Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The sun was dipping low when Dumbledore, Minister Fudge, Lucius Malfoy, and two grim-faced Aurors approached the small wooden hut at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Smoke curled faintly from the crooked chimney, a strange sight for springtime.

Lucius sneered as they approached. "There's your evidence," he muttered under his breath.

Fudge knocked sharply on the door. A few seconds passed before it creaked open to reveal Hagrid—face flushed, shirt damp with sweat, his large frame blocking the doorway.

"Ah—Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid stammered, his voice thick with forced cheer. But his eyes betrayed him, wide with worry.

Before he could speak further, Lucius shoved past him, his silver-tipped cane tapping against the floorboards. Though Hagrid towered over him, he allowed it, too gentle by nature to push back.

Inside, the hut was warm—too warm for the season—and faint wisps of smoke clung to the rafters.

Lucius's sharp eyes darted around the cramped space. "Strange time of year for a fire, wouldn't you say?" His gaze settled on Hagrid. "Where's the dragon, you oaf? Where did you hide it?"

Hagrid fumbled with his words, attempting an innocent smile. "D-dragon? W-wouldn't I love to see one… always wanted one as a lad…"

"Don't play games," Lucius snapped, stepping closer, his voice low and venomous. "We know you have it. Who helped you? Where is it? Answer me."

Before Lucius could press further, Dumbledore's voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Lucius," the Headmaster warned, "you will not intimidate the staff of this school, nor levy accusations without proof."

Fudge, ever the cautious politician, held up his hands. "Let's not escalate matters. If there's nothing here, no need for drama." His eyes skimmed the room, doubt flickering behind his spectacles.

Dumbledore nodded calmly. "Indeed. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Children do like to embellish tales."

Lucius's lip curled. "This isn't some childish rumour. I've heard it from multiple Pureblood families—and from senior students. They've seen the dragon. Black scales. Fire. Potter and the youngest Weasley boy are involved."

Fudge's expression twisted with discomfort. "Harry Potter? Oh, no, no, let's not involve him. The boy's been through enough… surely we can handle this discreetly."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained composed. "Leave the students be, Cornelius. There's no need to drag children into politics."

Reluctantly, Lucius relented, though dissatisfaction curled in his features. As they stepped outside, Lucius muttered under his breath, barely audible, "They've hidden it well, but I know it's here because they will never lie or report a lie to us…"

A sudden roar echoed from deep within the Forbidden Forest.

Lucius's eyes lit with triumph. "Hear that? They've stashed it in the forest."

Without waiting for permission, Lucius barked orders to the Aurors. "Search the forest. Find the creature."

The Aurors exchanged glances but obeyed, disappearing between the trees.

Fudge opened his mouth to protest, but the words faltered. His fingers clenched at his sides as his mind spun with political calculations—the donations, the influence, the consequences. In the end, he said nothing, burying his unease.

Moments Earlier

At Hagrid's hut, the door burst open as Hermione and Cael stumbled inside, breathless.

Hagrid was crouched by the fire, laughing as Norbert snapped playfully at his fingers, little puffs of flame curling from the dragon's snout. When he spotted Cael and Hermione entered , his face lit up with a wide grin.

"Ah, Cael! Hermione!" he called, waving them over enthusiastically. "Come in, come in — thought yeh might want to see Norbert! Look how big he's gotten, would yeh believe it?" He chuckled, stroking the dragon's scaly head as Norbert let out a small burst of fire that singed the ends of Hagrid's beard.

"Haha — cheeky little thing, nearly burned his mum's beard off!" Hagrid beamed proudly. "Ain't he adorable?"

"Hagrid!" Hermione gasped. "The Minister is here—Lucius Malfoy—they know!"

Hagrid's face crumpled. "Oh, no… what've I done? They'll sack me… worse… they'll take Norbert—they'll—" His voice cracked as he looked toward the corner where the small black dragon, Norbert, hissed softly, smoke curling from his snout.

"Stop blubbering," Cael ordered, his tone sharp. "We don't have time. Hide the dragon. Remove every trace of him."

Hagrid wiped his eyes with a trembling hand. "I… I've got sleeping draught—a potion—I use it when I patrol the forest… makes him sleep real deep…"

"Then use it. Now," Cael snapped.

As Hagrid busied himself with the potion, Hermione frantically cleared away evidence—the dragon scales, the feed buckets, the shredded bedding singed by flame.

Hagrid mixed the sleeping draught into a bowl of raw chicken blood, and Norbert devoured it eagerly. Minutes later, the hatchling's eyes drooped, his body sagging into slumber.

Cael conjured a reinforced crate with a flick of his wand and a precise transfiguration rune etched into the wood. Hagrid gently placed Norbert inside, locking the lid, his eyes shining with fresh tears.

"Please," Hagrid begged, voice breaking. "Don't let them take 'im… please…"

Cael pressed his palm to the crate, whispering ancient runes under his breath. The wood shimmered, hardening beneath his touch.

"We'll handle it," Cael promised. "You—stay calm. Act normal. No tears when they arrive."

A knock echoed from the front door—Dumbledore's voice outside, approaching with the officials.

"Back door," Cael hissed.

He levitated the crate effortlessly, and he and Hermione slipped into the darkness behind the hut, vanishing toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

⸻

They ran, branches whipping past, the crate bobbing between them.

Suddenly, a muffled thud—the crate shook violently, a guttural growl from within.

Hermione's face paled. "They'll hear that—what now?"

"Keep running," Cael ordered.

"Moments later, the echo of voices and footsteps drifted toward them from behind."

"We're caught," Hermione panicked. "If they find us expulsion—Azkaban—Cael—"

"Quiet," Cael cut in, eyes narrowing. "Can you levitate the crate?"

"W-what? Are you—?"

"I have a plan. Just trust me."

Hesitant but desperate, Hermione nodded and cast the spell, the crate floating beside her.

Cael cupped his hands around his mouth and whistled—long and low.

"You're calling them?!" Hermione yelped.

"No," Cael replied, a faint smirk on his lips. "Calling a friend."

Moments later, hoofbeats thundered through the trees, and a gleaming silver unicorn burst from the undergrowth.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "A-unicorn?!"

"Later I will explain ," Cael muttered. He turned to the unicorn. "Lenny dear take the girl and the crate. Deep into the forest somewhere safe. Keep them safe."

The unicorn whinnied in understanding, lowering its head.

Hermione clutched the crate, hesitant. "You're leaving me?"

"Trust Lenny she is a good friend , she will keep you safe until I come for you ok," Cael said firmly. "I'll draw them off."

Hermione, still wide-eyed, climbed onto the unicorn's back, the crate floating beside her.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't get caught."

With a graceful leap, the unicorn carried Hermione and the crate deeper into the shadows.

Alone now, Cael traced glowing runes along his arms, his appearance shifting—hair darkening to forest green, clothes blending with the trees, his form camouflaged like a phantom of the forest.

"Alright," he whispered, slipping into the undergrowth as Aurors approached. "Let's distract some Ministry dogs."