I had it all
But not what I wanted
Cause home for me
Was a place uncharted
And overgrown
You'd make your way in
I resist you just like this
You can't tell me to feel
The truth never set me free
So, I did it myself
You can't be too careful anymore
When all that is waiting for you
Won't come any closer
You've got to reach out a little more
More
More
More, more
-Paramore
The scarlet steam engine was once more speeding towards its destination, leaving behind ordered fields for the wild forests of Northern Scotland. And Cedrella once more sat by herself beside the window, a letter clutched in her hand. It was a short letter, more of a note, written on a scrap of parchment that was crumpled from the number of times she had read and reread it.
Drell,
Meet me in the Owlery at midnight the night after we get back to Hogwarts. Please?
â”Sep
Cedrella had a bad feeling about this, but it could not quite overshadow the thrill of excitement and anticipation she got in her stomach every time she read those words. The sensible side of her demanded that this friendship, this association, thisâ”whatever it wasâ”had to stop here. She had already had so many chances to turn back: that first night, when she spotted him in the Owlery, that first letter, which she neednât have replied toâ”and she hadnât taken them. Now was the time. She could not let this go on. It was insanity, it was dangerous, and it was absolutely unlike her.
The non-sensible side of her, which seemed to be gaining more and more clout in her head these days, imagined sitting in the dark tower with Septimus once more. There would be no tears this time. They would just sit together, talking and laughing, their shoulders brushing, with nothing but air (and certainly no secrets) between them.
Cedrella pressed her eyes shut so tightly that stars erupted there, breaking up the image in her mind. No, she thought fiercely. I canât. It isnât right.
âBlack?â
Cedrella jerked her head up, stuffing the letter into the pocket of her robes. Rodney Selwyn was standing in the door of the prefect carriage. âSelwyn,â she said in what she hoped was a cool, dismissive voice.
âWhat are you still doing in here? Come and sit with us.â He leered at her.
âWho is âusâ?â Cedrella asked, buying time.
âNott, Burke, Bulstrode, my sister⌠the usual people. Come on, Cedrella.â He dropped down onto the seat next to her, leaning in. âYou spend to much time on your own. Youâre like a bloody Ravenclaw, always shut up in the library. You know we all want your company.â He grinned.
Cedrella stood up, suppressing a shiver. âAll right, Iâm coming.â It was not worth arguing. And at least she wouldnât be alone with Rodney anymore. Creep is taking lessons from his father, she thought. âLead the way, Selwyn. By the way, I heard about your engagement to Rosalyn. Congratulations.â
He glared at her. They both knew she had known he was promised to Rosalyn Smith long before the formal announcement over Christmas. âThanks,â he snapped finally, and stalked out of the compartment and down the corridor. Cedrella followed, smirking to herself.
In the Slytherin compartment, Rodneyâs sister Eleanor and her friend Veronica Bulstrode were discussing the Yaxleysâ Ball, while Raymond Nott read the Daily Prophet and Marvin Burke lay stretched out across three seats, watching the girls. Cedrella sat down gingerly on the seat nearest to the door, acknowledging them with only a curt nod. The boys both grinned back, while Veronica smiled falsely. Eleanor didnât even bother to look up. She was the only other girl sixth year Slytherin girl left at Hogwarts, and she had given up on engaging Cedrella in anything long ago.
âSo, Black, how was your Christmas?â
âFine. And yours, Burke?â
âIt was good. Went to a nice party at the Pottersâ. I didnât see you there, Black.â
âI was at a dinner at the Malfoysâ that night,â Cedrella said dismissively, effectively ending the exchange. Burke struck up a hurried conversation with Rodney, trying to cover up the fact that Cedrella had just revealed that his family had not been invited by the Malfoys, and Cedrella pulled her potions book out of her bag and began to read. As her classmates continued with their inane, meaningless conversations and gossip, she eased a bit of parchment and quill out of her bag as well, and began to write.
Sepâ”
I will be there.
C
There was nothing like a good dose of adolescent Slytherins to make her do something drastic.
**
Cedrella had Prefect patrol the following evening, so she left the Common Room where she was sitting near the fire with one eye on a book and the other on Charis, who was playing chess with Lucifer Malfoy, at seven-thirty. She was a bit reluctant to leave, because her sister was being entirely too giggly and Cedrella had a feeling it would only get worse once Charis knew her sister was no longer there to supervise. But nonetheless she gathered up her books and departed, catching her sisterâs eye with a last stern look as she did so.
