Later that night, the Gryffindor common room glowed warmly with crackling firelight. Students lounged in armchairs, chattered on sofas, or hunched over homework at small tables. The room was filled with comfort—the scent of old wood, the warmth of flames, the soft murmur of laughter.
But Harry could not settle. He paced in front of the fireplace, fists clenched, his every step echoing his frustration.
"I have to punish him," Harry muttered furiously. "One time or another—he deserves it. He deserves to be knocked flat."
Hermione sat primly in an armchair, her patience stretched thin. She tried for the third time to calm him. "Harry, listen to me. You cannot fight Malfoy. Not now, not later. That's exactly what he wants—to make you slip, to give him an excuse to brag even more. Please, sit down."
Harry ignored her, pacing faster.
Cela sat quietly in the corner, her hands folded on her lap, her eyes fixed on Harry in sharp observation. She said nothing, but her mind ticked, weighing his temper, Hermione's reason, the dynamic between them.
A soft sigh beside her drew her attention. Ginny Weasley had settled near Cela, watching her brother's best friend with troubled eyes. She leaned close, voice low so only Cela could hear.
"You'll have to get used to this, Cela," Ginny murmured.
Cela tilted her head, regarding the younger girl curiously. "What do you mean?"
Ginny's sigh deepened. She looked toward Harry, who was pacing with fire in his eyes, and her lips pressed into a faint frown. "For two years now, Malfoy has been obsessed with Harry. Always mocking him, always bullying him, always trying to get under his skin. It never stops."
Cela's smirk curved slow and mischievous. "Oh? And you believe it's only bullying?"
Ginny blinked, startled. "What else would it be?"
Cela leaned in, her voice a silken whisper edged with amusement. "Perhaps… Malfoy's obsession is not hatred. Perhaps it's romantic."
Ginny flinched so hard she nearly dropped the book she was holding. Her brows furrowed, her cheeks flushing with both outrage and embarrassment. "That's impossible. Harry hates him. Absolutely hates him. He would never—never—"
Cela's smirk widened. "Who knows? Sometimes people seek attention in strange ways. What if Malfoy mocks him just to be noticed? What if jealousy and attraction are tangled in his mind? And the old rivalry between your family and his makes it even spicier, since Harry and Ron are very close friends and this exactly makes him jealous."
Ginny shuddered in disgust, shaking her head violently. "No. That's ridiculous. Malfoy having romantic feelings towards Harry? Never. I won't let that happen."
Cela's eyes gleamed as she studied Ginny's reaction, the sharp flare of possessiveness, the tightness in her jaw. She leaned closer, whispering slyly. "Ah. So you must protect Harry then. Be on guard always. If Malfoy's attention is truly dangerous—or… something else—you must be the shield."
Ginny nodded quickly, determination flaring in her green eyes. "Yes. I'll protect him. Always." Her gaze flicked back to Harry, softening into a dreamy blush. "Always."
Cela smirked knowingly, watching as Ginny stood and crossed to Harry, her voice turning gentle as she spoke to him, urging him to calm down. The shift was immediate—Ginny's posture melted, her bravado fading into shyness, cheeks pink as she murmured. Cela tilted her head,amused at the transformation.
"It seems," she murmured to herself, "that it's a one-sided crush."
"Find out only now, did you?"
Cela turned to see Lavender Brown sliding into the seat beside her, giggling with conspiratorial delight.
"Everyone in Gryffindor's known since last year," Lavender whispered, eyes sparkling. "Ginny's had a crush on Harry since she arrived. She thinks she hides it, but—" Lavender waved her hand dramatically. "Everyone knows. Everyone except Harry. He's as dense as a rock."
Cela chuckled, unable to help herself. "So the whole House is in on this little story."
"Oh, yes," Lavender grinned. "It's our longest-running soap opera."
Cela's lips curved, amusement warming her sharp gaze as she returned to watching Harry and Ginny interact—the boy oblivious, the girl blushing furiously.
"Well," Cela murmured, "let's observe. It will be amusing to see who reaches their love first."
Lavender burst into delighted laughter. "Oh, I like you, Cela. You're just like us—gossiping."
Cela rolled her eyes playfully, though her smirk betrayed her enjoyment. She leaned back, the firelight flickering across her thoughtful face, and continued to watch the intricate dance of tempers, crushes, and whispered secrets unfold around her.