Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the Forbidden Forest as Harry and Ron made their way down the grassy slope towards Hagrid's hut. Smoke curled lazily from the crooked chimney, and Fang's deep barks echoed from inside.

As they approached, the door swung open, revealing Hagrid's towering frame.

"'Bout time yeh two came down," Hagrid greeted, beaming under his wild beard. "Come in, come in."

The inside of the hut was warm and cluttered, smelling faintly of woodsmoke and whatever stew Hagrid had bubbling in a massive iron pot. Fang thudded his way over, nearly knocking Ron into the firewood stack, before settling by Harry's feet.

They squeezed onto the chairs, oversized mugs of tea already waiting.

"Alright there, Harry? Ron?" Hagrid asked, settling his enormous bulk onto a chair that creaked dangerously.

"We're fine," Harry replied, accepting his tea. His green eyes gleamed, sharper than Hagrid remembered from other first-years. "Well… mostly fine. Apart from Snape breathing down my neck every day."

Ron nodded vigorously. "Yeah, he's proper mental about it too. Always picking on Harry, taking points for nothing."

Hagrid chuckled, shaking his shaggy head. "Snape's… complicated," he muttered. "But Dumbledore trusts him."

Harry leaned forward, not hiding his suspicion. "I don't know why. He hates me — always has. Can't go to class without him insulting my dad, or looking for an excuse to take points from Gryffindor. He detests me."

Hagrid scratched his beard awkwardly. "Dumbledore won't have anyone in Hogwarts he doesn't trust, Harry. Yeh've got to believe that."

Harry didn't argue, but his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, clearly unconvinced.

Hagrid cleared his throat, shifting the subject. His gaze softened as it landed on Harry, a distant look in his eyes.

"Yeh know… yeh remind me of yer mum sometimes."

Harry blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. "You knew her well?"

"Aye," Hagrid nodded, his expression growing fond and a little wistful. "Lily Potter… smartest witch of her age, no doubt. Brilliant at spells, cleverer than half the professors… but not just that — she had heart. Helped people. Even me."

Ron's jaw dropped a little. "Helped you?"

Hagrid chuckled. "Don't sound so surprised, Ron. Yeh mum's the same way — good heart runs in families, sometimes. But Lily — she was somethin' else. She'd always be in the library, buried in books, searchin', readin'…"

"She was always studying?" Harry asked, curious now.

Hagrid nodded. "All the time. One day, I asked her… 'Lily, why're yeh always hidin' in the library? Go have fun like the others — play, enjoy Hogwarts!'"

Hagrid paused, smiling faintly at the memory.

"And she told me…" His voice lowered, as if revealing something secret. "'I can't, Hagrid. I've got a sister who's not a witch. I'm trying to find a way to help her — to make her magical, so we can share this world together.'"

Harry sat up straighter, eyes wide. "My mum had a sister?"

Hagrid's bushy brows rose. "Course she did. Y' got family on yer mum's side, even if… well…" He hesitated. "It's complicated. But Lily loved her, tried to help. She searched day and night in the library, lookin' for ways… she told me she found clues in potions — and in ancient runes."

Harry absorbed the information, his mind racing. He had a family he'd never heard about — and his mum had been working to bring her sister into the magical world?

Ron frowned. "Wait — can yeh really do that? Make a non-magical person a wizard?"

"Hardly ever," Hagrid admitted. "But Lily… if anyone could've figured it, it'd be her. Brilliant girl. Determined, too."

Harry's fingers tightened around his mug, a mixture of pride and curiosity building in his chest.

Before he could press further, there was a sharp tap at the window. An owl hovered outside with a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet. Hagrid opened the window, took the paper, and spread it across the table.

The headline blared in bold letters:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN — VAULT 713 TARGETED!

Attempted Robbery Thwarted — Vault Already Empty

Ron whistled low. "Gringotts? That's impossible. No one breaks into Gringotts."

Harry read the article, brows furrowed.

"Vault 713… same day you went to Diagon Alley, right?" Harry asked, looking up at Hagrid.

Hagrid hesitated, scratching his beard, visibly uncomfortable. "Er… yeah… but don't you worry about that. The thing they tried to nick is… is already here at Hogwarts… on the fourth floor—"

He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening in horror.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"…At Hogwarts?" Harry repeated slowly, voice sharp.

Hagrid's face turned red beneath his beard. "I— I shouldn't've said that…"

"So the thing from Vault 713… the thing someone tried to steal… it's here? In the forbidden corridor?" Harry pressed, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Enough questions!" Hagrid barked, looking flustered. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "It's none o' yer business, Harry. That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Ron repeated, puzzled. "Who's that?"

But Hagrid clamped his mouth shut, crossing his arms like an oversized boulder. "Said too much already."

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, and the two of them stood up, saying their goodbyes to Hagrid before making their way back to the castle. As they walked up the path toward Gryffindor Tower, Ron shoved his hands into his pockets and asked,

"So… what do you reckon? Who's behind the Gringotts break-in? And what's hidden in that forbidden corridor on the fourth floor?"

Harry shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I don't know who… or what… but I've got a feeling that Nicolas Flamel is the key to all of it."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Ron repeated. "How do we find out who he is?"

Harry shrugged. "We can start by asking around. And if no one knows…"—he grimaced slightly—"we'll have to search the library."

At the mention of the library, Ron visibly shuddered, his face twisting like he'd just bitten into something sour.

"Ugh… books," he muttered.

Harry smirked. "We could always ask Hermione."

At that, Ron winced. "But she's not talking to us anymore… remember what we said about her? She was really upset."

Harry's expression darkened with guilt. "Yeah… and we never actually apologized." He sighed. "We should probably do that first. Then maybe she'll help us."

Ron nodded reluctantly as they approached the castle, both deep in thought. But behind them, hidden among the shadows near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a tall, cloaked figure watched their every move.

The figure's voice was low, almost mournful, carried only by the wind:

"At last… Harry, your first trial begins. I'm sorry, my boy… but you must face him. You are the only one who can… the only one who can defeat my greatest failure… my fallen student."

The figure vanished into the night, leaving nothing but the rustle of leaves behind.