Soldiers by dominiqueweasley
Chapter Notes: Wedding preparations have Cedrella near a breaking point.
Finally, I can see you crystal clear,
Go ahead and sell me out and a I'll lay your ship bare,
See how I'll leave with every piece of you,
Don't underestimate the things that I will do,
There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark,
The scars of your love remind me of us,
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all,
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless,
I can't help feeling
We could have had it all
-Adele
It did not escape Cedrella’s notice that, over the next few days, she was almost never left alone. Her mother, Callidora, and Mrs. Crouch hovered constantly, rushing her from robe fitting to robe fitting, giving her instructions on how to walk, what to say, when to smile. Telling her about the menu, the guest list, the flowers, the location, as if it were vitally important information. Callidora even took her aside to have a serious conversation about the “wedding night,” and what was going to happen and what was expected of her. Cedrella sat through all of it, focusing only on keeping her expression blank and her tongue still, letting the dressmakers poke and prod her, letting her family’s words slip through her ears without touching her consciousness.
She had never felt so betrayed, not over the summer when Charis told on her, not in October when Septimus left her. I chose you, you worthless bastard, she would think, staring at her father during dinner. According to Septimus, I chose you, and I was going to go through with this on your terms as soon as I graduated in June. What have I done to deserve this now? Why am I being treated like a prisoner about to bolt at the first opportunity? She felt like she was being treated like a naughty child who didn’t know what she was doing, which was such a sharp contrast to her role of mature, autonomous Head Girl at Hogwarts or even the previous Christmas at home when she was trusted to behave well in social situations and take care of Charis. Never mind that she was an adult, about to become a wife. At night, when she was alone, she let her blank mask drop and sobbed furiously into her pillow until she was too exhausted to cry any longer and fell asleep. The anger almost felt good, though”it let her channel everything she was feeling, kept her from thinking about Caspar or losing Hogwarts or worse, Septimus. No, as long as she didn’t think about that she could stand it, just barely.
The evening before Charis returned for the Christmas holidays, Cedrella found herself alone in the drawing room with Callidora, who was staying in Château Noir until after the wedding to perform her sisterly duties. Her older sister, dark hair pulled back as always, sat by the fire bent over her embroidery, her needle flashing silver in the firelight independent of her hands and her wand out, two intertwined C’s blooming beneath her fingers. Cedrella knew it was to be her wedding present, and it made her sick to look at. She stared out the window instead, watching the fat snowflakes that were gathering on the sill.
“Callidora, will you answer me something honestly?”
Her sister looked up, surprise evident on her face. Probably because Cedrella had hardly spoken since her return to Château Noir, especially not in a voice that sounded actually interested. “I can try.”
“Why did they move the date of the wedding without telling me? If it had to be in December instead of June for one reason or another, why wasn’t I informed about it before the entire Wizarding community?”
Callidora looked down at her lap for a moment . “I don’t know,” she said softly, and Cedrella was certain she was telling the truth. “Mother only told me about it the day before it was announced in the Prophet. I think it was a… fairly recent decision.”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Cedrella said, forcing her voice to stay steady, to speak in terms that wouldn’t alarm her sister, even though she wanted to burst into angry, frustrated tears. “This wedding isn’t a small event. It’s right in the middle of the Christmas season, which is always a busy time socially, and weddings aren’t usually held then. And there’s not only the ceremony itself, but the Open House beforehand, as well. That’s two events to add the social calendar awfully late, and I’m sure less people are going to be able to come because of the lateness of the announcement. It meant taking me out of Hogwarts in the middle of a term, which is quite unusual, and it means that I won’t be able to live with Caspar right away because I have to go back to finish my exams, which is even more unusual.”
“I know,” Callidora said. “You’re quite right, about all of it. Father and Mr. Crouch must have had a very good reason to move the date, otherwise I can’t imagine why they would have.”
Cedrella nodded in agreement, wondering if she should say any more, if she dared voice what was bothering her so much about the situation. “You don’t think it was moved… so I didn’t have time to change my mind?” she said it quietly, barely more than a whisper.
