It was easy to forget that students at Hogwarts were not like those on the continent. Cerelia allowed her mind to fold backwards, to a time when she would have delighted in prancing through the forests in Scandinavia that enclosed the prestigious Durmstrang. She missed it, in that moment. She missed the freedom equality allowed. This place, Hogwarts, was run by cliques and favouritism between Professors and students. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work and Cerelia hate the difficulty of it. Perhaps, she allowed for a moment, it was her father’s ever increasing irritation that had sent her spiralling into a foul mood. Whatever it was, though, she wished she didn’t have to endure it with the company of a girl who clearly didn’t enjoy the mystery of the magical world like Cerelia did. Not that much of it was a mystery to her anymore. Anything that was had been read up on. Now there were only the true mysteries left to explore - like the Chamber of Secrets, providing she found it, and the Forbidden Forest. Though, those were only two examples. There were so many more.
Baiting the girl was unnecessary. In a true Hufflepuff fashion, within a few moments the redhead had already linked herself to Cerelia and now couldn’t bring herself to walk away from the girl who, as far as Faith was concerned, was walking into her grave. Cerelia did not agree, however, and was becoming bizarrely irritated with the girl’s flushed bursts of emotions that were almost as sporadic as her bits of dialogue. She clearly hadn’t caught on just yet that Cerelia preferred silence.
The blonde moved ahead, her long gait propelling her forward at a rate that would hopefully see her lose the redhead behind her. The girl was determined to speak, though. Cerelia bit her tongue again as she came to a stop and flicked her wand again, sending the beam of light into the air. The orb floated up, just above her head and to the left, bathing the forest in a white light. Cerelia turned, raising an eyebrow at the redhead. She was naive. Stupid, even.
“Well, I don’t know,” Cerelia responded mockingly. “Aren’t you afraid a Werewolf is going to get you?” Cerelia couldn’t stop herself from laughing at this point and she shook her head in disbelief, her lips curling into an indulgent, patronizing smile. “I suggest you go then, because I’m no Gryffindor. This is no show of bravery; I do not possess a hero complex or a desire to impress you.” Cerelia’s lip curled a little at the thought. “No, far from it in fact. If you believe yourself to be safer with an empty headed Gryffindor then I think Madam Malkin’s mucked up your tie order. That is naivety. You can go back. You are just going to get yourself killed. Though that would be fun for everyone, a little bit of murder and mayhem, it won’t be for me. I don’t fancy being implicated in a murder just yet, thank you very much. Think about it this way though,” Cerelia smirked, turning around once more and beginning to walk. “There aren’t any Werewolves about this time of day.”