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If Septimus, in his head, had any sort of grandiose delusions about himself, they would be of him being some class of hero, or otherwise a very grand and otherwise upstanding citizen. As soon as he had apparated into the Black family's Victorian Garden, he knew that Cedrella would be in her room. She always left a crack of it open, for times when Septimus would do exactly as he was doing at the very moment, which was sneaking in. Hoping not to be seen by Mrs. Black (who he was actually quite terrified of but would never admit it), Septimus took to the walls outside of the house.

And, spying the vines crawling along the stone and grout, how they grew and connected and intertwined along the picket up the side of the house, Septimus had his plan to get up to her window. Usually he had his broom, but this was a different situation entirely. Not only was Cedrella sick, but she also hated flying. So it had to be done in the intrepid and explorer-like way. Septimus fit one of his trainers through the picket and, grasping onto a vine and another diamond shaped hole, hoisted himself up. With a sense of triumph as he climbed (and ignoring how painful it was, having to pull his entire body weight up with little holes in the picket that could barely fit his enormous gigantic huge feet, and risk not falling and possibly breaking something), Septimus felt like a regular explorer.