Professor McGonagall's heels clicked softly against the stone floor as she led Cela up staircase after staircase, the sound echoing faintly through the corridors. The torches along the walls flickered as though bowing in recognition of her presence. Cela walked silently behind, clutching the strap of her small enchanted bag, her heart thudding with nervous excitement. She had eaten, she had spoken to new people, and now she was to see her dormitory—the place that would be her home for the rest of the school year.
Finally, they stopped in front of a round portrait depicting a rather plump woman in a pink silk dress. The Fat Lady leaned forward and eyed Cela curiously.
"Password?" she demanded in a sing-song tone.
"Fortuna Major," Professor McGonagall answered crisply.
The portrait swung forward, revealing the round opening into the Gryffindor common room. The fire of the candles crackled brightly in the common room of the Gryffindor, casting golden light across the room. Fat, squashy armchairs were gathered around the fire, and the walls were lined with noticeboards and bookshelves. The banners, rugs, and curtains were deep scarlet trimmed with gold—warm and welcoming, yet so utterly different from the quiet study rooms Cela had grown up in.
Cela's eyes widened with awe. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
Professor McGonagall gave her a rare, small smile. "This will be your common room. Now, come along. I'll show you to your dormitory."
They passed the group of Gryffindor students who were settling in for the night, some already changing into pajamas, others playing a last-minute game of wizard chess by the fire. A few boys called out greetings, curious about the new girl, but McGonagall kept her pace brisk.
The girls' staircase wound upward, spiraling gently. Cela followed, heart racing as she wondered what kind of girls she would be living with. At last, Professor McGonagall pushed open a polished wooden door and gestured her inside.
"Here we are—the third-year girls' dormitory," she announced.
Cela stepped into the room. The dormitory was round, with tall, arched windows draped in crimson curtains. Five four-poster beds, each draped with thick scarlet hangings embroidered with gold, stood evenly spaced around the room. A large rug patterned with lions sprawled across the floor, and at the center stood a table piled with books, parchment, and quills, already clearly shared among the roommates. The room smelled faintly of lavender and old parchment.
Inside were three girls: Hermione, already unpacking near her bed; Parvati Patil, brushing out her glossy dark hair; Lavender Brown, chattering animatedly about something that made her laugh at her own joke; and a space set aside with a neatly folded blanket and bed that must belong to Cela .
Hermione's face lit up when she saw her. "Cela! You're in here too. That's wonderful—we're roommates!"
Parvati and Lavender both looked up, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.
"This is your bed," McGonagall said, gesturing to the four-poster next to Hermione's. "It will be made each morning while you're attending classes. If you wish to change dorms, you'll have to wait until next year."
She paused, then looked around at the other girls in the room. "I expect you all to make Cela feel welcome."
Cela felt a flutter of nerves and excitement as she glanced at her new bed. It was cozy and inviting, and being so close to Hermione made the strange room feel a little less intimidating. She offered a small, grateful smile to the girls around her, hoping they would take McGonagall's words to heart.
"Yes, Professor," the girls chorused.
McGonagall gave Cela a firm nod. "Good. I shall leave you all to it. Lights out soon. Miss Cela—do try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving the girls alone.
Lavender immediately leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "Well, well, a new face in our dorm! Welcome to Gryffindor Tower. I'm Lavender. That's Parvati."
Parvati gave a graceful little wave, her long hair spilling over her shoulder. "Hi. Nice to meet you."
Hermione smiled warmly. "I told you she was joining us. This is Celestia but you can call her Cela."
Cela gave a small, polite bow of her head. "Nice to meet you all. Thank you for letting me share the room."
Lavender giggled. "Oh, you sound so formal. Don't worry—we're all just friends here."
Parvati tilted her head. "So, tell us—why didn't you come to Hogwarts before? Hermione said you've been studying at home?"
Cela sat gracefully on her bed and folded her hands on her lap, speaking calmly. "I lived with my grandfather. He used to be a professor here, long ago. He preferred to teach me himself—potions, charms, and other subjects. But now he feels it is time I join my peers."
