I will sleep the day away, your sweet self holding court in my brain,
my prince of mischief, bringer of exquisite pain.
You'll be headed halfway round the world, your best-laid plans unbroken
and here I'll stay, soon be on my way to weightless.
You have me well on my way to weightless.
So much for all my suits of armor, baby, you got through.
Loved what you found, set up camp, and it's a good thing, too.
Now you spin around me, like the wondrous tales you tell,
and I find happiness is changing almost everything I do.
-S.J. Tucker
January 9, 1934
Dear Drellâ”
I came up to the Hospital Wing to visit you on Wednesday night before detention, but you were already asleep and I didnât want to wake you up. I just stood there for a few minutes looking at you until Madam Prince made me leave.
I was hoping to be in detention with Selwyn so I could hex him into the next century, but it seems now that heâs been suspended, which I fully support. So I suppose I canât complain. I still am so angry with him, though I know youâll tell me not to be. How can I help myself? I used to think it was just an expression, but when I saw him hit you I actually saw red, I was so angry. Anyway, I admire the way you seem to have put it behind you, but donât expect me to be as successful.
Will you meet me in the Owlery at one a.m. tomorrow night (or, technically, Saturday morning), after my detention? I know you donât want to get caught again, so if you would like me to I could find a way to distract Pringle. Whenever Iâm not thinking about revenge on Selwyn, Iâm wondering what you are going to try to explain to me, and wanting to see you again. I hope you are feeling all right and that I havenât done anything to upset you by talking to the Professors about what happened.
Yours,
Sep
January 10, 1934
Dear Sep,
I will be there tonight. I looked up a useful charm in the library today and I have been practicing, so some sort of diversion (I donât even want to know what you were planning) wonât be necessary.
I want to tell you to stop being angry at Selwyn, but I feel that this is a vain hope. So I will settle for pleading you to leave him alone. Drawing any more attention to the situation would be very bad for me, I assure you.
I am feeling quite well. Wednesday was a bad day for me, but Iâve been much better since then. Enjoy detention tonight. (Actually, I wouldnât be surprised if you did).
See you soon,
Cedrella
**
âSoâŚwhatâs your favorite childhood memory?â
âWhat kind of a question is that?â
âYou told me I could ask you anything!â
âNo, I told you I would try to explain anything you wanted to know.â
âWell, I want to know about you childhood.â
âFine, fine! Let me think.â Cedrella paused, looking up at the owls, perched and circling above their heads. She and Septimus were once more seated under the window in the Owlery, Mathias poking around in the straw for scraps nearby. It was another cold night, but Cedrellaâs sweater and Septimusâ closeness more than made up for it, even though they had been sitting there on the stones for over an hour already. âI suppose my best memory is of Christmas when I was⌠eight, I believe,â Cedrella said finally. âNone of us were old enough to go to parties yet, so my parents left my sisters and I at my Uncle Cygnusâ house while they went to the Christmas Eve Ball. My aunt and uncle and my cousin Pollux all went, too, so my cousinsâ grandmother was supposed to be minding us, along with the house-elves, but she fell asleep in the drawing room while we were playing gobstones, and so it was just the five of us, all night. Callidora and Cassiopeia were ten, and they were terribly excited to be going to Hogwarts in the fall. So we all played that we were at Hogwarts, and it was Christmas. Callidora got to be the Head of Slytherin, because she was oldest, and Cassiopeia pretended she was Head of Ravenclaw, and the rest of us were students. We pretended we were at a feast, and made the house-elves give us all the sweets in the house. And then we opened all the gifts under their Christmas tree early, and built a fort and pretended it was the Slytherin Common Room.â Cedrella looked back at Septimus, smiling reminiscently. âWe werenât allowed to play imaginary games usually, you see. Callidora and I used to, though, before she left for Hogwarts. This was probably one of the last times. But we got in terrible trouble afterwards. Father wouldnât let us play with our cousins for months, and we allâŚâ She trailed off, touching one of the thin, faint scars on her wrist.
âWhat?â Septimus asked, looking at her wrist too.
âNever mind. It was a grand Christmas, though.â
âIt sounds like it,â Septimus said. âYou all sound almost human.â But his joking tone was halfhearted, and he had taken her arm and was examining her wrist, tracing the thin, criss-crossing, identical scars. There were six of them. Cedrella held her breath, waiting. Finally Septimus looked up at her. âThese arenât from owl talons, are they?â he asked slowly.