Even Callidora’s needle was still as she stared at Cedrella. Only the flames in the fireplace and the snowflakes outside moved.
“What makes you say something like that, Cedrella? You would never do that”you know what it would mean. You don’t have a choice.”
“I just”“ Callidora’s last sentence hung in her ears. You don’t have a choice.
Do I? she wondered, for what felt like the thousandth time.
She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I never would,” she started over. “But with everything that happened last year, and over the summer, I just thought… maybe Father wanted to be certain.”
Callidora pursed her lips, a slight frown creasing her high forehead. “Well we can never know for sure,” she said at last, “and in the end it doesn’t make much difference when the wedding is, anyway. We shouldn’t be talking about it.”
“Right,” Cedrella said softly, understanding that the subject was closed, that that was as much humanity as she was going to get from her sister tonight.
They spent the rest of the evening in silence, Callidora sewing and Cedrella staring into the fire. But when the clock on the mantle chimed midnight and they both rose to return to their rooms, Callidora strode forewords and embraced her, her arms surprisingly strong, pressing Cedrella’s head to her breast. It was the briefest of moments, but as Callidora hurried from the room without meeting her eyes, Cedrella knew that her sister thought she was right, and that she pitied her for it.
The thought gave her surprisingly little comfort. It just made her feel more helpless.
**
Two nights before the wedding, Cedrella’s parents hosted the Open House, a warm new name for another fancy ball in which she was to be paraded around like someone’s prize Hippogriff, and everyone had a chance to show off. It was the first and only time she would see Caspar before the ceremony. Remembering a similar party held for Callidora when she was married, Cedrella expected her father, Mr. Crouch, and perhaps other influential purebloods to make toasts (or rather, long speeches) to the marriage, and to spend the rest of the evening hanging off Caspar’s arm being congratulated by everyone in attendance, though the sincerity of their remarks was always questionable, especially from the families with sons who could have been other potential husbands. Cedrella knew all of them would just be wishing they had approached her father sooner, offered a better dowry, anything that would have brought the prestige of a Black daughter to their family, their bloodline. The thought disgusted her.
She spent most of the day being scrubbed, prepped, and pampered, never left alone for a moment. Callidora spent nearly three hours doing her hair, twisting it, tendril by tendril, into something elaborate on the back of her head that involved the use of a box of about two hundred pearl-covered pins. While her sister worked, Cedrella stared out the window, where it was snowing again, and went through in her mind exactly how to set a trap line and skin a rabbit, as Pepper had shown her. She wondered if there were more ways she and the owls could help the gamekeeper, and planned what she would do when she got back to Hogwarts. She thought of more books to recommend to Ellen. She devised a new patrol schedule to run by Vladimir Dearborn for next term. Things that made her feel like herself. Thoughts of Septimus, Caspar, and that horrible trapped feeling were only present when she was forcing them away. Callidora, for once, left her to her thoughts, clearly sensing that Cedrella was far, far away from reality.
Charis was not so considerate. She breezed into Cedrella’s room two hours before the party was scheduled to start, already dressed and ready in a gold gown and red lipstick that made her look about four years older than she was, practically singing with excitement.
“I just can’t believe that it’s time already, Cedrella! This is the best Christmas surprise we’ve ever had, don’t you think?”
“Mhmm,” Cedrella said, not turning away from the window. Callidora’s reflection there frowned at her disapprovingly.
“I think it’s perfect, really, that you’re getting married now,” Charis was saying chirpily. “That way, over the summer when it’s my turn, you’ll be able to do everything for me that Callidora’s done for you!”
“There isn’t a date set for your wedding yet, Charis,” Cedrella said tightly. “Father hasn’t decided if you’re going to continue at Hogwarts or not. Remember?”
“When are you going to give that up? I couldn’t bear to be away from Lucifer and wait for two whole years.”