It was a very quiet night in the corridorsâ”it was only the second night back, and everyone was in their common rooms catching up with their friends. With nothing else to do, Cedrella's thoughts drifted to Septimus and their planned meeting in just a few hours. She could not help feeling guilty for keeping such a close eye on her sister when, in truth, it was Cedrella herself who needed someone to keep her in check. She wondered if, had Callidora still been at Hogwarts, her older sister would have noticed her preoccupation. Perhapsâ”but probably not. Cedrella knew that she was not only the most perceptive of her sisters, but also the best liar and the best at keeping secrets. She knew this talent would serve her in her life, but Cedrella almost wished, in this moment, that she had an older sister who could take care of her and tell her what to do. Maybe then she wouldnât be so reckless.
Cedrella went straight to the Owlery after her patrol was over and took her Christmas gift from her bag, pulling the sweater over her head.
âHello darlings,â she called to the owls, looking around and feeling calmer already. âItâs me. Iâm back. Iâve missed you!â A few owls called back in reply, but they were unusually quiet. âWhat?â Cedrella asked. âWhat is it?â The birds unanimously turned their heads to the dark corner by the window, and as Cedrella did so as well she felt color rush to her cheeks. âSep. Youâre⌠early too?â
He chuckled, moving into the light of her lit wand. Mathias was perched on his shoulder. âIâm glad to see you like your present.â
Cedrella blushed again, which was most unlike her. âOf course I do, Iâve already told you that.â
âYou could have just been trying to be polite.â He raised his eyebrows and she was pretty sure he was teasing.
âWell, I wasnât.â
âI can see that now.â He grinned.
âSpeaking of being polite,â Cedrella said, âI feel rather bad that I didnât give you anything for Christmas, especially since your gift was so generous and thoughtful. Iâm sorry.â Cedrella was sorry, though she had no idea what she would have gotten him or how she could have procured it.
âDonât worry about that at all,â Septimus said, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. âI donât need more stuff. And youâve given me enough already.â
âSuch as what?â Cedrella asked skeptically. She never knew what he meant when he said (or wrote) things like that.
âSuch as your time, a listening ear, a few smiles here and there.â
âWell yes, butâ”â
âDrell, weâre friends. Itâs all right if we do things for one another without paying the other back.â
âPlease stop calling me Drell, Septimus,â Cedrella said, sitting down underneath the window.
âI donât see what is so bad about a nickname,â he countered, coming over to join her on the floor. âI think it suits you.â
âEven if that were true, I think it should be my choice what you call me, donât you think?â
âBut that isnât the way nicknames work,â Septimus said, as though he were explaining something very complicated to a small child. âLookâ”oh, donât roll you eyes at meâ”â
âI wasnât!â
âYou definitely were, Drell.â
âWhat if I started calling you âMusyâ or something equally ridiculous like that? Would you like it?â
âOf course I would.â Septimus looked like he was trying to keep himself from laughing. âIt would mean you liked me enough to give me a silly little pet name, soâ”â
âOh, never mind.â
Now he really did laugh. âReally, though, I am curious. Why are you so against a nickname?
Cedrella considered the question. âI suppose⌠because it sounds⌠undignified. There is nothing classy or elegant about âDrell,â it just sounds ratherâŚcommon.â
âFair enough,â Septimus said thoughtfully. âThen will you tell me something else?â
âWhat?â
âWhat is so dignified and elegant about sitting here on a pile of owl pellets and straw?â
Cedrella stared at him. He was pressing his lips together, barely containing a smile, and his eyes were dancing with laughter. âYouâ”youâre impossible!â she exclaimed, but a smile was threatening on her own face as well.
âI consider that a compliment, thank you,â he replied.
Cedrella shook her head, a warm bubble expanding in her chest. It was exactly what she had imagined, exactly what she had cravedâ”cheerful banter, smiles, laughter. Exactly what was not allowed. She looked up at Septimus, a wide smile on her face. He was already looking at her, his expression sill amused but his eyes serious. Cedrella pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, not breaking eye contact with the boy next to her. His blue eyes had unusual depth to them.
âCan I ask you something?â she said at last, breaking the comfortable silence.
