two owls nearby were having a dispute over a piece of food and Cedrella listened, trying to separate what others would hear from the meaning she understood from their screeches, her mind already returning to her research and possible book. Suddenly there was a commotion, many owls calling to each other and wings rustling. She opened her eyes, for a moment seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Then she realized that a very familiar bird had just landed on the perch nearest her.
“Mathias! Oh, Mat…” The owl had a piece of parchment clamped in his beak, and he regarded her appraisingly, his gaze much colder than usual. Cedrella reached out an arm, clad in the sweater Mathias himself had carried to her last Christmas. “Come talk to me, Mathias,” she begged, beseeching him. “I know you must be angry and confused. I know he must be, too. But I’ve missed you so much.” She could feel tears building behind her eyes. What was it about Septimus, and things related to him, that made her cry so easily?
He’s sad, Mathias answered. He cared.
“Oh Mat, I know he did, he cared so much,” Cedrella said. “I did too, you know that I did, but I let him down, l let you down, and I’m sorry…”
The owl leaned forward, proffering the parchment he held, and Cedrella took it with a slightly shaking hand and opened the seal.
August 22, 1934
Dear Drell,
I have written and re-written this letter so many times this summer. But I’m leaving for Africa tomorrow, and you start back at Hogwarts in a little over a week, and I’m out of time for revisions.
I honestly don’t know what to tell you, except all of the things you expect me to say. You know me well. And I thought I knew you well too”I thought you had finally decided to do what you want, to take matters into your own hands. I don’t understand how you of all people can be so passive all of a sudden about your future and about what is important to you. How many times have I told you that you’re more than a Black, more than a Slytherin, more than a future wife? I thought you finally realized that about yourself. I guess I was wrong. You say that I can’t understand, and you’re right. I know that you are a smart, talented, logical person, and I have a hard time believing you don’t have a good reason for your decision, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see it. I do see that leaving your family, if that’s what it would take at this point, would be a very, very difficult thing to do. But I don’t see how, given what I know about them and you, you would choose to stay with them. I simply don’t.
I do have to thank you for getting your letter to me, though. Before Demetrius came home with it I was a complete wreck”I had no idea what was going on and was afraid something had happened to you. Of course your news didn’t improve things much, but at least I knew where you were and that you were safe.
As I mentioned, Demetri and Viv are taking me to Africa with them for most of the month of September, so I’m giving this letter to Rudy to post in time for the start of term. I’ve told him everything. He’s not very happy with you. But he agreed to mail this for me. I am excited to be going abroad, even though I think I’ll end up babysitting baby Violin most of the time. It’s no secret that this trip is to help me forget whatever happened to make me so miserable this summer, (no one but Rudy, and now Demetri a bit, knows) but I think they are right and it will do me good. I hope your start of term goes well, and I’m sorry that you’re so unhappy. You are in a difficult situation, I’ll admit, but I’m not going to hide that I think you’re making the wrong choice.
Still love you,
Sep
Cedrella was not sure what sort of expression was on her fact as she finished the letter, but it must have been bad because Mathias relented from his silence and came to perch on her knee, the grip of his talons firm and reassuring. She pressed her face into his feathery back, tears leaking out of her eyes, as she let the letter fall to the floor. “What am I supposed to do, Mat? I knew he would react like this. I knew it.”
The owl acknowledged this with a gentle nudge of his head.
“But do you realize what he’s asking me to do?” she asked, swiping at her tears trying to steady her voice and marshal her thoughts, trying to keep from sobbing outright. “He wants me to leave my family for him!”
He’s always wanted that. You know this.
“Of course I do”but he always had enough sense before not to say something like that outright! It’s awfully presumptuous of him, Mat. It’s not fair.” She paused, blinking tears out of her eyes. The owl regarded her in disapproving silence. “I suppose neither of us are being fair,” Cedrella admitted. “You’re right about that. It’s not fair of him to tell to me I’ve made the wrong choice by choosing my family over him, but neither is it fair for me to have gotten his hopes up so much only to let him down so badly.”
Yes, Mathias agreed, and he gave her another reassuring nudge with his beak.
“You like it when I admit my mistakes, don’t I? Well, it’s true, I made one, and I was silly enough to get my hopes up, to convince myself that I was clever enough to have everything. I was a deluded fool, thinking I could ever have both.”
The owls did not like her bitter tone. They clustered around her, making contradictory sounds, asserting their devotion and confidence that she was not a fool.
“Thank you,” she said softly, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. “You’re all very kind. But I don’t deserve it.”
Mathias peered into her face from his perch on her knee. What are you going to do now?
