Two Can Keep a Secret If... Something... Closed

Cecily's short, 14-year-old life flashed before her eyes as she nearly face-planted down the stairs creeping out of the Ravenclaw common room, feet tangled in a blanket that was taller than she was-- which was, albeit, not a high bar. Although the thrill of roaming the castle's corridors after dark had long ago lost its thrill since her lengthy stint as Prefect, the terror of tumbling down the Ravenclaw tower staircase had only grown since last time. This night, though, was different, because she wasn't Prefect anymore. No, her reign of responsibility was over. After two years, it was high time to move on, time to make way for those below her to take up the badge. The pain of the end of an era was dulled by her new position as co-captain of the Quidditch team-- a dream come true-- but it still smarted every time she noticed the gleaming badge missing from her reflection. Everything was changing, except for one thing: Cecily couldn't sleep.

The futile endeavor that was trying to get to sleep early was nothing new to Cecily-- she would often regret, in the morning, staying up so late, and make a vow to quit her old habits. But then, old habits die hard, and she still found herself in a vicious cycle of staying up late and waking up even later. It was hard to ignore the allure of her books, but it was even easier to justify her bad habits with the excuse that she probably wouldn't fall asleep on time anyway. Which, of course, may have been reason enough to stay up late and read by wandlight, but didn't condone sneaking out of her dormitory in the middle of the night. Not that that stopped her, obviously, even though having no plausible defense for if she got caught probably should've made her think twice about the whole endeavor.

She drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she focused on not slipping down the steps in her socks. She had forgone shoes for no particularly good reason, although she did make the decision to put on socks the moment her feet touched the cold stone floor. It was, after all, the middle of October, and warmth wasn't exactly in great supply at the top of the Ravenclaw tower in the colder months in general, nevermind at two in the morning when Cecily tossed her book down on the foot of her bed and threw off the covers. As a final touch, she stripped the dark blue bedspread from her bed and took it with her as she tiptoed past her dormmates and shut the door silently behind her.

Why she had decided, past midnight, to enjoy a lovely nighttime stroll around the castle, she wasn't quite sure. It had just been an idea in her head and... who was going to stop her? The rest of the castle was fast asleep. No prefects around, and she doubted any professors would expect children wandering around at this hour. And besides, she could break the rules now. Well, not officially-- but it didn't look as bad now as it might have when she was still a Prefect. She was a free bird now, no longer confined to the walls of her dorm and the shackles of responsibility, but instead free to wander the endless corridors of Hogwarts with no shiny badge pinned to her chest marking her as a hypocrite.

She stopped at a junction, oddly calm but unfortunately cold. She should've worn a second pair of socks. Or, y'know, shoes, like a normal person. She let her mind drift as she watched she torchlight flicker, casting eerie shadows on the wall of her figure, misshapen because of the bedspread and looming large. She wasn't afraid of being caught, although a corner of her mind was absolutely positive someone was about to turn the corner and bust her.

It may have been five seconds or five minutes before her premonition proved itself true-- or, partially. Someone had indeed rounded the corner, and although the presence of a detention in her near future was yet to be established, she was sure that this was it, the moment she got busted. Her heart was racing. Over three years without a detention, and then the minute she turns in her badge... Cecily stumbled backwards and dropped the blanket, holding her hands out in front of her as the dark figure nearly collided with her, biting her tongue to keep the words inside as the silence was deafening. The reflex to apologise instantly was strong, but there was no need for extra noise at this time of night. Some of the professors could probably hear a pin drop from three floors down.

But this was no professor. Cecily could tell by the weak light of the torches that it was but a student, albeit an intimidating one. Her beating heart subsided as her eyes focused on the girl's face. Yes, she knew her from somewhere-- not personally, not really, but she had heard the rumors. Although Cecily was as far from a gossip as one could get, they were difficult to avoid when she was surrounded by teenagers at all hour of the day. And although she had yet to enjoy the pleasure of conversing with one Anastasia Beckett, it seemed as though her luck was about to change.

"Anastasia," she spoke in a low voice, acknowledging the younger girl with a nod. She was doubtful that the Gryffindor knew who she was, although between her status as one of the few fourth-years still around, the sponge-pass event from earlier in the year, and the vague memory that Cecily had of perhaps being on the Prefect team together with her, there was a chance that the Beckett girl at least knew her name.

@Anastasia Beckett