Hermione nodded, clearly proud to already know some of the story. "Her grandfather was very strict about her education. Honestly, she probably knows more about potion theory than half the fifth-years."
Lavender's eyes widened. "Oh wow. That sounds so… mysterious. Like one of those wise old masters in a story."
Cela chuckled softly. "He can be rather stern when it comes to teaching me. But he took care of me."
Parvati leaned forward eagerly. "What was it like being taught at home? Did you have any friends where you lived?"
Cela hesitated, then gave a small, thoughtful nod. "Sometimes. I had books for company, and I worked hard… but it was lonely at times. I think… I really like the idea of this"—she gestured around the warm, lively dormitory, at the laughter and chatter—"the chance to be with people my own age, to share a room, to laugh and talk and just… belong somewhere."
There was a moment of thoughtful silence. Then Lavender flopped back on her bed dramatically. "Well, you've got us now. We'll make up for all the years you missed."
That drew a laugh from Parvati and Hermione.
The evening passed quickly as the girls asked her more questions—about her favorite spells, whether she liked Quidditch, if she had a crush on anyone famous (to which Cela only laughed and shook her head). Lavender told a silly story about Seamus Finnigan accidentally setting his sleeve on fire last year, and Parvati recounted how Peeves once poured ink into the Charma classroom.
After a while, yawns spread among them. Lavender was the first to crawl under her covers, mumbling, "Beauty sleep." Parvati soon followed.
Cela quietly unpacked her enchanted bag, pulling out her robes, neatly folded nightdress, and a small collection of books. She placed them carefully in the wardrobe beside her bed, then slipped away to the dormitory's adjoining bathroom. The warm shower was heavenly after the damp chill of the train and stormy evening. She closed her eyes and let the heat wash away her weariness before returning in her nightdress, hair damp and with golden curls.
Hermione was still awake, perched on her bed with Crookshanks curled beside her. She looked up and smiled as Cela sat down.
"You know," Hermione said softly, "it's nice having you here. I think we'll get along very well and I am sure we will experience a lot of adventures together ."
Cela smiled, warmth flooding her chest. "I think so too."
Hermione reached into her trunk, pulled out a small brush, and without hesitation leaned forward. "Here—your hair's still damp. Let me brush it for you."
Cela blinked in surprise. "You… want to?"
"Of course. It'll help it dry nicely."
Slowly, Cela turned and let Hermione begin brushing. The strokes were gentle, careful. Under this gentle movement of Hermione's hands, Cela closed her eyes, and savored the simple kindness.
"When I was little," she whispered, "my grandfather used to brush my hair. This is the first time someone else has."
Hermione's expression softened. "Well, from now on, I'll do it. Every night if you like."
Cela turned slightly, eyes shining. "Then I'll brush yours too."
Hermione let out a rueful sigh. "Mine's hopeless. It's so frizzy and bushy. I usually just… don't bother."
"I'll bother," Cela said firmly, smiling. "Even if it takes time. You deserve it."
There was a pause, then a voice piped up from the other bed. Lavender's head poked out from behind her curtains, smirking. "Wow, you two are already acting like sisters—or something closer. What's your secret? You've only known each other a day!"
Hermione flushed. Cela chuckled softly. "No secret. We're simply… neighbors. And perhaps friends already."
Lavender smirked. "Well, it's good Hermione finally found her best friend. The past two years she's always been glued to Potter and Weasley, so we were starting to wonder if she even liked girls at all."
Hermione shot her a sharp glare. "You all really talk behind my back, don't you? I'll admit most of my time has been spent with Harry and Ron, but that doesn't mean I hate girls."
Parvati giggled sleepily. "Well, it looks like Gryffindor got a new best-friends pair. Good night, you two."
"Good night," Hermione and Cela answered together.
As the dormitory quieted, Cela slid under her covers, turning her head slightly. Hermione was facing her from the next bed, eyes half-lidded but still awake.
They exchanged one last smile across the small gap between their beds. Then Hermione reached down, scooping Crookshanks into her arms. The ginger cat padded across her blankets, curled up at her side, and purred contentedly.
Within moments, both girls drifted off to sleep, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the sound of rain outside their window.