After browsing a few bookshops and robe stores, Hermione turned to Cael with a spark in her eyes.
"My parents said I could get a magical creature as a birthday gift," she said, trying not to sound too excited. "Let's check out the Magical Menagerie. Maybe there's something special there."
Cael grinned. "Sure, sure—why not? Let's see if anything bites. Well… hopefully not literally."
They made their way toward the shop, nestled between an apothecary and a narrow store selling enchanted hats. The bell jingled as they stepped in, the air thick with the musky scent of straw, feathers, and magical fur. Inside, cages and enclosures lined the walls—creatures of every color and sound rustled and chirped, hissed and hooted.
A wiry old wizard behind the counter looked up. "Ah, students! Welcome, welcome. Looking for a familiar, are you? Toads, owls, cats, puffskeins—oh, we even got a new black snake in stock. Dead silent, that one."
Hermione cringed. "No toads. And definitely no snakes."
Cael smirked. "Yeah, she really hates snakes."
Hermione frowned at him but didn't deny it. She moved carefully between cages, inspecting the animals one by one—nothing seemed to call to her.
"I don't know…" she murmured. "They're all sweet, but none feel right."
Then chaos erupted behind them. A ginger blur launched itself from the shadows, knocking over a jar of dried beetles and pouncing on the shopkeeper's robes.
"Oi! Not again, you demon cat!" the clerk shouted, wand drawn, desperately trying to levitate the creature off him.
But the cat had already slipped away and trotted toward Hermione—stopping neatly at her feet. It looked up with bright, squashed eyes, tail curling softly around her legs. Hermione knelt instinctively, and the cat let out a low, pleased meow.
"Oh… hello there," she whispered, smiling.
The shopkeeper limped forward, eyeing the feline with a mix of dread and disbelief. "That one? Are you sure? She's… problematic. Ruined a dozen robes and nearly bit off my apprentice's finger."
But Cael already knew. The moment he laid eyes on it, he recognized the creature—Crookshanks. The very cat Hermione would one day treasure.
"You really want that cat?" he asked cautiously.
"Yes," Hermione said without hesitation. "She's perfect."
The clerk groaned. "Two Galleons, and I'll throw in a creature care card. You'll need it."
Cael pulled out the coins and handed them over. The clerk scribbled a few runes onto a stamped card and handed it to Hermione. "This'll get you discounts on food, tunics, grooming kits, the usual."
"Thank you," Cael said, accepting the card with a nod.
Hermione cradled the cat in her arms, gently stroking its thick fur. "I think she likes me."
"Looks like it," Cael agreed, watching the ginger puff curl up contentedly. "So, have you picked a name yet?"
"Crookshanks," Hermione said brightly. "It was my mum's cat's name when she was my age."
Cael chuckled. "Weird name."
She rolled her eyes. "You'll get used to it."
"Alright then, Crookshanks it is." He grinned. "Come on. I'll take you to my place. You've never been, have you?"
Hermione blinked. "Really? You'd let me?"
"Of course," Cal said. "It's not far. You'll like it."
They returned to the Leaky Cauldron, where Cael handed her a pinch of Floo Powder and whispered the incantation into her ear. "Say it clearly: Blackthorn Hollow."
Hermione nodded, took a breath, and vanished into the green flames.
Cael stepped through after her, arms full of bags and books. The moment he emerged, Hermione was coughing, covered in soot.
"First time using Floo?" he asked with a teasing smile.
She coughed again and nodded. "Ugh. How do people do that all the time?"
"You'll get used to it. You're a witch now, after all."
"I'm also not interested in flying," she muttered.
"You don't hate it," Cael corrected. "You're just afraid. But I'll get you used to it."
She rolled her eyes but smiled, then wandered toward the mantle, where a moving photograph caught her eye.
It showed a teenage girl—icy blue eyes and long black hair—laughing with two younger boys. One was about fifteen; the other, perhaps twelve.
"Who's this?" Hermione asked curiously.
Cael glanced over and smiled softly. "That's my mum. And those are my uncles."
"Are you still in touch with them?"
He shook his head. "Not really. My mum… she died. And the youngest one, he's gone too."
Hermione's voice softened. "I'm sorry. What happened to him?"
Cal hesitated, then finally said, "That… was Sirius Black."
Hermione recoiled. "You're joking."
"I wish I were."
He motioned for her to sit and brought out tea, biscuits, and a soft tin of chocolate cake.
"I didn't even know I was a Black at first," he began. "I was raised in an orphanage. I was told my mother died in childbirth, and that my father—well, he wasn't even really my father. Just a Muggle who dropped me off. Years later, I found out the truth."
Hermione listened in silence.
"Last year, I was taken to the Black family manor. There, I met Walburga Black, the last matriarch. She told me everything. My mother was the illegitimate daughter—half-sister to Sirius. The young boy in the photo? That's Regulus Black. So, yes… technically, Sirius is my uncle."
"Merlin," Hermione whispered.
"My mother was an Unspeakable," Cal continued. "She fled the Black family after graduating from Hogwarts. Ran from the abuse. She never looked back."
Hermione hesitated. "And… your father?"
Cael's face darkened. "She wrote about him in her journal. He was a Death Eater. When she found out, she tried to escape, but he cursed her. That curse killed her before I was even born."
Hermione placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry for asking."
"It's alright," Cael said. "I haven't told anyone else. Just… don't tell anyone, okay?"
"You have my word."
Cael leaned back. "You see why I can't go around announcing I'm from the Black family. People like the Malfoys—well, they've been profiting off Black family properties for years. If they found out there's a living heir? They'd try to erase me."
Hermione's brows furrowed. "But… isn't Narcissa Malfoy—"
"Yes," Cael said. "One of three sisters. Bellatrix is in Azkaban. Narcissa married Lucius. And Andromeda, the third, was disowned for marrying a Muggle."
"So Draco is… your cousin?"
Cael looked physically ill. "Don't say that."
Hermione burst into laughter. "But he is! And that makes Lucius your uncle-in-law."
Cael groaned. "I regret telling you everything."
They laughed together, sipping their tea until the sun dipped behind the trees outside.
Eventually, Cael stood. "Let's go practice some spells."
"But the Ministry—" Hermione warned.
"They can't trace it here," Cael said with a grin. "This village is all magical families. No Muggle surveillance, and no trace spells can lock onto us."
To test it, Hermione flicked her wand and cast Lumos. When nothing happened—no owl, no fine—she exhaled in wonder.
He took her to a hidden underground chamber, reinforced with charms and lined with dueling dummies. There, he taught her Protego, Stupefy, and even a few advanced deflecting spells.
Time passed quickly.
"I should go," Hermione said at last. "My parents will worry."
"You can always come back," Cael said.
"How?"
He led her outside and handed her a small scrap of parchment with an address.
"Raise your wand and say you want to summon the Knight Bus. It'll come. Just tell them where to go. As long as you have my address, you can visit anytime."
Moments later, with a bang and a screech, the tall purple bus appeared.
"It's… hideous," Hermione whispered.
"And weird," Cael added, "but faster than any broom."
Hermione held Crookshanks close, gave Cael a smile, and stepped aboard. With a roar, the bus disappeared down the road, and Cael stood there watching it go, the air smelling faintly of magic and soot.