âNo,â she said.
âYou told me you were going to explain, Drell,â he reminded her, when she did not elaborate.
Cedrella sighed. âI know. Iâm just worried you wonât understand. Your family is so different from mine. Some thingsâŚsome things just are the way they are with the Blacks. There are rules, and a code of conduct.â She was stalling, and she knew it. She had decided to be friends with Septimus, she had decided to tell him about herself, to open up. But it was still strange, and about some things it was still hard. She knew quite well that the ways he understood things like family were vastly different from her own.
âI know itâs different. It doesnât mean I like it, butâ”â
âAnd you wonât. Like it, I mean.â Cedrella looked up at him. âThat Christmas, my Father took my sisters and I into his study and punished us for what we had done,â she said. âHe hit Callidora the most times, because she was the oldest and was supposed to be responsible for us. He hit me twice. There, and there,â she pointed out the scars. âHe only hit Charis once, because she was only six and she started crying so hard when she saw his wand. That was the only time weâve ever all been punished at once, I think Mother told him not to do that again.â
âBut heâs done it individually? Again?â Septimus said, aghast.
âYes,â Cedrella said. She pulled up her other sleeve to show Septimus four more scars, and then turned her head so that the moonlight fell across the two, even thinner lines on her cheek. âOnly a few times, but yes.â
âOnly a fewâ”Drell, how can you even say that? This is worse than Selwyn, this is a hundred times worse, itâsâ”â
âNo, Septimus, itâs not. You donât understand. Rodney Selwyn hit me like a Muggle because I made him angry, and even my father would say he deserved punishment for doing that to a girl his own age, who isnât part of his family. It isnât the same thing at all. My fatherâ”itâs not unusual, what he does. I hate it, and Iâm afraid of him, but thatâs just the way it is. Itâs my family.â
Septimus had taken both of her hands and kissed each scar as she spoke. Now he leaned forward and pressed him lips to her cheek, twice. Cedrella looked down, her pulse fluttering. âListen,â he said then. âAnything that makes you afraid for your safety around your own family is not all right. I donât care what âPureblood societyâ or whatever rubbish you all subscribe to says is normal, itâs wrong.â
Cedrella bit her lip. He was reacting exactly as she had expected. How was she supposed to explain this to a chivalrous Gryffindor with a family like Septimusâ? How could she ever tell someone like that that he was the exception, not the rule? âI told you you wouldnât understand.â
âIf you want me to say that thatâs okay, then maybe not.â He stared at her. âHow can you be so normal?â he asked wonderingly. âAfter growing up with people who think like that?â
Cedrella laughed bitterly. âNormal? Iâm not normal, thatâs the problem, isnât it?â
âMaybe,â Septimus said. He put an arm around her. âBut I donât see any problems.â
Cedrella leaned into his shoulder, ignoring the part of her that told her not to, that part of her that still feebly cried for her to Obliviate him and run away as fast as she could. She was getting good at ignoring that part. âI see them,â she told Septimus. âBut I donât care about them, not for now.â
âThatâs the spirit.â He smoothed her hair, caressed her hands. Cedrella closed her eyes and held still, feeling warm despite the winter chill, wishing they could sit like this forever. The soft sounds of owls and the smells of straw and crisp night air surrounded her, and though she had just revealed her dark secret to a Gryffindor boy who could never understand it, she felt happy. Her pulse was still thrumming in her chest, but it was pleasant, not frightening.
Eventually, Septimus sat up straighter. âWill you tell me something else?â
âMaybe,â Cedrella said.
âWhat made you change your mind?â
âAbout what?â
âMe. In detention the other night, you ran away, and I thought you didnât want toâŚâ he paused awkwardly. âYou know, see me. Like that.â
âI didnât change my mind,â Cedrella said. âI just made it up, thatâs all.â She smiled at him. âI was afraid of... being abnormal, I suppose. But I decided that while Iâm still at Hogwarts, I should do what I want. Thatâs the point, right? And I wantâŚI want to be friends with you.â
âJust friends?â
âWellâŚâ Cedrella looked down bashfully, unsure of exactly how to respond.
âCan I kiss you again?â
âI thought you said it was my turn,â she said, looking up again and marveling that her voice was so steady when her heart was racing so fast.
