Camp Potter II [History Appreciation - Cedrella Black]
Family Regained
The graceful and perfect second daughter of Arcturus and Lysandra, the pride of the family, Cedrella Black, had fallen in love with a Weasley. The idea would have been ludicrous to anyone who knew her family.
They hated the Weasleys. Their children were never given any chance to associate, or even talk to the Weasley children despite them being around the same age. It had been strictly disallowed. Their parents had created stories surrounding the Weasleys, that were meant purely to make them believe that the Weasleys were not worth associating with.
Her parents' influence had stopped at Hogwarts.
Hogwarts, where everything changed and their parents were not able to stop them from communicating with anyone within her walls. Her parents had been too far away for their words to be even the slightest bit effective.
She had met him within those mysterious walls. He had been searching for something, and she had been unable to stop herself from helping him. She had never been abel to stop herself from helping anyone. Her parents had often saw that as her weakness, maybe it was.
Perhaps it had been silly, but she had always been the kindest of the Black sisters, unable to stop herself from helping someone in need. He had been in need in that moment when she had happened upon him. He had been frantic, and had that worried look in his eye. She hadn't been able to help herself, and the shadows had been too small to hide her.
He had been wary at first, naturally so. He had probably been told since birth of the hate that ran between their families because of their differing views. They had probably been cast to look like monsters that hated muggleborns on principle and wished them dead.
She had never been able to wish death on anyone in her life. She had been hard pressed to even hate anyone, no matter what they did to her. That had possibly been why Charis and Callidora liked 'protecting' her. They were always able to use that as an excuse to practice their newest hex or curse on that person. They hadn't really cared whether the person was muggleborn or pureblood, though, and soon enough no one would even look her way in fear of igniting her sisters' wrath.
He probably expected her to hex him, or taunt him, possibly believing she had the same cruel streak as her sisters. She honestly expected the same from him, but he hadn't. They had spent the entire afternoon searching for an evasive cat that had eventually made its way into one of the classrooms that was barely used anymore, several staircases above their place of meeting.
They had parted after that, the silence after the brief 'thanks' growing awkward. She honestly did not expect much after that. A singular afternoon could mean nothing and was easily forgotten, but once you knew a person you began seeing them everywhere you went.
The small nods of acknowledgement as they passed each other on the corridor grew until they were meeting up in the library to study on a weekly basis, neither of them quite knowing how they had even begun talking.
Everything had happened from that point. Somehow.
Her sisters and parents had not been happy about her new association with Septimus, as it had led to her having a closer contact with the ideals of the Weasley Clan, the blood-traitor ideals.
They had known her kindness would sympathize with that way of thinking. They had been right, and the kind daughter they had raised was beginning to reject the ideals they had instilled within her. They had naturally been furious.
She had not been ready for the harsh words or anger that had been directed at her. She had never been reprimanded or spoken harshly towards by her parents prior to that cold, wet morning when her last contact with the Black family had been broken. She had been absolutely silent, shocked, as she was screamed at by her mother, then disowned without what seemed like a second thought.
Despite their tears, she knew Charis and Callidora had been pleased. They had always been outshone by her, and had often complained about it in the common room while she was in earshot to their friends. She wouldn't be surprised if the two were faking their tears for all the honesty they showed in their emotions.
It didn't matter. None of it did. Not in that moment.
She was hurt but all she could feel as she was enveloped in strong arms was the warm feeling in her chest of someone caring, and loving her for who she was.
Even though the Weasley home was nowhere as grand or majestic as the Black Manor was, it felt more like a home than the she knew the cool manor of her childhood ever would be. Septimus's mother had taken one look at her bedraggles form on their doorstep and enveloped her in warmth, dragging her to the fireplace while summoning dry clothes for her. Her own mother had never done that while she had been shivering as she entered the house once.
It was Septimus's arms she was cuddled into. He was the warmth she was leaning into, and the only person she had left. He was the one person she hoped, perhaps being a bit more forward than she should be, would become the start of her new family.
There were only a few of her family members that had married for love. She wanted to be one of them. She had already been disowned, but that was okay.
Being disowned didn't make a difference. The warmth she felt whenever she saw him smile at her was more than worth it.
Being able to say "I love you" and mean it, receiving a reply that was just as heartfelt was worth much more than a family that was detached and only married for greed.
She was happy, and it her birth family was the price she was to pay for happiness, it was most definitely a price she was willing to pay.