“I don’t know, Mat. I just…” she picked up the letter from where it had fallen in the straw, surveying the angry, accusatory words. “I miss him,” she whispered. “Whatever’s happened, whatever’s going to happen, I just miss him. I want to see him.”
Then tell him, Mathias instructed. His golden eyes were stern. Be honest. He was with you.
September 3, 1934
Dear Sep,
Mathias gave me your letter last night. I have to thank you for sending him to deliver it”it was more wonderful and reassuring than you can imagine to see him and to speak with him after all this time. I know I’ve told you before, but he is a most extraordinary bird and a dear, dear friend.
You have been very honest with me and I want to commend you for that. As difficult as it was to read your letter and as unfair as I think you are being, I appreciate so much that you are telling me what you really think, and I will try to do the same.
First of all, you reacted almost exactly as I expected you to, though I had hoped (foolishly, perhaps”another lesson for me about the futility of this optimism business) that you might understand at least a little. I am not blaming you for being yourself”I said all along that I blame you for nothing. If anyone is to blame in this situation it is I, and I take responsibility for that. I was not fair to you. But what you are telling me is not right either. You are asking too much and taking too much for granted, and I think you know it.
But let us forget about all that for a moment, because despite all of this between us I miss you desperately, like a constant knife in my chest. Being back here at Hogwarts makes it both better and worse”I am certainly happier and freer, but at the same time it is full of memories. I am sitting in the library in our old corner as I write this, and it seems like you could appear from behind a bookshelf at any moment and start making jokes about what a bookworm I am. I want to see you and I want to hear about your summer, and I want to trade news as we always have. Will you write me back, and tell me about Africa? Will you meet me in Hogsmeade when you return to Brittan? We have a day in the village scheduled on October the 30th.
I hope you are having a wonderful time and learning lots of interesting things with Demetirus and Vivery, and that the trip is helping in all the ways your mother hoped. The owls send their greetings, and they miss you too. They grew quite accustomed to having you around last year.
Love,
Cedrella
September 10th, 1934
Dear Drell,
I cannot believe that Mathias flew all the way to Africa for you. I was so shocked when he turned up, you have no idea. The locals we’re staying with were really confused, as they’ve never seen an owl before. Here they use these strange pigeon-like birds to deliver packages, which can cause problems when trying to send larger items because the birds are so small.
Africa is wonderful so far”it’s about as different as possible from home, and I’m kept busy all the time with strange and new things to do. Demetri is studying the magic of this remote tribe, a cousin of the Masai, and Viv spends the day traipsing through the savannah looking for magical plants, with the baby on her back when she can tear her away from the villagers, who absolutely love her. The old women pass Violin around and around”they think she’s the funniest looking baby they’ve ever seen, with her white skin and red hair and all, and they think it’s fabulous that she’s started picking up some Masai words. I can’t understand a word they say, but Demetri does and when he’s around he translates. Otherwise, we do a lot of hand gestures. I know that you would love it here, though I’m not sure what you would think of the living conditions. Seeing how you always surprise me, they probably wouldn’t bother you as much as I think they would.
Anyway, I appreciate that you want to be honest with me, I really do. I know that is sometimes hard for you, or harder for you than it is for me. I do miss you too, of course, that was and still is the problem. I don’t know what to think about us anymore and I don’t know what I want. I don’t think you do either. But I miss you and I love you, Cedrella.
Sep
September 18th, 1934
Dear Sep,
Mathias must have stopped off at your house to give the next job to Cleo”or did you tell him to do that? Either way it was wonderful to see her as well.
Africa sounds amazing. Your description of the old women with Demetrius and Vivery’s baby made me laugh, and I can’t wait to read about their findings. What sort of things do you do during the day? Do they use any form of wands for their magic? And what are these owl-pigeons like?
I am keeping quite busy with all my classes, Head Girl duties, and more research. I’ve been writing and organizing all my findings from last year as well, and I am thinking about compiling it into a book of some kind. You should tell your brother that he has inspired me. I’ve been to visit old Pepper twice already, the first time to ask him about his aunt, and the second time because he invited me back for tea. It’s lovely to have a bit of conversation and a reminder of last year. I visit the owls almost daily, but it isn’t the same anymore without you there. I hardly ever see Charis”she put up with me over the summer, or rather we put up with each other, but I can tell she doesn’t want me bossing her around now that we’re back at Hogwarts. I don’t mind the distance, but I do worry about her of course. And I miss they way we used to be. All in all though, I am relieved to be here and am trying to make the most of my seventh year. I might even go to the Quidditch matches.
What do you think about Hogsmeade? I miss you.