âI was sort of joking,â Septimus muttered. âBut if, you know, you want toâŚâ
They looked at one another, unsure, giddy. And then, very hesitantly, Cedrella leaned in and, slowly, touched her mouth to his. It was a soft kiss, a shy kiss. She pulled away slightly, their noses still brushing, and looked questioningly at Septimus. He grinned a boyish smile, as if heâd just won a game or perhaps laid eyes on an especially large slice of birthday cake. And that, combined with the warm swelling of her own heart, was all the answer Cedrella needed. I adore you, she thought, and leaned forward once more.
The third kiss was the best yet.
**
January snow soon melted into February slush and rain. Slytherin beat Ravenclaw in their next Quidditch match and Ravenclaw defeated Hufflepuff, putting Gryffindor and Slytherin in the top two spots. Rodney Selwyn returned to Hogwarts to commence his weeks of detention, studiously ignoring Cedrella whenever their paths crossed. And though Cedrella herself felt rather as though she was constantly balancing on the tip of a knife, she was happy. Happier, in fact, than she had ever been in her life. All the half-lies, the sneaking around, the loss of sleep, the avoidances and the silences and the extra work that being with Septimus requiredâ”they all seemed insignificant most of the time. They paled in comparison to the time she spent with him. Late night meetings in the Owlery, whispered conversations in the library, notes and letters tucked into her cloak pockets and textbooks, fleeting, secretive smiles in the corridors⌠all of it was worth it. Or so Cedrella felt, at least most of the time. It was only when she was with Charis that she was overcome with that sickening guilt at her deception and betrayal of everything she had ever tried to teach her sister. She canât find out, Cedrella thought at these times. She would never trust me again, and anyway she could never understand.
Sometimes, Cedrella was almost able to justify the lying. Charis, she reasoned, was already happy with her life and her friends. She wasnât dreading marriage and she wasnât clinging to her last year and a half of freedom. And everything was so much simpler to Charis, black or white. Charis could never do what Cedrella was doing. She could never understand why, or how. And if she lost respect for her sister, if she stopped listening to Cedrella, it would be worse for her. It was much better that she didnât know.
Cedrella had, after all, spent most of her life training herself what to think and how to think it. She could come up with things like that if she had to. But it didnât make any of it true. And it also didnât help that she had become so very good at ignoring things. How hedonistic Iâve become, she sometimes thought. Happiness now, consequences later?
Cedrella had tried discussing this problem with Septimus a few times, but they always ended up talking in circles, both refusing to budge. Septimus was stubborn and opinionated when it came to Cedrellaâs family, though he was always interested in hearing about them. âThatâs just wrong, Drell,â was a favorite saying of his when the topic came up, to which she would shake her head and say âyou just donât understand.â The argument had become so rehearsed that it was almost a joke, and usually ended in laughter.
Septimus might have been unhelpful, but he did understand the way Cedrella agonized over her relationship with her sister. They talked endlessly of their siblings; Cedrella almost felt like she knew Alex, Julius, Demetri, Rudy, Quint, and Tusy personally, and she was sure Septimus felt the same way about Charis and Callidora. Family wasnât the only thing they discussedâ”Cedrella finally gave in, after much teasing, and showed Septimus the progress she had made on her research project, and they spent happy hours pouring over books and notes, Septimus making amusing commentary all the while and Cedrella periodically swatting him with her quill to make him be quiet. They spoke of school, owls, Quidditch (Septimus was scandalized to learn that Cedrella had never flown a broom before), travel, and a vast selection of other things. Half the time Cedrella had no idea how a topic came up, or how they could spend hours conversing about it. Most of the time they could never agree on anything, and most of the time neither of them cared.
Then, of course, there were the times when they didnât speak at allâ”the times when Septimus would slip into Cedrellaâs corner of the library and kiss her fleetingly before dashing off again, or when they would simply sit in the Owlery, her head on his shoulder and his hand in her hair, wrapped up in one another to keep warm.
Even the post Cedrella received halfway through February, a letter from her father, did not damped her spirits. As usual, it had taken him weeks to respond to her last letter, which had âexplainedâ the detentions and the fight with Rodney Selwyn, but Cedrella didnât mind at all. It clearly was not on her fatherâs list of top priorities, which was exactly what she had hoped for. The letter was written on her fatherâs heavy, personalized stationary, stamped with the Black family crest, and it was very short.
