The Black Family in Seven Parts
IV. Perfection
Cedrella was breathless with anticipation. It was her coming of age ball, when she was to be announced to pureblood society and her engagement to Caspar Crouch was to be formalized.
Cedrella's hair was elegantly arranged, her dress beautifully and perfectly fit. Her jewelry was artfully selected and she knew she looked just as her mother had always dreamed she would. And as Cedrella twirled in front of the mirror, she laughed giddily.
"You're a vision," her younger sister, Charis, sighed wistfully.
"Perfection, like always," her older sister, Callidora, grumbled, looking jealous.
"Brilliant Cedrella," Mother beamed. "I knew I could count on you to make an excellent impression on the Society. You are such a lady."
A vision, perfection, brilliant, a Lady: the way her family had always looked on her. The perfect pureblood daughter. Beautiful and quiet and always, always obedient.
Except, of course, for when she wasn't, Cedrella thought slyly, thinking of the ring hidden in her pocket and a bright smile on a freckled face.
"Are you ready, my daughter?" Father asked, coming into the room and beaming down at her.
Cedrella smiled demurely, "Yes Father." And she was. More than ready. In fact, she was dying for the ball to begin. "I'm ready."
"You look lovely, Cedrella," Father complimented.
"Caspar is going to be so thrilled, Ella!" Charis squealed.
"He's a lucky man to be getting you," Mother smiled. "My beautiful daughter."
For a moment, her parents beamed at her, looking unspeakably proud. Cedrella smiled sweetly back at them, repressing a smirk with difficulty. Finally, the clock chimed, breaking them out of their reverie.
"Alright, well," Father cleared his throat, suddenly businesslike. "Cedrella, it's time for us to leave you. Charis will stay with you, but Callidora, Harfang is waiting for you in the hall and Lysandra, the guests will be waiting for us. Good luck, Cedrella. I'm sure you'll make us proud." Father gave her a wide smile and everyone swept out of her bedroom except for Charis. Cedrella waited a moment. She heard the music begin to swell and knew that her parents and sister were beginning to walk down the staircase and into the ballroom.
"Charis, can you keep a secret?" Cedrella asked, suddenly spinning to face her little sister.
Charis's face lit up. "Of course I can!" Cedrella knew she couldn't. Charis—sweet, placid, dutiful Charis—never knew when to keep her mouth shut.
"Well," Cedrella gave Charis a sly smile, "You needn't keep it for long. I'm only telling you because you won't be there to see it and I know you hate being last to know. But I'm tired of being perfect."
"What do you mean, Ella?" Charis asked, confused and a little nervous. "How can you tire of being perfect? I wish I could be more like you. It's so hard disappointing Mother and Father all the time and it'd be nice if they'd be as proud of me as they are of you." She finished with a slightly wistful look on her face.
Cedrella laughed hollowly. "Proud? They're proud of a puppet! All my life, I've danced from their strings—be polite, Cedrella; be quiet, Cedrella; look beautiful, Cedrella; flirt with Caspar, Cedrella. I'm tired, Charis! I'm tired of listening to them—of trying to be perfect! I want to be able to laugh aloud at jokes everyone else thinks are crude. I want to be able to speak my mind without being frowned at and I want to dance in the rain and wear dirty clothes and lounge around in my pajamas all day! I want to become a Healer even if it isn't a proper job for a pureblood witch and I want to be successful and to marry a man I love, not someone picked for me because of their—their pedigree! I want—" Cedrella stopped. She hadn't meant to say all that. As Charis stared at her, mouth gaping, Cedrella took a slow breath and remembered slowing tracing out freckles and finding hidden constellations among them. Her pounding heart slowed as her anger seeped away. She gave Charis a real smile and said, "I'm finally going to be myself. I'm going to be me, not the perfect daughter they tried to make me."
Charis stared for a moment, her mouth closing at her brows furrowed together. Finally, she slowly asked, "Ella, what are you going to do?"
"Something stupid and improper and horrible, Charis. Something no one would ever dream of me doing. And, actually Char," Cedrella whispered, her eyes alight with happiness, "It's not what I'm going to do. It's what I've done."
And with that, Cedrella pulled out her ring, the ring her Septimus had given to her when they'd married last week, and she slid it on her finger.
"I'm no longer Cedrella Black, Charis," Cedrella beamed. "I'm Cedrella Weasley."
And, with that, Cedrella swept past her gaping sister and into the hallway.
Standing in the darkness near the staircase, Septimus stood in his best dress robes, a wide grin spread across his freckled face.
"Are you ready, love?" Septimus asked, gracefully bowing and offering her his arm.
"Of course," Cedrella grinned back.
"Wait! Wait!" Charis suddenly shouted, sprinting toward them, panicked. "Ella, you can't do this!"
But it was too late.
Perfect, Obedient, Beautiful, Pureblood Cedrella Black stepped forward and hooked arms with her Flawed, Blushing, Stuttering, Overly Curious, Red-Headed, Freckled, Blood Traitor of a husband.
And, arm in arm, Septimus and Cedrella Weasley strolled down the staircase to announce their marriage to the unsuspecting world.
