Re: Septimus and Quintella
Her answering smile was sad. Beautiful and terribly said in that beauty, for the way her face looked tilted up to his, even with her in tall heels. "No, they were right," she said gently, shaking her head. "No matter how much theory I know, Timmy, I'll never be able to do the practicals. I'll always be dependent on others for that. I'd be useless in most of the classes." It didn't matter that she probably knew more about spell crafting and magical theory than most students; the only way she could apply it was if she got someone else to do it for her. It didn't matter that she knew all about dragons and had even handled them, because Septimus had faith she could -- because she'd never be able to cast a spell on them to contain them. Even if most of them rather liked her, most days, though why she'd never figured out. "This is a magic school, and I'm not magic. Doesn't keep me from wishing, though." Or her eyes from briefly swimming with tears before she took a deep breath and banished them, gathering her hard won composure around her like another gown.
She laughed quietly and squeezed his arm. "Oh, I don't know, Timmy. Maybe that pretty girl or that handsome bloke," she said, making suggestions with a very discreet flick of her finger. "You can ask them, you know. You should get to know more people than just your strange reclusive big sister."