February 12, 1934
Cedrella,
Your mother and I were displeased to hear about your detention. You must be more careful in the future and not allow it to happen again or your studies at Hogwarts may be at stake.
I have spoken to Robert Selwyn about the behavior of his son. Do not let it concern you further.
I have arranged for you and your sister to spend the Easter holidays at school while your mother and I vacation in France with the Malfoys.
Until June,
Your Father
Arcturus S. Black
Though Septimus was predictably enraged at her fatherâs cold manner when she showed him the letter that morning (âHow can he speak to you like that? Itâs as if he doesnât even know you!â), it lifted a great weight off of Cedrellaâs mind. Not only did her father seem to have dropped the Selwyn matter altogether, but he was allowing her to stay at Hogwarts over the holidaysâ”a rare treat. The silent threat of what was to come when she got home in June almost didnât matter, for she had been expecting something of the like and at any rate, she didnât have to worry about it for four months.
Charis, too, was pleased with the outcomeâ”not that she seemed to spare it much thought. The only part of the letter she took note of was the news that their parents were vacationing with the Malfoysâ”for Lucifer Malfoy had invited her to accompany him to Hogsmeade on Valentines Day and it seemed to Cedrella that her sister couldnât discuss any other topic for more than a minute. She merely said âOh, see, Cedrella, I knew it was all going to work out all right,â and then peered at her reflection in the back of her coffee spoon. âWill you do my hair on Friday? Youâre the only one who can make it go just rightâ”like that.â She gestured sweepingly with one hand and looked up at Cedrella expectantly.
Cedrella had sighed. âOf course I will, Charis. As long as you promise toâ”â
âBehave myself, I know, weâve been over this. Itâs a perfectly respectable date, Cedrella.â
âI know,â Cedrella said, glancing wistfully across the Great Hall to where Septimus sat with his Gryffindor friends.
âWhat are you looking at?â
âNothing,â Cedrella replied, returning to her breakfast.
âOh, donât sound so sad. You know perfectly well you could go to Hogsmeade with anyone at all if you wanted to.â
âWell, I donât want to,â Cedrella said crossly, wishing she had never started this conversation in the first place. Charis was impossible these days, and nearly always made her feel guilty as well.
âYouâll wish you had, when Father promises you to someone youâve never spoken to,â Charis taunted cheerfully.
âDonât sound so happy about it,â Cedrella snapped. âAnd you know Charis, you might not get to marry Lucifer anyway. There hasnât been any formal offer and he still has three years at Hogwarts after this. Things could change, or Father could get a better offer. Just because theyâre going to France together does not mean thatâ”â
âDonât be so cheerful, Black, youâll ruin everyoneâs morning.â It was Septimus, passing by the Slytherin table on his way out of the hall. He waved jovially and disappeared, still grinning.
Charis stared after him suspiciously. âDoes he still talk to you?â
âHe tries,â Cedrella murmured, looking down at her toast. She could feel something in her cloak pocket that Septimus had obviously just put thereâ”though thankfully, Charis didnât seem to have noticed that part. He was too reckless, he couldnât do things like thatâŚ
âWell, I donât like him.â Charis looked as though that settled the matter. âHe ought to leave you alone.â
âPrehaps,â Cedrella agreed noncommittally. âListen, Charis, I really do hope you have a good time with Lucifer. Iâll try not to be so pessimistic about it, I just donât like him very much, but I suppose it doesnât matter. Which hair combs do you want me to use?â
I know her too well, Cedrella thought, as Charis dropped her suspicious and cross manner instantly and began chattering on about her plans for her hair, her jewelry, and her shoes. When Charisâ friends turned up a few minutes later and whisked her away, her sister once again seemed cheerful and blissfully ignorant. Cedrella reached into her pocket the moment they had gone, wondering if it was a curse or a blessing that she could deceive her sister so easily.
February 13th
Drellâ”
I had a brainwave in detention last nightâ”we havenât asked Pepper if he knows anything about human-animal communication! He is just the type to know things like that, too. Will you meet me behind his cabin this afternoon at five? I will nick some food from the kitchens so we can have a picnic.
Have a great day, see you tonight, and happy early Valentines.
xx Sep
p.s. Mum sent a package of homemade truffles, and they are delicious. I have enclosed oneâ”enjoy!
