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"DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE between you and him," begged Sirius.

"Why?" responded Celestia, pausing for a moment before she spoke again, "because you'll choose him?"

The room had fallen silent. Mrs Weasley stopped cutting the greens, staring at Sirius as he hesitated to respond. Harry had gulped nervously and shifted awkwardly in his seat. No one dared to utter a word.

All the Weasley's , except Molly, averted their gazes towards the table. Hermione, however, was staring at her friend in alertness, as if she were silently pleading for her drop the conversation.

"Yeah," he answered, "I'll choose Harry."

Silence rolled into the room again. This time the eyes all fell onto the fifteen-year-old girl. But all Celestia did was close her eyes as she felt tears well up in them. Her breathing had become shaky, but she refused to show weakness in front of them.

"Sirius! Celestia is your daughter, you can't just—" began Mrs. Weasley.

"You were right, Harry," interrupted Celestia.

"Celestia?" worried Harry.

She had placed her hands onto the table, gripping it tightly. Fury was wafting off of her, and the look in her eye was enough to make anyone shiver. Her knuckles began to turn white as she was holding the table too harshly.

"I'm going to the Malfoy's," Celestia answered shortly, standing up.

"Celestia, you know I didn't mean that—" said Harry.

"They were the ones who raised me," she snapped, "and Narcissa did a darn good job at it."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. No one else either dared to utter a word as they watched the girl fill with rage.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts, Hermione."

"Please don't leave, Cel," pleaded Hermione, standing up.

But before she could make another move to halt her friend leaving, Celestia had grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace. No one else, not even her father, tried to stop her.

Letting out a breath, Celestia spoke, "Malfoy Manor!"

In a flash of green fire, she was gone. Moments later, she arrived at her destination of the olden manor. She stepped out of the fireplace, the fury still burning bright inside of her. However, it faltered slightly moments later when a familiar face appeared.

"Celestia, my dear? What are you doing here? I thought you were with your father?" Narcissa fretted, coming towards the soot ridden girl.

"Aunt Cissy!" smiled Celestia. "Thing's just didn't seem to work out, is it alright if I stay with you?"

Immediately, the worried look on Narcissa's face deepened as she walked towards the girl. Placing her frail hand to the girls cheek, she whipped soot off of her face before she talked again.

"You're always welcome here, come on, let us get you up to bed," responded Narcissa, wrapping a tender arm around the girl and leading her up the staircase.

Celestia relaxed into the familiarity of the women's arms. The manor was just as how she last remembered it; dark and expensive. Considering she had grown up in the house, she knew her way around, but she did not mind Narcissa leading her back to her room.

Her bedroom mirrored every other room in the house. Decorated in green and silver, expensive trinkets decorating the room. Once the duo had reached her bedroom, Narcissa pulled out a set of silk pyjamas and ushered her to the bathroom.

When she exited the bathroom, she was comfortable in pyjamas, but a sad look was now painted over her face. Most of her anger passed and now she was left with miserableness of all that happened tonight. Narcissa ushered her over to the bed, sending her a comforting look.

"I truly wanted a better life for you, outside of our world. I'm sorry your father didn't work out, CeCe," murmured Narcissa.

Celestia smiled slightly at the use of her childhood nickname, moving to be more comfortable on the bed. She opened her mouth, trying to think of a reply. All she could fathom was a solemn look.

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