Ascendancy - Book I of the 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

XXII. 23rd December 1931 - the goodbye

"Hurry up Cedrella, the train will leave without us!"

Cedrella grotesquely copied her cousin, sticking out her tongue, her things still scattered on the bed. The day before she had wanted to take only a pair of trousers and a jumper, but Cassiopeia had reminded her that they were going to see a lot of people and had urged her to get ready to visit royalty. It was maddening. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling that this Christmas holiday was going to be hell.

"I hope Mother has already taken my ball dress," Charis commented as she packed her suitcase. "This year the holidays are so late that I won't even be able to choose it myself."

Miss-I'm-still-going-to-look-at-all-things was back. Cedrella dreamed of a world where no hypocritical family member was at Hogwarts. She would be free of every action, would not have to justify herself to anyone... what an utopia.

"At least you can choose the one on New Year's Day," Cedrella replied out of pure boredom."

"I don't know, on the 28th there's already the purebloods' meeting for…"

"Wait, what? What's on the 28th?"

Charis raised an eyebrow, surprised that she hadn't heard of this meeting.

"For the list. All the purebloods are meeting in our mausoleum on the 28th."

Cedrella sighed in discouragement. She hated this place. Everywhere she turned her head, she saw tombstones or statues, each more gory than the last. The last time she'd been there had been for Elladora Black's funeral, and she'd hoped never to return for the next ten years. Whose stupid idea was it to gather the purebloods there?

"Me," Cassiopeia answered as she entered the room.

She was seriously getting on his nerves.

"Stop reading my mind!

"When you will  learn to close your mind. Charis, Dorea is looking for her blue hat. Have you seen it anywhere?"

"I think she left it in the Common Room."

"Thank you, Charis. Cedrella, for the last time, hurry up."

"Yes, yes!"

There was too much movement, too much reprimanding, she was beginning to get fed up. She desperately threw her things into the suitcase, not even trying to fold them. Charis glanced disdainfully at what she was doing, but Cedrella paid no attention. Her little sister's opinion was the last thing she wanted to hear.

When she went down to the Slytherin Common Room, her sisters and cousins had already left. Only the students remaining at Hogwarts for the holidays were left. Cedrella thought that if she managed to miss the Hogwarts Express, she might be able to stay here in peace. But no, of course. Regulus would be happy to pick her up, as he had done two years before. She had not enjoyed the experience.

In the manner of a slaughterhouse, she pulled her suitcase into the corridor with a breathless look. She hated holidays. She hated her family. She hated everything, everything, absolutely everything. Why was she born among all these hypocrites? Why wasn't she even allowed to stay at school during the holidays?

As she stirred her incessant complaints, something grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a corner of the corridor. She let out a small scream. Immediately, lips crashed against hers, and her heart jerked with excitement. Oh yes, she loved this. She loved it too much. Her hands drowned in the red hair of an impatient, mouth-eating Weasley. She was going to miss him. She was going to miss him so much.

With a manly gesture, he lifted her skirt and slid his hand up her thigh. Cedrella moaned with pleasure, asking for more. She might be late for the train, and she might even miss it, but she didn't care. Her world came down to the boy who was kissing her with more passion than any other in the world. With clumsy movements, she undid the buckle of his belt and pulled on his tie to draw him even closer to her. He pressed her against the wall and lifted her slightly. Overcome with emotion, she wrapped her legs around his hips and let him enter her, her cheeks flushed with the effort. A cry of pleasure came from her throat. She tilted her head back, presenting the bare skin of her neck to a devourer of flesh. Septimus placed a thousand kisses on it, as he penetrated her with force and still too much passion. Passion was what summed them up. No other thing could have brought a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together than the fire that came from the heart. And that fire consumed her, consumed her whole…