Though it was early in the morning, Cedrella put the entire truffle in her mouth right away, letting it melt. Septimus was right, it was delicious and creamy. She looked back at the hastily scrawled note, slightly smeared with chocolate. Blessing, she thought with a smile, and pocketed the paper once more.
Fortuitously, Cedrella had Herbology that afternoon, so after the class had finished pruning their Snargaluffs she hung back, slowly hanging up her clippers and apron, and then slipped off to Pepperâs cabin. The rest of the class, Ravenclaws and her fellow Slytherins, were hurrying up to the castle for dinner, and she was fairly sure that no one had seen her running across the lawn. She supposed that she could have cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself as an extra precautionâ”one of the most useful things she had ever discovered in the Hogwarts Libraryâ”but she made it to the edge of the forest without incident and stopped to look around, slightly breathless.
Septimus sat on the gamekeeperâs back steps, Mathias on his wrist and a bright Gryffindor scarf tossed carelessly over his shoulders. He was looking up, talking to someone, and Cedrella realized that Pepper was up on his roof with a basket of straw, mending the thatch. Mathias spotted her first and gave a trilling call, flapping over to her. She held out her arm for him to land on and stroked his feathered back. âHi, Mat.â
He cooed back.
âItâs good to see you, too.â
âI see how it is, youâre just here for the owl,â Septimus said, grinning.
Cedrella made a show of ignoring him, kissing Mathiasâ head, but she could not keep the smile off of her face. Trying to tease Septimus was hopeless, especially when he had had so much more practice.
Mathias seemed to agree. He pecked her wrist affectionately and flew off in the direction of the forest. I will leave you to it, his departing screech said clearly.
âWhat did he say?â
âHe said he was going to leave us alone.â
âClever bird.â
Cedrella laughed and walked over to join Septimus on the steps. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dancing; as he often did he had the delighted air of a small child at a birthday party. It never failed to make her smile, and as she reached out to squeeze his hand he caught hers and held it.
Pepperâs head appeared above them. âWell hullo, Miz Black. Nice to see you again. Sep here said youâve got some questions for me?â
âI do,â she said, watching the big, ponytailed man maneuvering deftly around his roof and wondering how much she could trust him. It has seemed a brilliant idea that morning, but it now occurred to her that not only did the coarse gamekeeper know about her friendship with Septimus, but he would also soon know her other secretâ”the owls. She liked him, it was true, but did she really have any basis to believe that he wouldnât, over a tankard of ale, reveal her to the wrong people?
Septimus noticed the hesitation on her face. âDonât worry, Drell, heâs not going to say anything. He keeps his promises, Pepper.â
âSuch as promising to leave you unsupervised in detention?â Cedrella asked, raising her eyebrows.
Septimus grinned. âPrecisely. Come on, he has our best interests at heart.â
Cedrella believed him. Looking into Septimusâ earnest face, she could not imagine not trusting his judgment. Such a realization should have terrified herâ”and would have, only a few months ago. But she simply brushed her unease away and smiled back. She wanted to trust Pepper. And wasnât that the point of all this? Doing what she wanted, for a change?
She raised her voice once more. âWell, sirâ”I mean, Pepper, itâs about owls.â
Pepperâs head appeared over the edge of the roof again. âThis donât have to do with the little talk you were havinâ with olâ Mat a minute ago, do it?â
âAs a matter of fact it does,â Cedrella replied, giving him a small smile.
âCedrella has a bit of a way with owls,â Septimus added.
âHmph. Thought so.â Pepper tugged a bit of straw through the edge of the roof, weaving it with nimble fingers as he spoke. âTell you what, Miz Black, Iâve got to go check some traps in the forest in just a minute, but I can tell you this. The way you were talkinâ to Mat, reminds me of my olâ aunt. My Maâs sister. She used to teach here, Care of Magical Creatures, you know. Sheâs the one who got me this job. Anyway, she had loads of birdsâ”this falcon, used it for huntinâ, and lots of owls, and snidgets tooâ”her Pa used to breed âem before it was outlawed. The way she used to talk to âemâ”well, Miz Black, I never saw nothing like it before or since, âcept you just now with Mathias.â
Cedrellaâs heart was beating rather fast. âAnd it was all birds, not just owls?â
âSâfar as I know,â Pepper answered.
