The sunlight was already climbing higher in the sky when Cela awoke, the soft golden rays filtering through the tall windows of the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. She yawned, stretching her arms and shoulders, only to glance at the clock beside her bed. Her heart sank slightly.
"Eleven o'clock?" she murmured to herself, sitting up abruptly. "I… I've overslept."
Her bed was still warm, the blankets rumpled around her. Lavender and Parvati were nowhere to be seen, fast asleep in some other part of the tower, or perhaps already moving around the castle. Hermione, too, was absent, though Cela remembered that the girl often had morning classes. This explained the quiet and empty dormitory, as the faint echo of her own voice bouncing off the walls.
She rose carefully, slipping her feet into her slippers. "I'll just… take a long bath," she murmured with a faint smile. Hogwarts mornings always carried a trace of magic, even in their hurried rhythm, and the promise of hot water felt like a small blessing after her restless night.
Filling the basin with steaming water, she added a few drops of lavender-scented potion she had tucked away for herself. The fragrance unfurled through the air as she sank into the warmth with a soft sigh, her body easing at last. She let the potion-laced water glide over her skin, rubbing in the shimmering mixtures she'd prepared for its health and softness.
Around her, the castle stirred awake: the muffled echo of footsteps along the corridors, the gentle rush of birds wings overhead, the occasional groan of the ancient timbers. Together, they wove a quiet symphony—one she had come to love.
After a long, cozy bath, Cela dressed in her Gryffindor robes and brushed her hair until it fell neatly around her shoulders. Crookshank, Hermione's ever-watchful feline companion, padded around her feet, as if aware that today's adventure might hold something interesting. Cela smiled down at him. "Don't get any ideas, little one. Today we're keeping it simple—no secret potion experiments," she whispered. The cat mewed softly, as though in agreement.
She descended the Gryffindor Tower, winding her way carefully down the spiral staircase. Though she had already walked these stairs in the morning rush, the castle still felt vast, unfamiliar, and alive with secrets at every turn. She knew she had to find the Great Hall for lunch—but as a newcomer, it was not always easy to navigate.
Following a few older students who were also heading in the same direction, Cela eventually approached the massive doors of the Great Hall. She could hear the faint chatter of students already gathered inside, and the clatter of silverware against plates. Pushing the doors open, she stepped inside and immediately spotted a familiar scene.
Hermione was standing near the Gryffindor table, her brow furrowed in concern, speaking with Harry and Ron. Malfoy, his hand still heavily bandaged from the previous day's Hippogriff incident, was nearby, deliberately speaking in a loud, mocking voice. Cela's eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the scene. It was clear that Malfoy had provoked Harry again, and Harry's anger was barely contained, his jaw tight and fists clenched.
When Malfoy noticed Cela approaching, his eyes flicked toward his lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, and he muttered sharply, "Let's go. Now." Then he turned his attention back to Harry, sneering, "Remember this, Potter. My father will see to it that your precious half-giant friend loses his position. And you—don't think this is over."
Harry's eyes flared. "Go on, Malfoy. I dare you. Do you think Dumbledore would just sit by and let you?" His voice was thick with anger, but Hermione quickly stepped between them, placing a firm hand on his arm. "Harry, calm down. Don't worry about Hagrid," she urged, her eyes flicking toward Professor McGonagall, who was observing the scene quietly from her chair at the staff table.
Malfoy gave one last mocking glare before turning and retreating toward the Slytherin table, his lackeys flanking him. He tossed a parting remark over his shoulder, loud enough for Harry to hear, "You'll see, Potter. You'll see."
Cela shook her head slightly, walking over to Hermione. "What's going on now? Everyone's so worked up again in this morning."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, adjusting her robes slightly. "It's not morning anymore, sleepyhead. It's nearly noon."
Cela stuck her tongue out playfully. "Oops. I just slept very late last night."
Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she asked, "Very late… and why exactly didn't you sleep early?"
Cela's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Well… that's between me and Crookshank."
Hermione rolled her eyes but allowed herself a small smile. "Alright. Anyway, let's sit. Your breakfast is now lunch, I suppose."
