Quarter to eight in the morning


“Please spare his knees,” Cepheus opened with, keeping his voice low. His hand was outstretched towards his sister, palm down, fingers splayed in a placating motion, hoping she would keep her own voice down. The atrium’s Daily Prophet seller was crying out the morning’s headline fifteen feet behind him, their market seller vocals echoing off the green tiles above the steady rhythm of commuting feet and the rush of floo fires. Telling her here was a gamble about causing a scene, but he knew how his sister preferred not to draw attention to them at pain of nearly death, so such a public, busy place was probably his best option - and as ever - his second choice.

“But we ended it at the weekend," he explained to Andromeda. "It’s honestly for the best. It was lovely, but I’m not what he needs…” Cepheus gestured to himself, shoulders shrugging. He could reason anything was for the best given half an hour, including this time with Virgil Carstairs.

“He’s not ready for settling down, he’s …” Ceph glanced to one side, the words uncomfortable in his mouth again. “… Too young.” He eyed his sister worriedly, measuring her temperature visually. “It’s not his fault.”

Her brother did not need to say anything. Andromeda knew what he was going to say. She could read it all over his face. In his shoulders. In the shadows under his eyes. He and the blonde boy were over. Andromeda's mouth formed a hard straight line. She folded her arms. Frowned.

"Yours then?" Asked Andromeda. Skeptical. "Do not take the blame for him." Her knuckles tightened. Mind considering what to do with the drippy unspeakable. Yavin Morgenthau's pet project. "He was not worth your attention or love Cepheus." Ever the blunt truth. Nobody was good enough for her brother. Cepheus was too kind. If she did not see echoes of their father in his face she might have claimed he was adopted. Of course he had taken pity on Virgil.

“Do not take the blame for him.” Gosh that line could have been transplanted out of their shared childhood in Godric’s Hollow. That he’d taken the heat for Orion, their older brother, just to keep the peace between them all. How was it his sister could be so stoic and sharp and he was so… caring? No, Andie cared, but in a much more pragmatic way.

“I’m not,” he defended meekly, because in a way he was.

“He was not worth your attention or love Cepheus.”

Gods had it even been love? Ceph held those cards closer to his heart than anything. Love had multiple layers, more beautifully fragrant than the simile of an onion. Had he even stopped to consider what it really was between him and Virgil? Not really, not properly, he’d run from that. He was whatever Virgil had wanted him to be. That was why it had almost been a relief to part. That he was released.

“Thanks,” he spoke at last, realising he’d frozen in thought at the statement from his younger sister. “You don’t need to say that, And, but… thanks.” Before she could complain, he threw his arms around her.

Hugging in the atrium. This was going to mess with her reputation as bad ass auror. Curse her brother! Curse Virgil Car-fucking-stairs! His kneecaps be damned. Auror Gamp thumped her brother on the back between the shoulder blades with her wand arm.

"Merlin do not cry on me." Ordered Andromeda from within the clasp. Sensing the possibility. "At least wait until we have alcohol and privacy." She had got horribly drunk and cried her heart out to him after their parents. She did owe him an ugly cry. Not that Virgil was worth an ugly cry over. "We got to find you a proper man." Said Andie. "Or you are going to have to straighten up Ceph."

“We got to find you a proper man, or you are going to have to straighten up, Ceph.”

Cepheus laughed out loud, and released his sister. His eyes stung a little at the corners, and her order not to cry had made him blink them back forcefully. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed the hug, a platonic, family hug with no agenda. Gosh, how many people out there just needed a hug? He was going to cry. Fuck. He caught his sister’s eye and wiped his face as inconspicuously as he could.

“Thanks.” He croaked again. “When you off today?” He asked hopefully.

"If it's before eleven I'll doorstep you." She had folded her arms again. Frowning at him. "And make up the spare room." No point going home. He could at least cook her breakfast. Was one thing he did better than her. She unfolded her arms and shoved Ceph with her shoulder. "I will spare his knees but curse his ankles. Later brother!" Ended Andromeda. "I got crims to catch!"

“Not his ankles!” Cepheus pleaded, though he was pretty sure Andromeda would leave Virgil’s ankles alone too. She wasn’t gripping her wand and walking away with intent. In fact, he couldn’t be certain, but it looked like she maybe had a skip in her step. The Being Division Head rubbed his eyes and shook his head, dismissing the thought. “Laters,” he muttered to himself, and inhaled. Time to face the week.

End