âDo you knowâ”do you perhaps have a family tree, Pepper? Do you know what your auntâs bloodlines were?â
The gamekeeper frowned. âWe donât keep track of those things much in my family,â he said. âBut my Ma and my aunt were half-bloods, I thinkâŚyeah, their Ma was from one of them old wealthy families. Flints, I thinkâŚdo that ring a bell?â
âYes!â Cedrella exclaimed, sitting up straighter. âI think thatâsâ”well, that makes senseâ”Iâll have to look it up somehow to be sure, butâ”â
âI think Pepper and I are missing something, here, Drell.â
Cedrella gave Septimus the requisite nasty look for using the nickname and said âMy grandmotherâs maiden name is Flint, Ursula Flint. And I know she had at least one sister, and perhaps some cousins on her fatherâs side. One of them could be related to your aunt!â She looked up at Pepper, who was regarding her interestedly. âI have been researching human-animal communication all year,â she said, the words spilling out of her in her excitement. âI have plenty of reason to believe that the ability is passed down though a complicated hereditary patternâ”and if the Flints could communicate with birds, then that may be the link to me! I had already run into a dead end with the Blacks, andâŚâ she trailed off at the sight of Septimusâ expression of barely contained laughter and swatted him on the arm with her free hand. âStop laughing, Sep, you know this is a breakthrough!â
He ignored this and chuckled, squeezing her hand he still held. âYouâre quite funny when youâre excited, Drell.â
âOh, do shut up.â
Pepper swung himself off the roof, landing neatly at their feet. âWell, Iâm glad I could help, Miz Black.â
âOh yes, thank you so much,â Cedrella said earnestly, ingorning Septimus who was now mouthing âDrell, Drell, DrellâŚâ under his breath at her. âIf you ever did come across a Flint family tree or record of any sort, I would be quite interested to see it, but youâve done enough as it is. Truly, thank you.â
Pepper shrugged off her praise, picking up his bow, a few traps, and a great canvas sack from the side of the cabin and swinging them over his shoulder. âWell if you ever want to hear more stories about my olâ Aunt Gloria, just come by, Miz Black. Sâ fascinatinâ stuff. And Iâll keep an eye out for them family trees.â He looked amused at the thought. âYou two have a nice picnic, now. See you tonight, Sep.â Pepper waved one large hand and strode away into the forest.
âWhatâs tonight?â Cedrella asked, turning to Septimus.
âDetention.â
âAgain? I thought they were over!â
Septimus had the grace to look slightly sheepish. âThey were, until Pringle found out that I was the one sneaking Bubotuber puss into his evening tea.â
âSepâ”â
âSkip the lecture, Drell, it was hilarious and perfectly harmless. Somebody had to wish him a not-so-happy Valentines Day. Besides, it was Quintâs idea, he still wants to get back at Pringle for catching him and a girl kissing behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered in his seventh year. I was just carrying out orders!â
He looked at her with such big, innocent eyes that Cedrella had to shake her head and laugh. âYou know, anybody would think that you actually enjoy detention.â
âSometimes I do,â he reminded her, and Cedrella felt herself flush.
âOh, right.â
Septimus laughed happily and turned to his school bag, which Cedrella now saw was full of food. âDinner, my lovely friend?â
âPlease.â
The sun went down behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest as they sat there on Pepperâs back steps, sharing the chicken sandwiches, olives, cherry pie, and pumpkin juice that Septimus had brought from the kitchens and talking, first about some of the Weasley brothersâ many run-ins with Pringle, and then about Pepperâs information and the next steps in Cedrellaâs research project. It was chilly, especially after the sun went down and the moon appeared over the lake, but they sat close together, and the air was sharp and fresh, and Cedrella didnât mind at all. Eventually, after the last bit of pie had been licked from their fingers, Septimus sighed contentedly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Cedrella leaned her head against his warm shoulder, closing her eyes. She had rarely ever felt so happy, which was something sheâd been thinking a lot in the past month, but somehow each day seemed to be better than the last. Cedrella wondered idly how much longer it could continue before she simply imploded with the sheer wonderfulness of it all.
âSo, I would ask you to come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow afternoon for Valentineâs Day,â Septimus said eventually, âbut I have a feeling that would be overly optimistic of me.â
âAnd you would be quite correct.â
âThought so. So then I was thinking we could just, you know, do something tomorrow night insteadâ”but then I, er, got three days of detention.â
âWonderful planning on your part,â Cedrella said, smiling into his shoulder.
