The next morning, Hermione arrived at Cela's house, and the two stood before the fireplace, ready to use the Floo Network to travel to the Leaky Cauldron. As they prepared, Cela glanced at Hermione with a playful glint in her eye. "Have you used the Floo Network before?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, but I've seen how it's done."
Cela's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "Well, just so you know, the first time's a bit intense. The green flames will burn your whole body, and it hurts—a lot. Don't be scared, though. The pain goes away once you step out of the fireplace."
Hermione's face paled. "Really? It actually hurts?"
Cela put on a mock-sad expression. "Unfortunately, yes, it does."
At that moment, a gruff voice called from the living room, where Cela's grandfather, Horace Slughorn, was watching TV. "Why are you scaring her, you naughty girl? Go on, Miss Granger, she's just teasing. You won't feel a thing."
Hermione's eyes snapped to Cela, who burst out laughing. Glaring, Hermione playfully punched Cela in her breasts. Cela yelped, "Ouch! Don't hit me there, it's painful!"
"You deserve it!" Hermione retorted, still glaring. "You know how scared I was!"
Cela, rubbing her chest, grinned. "You looked adorable when you were scared."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Stop the nonsense. Let's go."
"Alright, alright," Cela said, still chuckling. "Just watch me and do what I do. I haven't been to the Leaky Cauldron in years, so you'll need to teleport soon, okay?" Hermione nodded.
Cela stepped into the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, and called out clearly, "Leaky Cauldron, London!" Green flames engulfed her, and she vanished.
Hermione hesitated, her body trembling slightly as she clutched her own pinch of Floo powder. Despite Horace's reassurance, a flicker of doubt lingered—what if it did hurt? She stepped into the fireplace, heart racing.
"Go on, child, don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt at all—she was just joking," Horace said kindly, his eyes warm as he watched her from the living room.
Hermione flushed with embarrassment, caught in her moment of fear. Determined to prove herself, she tossed the Floo powder and shouted, "Leaky Cauldron, London!" She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for pain. A brief warmth washed over her, but no pain came—only the sensation of being pulled through space.
Back in the house, Horace shook his head with a fond smile. "That naughty girl nearly traumatized her first friend."
*********************
The green flames died down, and Cela stumbled forward, brushing soot from her sleeves as she emerged from the Floo Network into the dimly lit inn. The Leaky Cauldron smelled faintly of woodsmoke, butterbeer, and something stewing in the back kitchen. It was quiet for the moment, though the clinking of glasses and muffled chatter could be heard from further inside.
Hermione Granger stepped out of the fireplace right behind her, coughing slightly but otherwise composed. She quickly straightened her robes and glanced at Cela with an encouraging smile.
"Well," Hermione said, brushing her bushy hair back. "Here we are. The Leaky Cauldron."
Cela's wide eyes scanned the room with curiosity. The place was worn but charming, with dark wooden beams overhead and lanterns swaying gently in the draft from the open door. To her, it felt like stepping into another world.
At the counter, a thin, bald man with a wide smile looked up. His face was a maze of wrinkles, but his eyes were kind.
"Miss Granger!" Tom, the innkeeper, greeted warmly, hobbling out from behind the bar. "And who's this then? A new face?"
Hermione gave Cela a little push forward. "This is Celestia Slughorn. She's—well, she's starting at Hogwarts this year."
Tom's eyebrows lifted. "Slughorn? Don't tell me you're related to Horace Slughorn?"
"Yes, sir," Cela said politely, folding her hands together. "He's my grandfather."
"Bless me, it has been years since I've seen old Horace," Tom chuckled. "How is the Horace doing? Still busy gathering his little collection?"
Cela hesitated for only a moment before answering with kindness, her lips curving into a small smile. "He's busy as always, but well. He prefers to stay out of sight these days."
Tom's grin widened. "Ha! That sounds just like him. Do tell him Tom at the Leaky Cauldron still remembers the nights he nearly drank us out of Firewhisky."
Cela laughed softly, but her mind flickered briefly to her grandfather's strict manners. It was strange to imagine him in such a setting.
Before she could say more, the sound of lively voices filled the room. A group was entering from the far stairwell. Cela turned her head and saw a family filing down in a cluster of red hair and cheerful chatter.
"The Weasleys," Hermione whispered to her. "Come on."
Cela followed as Hermione led her toward them.
