Cedrella, who was seated in the Black family's garden with a warm wooly sweater wrapped comfortably around her arms to guard off the chill, relocated herself to her current location shortly after sending off her owl and now waited not-so-patiently for Septimus's arrival. Though she had insisted that she was well, that she had no need for a Healer, it wasn't very much longer before Cedrella realized she was very much in the wrong. She had spent much of the previous evening being sick and when this sickness--whatever it was--hadn't passed by the morning, Ced knew she had to stop being a proud baby and do something.
Yes, Pride stopped her from saying anything, but guilt and self-preservation inspired her to ask for his help. She knew he would worry if he didn't know where she was, or what was going on, and she wanted him there with her more than she wanted anybody else beside her. Thus, as Cedrella sat on the bench in the cool English garden, waiting for the dewdrops of the morning frost to pass, and waiting more importantly for Septimus to arrive.
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