Chapter Five

Cedrella and George left the library, leaving Septimus alone with Lucy who seemed intent upon making small talk. It wasn't that she was boring exactly, but she wasn't interesting either.

"So, Quidditch tryouts are on Saturday, will you be there?" she asked.

What kind of a question was that? "I'm the keeper, they can't really hold tryouts without me"

"Right. Well, I was, um... Kind of thinking of trying out. Do you think that I will have a chance?"

Honestly, he had no idea. He didn't remember ever actually seeing Lucy fly, although he didn't remember Lucy doing much at all. She had shoulder length brown hair, clear skin, brown eyes, a slightly oversized nose and was basically, really average and really forgettable. He supposed it wasn't just him though, Lucy was just one of those people who got overlooked, she had a couple of friends but none of them were particularly noticeable either, her grades were average. She was Cedrella's polar opposite, everyone took notice of Cedrella and her sisters- and if they didn't, they regretted it. Like that time in third year when Callidora hexed the Hufflepuff boy who ignored her (out of fear) when she talked to him. He couldn't talk properly for a week.

"Yeah, um, sure," said Septimus, "You should go for it." And with that he pushed past her and headed out of the library.

Cedrella knew what Professor Wolve wanted before she even reached his office and so wasn't surprised at all when she sat down and was presented a lecture on representing her house well, with added stress on the importance of winning.

"Cedrella- I have great faith that you will reach the final, after all we both know George isn't the brightest wizard of the bunch without a neighbour to copy off. It would, however, look rather awful if Slytherin house were to lose to a Gryffindor, worse, to Weasley when we reach that stage. I'm sure your father would agree," Wolve paused, and Cedrella nodded. She saw where this was going. "I have of course sent an invitation to your family to watch the final of the competition, I'm sure they'll be proud to see you doing so well."

Cedrella smiled politely. "I'm sure they will."

How typical. Wolve was pressuring her in the best way he knew how- by having her family do all the work for him. She was certain there'd be an owl in the morning from her mother, if not her father, wanting to know how she was preparing for the 'big competition', explaining how the 'family pride' was on the line. Family pride was definitely haunting her, everything she did came back to how it would reflect on the family, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She had to resist rolling her eyes.

"Is that all, professor?"

He smiled. "Yes, thank you. Oh, and Miss Black?" he added as she began to exit, "I really shouldn't let you off with that uniform you know."

No, she thought as she closed the door behind her. You shouldn't.

As she headed out of the office she wasn't surprised to see Callidora lingering outside (her typical entourage of male and female admirers behind her). She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "What did Wolve want?"

"To give me a lecture about this competition. Family pride, house pride, etcetera etcetera. He's invited mother and father over for the final in a couple of weeks."

Callidora smiled. "Looks like you'll be the new family favourite then."

"I doubt that very much, you have prettier hair. My so-called brains aren't going to attract the richest suitors now, are they?"

Callidora laughed lightly, brushing a black curl off her shoulder. "Perhaps the richest will prefer straight hair, and after all you could always charm it like mine. Don't pretend like you don't know how – what with your brains and all."

"Maybe," she smiled.

"See, already beyond fourth year …But what I really wanted to ask about – is it true that you're working with that Weasley boy?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Not necessarily unfortunate…We should never turn down the opportunity to show a blood traitor up after all, at least this way you'll both be in the final."

"I suppose so," said Cedrella.

"And Slytherin are all set to slay Gryffindor at quidditch this year as well, things are exactly as they should be."

Cedrella smiled, although she was one of those rare people who really, really could not care less about quidditch. "Looks like it, sis."

Hogwarts at night was one of Cedrella's favourite things. Sneaking out was risky, but she'd never been caught by anyone other than Wolve before now, and so it was worth it. Sitting outside with the shadowy castle behind her, shimmering reflections of the lake ahead, reading by witchlight – it was the one time she felt truly at home.

Interruptions were surprisingly common, sneaking giggles from here and there, echoing across the grounds, the occasional shout – but she blocked all of it out. She had an enormous collection of books, written by talented witches and wizards through the ages, passed down to her, fact and fiction alike. She loved nothing better, and was wrapped up in the world of Maude, a bright young witch forced to make her own way in the world, on the run from the ministry of magic for something her younger brother did, when that night's distraction arrived. He stood right over her, one interruption she couldn't ignore.

"Is that book going to help you in the competition?"

She wasn't even remotely surprised to see a thick figure, and head full of ginger hair looming over her. She gave him her best cold glare.

"What are you doing here?"

"Breaking the rules, same as you."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep, so I decided to go for a walk."

"And you couldn't go for a walk on the other side of the castle? Can't you see I'm trying to read?"

She hated nothing more than being interrupted when she was in another world.

"I didn't have you down as the reading stories type."

She scowled. "And what is that supposed to mean?!"

"Uh, nothing," he said, alarmed at how her eyes seemed to have suddenly come alive, a burning black, rather than their usual cool glaze, "Just I don't know. It's kind of airy-fairy isn't it? And you're well…"

"Well?"

"Not."

"I'm not?"

"No. You're supposed to be like… ice or whatever aren't you? You Black sisters? Beautiful, untouchable ice sculptures?"

The edge of her lip turned up. Normally she would let the compliment float right over her, she was used to them after all. But...From him?

"Beautiful? Untouchable?" she asked, mimicking her sister's perfect single raised eyebrow look.

He seemed to have regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth and shrugged, slightly bashful. "It was just something my friend said. Or at least that's how you want everyone to see you…"

"Are you saying that's not how I am?" she challenged, the cool gaze back, moonlight reflecting from her hair, as if determined to be seen in the right way again.

He glanced at the book in her hand, "All I'm saying is that cool ice sculptures don't read the same books as my mum."

She stared at the book in her hand, torn between the story of Maude and the instinct to drop anything associated with them. It was like it had turned to fire in her hands, and she settled for snapping it shut.

She stood up, shorter than him for once without those heels, and headed towards the castle.

"Goodnight, Black," he called, his words echoing after her.

A/N I suck at updating. But to anyone who's stuck with me, wow. Thank you!

And hopefully now I'm back into it, I shall update more often again.