An Ode to Not Messing This Up, tag: Cecily

[barty c. crouch jr.]

Monday morning had come again, just as it did every week. The Great Hall was a loud ding of silverware and plates set to the sound of so many voices blending together that they made a single-noted symphony. Barty gingerly picked at his eggs while waiting the syrup for his French toast, the bottle making its rounds across from him and being generously used at that. His blonde hair was more mop-like today than usual, still damp from a quick morning shower. Clean and fresh himself, the sky looked ready to sleepily crawl back under the cover of night. Up above the Great Hall was a heavy layer of bright grey clouds. By the looks of it, there was little chance of rain with little chance of sunlight, either.

With Reg undoubtedly still asleep, Barty was left to the morning company of Evan and Augustus, who were in turn in the company of Flint, Karkaroff, and Snape. Barty purposefully sat on the outer fringe of this particular group, knowing what public association might look like if he joined them in putting all their heads together. The Death Eater group was not Barty’s usual haunt, but they did have a fair number of interesting news to share. Stories the Daily Prophet was too weak-kneed to publish or stories that hadn’t even come to light yet. They had all learned by now not to ask Barty what was going on in the Ministry Law Enforcement front or on the status of the Wizengamont. Even with all his connections, he honestly had no idea. One day, however, he would be a spy who would report back to the person who mattered rather than to these other underlings.

That sounded almost ambitious and Barty smiled around his orange juice glass as he took a satisfying drink. The day was gloomy but the future was bright, and that’s what really mattered. With French toast properly covered in syrup and promptly eaten—along with the eggs, sausage, bacon, and bits of fruit that made the meal feel at least a little well-rounded—Barty said his ’See you later’s to the group. He gathered up his bag and took a piece of toast for the journey to class. Down the aisle between Slytherin and Ravenclaw he went and, making a right, out into the entrance hall.

At the bottom of the Grand Staircase he had the sudden rush of pleasure at seeing Cecily Moran with a few of her Hufflepuff compatriots laughing together. Cecily Moran who seemed to be getting prettier every day, much to his enjoyment and horror. MacDougal he didn't quite know, but Morgan's older brother was in Slytherin, a year ahead of them all. That thought brought little comfort. In fact, it brought none. It was one thing to be related to someone in Hufflepuff, but fancying one was most irregular. He could feel the Slytherin pride wrapped tightly around his neck like a scarf, trying to ward him off by pulling him back. And then seeing the girls bunched together like that reminded him just how convenient it was to talk to Clearwater, who was so often on her own. For a rare moment in time, Barty glanced back into the Great Hall with the fleeting thought of going back inside and sitting for awhile to give the girls a chance to go about their way.

But no, he wouldn’t. Idiot, why would he even consider that? He knew those three, had done his bit by not being a complete ass to them in five long years, and he should be able to talk to them as he saw fit.

Cecily shifted her weight, or flipped her hair, or did something to draw back his attention, because suddenly Barty was moving forward as casually as he could under these dire circumstances. He passed by them on his right where he would get the best look at the Hufflepuff Chaser's pretty face. If he was going to greet them—not too unusual in and of itself, but he tried his best to mind his own business—he might as well get the maximum benefit from it.

A great benefit it was. What was that about not seeing the sun today?

Merlin help him.

He had gone mad.

Absolutely.

"MacDougal, Morgan," he said in greeting, distractedly realizing just how many M-names there were in Hufflepuff. But he saved the best for last, giving her the good smile as he added, "Good morning, Moran. Are you going to class yet, or is it still breakfast for you?" It was meant to be a general you, with him glancing at the other girls as well, but his attention most definitely went back to the one in focus. Groups did not frighten him away so much as they just watched and starred at him in that awkward manner of silence.

In any case, breakfast always had people coming and going, it was hard to tell who was finishing up and who was just getting started. It was worth a try asking, nonetheless, given that maybe they could walk to class together. Or he could walk her to class and run off to his own. He had a momentary gladness his friend was such a deep sleeper. Even for a little while, it was a chance to have Cecily’s company to himself. Her and, he realized, her two chaperones. He had not thought this one through very well, but it was too late to remedy it now and there were few other options anyhow.

