𝘾𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖 𝙒𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮.
Sorted into Slytherin, she's constantly torn between the expectations of her bloodline and the darker allure of a house that whispers of ambition and power...
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Being a Weasley had always been a unique experience, but after the Chamber of Secrets incident, life took on an even more complicated hue for Cecelia. It was as though a veil of shadow had descended upon the family, casting everything in a sombre light.
Molly and Arthur wouldn't speak about it to Cecelia out loud – they were too kind for that. However, the unspoken question lingered in their eyes, their gaze heavy with unvoiced concern: How could you not keep Ginny safe?
While Cecelia was just eleven years old herself, she couldn't escape the feeling of responsibility that came with being Ginny's twin. Not Ron's, not Percy's, not Fred and George's. Hers.
Despite the fact that she was technically the younger of the two, an unwritten pact existed between them. It was an understanding that sweet and kind Ginny required a guardian, someone who could shield her from harm. Sisters, she had been taught, stuck together — a mantra her mother often recited, even though she had grown up in a household filled with brothers and was perhaps unacquainted with the complexities of sisterly bonds.
The Slytherin house had set Cecelia apart even more. She couldn't shake the nagging guilt of not having noticed that something had been terribly amiss with Ginny, the unspoken turmoil beneath the surface. Her role as Ginny's protector had seemingly faltered, and it gnawed at her conscience like an unyielding specter. She had failed the task that'd been assigned to her from the minute she was born.
Her connection to her family felt all the more strained, like a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. The sense of isolation was profound, a chasm she couldn't bridge, and it echoed in the hollow spaces of her heart.
The trip to Egypt had been a tentative step towards rebuilding the family bonds that had been strained by the traumatic events of the past year. It all began when Arthur Weasley struck gold, or rather seven hundred galleons, in the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. It was a stroke of luck that seemed heaven-sent, an opportunity to escape the lingering shadows of the Chamber of Secrets and the subsequent doubts that had plagued them.
Even Charlie had been lured back home for the occasion. Cecelia found solace in his presence, a comforting reassurance that she wasn't alone in her struggle to reconnect with her family. It was as if Charlie could sense her loneliness, his keen instincts honed from years of working with dragons allowing him to read her unspoken troubles. He didn't leave her side for a minute, a protective guardian and an enthusiastic storyteller.
He regaled her with tales of the magnificent creatures he had encountered, the harrowing adventures he had embarked upon, and the breathtaking landscapes he had witnessed. Charlie's stories wove a tapestry of wonder and excitement, and Cecelia was transported to far-off lands through the vivid imagery of his words.
"Been taking lots of pictures with your camera, Cece?" Charlie asked one night, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity, reflecting the warm glow of a campfire under the starlit Egyptian sky.
