Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The next morning, when the students of Hogwarts trickled groggily down to the Great Hall for breakfast, they were greeted by a sight that jolted them wide awake—the hourglasses displaying House points shimmered ominously in the morning light, and Gryffindor's had plummeted by one hundred and fifty points overnight.

Gasps echoed through the Hall as students clustered around, pointing at the glaring deficit. The Gryffindor table was in uproar, the whispers quickly turning into accusations. Most eyes drifted, almost instinctively, to Cael, the Weasley twins, and Lee Jordan.

Moments later, Percy Weasley stormed over to them, looking positively murderous. His prefect badge gleamed like a warning sign.

"Alright, which one of you was it?" Percy barked, planting himself squarely in front of their table, hands on hips. His face was red with fury, glasses slipping down his nose. "What did you lot do this time to cost us a hundred and fifty points overnight?"

Cael, casually buttering his toast, looked up with an innocent expression. "What makes you think it was us, Percy?"

Percy's face darkened. "Oh, I don't know—shall I start listing every single ridiculous stunt you've pulled just since Christmas? You'd need parchment a mile long."

Fred leaned in, grinning. "Now, now, Mr. Prefect, let's not jump to conclusions. We were all sound asleep last night… after pranking you, of course." He let out a long, dramatic laugh that drew snickers from the surrounding Gryffindors.

George elbowed Fred, joining in. "Yeah, Percy, don't tell me you've forgotten your little… performance last night? Dancing around in your underpants, begging Penelope not to reject you? Honestly, mate, we should've sold tickets."

A few students burst out laughing despite themselves. Even those still fuming couldn't help but smirk at the mental image of Percy twirling around in his pajamas, pining for Penelope Clearwater.

Percy's ears turned crimson, his mouth opening to retort—but he froze when an unmistakable, drawling voice cut through the Hall.

"Serves them right," Draco Malfoy was saying smugly from the Slytherin table, surrounded by jeering housemates. "Told Professor McGonagall myself. Potter and his little gang of troublemakers—caught them sneaking around with a dragon. Imagine that, smuggling dragons right under her nose."

He mimicked exaggerated expressions of fear and shock, his face twisting in an over-the-top imitation of Ron and Harry. The Slytherins roared with laughter.

The Gryffindor table, already simmering with tension, now boiled over. Anger flared, students clenching their fists, muttering under their breaths. It wasn't just losing points—it was the fact Harry Potter, the so-called hero of Gryffindor, had gotten them into this mess.

And yet, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

Unsurprising. Hermione was probably buried in the library, hiding from the world, and the boys likely hiding in the dorm .

After breakfast, students shuffled off to classes, grumbling. Cael, however, had no lessons after lunch and made his way to the library.

Inside the towering rows of shelves, the usual hush filled the air, punctuated only by the faint rustling of pages and Madam Pince's sharp gaze sweeping the room like a hawk.

At the farthest corner, nearly hidden behind a stack of ancient spellbooks, Cael spotted her—Hermione, curled up at a table, a large volume lifted high to shield her face.

A small, amused smile crept onto Cael's face. He nodded politely to Madam Pince, then strode over to her.

Hermione's eyes peeked over the book, widening when she saw him. Immediately, she hoisted the book higher, practically burying herself behind it.

"Go on, then," she mumbled from behind the pages. "You here to scold me, too?"

Cael pulled out the chair opposite her, settling in with an easy grin. "Scold you? Please, I'd never pass up the opportunity for some drama… but first, answer me this—why'd you skip breakfast and lunch? Hiding from the angry mob?"

Hermione sighed, lowering the book slightly, her eyes shadowed with guilt. "I just… didn't want to face everyone. They're furious. And they have every right to be." Her voice faltered. "We lost the House Cup because of us."

Cael shrugged, leaning his arms on the table. "I told you last year, House points are just numbers. They're meant to keep the competition lively, that's all. You know how often McGonagall docks points from me, Fred, George, and Lee? Honestly, we've probably set a record by now."

"That's different," Hermione insisted quietly. "You lot never lost a hundred and fifty points in one night. And it wasn't some silly prank… we—" She trailed off, voice cracking.

Cael tilted his head, his expression softening. "Listen, forget the points. You did the right thing. You saved Hagrid. If the Ministry had found Norbert, he'd be on trial in Azkaban right now, the school under investigation, half the professors probably sacked. You helped your friend when he needed it, knowing the consequences."

Hermione stared at him, uncertainty still clouding her features.

"That's Gryffindor through and through," Cael added firmly. "Loyal to your friends. Courageous when it counts. Points come and go. But doing what's right? That's worth the risk."

Silence stretched between them, the muted shuffle of books the only sound.

Finally, Cael stood, nudging the chair back. "C'mon. Let's go to the common room. The others might be fuming, sure—but give it a few days, they'll move on." He grinned. "Besides, I've smuggled some food from the kitchens. You and Ron look like you could use it—pretty sure Potter hasn't touched a crumb either."

For the first time that day, a faint smile tugged at Hermione's lips.

She closed the book, standing slowly. "Alright… but only if you promise not to prank Percy again today."

Cael winked. "No promises."

Together, they slipped out of the library, their footsteps quietly turned towards the Common Room .