[cecily a. moran]

Not one to sleep in very often, and especially not on school days, Cecily woke up earlier that Monday morning. Having remembered in her half-asleep state that she had neglected to do one of her school assignments due today, she sad quickly made her way to the Great Hall first thing had gotten herself a quick breakfast before returning to the Hufflepuff common room in the dungeons to do her homework. A few pieces of toast, a couple sausages, and an apple really wasn't much as she thought about it, but it would have to do. It would at least get her through to lunch, even if her stomach decided to gnaw at itself in that last hour in anticipation.

It wasn't that Cecily was a bad student or even a lazy one, she was just, well, easily distracted. She valued her education and always had every intention of doing her assignments ahead of time but then all those happy little distractions would come around and tantalize her. That had been the case this weekend. She had, now that she opened her books and saw the nearly blank piece of paper, actually started the assignment but hadn't finished. She thought back to what had distracted her this time. Oh yes, the other girls in her dorm had found her and dragged her out of the common room with them to walk around the castle and talk. Then on her way back to the common room she had run into more people, talked to them, then had run into the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain who wanted to do an emergency practice.

After that, she had forgotten all about the lone assignment until now.

She had luckily finished the assignment just as the other girls were waking up to get dressed. Following suit by brushing her hair and making sure she looked a little more put together than she had when running to the Great Hall an hour ago, Cecily followed the other girls out of the Common Room with her school things in tow as they headed towards the Great Hall. MacDougal and Morgan were in fierce debate regarding the various boys at Hogwarts and some of the things they were saying would have even made the Bloody Baron blush. She loved the girls, she had known them since first year, but they could be so rediculous sometimes.

Letting out a laugh as they turned the corner, the three girls continued giggling as they approached the Great Hall.

"MacDougal, Morgan,"

The three girls turned to see Barty standing there, greeting them. Her two companions didn't seem too impressed by the boy, especially considering what they had just been giggling so fiercely over. Cecily just hoped there still wasn't a blush in her cheeks from the conversation. Despite the two girls' disposition towards many of the Slytherins, Cecily really didn't hide that if she wasn't with these two or her teammates she was usually with one or both of the Slytherin boys in their year: Regulus Black and the boy standing before them, Barty Crouch Jr. Some of the other Hufflepuffs really didn't understand, but Cecily honestly did enjoy their company.

"Good morning, Moran. Are you going to class yet, or is it still breakfast for you?"

Returning his smile with a warm one of her own, she heard the other two girls answer his question, noting that they were going to breakfast. Taking the slightest step forward towrds Barty, she tucked a rouge piece of hair behind her ear. "Good morning, Barty. I actually ate already, so I was thinking of heading to class." She turned towards her friends, "I'll see you both later, yeah?" They nodded and left, somewhat reluctantly she noted. She knew they had wanted to continue their previous conversation with her there, but as Cecily took in the fact the Barty was alone, for once, she had decided it probably wouldn't be a bad endeavor to let the other girls go on to their breakfast. "Black's not with you this morning I see. That's a pleasant change." she laughed lightly, she really couldn't remember the last time she had talked to Barty without Regulus being right there."Where are you headed to?"

[barty c. crouch jr.]

With the three girls standing in something of a triangle formation, Barty’s placement was confronted with certain positives and negatives. The positive was that he had the pleasure of standing directly across from, and therefore in front of, Cecily. This in and of itself was a non-issue. Standing across from her had happened before on many occasions, both accidental and very much on purpose. Given his certain growing fondness—was there a better word for it? He tried not to think about it—for her company, however, had it definitely rising in the positive-places-to-be category. As opposed to the negative-places-to-be category, which included detention, the Ministry, or in that spotlight while answering all of the Professor’s questions because no one else had bothered to do the homework.

Another positive was her character. In other words, he was thankful that she was not the sort to hide behind her companions, mumble, or blush and turn away. Although at the moment it did seem she was indeed blushing lightly. A little forlorn, he did acknowledge that it had little to do with her pleasure at seeing him.

The indication came in the pair of two unimpressed, yet also blushing, faces. There stood the negatives of his situation. Standing where he was, Morgan and MacDougal seemed like two gargoyles guarding the pathway. Thinking of them as gargoyles was a bit unfair of him since the two were pretty enough in general. Yet considering the circumstances of one with a face faintly pink, the other with a face blood red down to the neck, and both answering him in a casual way that they were going to breakfast, they gave off that intimidated air that he was an outsider. In that moment he could almost sense the short mutual agreement between him and those two that the girls were going to go their own way and he was to head off on his own way and the world was to keep turning as it should. Luckily it wasn’t from them that he was seeking approval from.

