Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

Breakfast at Hogwarts was always chaotic: owls dive-bombing plates, first-years barely awake, and Ron Weasley shoveling food like it was his last meal.

But today? Today was destined to go down in Hogwarts history.

Cael sat at the Gryffindor table, barely containing his grin. Beside him, Fred and George practically buzzed with anticipation. Lee Jordan juggled a spoon like a nervous magician.

Across the hall, Percy Weasley sat ramrod-straight, hair slicked with enough gel to waterproof a broomstick. He polished his prefect badge so aggressively, it was a wonder the "P" hadn't been sanded off.

"Sleep well, Perce?" Fred asked casually, spooning eggs onto his plate.

"Fine," Percy sniffed, straightening his tie. "Unlike some people, I don't waste my nights on pranks and—"

Before Percy could interrogate them further, the unmistakable whoosh of the morning post filled the Great Hall. Hundreds of owls flooded the room, dropping letters and packages like feathery bombs.

And then—the moment.

A sleek, smug-looking owl swooped low, its talons clutching a glaring crimson Howler. It plummeted straight for Penelope Clearwater at the Ravenclaw table and smacked onto her plate of toast.

Penelope frowned, pushing her prefect badge aside. "What the—?"

Fred elbowed Cael, eyes sparkling. "Here we go…"

The Howler burst open with a thunderclap, and the loudest, most syrupy, most painfully awkward voice boomed through the hall, magically enchanted to sound exactly like Percy—if Percy had chugged three bottles of love potion and suffered a personality transplant.

"My Dearest Penelope, light of my dreary, rule-abiding existence…

Half the hall spat out their drinks.

"MY MOST RADIANT, DELECTABLE PENNY—"

Percy's face went from mildly annoyed to pure horror. "Oh no. No, no—"

"Every time your sparkling sapphire eyes meet mine, my soul combusts like an overworked cauldron…"

A wave of snorts, giggles, and outright howls of laughter rolled through the Great Hall. Even McGonagall's teacup trembled as she struggled to keep a straight face.

"Your eyes sparkle brighter than Madam Pince's freshly polished bookcases…

Penelope's jaw dropped, horror blooming on her face like a rash.

"Your golden hair flows like the enchanted waters of the Prefect's Bathroom…"

George leaned toward Cael, whispering, "I nearly died writing that line."

"When you pass by, my heart quivers like a first-year holding a broken wand…"

"Your voice is sweeter than Honeydukes' finest fudge, your intellect sharper than Filch's most illegal broom cupboard keys…"

At the staff table, Snape slowly set down his goblet, his lip curling into something dangerously close to amusement.

"I long to walk with you by the Black Lake, our hands entwined, ignoring curfew, ignoring consequences—ignoring the rules…"

Percy gasped like he'd been slapped. "I WOULD NEVER—"

"Every time I see you, I yearn to abandon my prefect duties, to throw caution—and timetables—to the wind, and declare my undying devotion by the Black Lake under the moonlight…"

The Howler wasn't finished. Oh no.

"Penelope, you are the key to my broom cupboard of emotions… my forbidden corridor of love… my unauthorized entry into happiness… Will you be mine?"

"You've unlocked the secret chambers of my heart, Penelope. Say you'll be mine—my prefect partner in love and in life. Your admirer, your rule-abiding rebel… Percy Ignatius Weasley."

With a final pop, the letter exploded into a burst of pink heart-shaped smoke.

The hall was in absolute chaos. Gryffindors were howling, Ravenclaws doubled over with laughter, even Hufflepuffs wiped tears from their eyes.

Penelope Clearwater turned to stone, her face a mixture of fury, mortification, and secondhand embarrassment so powerful it could kill a basilisk.

Then she stood.

Every conversation in the Hall screeched to a halt.

Penelope stormed across the floor, stopping right beside Percy, who was trying (and failing) to disappear under the Gryffindor table.

"Percy Weasley," she said loudly, clear as crystal.

Cael leaned forward, the whole hall holding its breath.

Penelope's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't date you if Merlin himself asked me to."

A wave of ooooohs rippled through the hall.

"You're insufferable," she continued, arms folded, voice slicing through Percy's remaining dignity like a freshly sharpened axe. "You're so obsessed with rules you probably file your socks alphabetically."

Cael choked on his juice. Fred snorted so hard toast shot out his nose.

"And you're so serious all the time," Penelope pressed on. "You make Professor Binns look like a stand-up comedian."

Percy's mouth flapped open uselessly. He resembled a traumatized fish.

"And another thing—your idea of flirting? Quoting Hogwarts: A History at me in the library? That wasn't charming. That was tragic."

The Ravenclaw table cackled. Even Hermione winced in sympathy.

Penelope finished, her voice ringing across the stunned crowd: "You're dull, Percy. Dull as dishwater. And for the record? My eyes are brown, not blue."

The hall erupted.

Fred collapsed into George, both wheezing with laughter. Lee was pounding the table, and even McGonagall pressed a hand to her lips to mask a chuckle. Snape looked positively delighted at Percy's suffering.

Percy? His face glowed brighter than the Gryffindor banners. His entire soul seemed to implode.

Penelope spun on her heel, hair flying, returning to her table as the students whooped and hollered like they'd just won the Quidditch Cup.

Fred clapped Cael on the back, nearly knocking him over. "That… was… Diabolical "

George wiped a tear from his eye. "We couldn't have written it better."

Percy, still pink as a radish, shoved his prefect badge into his pocket and muttered, "I'm not dull …"

Cael leaned back, grinning wide. " That was hella funny ."