Cela swallowed, then gathered her courage and spoke.
"Hello… was that you who just spoke?"
She waited, her gaze fixed on the painting. For a moment, nothing stirred. Then the eagle's eyes shifted, flickering to life, as though waking from a long sleep. Its head moved slowly, surveying the room before settling on her again.
"Of course it was came out of my mouth," the voice replied, smooth and amused. "Well, if you can call it a mouth. I noticed you staring so intently that I could not resist."
Cela's hand tightened around her wand. "You spoke," she said quietly, then raised her chin. "What are you? And what are you doing here? I have never seen you before. Besides, I have never read about any enchanted painting of an eagle in Hogwarts or anywhere else."
The eagle gave a sound that might have been a chuckle. "You are not even a Ravenclaw student, yet you bombard me with questions. Very well, let us begin with the obvious. I am a painting. That much you can see."
Cela narrowed her eyes but gave a small nod.
"As for what I am," the eagle continued, "that is not so simple. You will have to make a magical vow not to tell anyone about me. Do that, and perhaps I will explain."
Cela folded her arms. "Why? Is there a reason you do not want anyone else to know you exist?"
The eagle shifted in its nest, ruffling its painted feathers. "If you take a vow, then I will tell you."
Cela's lips pressed into a thin line. "No. I will not. I do not trust you. You appear suddenly in the middle of my work and then demand a vow? Absolutely not." She turned away, facing her cauldron with deliberate finality.
For a moment there was only silence. Then the eagle gave a long, exasperated sigh. "All right, all right. No vow, then. But at least promise me one thing: do not speak of me to anyone. My existence must remain hidden."
Cela glanced back over her shoulder, studying the golden eyes once more. They seemed earnest, if still unsettling. Slowly, she nodded. "Fine. I promise I will not tell anyone. You have nothing to fear from me. And do not worry—I would rather not have anyone else wandering into this room either."
The eagle dipped its head in satisfaction. "Good. Then we may speak."
The eagle tilted its head, feathers glinting in the painted light of the mountains.
"I belonged to Ravenclaw," it said at last, voice low and resonant. "This room was her workplace. The painting you see was painted by Rowena herself."
Cela's mouth fell open slightly. "Rowena Ravenclaw painted you?"
"That is correct," the eagle replied, sounding almost proud.
Cela frowned. "But then why have I never seen you before? I have been here twice already and there was no painting of an eagle."
The bird lazily stretched its wings and murmured, "I was bored here all alone in these past years. I noticed you working here, so I kept quiet to not disturb you or disturb your work and just observe you. You seemed to noticed me, and since I had nothing better to do, I thought, why not chat with you? It looks like you'll be visiting this room a lot from now on, you will be enjoying my company here."
Cela crossed her arms. "Well if you're bored then why not let me tell Professor Dumbledore about you? He could take you out into the castle, hang you in a corridor where everyone can see you. You would not be stuck here."
The eagle squawked indignantly. "No! I would rather remain here in the workplace of Ravenclaw herself. This place is where I belong. Besides, I can leave my frame whenever I wish to observe the castle and the students."
Cela narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "So what, you just go wandering about the castle watching people? That sounds rather creepy. You are not some kind of stalker eagle, are you?"
The bird bristled, feathers flaring as it shouted, "No! Do not make me out to be one of those dreadful portraits who lurk and eavesdrop. I am not one of them, you idiot!"
Cela burst out laughing, throwing up her hands. "All right, all right. I was only joking."
The eagle huffed, but its feathers settled back against its sides.
"So this place," Cela said after a pause, "is truly one of the founders' workplaces?"
"Well," the eagle admitted, "technically it is considered so. Rowena built this room herself. Whenever she wanted to work without disturbance, she would come here to experiment. It is a magical space, and through the centuries many students have found their way to it, each for their own reasons."
Cela leaned forward eagerly. "If she worked here, then are there any books about potions? Anything useful for me?"
The eagle's eyes gleamed. "Yes. Speak these three words aloud, and you shall find what you seek."
It whispered something in a tongue Cela did not recognise. She repeated the strange syllables carefully, and at once the wall to her left shimmered. Out of the stone slid a small bookshelf, as though it had been hidden there all along.
Her breath caught. She rushed over and found the shelves packed with ancient tomes, their spines cracked with age. She pulled one free and flipped it open. Lines of faded ink sprawled across the page in a mixture of old English and ancient runes.
Cela groaned. "These are written in half-runes, half-ancient English. I can hardly read them. This will take ages."
The eagle gave a slow nod. "If you want true success, you will have to learn. Knowledge has a price. If you like, I could teach you."
Cela turned, eyes wide. "You would? Just like that? What do you want in return? Nothing is free."
The eagle gave a soft laugh. "I want nothing. Only that you bring me company from time to time."
Cela tilted her head. "How long have you been here, then? A thousand years?"
"Yes," the bird said simply. "Since the school was founded."
Cela's eyebrows shot up. "So you must know all the history of Hogwarts. Every student, every secret, everything."
The eagle's golden eyes glittered as it replied, "Yes, I know much of it. Almost everything."
"That is brilliant," Cela said. "So I can ask you anything I want?"
"Not quite," the eagle interrupted firmly. "I can tell you stories, yes, but not everything. Some things are private. Some are not for the ears of a child like you."
Cela wrinkled her nose but said nothing. The eagle shifted in its nest and added, "And speaking of children, it is late. The corridors will soon be empty. You should return to your Gryffindor common room."
Cela blinked, realising how long she had lingered. "You are right. It has been hours." She hurriedly gathered her notes and books. At the door, she looked back at the eagle.
"I will come back tomorrow, Mr. Eagle."
As she slipped out of the room, the painting's voice followed her, chuckling. "Mr. Eagle. Yes, that is a good name."
The laugh echoed once more, then the Room of Requirement fell silent.