“You know, some people get married in their twenties,” Cedrella said. “You’re not even sixteen, Charis. There’s no hurry.”
“Well you’ve never wanted to get married, so of course you don’t think so. You’d rather read, or go tromping about the grounds with that filthy gamekeeper”“
“Pepper’s mother was a Flint, Charis. I would be more careful with words like that.”
“Perhaps I meant he’s actually, physically filthy all the time,” she countered, without missing a beat. “I don’t think he ever bathes.”
“He’s not”I’m not having this conversation anymore, Charis.” Her sister’s newfound ability for sharp retorts always unsettled her.
“Quitter,” Charis said, a little bit malicious and a little bit teasing.
“Both of you please, stop,” Callidora said suddenly, breaking her disapproving silence. “Charis, Cedrella is under a lot of pressure right now, don’t heckle her. Cedrella, try and act like an adult.”
It was extremely unusual, Cedrella realized, that the three of them were together in a situation where Callidora could assert her oldest-sister authority. It had happened all the time when they were small, but hardly ever in the past four years. She looked from Charis, who was examining her fingernails looking only slightly abashed, to Callidora, who looked tired and worried.
Why should I act like an adult when everyone refuses to treat me like one? she wanted to snap. But she held her tongue. Callidora was just trying to help, and Charis… she didn’t know what to do about Charis any longer. She knew, despite how much they still cared about one another, that something between them was never going to be the same as it once was. It was better to just keep quiet. Glancing at her younger sister again, she noticed that her hair was already elegantly twisted on top of her head and adorned with jeweled pins. Even this responsibility, the simplest thing, had been taken from her.
**
“Cedrella dear, are you ready?”
She did not answer her mother, nor did she move away from the mirror where she stood, staring at the glass. A stranger looked back.
“What do you think, Cedrella? Are you ready to go meet Caspar? He’s really going to love this, you look stunning. Like a goddess of winter,” Callidora said, smiling proudly at her handiwork.
Cedrella touched her face with one finger. Her skin was so perfectly polished and powdered that it looked, and felt, like wax. Her elaborate green and white robes felt simultaneously heavy and fragile, as if they were so intricate that they would break if she moved too quickly. There were so many pins in her hair that it took conscious effort to hold her head up straight. Charis, to be sure, had looked different and older in her red lipstick and golden gown, but she still looked like Charis. Cedrella didn’t know this girl looking back at her from the mirror. She was frightening in her strangeness.
“Cedrella!” Her mother wasn’t giving up.
“Let’s go,” Callidora said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Cedrella took a last look around her room, which as much as a prison as it had been at times, was still hers, unlike her face. She was unable to say exactly why she was so unnerved by her appearance, but she couldn’t help it. You can’t be yourself tonight anyway, Cedrella reminded herself. It doesn’t matter.
They descended into the foyer with no time to spare, for the Crouches arrived mere minutes later, and Caspar greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and some nonsensical comment about how beautiful she looked, and she accepted his arm and smiled a porcelain smile. Callidora was watching her approvingly from the staircase, and Cedrella forced her thoughts down and set her focus to her next duty: playing the part of the happy couple for their guests.
A surprising number of people considering the lateness of the announcement, all dressed in their winter finest, arrived at Château Noir in the next half hour. Cedrella supposed that no one who was invited, no matter how inconvenient the timing, had wanted to turn down attendance to such a prestigious event. She greeted all of them, nodding, curtseying, smiling, and all the while keeping one hand placed in the crook of Caspar’s elbow. She even accepted a kiss on the hand from both Robert and Rodney Selwyn, and shook hands with Eleanor, who gave her a curious, calculating look as she offered her congratulations. Cedrella was sure that her roommate was wondering the same thing she was: why was this happening now? Why not wait until she was out of Hogwarts?