âI know. So, would you mind if we did it Sunday night instead?â
âDid what?â
âWell, itâs a surprise.â His fingers combed through her hair.
âEverything with you is a surprise,â Cedrella said, which was quite true. It was one of the reasons she loved spending time with Septimusâ”everything he said, everything they did, everything she felt, was unexpected. She could predict and control almost everything else about her life, but not him.
âIs that a compliment?â
âOf course,â she said. âI would be awfully bored without you.â
She could tell Septimus was smiling. He seemed to teeter on the edge of saying something else, but then he said âSo youâre up for another surprise, then? A planned one, this time?â
âPerhaps,â Cedrella agreed.
âWill you meet me in the Owlery at eleven on Sunday night, then?â
It was remarkable to Cedrella how unsure he still sounded. Didnât he know that she wouldâ”no, could never ever say no? She pulled away a little and met his eyes. âOf course. I wouldnât miss it.â
âOh good.â They look at one another for a moment in the half-light of dusk, hesitating, and then Septimus leaned in and kissed her. Cedrella closed her eyes for a brief second, allowing that thrill in her stomach that definitely wasnât allowed to fill her up.
âI should go,â Septimus said at last. âI still have to report to Pringleâs office for detention.â
âAll right,â Cedrella agreed, thinking regretfully that it was probably better that he left now before she let this out of control, soaring feeling get the better of her. âYou go up first, Iâll follow in a few minutes.â
He stood up and gathered up the remains of their picnic into his school bag. Then he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. âGoodnight.â
She smiled up at him from her perch on the steps. It was so easy to smile now. âGoodnight.â
**
Cedrella was roused the next morning by Charis, who came into the dormitory she shared with the other sixth and seventh year Slytherin girls at seven in the morning wearing a silk dressing gown, a towel on her head, and a diamond necklace, in a state of tremendous excitement. Sleepily, Cedrella followed her sister down the hallway to the fourth yearsâ bathroom where she sat Charis down in front of the mirror and dried and combed her long brown hair. Charisâ roommates drifted in and out, some of them primping themselves for their own dates, others wistfully listening to Charisâ prattle about Lucifer Malfoy. None of them said anything to Cedrella, who got the impression that she made the younger girls rather nervous. She was thankful, for the last thing she wanted was Charisâ gossipy friends to interrogate her about her own lack of a date to Hogsmeade. But, as she carefully curled and pinned her sisterâs hair, she could not help wondering what her life might be like if she, like Charis, had a proper Valentineâs Day date and proper friends to talk about it with. Cedrella knew she would choose Septimus and the owls over Lucifer and Mattie any day, but in that moment the necessary secrecy of it all was frustrating.
Cedrella finished pinning Charisâ hair back in a half-up, elegant bun and secured it with a pair of emerald studded combs. Then she talked her sister out of wearing lipstick, cleaned a tiny smear of mascara off the corner of her eye, straightened her stockings, told her not to eat anything messy such as pasta or soup and once more to behave herself, and, satisfied, sent her off to breakfast. Then she returned to her dormitory to get ready herself. She planned to spend most of the day in the library looking up Flint family history, but there was a nagging thought in the back of her head: did she need to get Septimus something for Valentineâs Day? He had already given her such a beautiful, thoughtful Christmas present, and obviously had planned something for her once more. But what could she give him? Cedrella was not even sure what Septimus wasâ”her friend, yes, but obviously a bit more than that. But they werenât dating, for they had never been on a proper date, and nobody knew they even spoke to one another except the gamekeeper and a few owls. Cedrella knew that it was proper courtship etiquette for the man to give the woman presents, not the other way around. But did any of that really apply in this situation, anyway? What was so proper about her relationship with Septimus?
