Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

On the morning of Christmas Day, Cael made his way down from the Gryffindor dormitory to the common room. The lounge was quieter than usual, with most students having gone home for the holidays, but the fire crackled warmly, and a faint smell of pine lingered in the air.

To his surprise, there was quite a pile of gifts waiting for him near his spot by the fireplace.

"Oi, Merry Christmas, Cael!" Fred called, tossing a sweet at him.

"Merry Christmas!" George added with a grin.

"Same to you two fellas," Cael replied with a smirk, settling down to open his presents.

The first one he reached for was neatly wrapped in brown parchment, his name written across it in careful, tidy handwriting. He didn't need to check the label — it was from Hermione Granger.

Opening it, he smiled softly. It was a handkerchief, plain white, with his name embroidered in small, neat letters in the corner.

"Practical as ever," he muttered fondly. "Thank you, Hermione."

The next present was wrapped in green paper — unmistakably Cassandra's style. Inside was a thick, well-bound book on Herbology, the title etched in gold: A Thousand Magical Plants and Their Properties.

"Planning to make me a Herbologist now, are you ?" Cael chuckled to himself, flipping through the pages briefly.

From the Weasley twins, unsurprisingly, came joke props — some enchanted candies that promised temporary red hair, among other effects. Lee Jordan gifted him a fine quill, while the Gryffindor girls each contributed as well: Katie Bell handed him a small, gleaming Snitch; Angelina Johnson gifted him a book on Quidditch tactics; and Alicia Spinnet, of course, delivered a box of Honeydukes' finest sweets.

His pile of gifts from friends and even a few professors left him pleasantly surprised — he had sent gifts as well, small but thoughtful ones. After opening everything, he made his way to the Great Hall, offering cheerful "Merry Christmas!" greetings to the professors present. The feast for those staying behind at Hogwarts was grand, filled with warm food, enchanted crackers, and floating decorations.

Later that day, Cael slipped away to the Room of Requirement, determined to put some time into his studies. He pored over runic scripts, practicing until his head ached — he was nearly done with his first step of learning 1200 runes, aiming to complete it before the year ended.

After some hours, hunger called him back to the castle for dinner. The meal was lively but calm, with far fewer students than usual. His mind still buzzing from study, Cael headed back toward the Gryffindor common room. But as he climbed the staircase, the castle seemed to shift beneath him — the stairs veered off in a different direction entirely.

He frowned. "Hmph. The castle's playing games… no—" He paused, realization dawning. "No, this is Dumbledore's doing… Trying to test me, are you?" He narrowed his eyes, amused more than annoyed. "Well, let's find out what it is I supposedly desire."

The staircase deposited him before an old, unused classroom. He pushed the door open, stepping inside. At the far end stood a tall, ancient mirror — the Mirror of Erised. The inscription along the top caught his attention instantly:

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

Cael smirked faintly as he read it backward in his head. I show not your face but your heart's desire.

"So that's how it is…"

Walking up to the mirror, he stood before it, eyes meeting his reflection — and suddenly, his breath hitched.

There they were.

His parents. His brother, bald as ever — a familiar look from the treatments he'd needed. His sister, arms crossed, scowling in that endearingly annoyed way she always did. And behind them, their old house from his previous life, standing exactly as he remembered.

A sharp ache twisted in his chest. Memories surged — warmth, laughter, arguments, small, forgotten details now painfully vivid.

"I… I hope you're alright," he whispered, his voice cracking softly. "I hope you didn't… fall apart after I—" His words faltered. His eyes stung, but he didn't look away.

"I wish you were here," he admitted, sinking down to the floor. For a long while, he sat there, simply watching them, letting the flood of memories wash over him. Time slipped by unnoticed.

Eventually, he stood, brushing his eyes quickly with his sleeve. He cast a quiet, precise spell: "Revelio."

Nothing happened. No one hidden. No Dumbledore lurking in the shadows, as he'd half expected.

"Huh," Cael muttered, lips curling in faint amusement. "Guess I'm not important enough to warrant a visit like Harry got."

Still, curiosity tugged at him. He returned to the mirror a few more times over the following days, but eventually, the mirror was moved. The room was empty now, its secrets gone with it.

With a shrug, Cael turned away. "Looks like Dumbledore got what he wanted," he said under his breath. "Or maybe… I just wasn't interesting enough."

Unbeknownst to him, far away in the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore stood before the Mirror of Erised, his blue eyes twinkling thoughtfully.

"So," Dumbledore murmured, stroking his beard, "nothing but his own reflection in the mirror… curious indeed."

He trailed his fingers across the ancient glass.

"Those who see only themselves are said to be the happiest… yet after all the mischief young Mr. Vale's managed these past two years, I wouldn't have guessed…" His gaze softened. "Perhaps… perhaps he hides his desires even from himself."

Fawkes, his phoenix, let out a low, melodic trill. Dumbledore smiled faintly, reaching to stroke the bird's crimson feathers.