Love,
Cedrella
**
Cedrella quickened her pace, glancing at her reflection in a window as she passed. Her hair, barely visible in the glass that revealed an overcast October morning out on the grounds, was neatly pulled back from her face and fell loose down her back, how Septimus liked it.
It’s almost time, she thought, nerves dancing. In less than an hour, I’ll see him. She joined the queue of students in the entrance hall waiting to leave the castle for a day in Hogsmeade village. Most, like her, wore cloaks and scarves, and many were paired off, dates clutching one another’s hands, and there was a general air of excitement among everyone. Cedrella stood alone near the back of the group, averting her eyes from Charis and Lucifer, who stood arm in arm near the front. Charis was laughing at something, gazing admiringly up at her blonde fiancée.
Cedrella could not quite explain to herself why, amid her excitement, she was so nervous. It was Septimus, after all, who knew her better than anyone and whom she had been longing to see for months and months. Perhaps it was the divide that hung between them now, the mutual acknowledgement that there was something they could never agree on. But Cedrella thought that they had done quite well, in the past weeks, with moving past that and corresponding normally. After the summer, simply seeing his handwriting and hearing his news and casual banter and familiar jokes had been a wonderful relief, however angry he was with her. After he returned from Africa, they had resumed sending letters nearly every other day, trading thoughts and stories as they always had. And she desperately wanted to see him, to hold his hand and hear his voice and perhaps be able to explain a bit better how it was that she could love him so much and still not give up everything for him, as he wanted her to. She knew it was highly improper, as an engaged woman, to go and meet Septimus now, but she hardly cared anymore. She was taking precautions so that they wouldn’t be seen, and she had to do something to ease the painful ache of her heart, to make her feel like herself again. Determined though she was to hold onto herself, Cedrella could feel the girl she had been last spring slipping away from her sometimes, and she couldn’t bear it. She wanted to be happy. Maybe Septimus would be able to make it all better.
Pringle allowed her to pass through the oak front doors and down the steps, out of the castle. It was a windy day, but Cedrella always enjoyed being outdoors, and this did not bother her much. She hurried down the path to Hogsmeade, stopping less than she normally would have to enjoy the scenery, intent on her goal. Turning onto High Street, she ignored the various brightly lit shops, the Post Office (where she had often gone to talk to the owls in years past), and the pubs where Hogwarts students were flooding in to buy lunch and hot drinks. She walked briskly, the wind tossing her hair, until she reached the end of the shops and turned right onto a small country lane. Past several cottages with large, wild gardens, she sat down on a large stone bench at the end of the road to wait.
It was a beautiful spot, with the mountains rising up on two sides and the green, rock-strewn hillsides all around, and Hogwarts visible in the distance. She tried to tame her tangled hair, pulse jumping oddly in her veins. And then after only a few minutes there was a loud pop and there he stood, the same as ever, in a brown cloak and plaid scarf, his hair blazing red in the muted landscape… She stared for a long moment, smiling, drinking in the sight. “Sep!”
He walked over to her and held out a hand to help her to her feet, pulling her into a crushing hug. Cedrella wrapped both arms around his warm body, breathing in his smell, all sorts of emotions rushing through her.
Much too soon, Septimus pulled out of the embrace. “Hi Drell.”
“Hi.” She was slightly breathless. She probably looked like a fool and she really didn’t care.
“Merlin it’s strange, seeing you,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
“I know,” she agreed, for there was definitely something odd hanging in the air between them, something that had never been there before. She suddenly felt unsure of what to say or do, which had never happened around Septimus before. She wanted to hug him again, to kiss those familiar lips and laugh in that familiar way, but somehow she felt that it would be wrong.
Septimus held out a hand to her again, and she took it. “Let’s walk,” he said.
“There’s no path,” Cedrella pointed out, as he led her past the stone bench and up the rocky slope.
He shrugged. “So?”
Cedrella gave a half laugh. “Fair enough.”
The picked their way up the steeper, mostly not speaking. Cedrella could hardly believe she held his hand in hers, after all this time. Her heart felt strange and large in her chest. She could feel his eyes on her, and every now and then she glanced sideways at him, making sure all over again that he was really there. And yet every time she looked he was gazing straight ahead, his expression strangely serious. He almost looked sad, she thought. She wondered if something had happened that he wasn’t telling her about.
Finally she could take it no longer. “Sep,” she said carefully, “Are you all right? You seem… troubled.”
He sighed, looking at her properly at last. “Cedrella…”
“What? What is it?” his tone was scaring her. Where was her laughing, smiling, joyful Septimus?
He sighed again and moved to sit down on a nearby rocky ledge. She joined him, not letting go of his hand. “I hoped we could just, you know, talk and have a good time before I said this,” he said eventually, “but I guess that’s not going to happen. I shouldn’t’ t be too surprised, I guess.”