After an hour of mingling, the tinkling bell rang for the start of the meal, and Cedrella and Caspar led the tide of guests into the ballroom where two dozen large tables laid with the finest china had been set out. Each guest picked a name card when they entered the room and, once they said their name, writing appeared directing them exactly to their seat. Cedrella knew from conversations between her mother and sister that she had vaguely listened to that a great deal of work had gone into the seating arrangements”it was a complicated game of social politics that her mother had always greatly enjoyed. If I ever have to host one of these parties, I’m going to let everyone sit wherever they want, Cedrella thought, as she and Caspar took their seats at the large table in the front of the room with the rest of their families.
House elves served wine and a first course of spiced, brothy soup, and as Cedrella sipped hers she could not help but wonder how much money had been spent on this food and what a family like the Weaselys could have done with it. Made it last for a whole year, probably. No, no, don’t think about that, But she had caught herself a moment too late. Caspar touched her knee under the table.
“Are you quite all right Cedrella? You looked odd, for a moment.”
She looked at him properly for the first time that night, surprised that he had noticed her moment of weakness. “Oh no, I’m perfectly fine,” she said. “Just a shiver”it’s chilly in here.”
“Do you need a wrap? I can fetch one for you.” He had not taken his hand off her leg.
“No, I’m quite all right thank you,” she said, suddenly repulsed by him. She jerked her leg away. “Please don’t touch me.”
She was saved from hearing his response by her father, who had risen to his feet at the sound of the bell once more, commanding silence. The guests stopped talking and turned their attention towards the front of the room where Arcturus Black stood, diamonds glittering on the collar of his black robes, a crystal goblet in one hand.
“I am pleased that you all have joined us tonight to celebrate a very special event,” he said in his deep, steely voice. “I think I speak for everyone at this table when I say we are delighted for the support and loyalty to our families that your attendance shows. I would now like to offer a toast, and I would appreciate very much if our guests joined me, in honor of the marriage of Caspar Crouch and my daughter Cedrella Black, and in honor of the union of our two great families. The Crouches, like the Blacks, are a family with a history of generations of purebloods and many influential wizards and witches. It is with great pride, therefore, that I anticipate the joining of our lineage and history. The world today is far more complicated and threatening to our way of life than it has been since the imposition of the International Statute of Secrecy, and at this time when many pureblood lines are dying off, splitting up, and mixing with a lower division of our society, a union such as this is truly something to celebrate. So in defiance to the Fawcetts, Weasleys, and Lovegoods of our society, let the union we celebrate today between two of our brightest young prospects stand for new promise for the Wizarding race and a renewal of our values: integrity, beauty, and purity of blood and mind.” He raised the wine glass to his lips and sipped it, and applause rang out across the hall as the guests followed suit.
Cedrella knew she wasn’t imagining it as her father looked directly at her over his wine glass, meeting her eyes with his icy gaze. There was triumph there, as if they were back at the Floo in Hogwarts and he had finally won the contest, won the game, proved she was merely a pawn to his king.
Bartimeus Crouch had risen to his feet and was saying something about a marriage of values, but Cedrella could not focus on his words with her father’s still ringing in her ears. The content of it was bad enough”not a word about his affection for her, his wishes for their personal happiness and peaceful marriage. It was politics, all politics, and he had not even tried to conceal that fact. Instead he had glorified it, bragged about it, treating her and Caspar as objects at a party that was supposed to celebrate them, presenting them not as people but merely as means to an end.
But it was not only that that was making her entire body feel cold. No, it was the vindictiveness”the snide mention of the Weasleys, the triumphant glare”that hurt. What was her father trying to do? Was he actually trying to hurt her? What was the point of that? Arcturus Black did not do things simply for the sake of doing them, Cedrella knew this much. All of his actions, no matter how despicable, were careful and calculated. But it didn’t make sense that he was trying to make her angry. So was this simply retaliation for her tiny act of defiance as they were leaving Hogwarts? Was he so determined not to only win the game but demolish her pawn as well?
Pawn. Where was that metaphor coming from? And then she remembered: Septimus, telling her she was more than a “marriage pawn,” that she had to take control of her own life. That she had to make a choice. And now here she was, after all this time and despite all her promises to never lose herself, being called a marriage pawn by her own father in front of a hundred people who all applauded him for it.