They made their way to the table, where Cela's plate was quickly filled with a mix of eggs, toast, fruits, and pumpkin juice. Hermione set hers down as well, and for a brief moment, Cela enjoyed the quiet hum of Hogwarts life, the murmur of students, and the occasional clatter of dishes echoing through the high, arched ceilings.
Cela's curiosity got the better of her. "So… what was that about Harry and Malfoy again? Was it another fight?"
Hermione sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Apparently, Malfoy's father wrote to the Ministry of Magic, trying to have Hagrid dismissed. The Ministry sent a letter to Hagrid as he is required to appear next month at the Department for Magical Creatures. They want to review the incident that happened with the Hippogriff. And you know Lucius Malfoy… he'll use every trick he can to harm Hagrid or undermine Dumbledore."
Cela frowned thoughtfully. "They have so much money… the Ministry could be swayed easily. Of course, anything will likely be in Lucius Malfoy's favor."
Hermione let out a heavy sigh. "I have to go to the library. Research past incidents with magical creatures. I need to compile a proper report for Hagrid so he can use it to defend himself at the court. It's the only way to help him."
Cela's lips curved into a small, encouraging smile. "Good luck with that. If you need help, I can come too."
Hermione's eyes glimmered with gratitude, though she rolled her eyes playfully. "Good luck isn't quite what I meant… it would have been nicer if you said, 'I'll help you too.'"
Cela giggled softly. "Fine, fine. I'll help you."
They settled into eating their meal, the quiet rhythm of forks against plates and the gentle murmur of nearby students providing a comforting backdrop. Cela's curiosity returned to the morning's events.
"So… today, what classes do we have?" she asked.
Hermione's lips pressed together thoughtfully. "Today we have Divination class in the afternoon—Prophecies class. And after lunch, we head to the top floor for it. Ravenclaw is scheduled for the same class, so we'll see them there."
Lunch passed pleasantly, though Cela couldn't help sneaking glances at Harry, who was speaking quietly with Ron about the Malfoy incident. Malfoy's interference continued to loom over their conversations, and Hermione's protective energy seemed constantly present, ready to intervene should Harry's temper flare again.
By the time the clock read 1:30 PM, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Cela gathered their things and began ascending toward the top floors for Prophecies and Divination class. The air was warm and calm, though the corridors were quiet, almost eerily so compared to the bustle of lunch.
Ron's voice broke the silence, brimming with excitement. "I'm really looking forward to this! I want to see what the future holds for me. Do you think I'll be captain of the Quidditch team next year?"
Hermione glanced at him, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Well, today the class is with Ravenclaw, so we'll have to see how the sorting of the crystal balls goes. But yes, you'll get your chance to learn, and perhaps there will be some insight into your Quidditch ambitions."
Cela walked quietly, observing the stone arches and tapestries that lined the higher corridors, marveling again at the castle's labyrinthine design.
Harry, walking beside Hermione, muttered under his breath, "I just hope this class isn't as frustrating as the seniors said. You never know if it's accurate or just deception."
Hermione fixed Harry with a pointed look. "Divination isn't only about seeing the future—it's about interpretation. If you pay closer attention, you might actually learn something useful. And Harry," her voice softened only slightly, "try not to get so emotional once class starts. Lately you haven't been doing very well at keeping that in check."
Cela smirked to herself, quietly noting the constant tension Malfoy caused and the effects that it brought to Harry, and the unshakable loyalty of Hermione toward him . It was almost like a dance—Harry's temper, Hermione's caution, Malfoy's provocations—all interwoven into the daily life of Hogwarts.
The quartet reached the top floors, and the heavy doors of the Divination classroom loomed ahead. The smell of incense drifted from within, the faint scent of herbs and magical oils mingling with the dust of centuries-old wooden floors. Students were already gathering around crystal balls, charts, and various divining instruments, preparing for the class to begin.
Cela paused at the threshold, taking a deep breath, ready to learn, to observe, and to immerse herself further into the magical intricacies of Hogwarts life. She glanced at Hermione, who gave a subtle nod of encouragement, before stepping into the classroom.
As the door closed behind them, the faint murmurs of students faded, replaced by the quiet anticipation that always accompanied the promise of magic, discovery, and prophecy.