âOf course.â
âItâs all right if you donât want to talk about it, but Iâm curiousâ”what was your father like?â
Septimus looked surprised, and there was definitely a shadow on his face where there hadnât been before. But he didnât hesitate. âHe was the youngest of four brothers,â he began. âTwo of his older brothers went into the Ministry, but dad wasnât into that kind of thing. He was big and strong, and he liked animals and the outdoors, so after he left Hogwarts he started raising winged horses. He had all kindsâ”Granians and Thestrals and everything. We have a huge barn of them on our property⌠Dad rented them out to people for pulling carriages and shows and things. He was funny, and he had this great big laugh that was distinguishable from pretty much anyone elseâs. He liked to laugh at his own jokes.â Septimus paused, his eyes faraway, seeing things that Cedrella couldnât quite imagine. âHe was always teaching us how to do things: how to care for the horses, and ride them, and fix things, and play chess and quidditch, and indentify plants and animal tracks, and that sort of thing in the forest. He was always patient with us, except when we disobeyed him directlyâ”such as going somewhere he expressly told us not toâ”and then he was so angry it was scary. He made a lot of noise all the time, whether he was laughing, or singing (he had this big opera voice), or shouting at us. He was⌠we all sort of revolved around him, you know? The house feels so empty without him. We all make twice as much noise as usual, trying to fill the silence I suppose, and even though technically we probably made more noise than he ever did, it still is⌠not right.â He turned his eyes slowly back to Cedrella. âWhy do you ask?â
âOh, I justâ”â she hesitated, taken aback at the sudden change of topic. âI wanted to understand better,â she said honestly. âEverything about your family is so very different from mine, and I have a hard time imagining the sort of person that would leave such a hole. I justâŚâ she wasnât even sure what was spilling out of her mouth. âI want to understand,â she repeated eventually. Which was true. In some ways, the Weasley family was another anomaly that she wanted to investigate, another culture she wanted to read about, another way of life that she found fascinating and peculiar.
Septimusâ eyes were strangely soft. âYou never cease to surprise me, Drell.â
âDonâtâ”â
âCedrella,â he amended, rolling his own eyes.
âWas that supposed to be a compliment?â
âIf you want it to be.â
âIâm not entirely sure about that.â
Septimus smiled, and then (her breath caught in her throat) reached out and took a lock of her hair between his fingers, smoothing it and twisting it. âWill you tell me more about your family?â
Cedrella swallowed, not trusting herself to speak, staring at her hair in his hands. âP-prehaps another time. Itâs late. I should go.â
He dropped her hair quickly. âAre you sure? Iâ”â
âNo,â Cedrella said, for she felt suddenly like another moment alone with Septimus was going to ruin was left of her self control and make the hot feeling in her chest explode. She brushed his knee with one hand and sprang to her feet, her pulse rushing. âGoodnight. Well, good morning I suppose, butâ”â She was hurrying towards the door.
âCedrella!â Septimus looked pained. âAre you all right? Did Iâ”â
Across the room from him, Cedrella already felt calmer. She gave him a small smile. âNo really, Sep, Iâm perfectly all right. Itâs quite late; I should really get to sleep.â And then, just because he looked so sad, she added impulsively, âIâll see you soon, I promise.â
âIâll leave you a note, shall I?â he called as she turned away. âGoodnight!â
She ran down the steps and plunged into the dark castle, yearning to clear her head.
**
âAnd just where do you think youâre going?â
Cedrella restrained from screaming at the very last second, staring up into the snarling face of Apollyon Pringle, the young caretaker, who was gripping her upper arm so hard that it hurt. âIâ”to bed?â she gasped, her brain searching furiously for an excuse, any excuse, as to why so was out of the dungeons at this hour. She could not believe she had let herself get caught. How many times had she slipped through the castle in the dark, completely unnoticed?
âI see,â he growled, tightening his grip on her arm as she tried to pull away. âCare to explain why you werenât there four hours ago, missy? Or should I just take you straight to your Head of House?â
Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, Cedrella chanted to herself. âSir, I had Prefect duty until ten tonight. I sat down to rest for just a moment after I was done and I must have dozed off, so I was just heading back to the dormitories.â She stared up at him with wide eyes, taking deep, silent breaths to calm the pounding of her heart.
Pringle stared back at her for a moment. Then he snorted. âPrefects sleeping on the job! â he turned and started marching her down the corridor. âListen, Missâ”?â
âBlack,â Cedrella supplied, a tiny part of her amused that he did not know her name. She had never spoken to the caretaker before except at Prefect meetings; the idea of him actually punishing her would have been absurd as well as funny if it wasnât currently happening. The errant thought that Pringle undoubtedly knew Septimus by name crossed her mind, but she quashed it.