Septimus was right all along.
Caspar wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, he was watching attentively as his father finished speaking, clapping politely, turning to talk to Harfang Longbottom, who was seated on his other side…
She wondered if anyone else could tell how sick she suddenly felt, sick with dread and fear and anger at her father and that awful trapped feeling. She wondered if her waxy, porcelain face was betraying any emotion yet. She picked at her food for the rest of the meal, which seemed to take an inordinately long amount of time, and then as they all stood and last and the tables were swept to the side with a wave of her father’s wand, the music started and it was immediately time for her first dance with Caspar. As they waltzed and twirled around the ballroom, everything seemed to shimmer before Cedrella’s eyes. The rich colors of everyone’s robes, the light dancing off the crystal chandeliers and the jewels in the women’s hair, the glow of the candles…she felt dizzy, and sick and scared and trapped and disgusted by Caspar’s too-warm grasp on her hand and her waist. She broke away the moment the song ended.
“I’m feeling a little light headed,” she murmured. “A bit to much wine at dinner, I think. I’ll be back in just a moment.”
“Would you like me to come with you? Here, sit down, I will get you a glass of water.”
“No, thank you Caspar, I think I need a breath of fresh air.” And before he could object again, she hurried away from him, into the crowd of dancers. She knew she wasn’t supposed to leave his side all night”this was one of her mother’s explicit instructions”but she had to have a moment to compose herself, to clear her head and master her anger.
People greeted her as she made her way to the doors of the ballroom.
“Congratulations, dear.”
“Your father’s speech was wonderful, you must be so proud.”
“Caspar is such a wonderful match for you.”
“I couldn’t be more pleased about this wedding, Miss Black.”
And always, always, “you look beautiful, Cedrella.” Or “What a classic Slytherin beauty you are, Miss Black.”
By the time she made it out into the foyer, she wanted to scream not only at her father, but also at every single person she had spoken to in the last few minutes. Do you not realize that we’re actual people? she thought furiously. Are we just pretty dolls with useful political significance to you? Does anyone care if I’m happy, or if I actually care for Caspar? Why does everyone assume that my life is perfect?
Her hand was on the doorknob to the first floor bathroom when she heard Charis’ voice coming from inside it.
“…so glad the wedding was moved,” she was saying.
To Cedrella’s horror, Lucifer Malfoy’s voice answered. “I am too”if only because it means I get to see you in this dress.”
Charis giggled. There was a silence, during which Cedrella imagined they were kissing. She could not believe that her sister, her sister who these days was so focused on being the perfect socialite, had snuck away from an important party to snog her fiancée.
“Do you know why it was moved?” he asked. “Did your father tell you? It’s not a very common thing to do, move an important event like this on such short notice.”
“No,” Charis said, voice thoughtful. “But I think it may have something to do with…well…do you remember over the summer when I told you that Cedrella go in trouble with our father?”
“Yes.”
Cedrella leaned closer to the door.
“Well after that I think he was worried that once she went back to Hogwarts she wouldn’t…want to marry Crouch, that she would go back on the engagement or make things difficult.”
“Cedrella, make things difficult? She’s not very much fun, but she doesn’t seem like the type to fight an engagement, especially such an illustrious one. This will get her far.” Lucifer Malfoy sounded genuinely puzzled, and very curious.
“I know, I know… but Father thought she might. Things have been tense between them ever since... an odd sort of power struggle, I suppose you could call it.”
At least Charis has the decency to be vague, Cedrella thought sourly, pressing her ear closer still.
“So he changed the date to force her to marry Crouch? That seems extreme.”
“Well he…he asked me, at the beginning of the term, to be sure to write him and tell him everything she was doing, just to make sure his hunch was wrong, I think. And obviously we haven’t seen her much this term, she’s always so busy, but I’ve seen her sitting with some Gryffindor first years in the library before, and outside with that awful gamekeeper quite a lot. And…well, just…things…”
“Charis, you can tell me, you know you can trust me.”