Molly Weasley, plump and warm-looking with her red hair pinned back, was speaking sternly to the twins who were trying to hide their grins. Arthur Weasley trailed behind, his eyes wandering curiously across the bar, already distracted by the magical odds and ends decorating the room.
"Hermione!" Molly exclaimed, spotting them. Her stern expression melted into delight. "Oh, it's lovely to see you, dear."
Hermione smiled warmly. "It's good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley. I hope you're both doing well."
Molly's eyes shifted to the girl beside Hermione, her face lighting up with curiosity. "And who's this lovely young lady, dear Hermione?"
Hermione smiled brightly. "Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley—this is my neighbor, Celestia Slughorn. She's going to Hogwarts this year."
Molly's eyes softened instantly as she took Cela in. She stepped forward and clasped the girl's hands warmly.
"Slughorn? Oh, goodness. Your grandfather was one of my professors back in my day," Molly said fondly. "I remember him well—always had a kind word and a knack for making you feel clever, even if you weren't. I got through Potions thanks to him."
Arthur nodded eagerly, adjusting his worn clothes. "Brilliant man, Horace. Knows everyone worth knowing. Well, you'll be in good hands, my dear."
Cela blushed slightly under the attention but answered politely, her voice quiet but clear. "Thank you. Grandfather has mentioned his students before, though not by name. I'll be sure to tell him I met you."
"Oh, do, do," Molly insisted warmly. "And don't let him spoil you too much, hmm? Horace always had a soft spot for his favorites."
Hermione hid a smile, but Cela only nodded.
Mr. Weasley leaned in and whispered something to Mrs. Weasley, whose eyes widened in surprise. She turned to Cela, her voice warm but tinged with excitement. "Are you Hind's daughter, my dear?"
Cela, caught off guard by the mention of her mother's name, gave a sad smile. "Yes, she's my mother, actually."
Molly's face softened, and she immediately pulled Cela into a tight hug. "Oh, Merlin, you're her daughter! Your mother was such a brave witch, dear. No wonder you looked so familiar—you're the spitting image of her, so beautiful. A few times when my brothers came to visit, she'd bring their friends along, and that's how we got to know your mother. Such a kind girl, she was. Only nineteen, fighting on the front lines…"
Arthur gently nudged her, his voice low. "Dear, it's not good to dwell on that."
Molly paused, her expression turning apologetic as she looked at Cela. "I'm so sorry, my dear, if I've made you uncomfortable bringing up the past. But if you ever want to hear about your mother, you can always ask me. She was a truly kind soul."
Cela nodded, her eyes soft. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley."
Molly chuckled, waving a hand. "Oh, dear, just call me Aunt. Your mother used to call me that, even though I was only twelve years older than her!" She laughed heartily.
Cela smiled warmly. "Alright, I'll call you Aunt."
"Come along, then," Molly said, ushering them forward. "The boys are all here—you should meet them."
Cela's heart quickened as they crossed the inn. At the bottom of the stairs, a tall boy with messy black hair and round glasses was just coming down, followed by a lanky red-haired boy who looked distinctly uncomfortable, and two identical boys who carried themselves with mischief practically written into their freckles.
"Harry!" Hermione called out, waving.
Harry's face lit up when he saw her. "Hermione!" He hurried the last few steps down.
Ron followed, dragging his feet, holding a shabby-looking rat cage with a miserable creature inside.
Hermione beamed. "Harry, Ron—this is my neighbor, Celestia Slughorn. She's starting Hogwarts this year."
Cela gave a nervous but polite nod. "It's nice to meet you."
Harry returned the smile with friendly warmth. "Nice to meet you too. Welcome to the Hogwarts."
Ron gave a little wave, then immediately held up his cage with a groan. "Ignore me—I'm worried about Scabbers. He's been sick all week, and now he barely moves. Mum thinks he's just old, but I think he's cursed or something."
The twins leaned in with perfect timing, grins wide.
"Or he's finally decided to die of boredom," Fred said.
"Can't blame him, stuck with you," George added.
Cela stifled a laugh, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she glanced at the rat. It would make a perfect test subject for her potion experiments, she thought, tempted to buy it from him. Still, she kept her thoughts to herself, saying nothing aloud.
Molly's voice cut across the moment, brisk but kind. "Now, now, leave Ron be. Come along, everyone, we've still got errands in Diagon Alley."
Cela found herself swept up among them, caught between Molly's motherly presence and Hermione's reassuring hand at her arm.