“Say what?” Cedrella pressed, hating how cryptic he was being.
“Say that”“ Septimus suddenly looked upset, almost distraught, and she knew that this is what he had been hiding behind his serious expression. It only made the sick feeling in her stomach grow worse. “It’s easy to be normal in letters,” he said finally, “or easier anyway. I could read over it, make sure I sounded happy, chatty, like always. But Drell, who am I kidding, really?”
She did not answer. She didn’t know what he was talking about but she didn’t like where this conversation was going at all.
“We both know it’s over,” he continued flatly. “Where can we possibly go from here? What are we, anymore? What’s the point in writing all these letters, or in meeting here today? Aren’t we just prolonging the inevitable?” he stared out across the beautiful village and surrounding mountains that were displayed below them. “I want to see you, Drell, and I want to get letters from you and hear about your life and write you back and make you happy. But I can’t”I’m just going to lose you. If you’re serious about not changing your mind, then I’ve lost you already and”“ he broke off and turned suddenly to face her. “Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what? Sep, what are you saying, it’s not”“
“I’m saying that you are making this worse, all right? That’s what I’m saying! You writing me all these letters, and asking me to meet you”I can’t say no to you, Cedrella, I love you too damn much, and”“
“I’m not forcing you to do anything! I thought you wanted to see me! You told me you did!”
“I did want to see you, I do. But this”“ he held up their joined hands and then dropped them, jamming his into the pocket of his cloak. “All of this is just wrong. If you’re engaged to another man, if you’re really going to go through with that and marry him, then I shouldn’t even be here. What do you think, that we’re going to be pen pals forever? Are we just going to be friends now, after everything? Or you think that we’ll keep meeting in secret like this for years, while I watch you get married and have children and am not allowed to love you?” He stood up, glaring at her, looking more like a man and less like a boy than Cedrella had ever seen him. “I want you, Drell,” he said fiercely, and he sounded like he was about to cry. “I love you and I would marry you and I think you’re worth everything in the world. But”“
“Then what are you saying?” Cedrella interrupted. Panic was rising up in her like poison. “I don’t want to lose you, Sep, I can’t”that’s the whole point of this. You’re the only one who”you’re”“
“I’m what? I’m not going to be your secret shame anymore! You’re not being fair, Cedrella! What am I supposed to do, never move on and just wait for you to write me and tell me when we can meet for a few hours? I have a life to live too! I can’t do that”and believe me if I could I would, because I would do almost anything for you. But not that. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and I can’t do it. I won’t.”
She thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She stood up to face him, and realized there were tears running down his cheeks. “So what are you telling me?” her voice was choked.
“I’m telling you what I told you months and months ago,” he said roughly. “There is always a choice”you’ve made yours, and now I have to make mine.”
“So did I, Sep, I chose to try to be with you, and I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances”“
“No you’re not!” he shouted. “You’re not, Cedrella, not by a long shot! If you really love me, if you really choose me, then you have to choose all of me, even the parts your family won’t like! You have to make a sacrifice sometimes, that’s just the way it works! You have to let go of your bloody pride and your ideas about loyalty and all that rubbish and really, actually, choose me. Can you do that? Can you?”
She did not answer. Her throat felt sealed shut.
“I didn’t think so.” She had never heard him sound so bitter. “Just admit it, you’re choosing the Blacks. Admit it! You’re brave enough to decide for yourself, Cedrella, and smart enough and independent enough. I know you, all right? So don’t”you have a choice. And you’re choosing them! Just say it!”
“There was never a choice”“
“Damn it, Cedrella!”
They glared at each other, both of them crying, and Cedrella had no idea what was happening, or why they were saying these things, or how to make him understand, or how things had gone so horribly wrong so quickly. “So are you just going to leave?” she demanded, realizing she sounded slightly hysterical and not caring a whit. The only thing in the world was Septimus standing right there before her and the frantic pounding in her chest.
“No, I”“ he stopped. And then he suddenly moved forward and grabbed her around the waist and kissed her roughly, his lips hard and hot and almost painful. It was like no kiss they had ever shared, and despite his anger and hurt that she could practically taste, she threw herself against him and reciprocated, thrusting her hands into his hair, forgetting that she couldn’t breathe, that his hand was crushing her mouth to his, that her cheeks were wet with his tears. They stood there for several full minutes, clinging to one anther, and it was delirious, exquisite pain for Cedrella. And then Septimus wrenched himself away and held her at arms length for a moment, his eyes slightly wild, staring at her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but just as suddenly as he had kissed her, he turned away and vanished with another loud pop.
She was abruptly, violently alone on the empty mountainside.