Unable to come to any decision, Cedrella ate a long breakfast in the Great Hall, read the Daily Prophet cover to cover, and then proceeded up to the library where she once again delved into the old records and the thick, dusty genealogies, this time looking for Flints rather than Blacks or Yaxleys. She had hoped to find Pepperâs birth announcement, or perhaps his parentsâ wedding announcement, as a place to start, but after an hour of looking through old files, she was forced to conclude that the Peppers, who certainly were not one of the old pureblood families, were simply not important enough to have anything announced in the Society section of the Prophet, especially upwards of fifty years ago, and that if a Flint had married a Pepper it would have been something for the family to conceal, not brag about. Cedrella found this interesting in itself, and decided that she was going to have to go back to Pepperâs and ask the gamekeeper more specific questions about his family. In the meantime, however, she abandoned the crumbling, dusty newspapers and turned back to the books of pureblood history, looking for any mention of a Gloria Flint.
She was still fully absorbed, her quill scratching down names and dates onto her sheaf of notes, when she felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped, looking around. It was Septimus.
âWhat are you doing here?â she whispered, rubbing a kink in her neck. âI thought you were going to Hogsmeade!â
âHavenât left yet,â he said. âI had Quidditch practice this morning, so I told my mates to go on without me. Sorry I startled you.â
âThatâs all right,â Cedrella said, glancing around the library, which appeared completely deserted. She wasnât surprisedâ”it was a Hogsmeade weekend, after all.
Septimus grinned, watching her. âCoast clear?â
âHush,â she said, pulling out the chair beside her.
He sat down. âWhat have you found?â
âNot much,â she admitted, paging through her notes. âPepperâs family isnât in the old newspapers at all, I will need to talk to him again and get a bit more information. The Flints on the other handâŚ.â She gestured at all the old genealogies. âPlenty, though not much of it is useful yet. Itâs all right, though, Iâm sure Iâll find it now.â
âI never had any doubt that you would.â He glanced down at the books. âNatureâs NobilityâŚ. Urgh. Are the Weasleys in there?â
âYes,â Cedrella said, surprised that he had asked. Septimus usually avoided talking about blood status unless it related to her research project. âIn the beginning, anyway. It stops following them about seventy years ago, though, because they became blood traitors.â She smiled apologetically.
âThat would probably be because my Granddad joined the Muggle Navy and than sent his youngest son to Muggle primary school,â Septimus said, grinning. âHe was a bit of a rebel, Granddad. He loved the ocean, thatâs why he wanted to be a sailor and get paid for it. Dad told me Granddad was hardly ever home when they were kids, he was always off at sea. And after his older brothers were all at Hogwarts, Granddad didnât want my dad to be lonely, so he sent him to Muggle school for a few years. Caused quite a scandal, apparently.â
Cedrella laughed. âThey should put that story in the book, itâs so much more entertaining thanâŚâ she picked up the book in question and turned to the page in question. ââThis line was hence contaminated due to association with Muggles and shall henceforth be called Traitors of the Blood, and this Noble Volume shall no longer be concerned or aware of it.ââ
âWow, ouch,â Septimus said, and they both laughed. âIâm so offended.â
âBe quiet, Traitor of the Blood,â Cedrella said, making a valiant effort to keep a straight face. She wasnât exactly sure what was so funny, or how she was able to sit here and make fun of the usually very serious topic of blood status, but it was funny, and she could, and Septimusâ answering laugh was absolutely infectious.
He caught her hand on top of the table. âListen,â he said, his eyes lighting up with sudden excitement. âForget about Sunday night, letâs go now. I donât need to go to Hogsmeade, and the library isnât going anywhere, and nobody is around. Letâs go.â
âGo where, Sep? And what about your detention?â
He waved a hand carelessly. âGo to⌠have my surprise! And it doesnât matter about detention, it will only infuriate Pringle more if I skip, which is a good thing, right?â he looked at her eagerly.
âWell I canât argue with that logic,â Cedrella said.
âExactly!â Septimus seemed to have missed (or decided to disregard) the sarcasm. He jumped to his feet. âWill you meet me in the Owlery in fifteen minutes? I have to get something.â
Cedrella looked at himâ”impulsive, carefree, grinning with excitement. She glanced back at her books and notes. And then she nodded. âOh, all right then.â
âExcellent. Itâs the perfect day for it, too, and youâllâ”well, Iâll see you in fifteen minutes then, Drell!â he bent over and kissed her lips for a fleeting second before turning away and dashing out of the library, his robes flying behind him.
Cedrella watched him go, smiling, not sure what had just happened but positive that her day was about to get a lot more interesting.
Soldiers by dominiqueweasley
Chapter Notes: Lots of things are changing for Cedrella, and most of them for the better.