Her sister hesitated, but not long enough. “The first Hogsmeade visit no one saw her the whole time, but she didn’t come back until late and then she locked herself in the bathroom and cried,” she said, words spilling out in a rush. “And she never cries! She’s told me she was going on patrol, but then I’ve gone out and seen Dearborn patrolling, and I don’t know where she goes. I saw her going into the forest with the gamekeeper once. And sometimes during Divination I look out the window and see her sitting outside, in all sorts of weather, with owls all over her arms. I think she’s up to something, I don’t know what it is, but I’m trying to find out. I don’t like it, I want her to go back to normal and stop being so bitter and distant, but she isn’t even nice to me anymore, Lucifer! We used to be best friends and now ever since she lied to me last year about the Weasley boy”“ Charis broke off, but the damage was done.
“Weasley boy?”
“I”“
“We’re going to be family, Charis,” Lucifer said. “You can tell me, it’s all right.”
Slippery git, Cedrella thought furiously, as Charis hesitated for a moment and then began to speak.
“All right, Lucifer, but nobody is supposed to know about this, you hear? I don’t know the full story myself. But do you remember when Cedrella got into a fight with Rodney Selwyn last year and ended up in the hospital wing?”
“I don’t think anyone is likely to forget about that any time soon,” Lucifer said with a snort.
“Right. Well, Septimus Weasley was somehow involved in that, and afterwards Cedrella told me that they had spoken in detention, and he was…interested in her. I think something more happened”I mean I know it did, because they were definitely seen kissing in the library after that, and then”“
Cedrella couldn’t take it any longer. Hearing this, hearing her sister speak so casually and so incorrectly about everything that that had happened to her in the last year on top of the awfulness of the party, and Caspar, and most of all her father’s speech and the feeling of being a pawn in his plans, was simply to much. She threw the bathroom door open.
Charis and Lucifer sprang apart, Charis looking horrified and alarmed, and Lucifer surprised but almost amused.
“You shouldn’t be here, Malfoy,” Cedrella said as coldly as she could. “And I need a word with my sister.” She glared at him until he kissed Charis’ cheek, straightened up, and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him and smirking slightly.
Charis and Cedrella stared at one another. Cedrella didn’t know where to start, didn’t know if she wanted to scream or simply run away as fast as she could so she didn’t have to look at her sister’s worried face and her smudged red lipstick. She felt like the whole night was spinning fast out of her grasp, like something was happening that was far out of her control.
“Are you…going to say anything?” Charis asked after a moment, voice tentative. “How much did you hear?”
“I heard that you’ve been spying on me for Father,” Cedrella said. “After everything that happened this summer, Charis, after everything I told you. After everything I did for you. I honestly don’t know what to say. I don’t understand you.”
“I was just doing what he told me to do, Cedrella, I didn’t have a choice! It would have been me in bed with scar slave on my face if I had refused!”
“Then you SHOULD have been!” Cedrella exclaimed. “How many times have I told you, Charis, that your highest loyalty isn’t to him, it’s to your sisters! We’re the only people who can take care of each other! I would have taken his wand for you in a moment!”
“You haven’t taken care of me at all, lately,” Charis said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been on my own for months, with you wrapped up in your own strange little world, and I’ve done all right for myself! But I know who I want to be, Cedrella, and that’s Mrs. Lucifer Malfoy, and in the end you can’t do that for me and I can’t do that for me. Only Father can!”
Cedrella stared at her sister in horror. There were simply too many things wrong with that statement to fully process in that moment. “Is that what you think this is about?” she hissed. “Your personal gain? That’s not what we were talking about, Charis, and that’s not what being a Black is about. Being a Black is about loyalty, loyalty to your family as the highest duty in life.”