Pringle flinched. Accusing Wizarding royalty like the Blacks, even of something minor like being in the castle after hours, was serious business. âWell, Miss Black, even if you did fall asleep after your patrol, you are breaking curfew. That is worth a week of detentions.â
âYes, sir, I know,â Cedrella said meekly. âBut do you think you could speak to Professor Slughorn about it first? He needs me to do my Prefect duties, he might not be able to spare me for a week.â
âDonât try to negotiate, Miss Black.â Pringle stopped outside the door that Cedrella knew led to his office, and unlocked it. He pushed her inside and she perched reluctantly on one of the peeling stools. Pringle turned to face her, arms folding, frowning. Cedrella knew his love for giving detentions was battling with dislike at the idea of crossing Professor Slughorn and, worse, the Blacks. Of course, she wasnât about to tell him, but if Pringle gave Cedrella detention he would not be the one facing their wrath. She wondered with a chill what her father would do to her.
Finally, Pringle broke the tense silence. âMiss Black, I am going to write you up for two nights of detention for being in the castle after hours and breaking curfew. You should consider yourself very lucky that itâs not mâ”â There was a knock on the door.
Cedrella, whose heart had sunk horribly at the verdict of detention, sat up straighter, wondering with dread who else was going to see her like this, held like some common Gryffindor troublemaker in the caretakerâs office.
Pringle opened the door. There stood Professor Dewitt, the strict and unctuous Astronomy teacher, in a black velvet dressing gown. But that was not what made Cedrellaâs mouth fall open in horror, for skulking behind him was none other than Septimus.
âI found this boy in the seventh floor corridor, Mr. Pringle,â Dewitt said smoothly. âHe saw me coming and was trying to hide from me behind a statue. I have already given him detention every night this week, but I thought you might appreciate the chance to write him up and report him to Dumbledore.â He smirked. âI know the two of you go way back.â
âOh yes, sir, Weasley has become quite familiar with my office in the last three years, havenât you, you guileless boy? Well, itâs been quite the night for detentions. Thank you, Professor.â Pringle sounded satisfied.
âIâll leave you to it. Goodnight, Pringle.â He smiled thinly and closed the door.
Cedrella and Septimus stared at one another as Pringle rummaged in his files, extracting two blank pieces of parchment, a bottle of ink , and a bent quill. Septimus opened his mouth to speak and Cedrella shook her head furiously. âWhy?â he mouthed. Cedrella pointed to the prefect badge pinned to her robes, then rested her head on her hands for a moment, miming sleep. Septimus grinned. Good one,â he mouthed.
Pringle straightened up, ending the silent exchange. âWell, boy, whatâs your excuse this time?â
âI was up in the North Tower doing my Astronomy homework, Sir. See, Professor Dewitt is just such a great teacher, I hate doing anything halfway for his class. So I was looking at the stars making sure I had done just the right calculations on my star chart. Itâs a great night for it, the clouds have finally cleared. Hopefully itâll hold, that way you wonât have to shovel so much snow this weekend.â
Cedrella had to bite her cheek very hard to stop herself from laughing at Septimusâ cheeky smile. Pringle, however, was not amused. âYou never cease to amaze me, boy,â he growled, marking Septimusâs name on his parchment with a vicious swipe of the quill. âYouâre lucky Dewitt caught you, I would have hung you by your thumbs in the dungeons for the rest of the day. Itâll be a happy day when Iâve seen the last of you Weasleys' lying, stealing backs.â He shoved a piece of parchment into Septimusâ hand. âReport to me for detention at six oâclock every night this week. Weâll see how you like shoveling snow, without magic. And make sure you pay a visit to your Head of House tomorrow, or thatâll be every night next week as well. Iâll sending Dumbledore another report on you, boy.â
Septimus accepted his sentence, tucked it into his cloak, and gave Pringle a jaunty salute. âOf course, Sir.â He stood up, heading for the door, and then paused. âI certainly hope youâre not going to make Black here shovel snow as well. I saw her asleep in the Charms corridor, she really looked quite exhausted. The things we students get punished for these days, sleeping in and actually trying to do our homework!â
âYou can expect Miss Black to join you in detention, Weasley. No one is allowed to wander the corridors at night for any reason, as you should know. Now get out, both of you!â
Cedrella jumped to her feet and hurried to the door. âGoodnight, Mr. Pringle.â
âYeah, goodnight,â Septimus called over his shoulder. âSee you in detention, Black.â He winked, and as Pringle slammed the door behind them so hard that is rattled the nearby windows, they both burst out laughing.
Soldiers by dominiqueweasley
Chapter Notes: Cedrella gets curious... and then gets in trouble. Luckily she has company!