Nonetheless, there was a single moment, a single heartbeat, of mild disappointment which he kept cleanly off his face even if his smile wilted a fraction in that moment. So they were going to breakfast. It seemed obvious that they were coming out of their little badger hole near the Kitchens, stopping by the stairs to speak out of earshot, and get a good laugh in before joining the crowd.

But then Cecily spoke and he could hardly believe his luck. Honest, brilliant luck.

Barty smiled brightly again and couldn’t keep back the surprised, if perfectly pleased, “Really?” escaping him at her admittance to already having eaten. Then her gargoyles were dismissed, ladies-in-waiting excused, friends detached from. MacDougal gave him a final suspicious look as though he had done something wrong—which in a way he had, but he silently assured her that it was for a good cause and that his intentions were entirely pure. At least, he thought so.

So Cecily may not have been blushing from Barty’s arrival, but basically hearing her say being alone with him was a pleasant change had him grinning and shifting his weight. The toast in his hand crumbled a little between his fingers, luckily not getting crumbs anywhere conspicuous. Her laughter made the Great Hall’s symphony sound like a boisterous cacophony of banging pans. “He seemed to decide a lie in was better than breakfast.” Speaking unabashedly, he added, “I’m quite glad I picked the latter.”

“I was just heading to,” Barty began, but when he crunched the toast in his hand, he remembered that it was very much a class-filled Monday, “Arithmancy.” The seven floor climb was not one to look forward to. “How about you? His eyes flickered over to where he saw MacDougal and Morgan joining the Hufflepuff table. It put to point that even though a few people were walking to and from the hall, passing by him and her, at the moment he had Cecily all to himself. "It’s early enough so perhaps I can walk you…?” It came more as more as a casual, hopeful question. Not nearly as confident as he wanted. Ambition or perseverance he could handle so long as he kept his foolhardiness at bay.

[cecily a. moran]

She really wasn't sure why her two friends disliked the Slytherins so much. She was sure it wasn't Barty himself that they didn't like, that was just silly in her mind, so it had to just be the house that he was in. Though that assumption sounded equally as silly because it wasn't like your house was a definitive measure of your personality or how good of a person you were. Or, at least, that's what Cecily believed was true. Though most of that thought process came from her severely dislike of people assuming she must be some unintelligent boring dolt because she was in Hufflepuff.

Now that she thought, though...she didn't really know much about Barty. She knew he was new to his Quidditch team and that he came from a respected pureblood family. She knew he was quite intelligent from the classes they had together, as well. He was a very impressive individual, but that was all she really knew about the boy--that he was impressive. She really did have to change that. After all, if he was Reg's friend then he couldn't be all that bad. Then again, Cecily did have the unfortunate curse to be too trusting and too assuming about her friendships with others. Not that she thought that way, but it was unfortunate.

Cecily smiled happily at Barty's apparent pleasure that she was not off to the Great Hall for breakfast this morning with her friends. She waved goodbye at her friends, ignoring the varied looks on their faces at the thought of leaving her alone with Barty. You would think they assumed her incapable of making good decisions, like she was some child; a little sister they were in charge of watching over. It got quite annoying sometimes. "Yes. It's been a long morning for me already. I had breakfast first thing before finishing a last minute essay." She admitted with a small smile.

Not quite sure how to take his addition of being glad he had chosen to go to breakfast instead of sleeping in, Cecily just gave him a warm smile in response. Stupidly she could assume he just meant he was glad he chose to be productive with his day, but perhaps he was hinting that he was glad because he ran into her. The thought brought a bit of the previous blush back into her cheeks.

The toast in his hand caught her attention, "I know it's a Monday, Barty, but don't take it out on the poor piece of toast." She chuckled, observing the crumbs that had fallen on the stone floor. Arithmancy was one of those classes that never had appealed to her. Perhaps if she had given it a chance, but at face value she had shied away from the subject when choosing extra classes in her third year to take. "Ancient Studies for me." A bright smile overtook her features at his offer. She had silently been hoping to be able to talk to him longer than a brief run in here at the bottom of the steps. "Of course, I would love that." Part of her hoped she didn't sound too happy to accept his offer.