“It’s not,” Charis said, and her voice was trembling, but she had that defiant look in her eyes again. “Being a Black is about being a pureblood, Cedrella. Tojuors Pur, remember? You heard Father’s speech. He’s not worried about being loyal to you, he’s worried about advancing his social position and staying on top! You can’t even hold up the loyalty idea, much less actually advance yourself. You’re good at following the rules, but that can only get you so far.”
“That’s what you think?”
“That’s what I know. I can’t believe I understood it before you, but there you are”you couldn’t teach me everything, Cedrella.”
“I was trying to protect you, because you’re my sister and I love you! Do you even care about that anymore? Is that even important to you at all? What happenedto you, Charis?”
“I could ask you the same question! What did you think you were preparing for, by trying to be perfect for all those years?”
For a terrifying moment, Cedrella wanted to reach out and strike her sister. She had never been so angry in her life, never felt so frustrated and betrayed. But then she thought of their father, and that she could never, ever hurt Charis how he had. So instead she turned away and ran before she did something she would regret.
**
Miraculously, no one saw her as she flew through the foyer, up the staircase, down the hall, and flung herself into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it, heart pounding, eyes streaming. She tried to take deep, steadying breaths, to push it all away so she could go back downstairs before anyone noticed she was gone, but the harder she tried to calm down the faster her gasps came, the harder she cried, the angrier she became.
“Being a Black is about loyalty, loyalty to your family as the highest duty in life.”
“It’s not. Being a Black is about being a pureblood, Cedrella. Tojuors Pur, remember?
She sank to the floor, her back to her bedroom door, pressing her face into her hands.
”So in defiance to the Weasleys of our society, let the union we celebrate today between two of our brightest young prospects stand for new promise for the Wizarding race and a renewal of our values: integrity, beauty, and purity of blood and mind.”
She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tiny stars erupted there, but she couldn’t shut it out.
” What did you think you were preparing for, by trying to be perfect for all those years?”
What, indeed?
Cedrella had heard of epiphanies before, read about them. She had even though that she may have had one before”when she decided to accept her attraction to Septimus, for example, or even over the summer when she had made that promise not to lose herself. But she realized, sitting on her bedroom floor with tears mottling the makeup that was caked onto her face, that she had not understood what an epiphany really was until this exact moment. One second she had been hopelessly frustrated, confused, angry, and betrayed, and the next she saw it all laid out before her, eerily clear. There was a ringing in her ears.
She sat still savoring the feeling for only a few seconds before leaping to her feet and tearing at the ties on the back of her gown, ripping the intricately tied cord that held it on out of the cloth. There was no time to spare. She darted around her bedroom still struggling out of the horrible dress robes, throwing things into a bag. Her Hogwarts books. Her owl sweater. A handful of underwear. She kicked off the torn dress at last and snatched up her heaviest cloak, throwing it over her shoulders, over her silk slip and elaborate helmet of pearl hairpins. She ripped off her high-heeled slippers and was pushing her feet into her favorite boots when she heard footsteps on the stairs and someone”Charis!”calling her name. She dashed to the window and rattled it”it was locked. “Alohamora!” Nothing.
“Cedrella, are you up here?”
She pressed herself into the doorway of her closet, bag in hand, hidden from view of the door. But if Charis came in it would take her less than a second to see the torn dress all over the floor and scream like a banshee and alert the entire gathering.
Cedrella knew the Apparition ban on the house was lifted for the night, because she had seen guests arrive that way, in the foyer, mere hours previously.
“Cedrella, where are you?” Charis called again. She sounded even closer this time.
Cedrella had never apparated before”she had intended to take a course on it at the Ministry after she finished Hogwarts. But standing there, her epiphany clear in her mind her entire body pounding with adrenaline, she knew she was out of options.
“Cedrella!”
She closed her eyes as tightly as she could and thought desperately, with every fiber of herself, of anywhere but her childhood home. Get me out of here,she begged. Take me somewhere safe. And then an image of Hogsmeade sprang to her mind and she turned on the spot as she had seen her father do so many times before, and everything was excruciating, suffocating, darkness.