Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The Great Hall of Hogwarts buzzed with anticipation as students gathered for their final lunch of the school year. Sunlight poured in from the enchanted ceiling, casting warm golden rays over the sea of black robes and house banners. The chatter was light, filled with excitement about summer holidays and the last feast that awaited them that evening.

At the Gryffindor table, Cael sat comfortably, his arms resting on the bench. Beside him, Hermione Granger was animatedly chatting with Harry and Ron, her expression bright despite the lingering exhaustion of recent events. She eventually turned to Cael, curiosity dancing in her eyes.

"So, Cael… I've been meaning to ask," Hermione began, tilting her head. "Did you manage to get first place in the year rankings?"

Cael exhaled dramatically, slumping slightly. "Unfortunately, no." His eyes drifted across the hall to the Slytherin table, where Cassandra Vole sat, wearing a knowing, victorious smile. "Second place. Guess someone decided to show off," he muttered, eyeing Cassandra as she smirked back, clearly enjoying her small victory.

The memory of their little challenge resurfaced in his mind — the wager they'd made. Now that she'd won, he wasn't entirely sure what she'd demand, and that was… unsettling.

But rather than dwell on it, Cael turned back to Hermione, his lips curling into a teasing grin. "But enough about that. Did you enjoy your little… adventure to the Fourth Floor?" His voice was laced with amusement.

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the slight smile pulling at her lips. "It wasn't enjoyable, exactly," she admitted. "But… there's something about it that doesn't add up." Her brows knitted together, thoughtful. "Those challenges — the Devil's Snare, the flying keys, the chessboard… They felt oddly… familiar."

Cael's grin deepened, pleased by her sharp observation. "Ah, you've started to see it," he replied, leaning in slightly. "Ever wonder why the first obstacle was Devil's Snare? You studied it during your first Herbology class. Or why the key to unlock the door required flying — just like Harry, the youngest Seeker in a century."

Hermione's eyes widened faintly as he continued.

"Ron conquering the chess match? The final logic puzzle tailor-made for someone like you?" Cael's tone held an edge of challenge. "It wasn't random, Hermione. That whole gauntlet… it was designed for you. For all of you."

She sat quietly for a moment, the pieces clicking together in her mind. "It's like… the obstacles were meant to test us — our specific strengths." Her voice lowered, a tinge of unease creeping in. "But… why?"

Cael shrugged lightly. "That, you'll have to ask Dumbledore. He loves his riddles." His words left Hermione deep in thought as the grand doors of the Hall opened and the hum of conversation faded.

Dumbledore rose from his seat at the high table, the ever-present twinkle in his eyes subdued by the weight of recent events. He stepped forward, his long robes trailing behind him as he approached the podium.

"Another school year comes to an end," Dumbledore began, his voice warm but carrying an undercurrent of solemnity. "We've seen much this year — friendship, loyalty, bravery, kindness… and, above all, love. The most powerful magic our world holds."

The hall listened intently, even the usual whispers falling silent.

"Though we've also faced dark moments," Dumbledore continued, his expression growing grave. "The unfortunate incident in this very hall a few nights ago tested us all. But amidst the chaos, I witnessed something remarkable — students standing together. Protecting one another when danger struck and your professors could not."

There was a soft murmur of agreement as Dumbledore smiled faintly. "That is what Hogwarts is — unity, courage, and the strength to face darkness together. The founders would be proud."

Applause rippled through the Hall, growing into thunderous cheers before Dumbledore raised his hand for quiet once more.

"Now, to the matter of the House Cup," he announced. "I would award it to every house for your bravery… but alas, tradition demands a victor."

A glint of amusement shone in his eyes as he read the tallied points.

"Hufflepuff — 303 points. Well done, Hufflepuff." Applause rang out.

"Gryffindor — 378 points. Very good."

"Ravenclaw — 507 points. Excellent work."

"And Slytherin — 532 points. Remarkable."

The Slytherin table erupted into cheers, many students standing, already celebrating their victory. Draco Malfoy wore a smug, triumphant smirk as he exchanged high-fives with his housemates.

But Dumbledore wasn't finished.

"However…" His voice cut through the cheers, silencing the hall. "We must consider… recent events. As you are aware, dark forces infiltrated our school, placing students under dangerous spells. But some among us rose to the occasion."

His gaze drifted to the Gryffindor table.

"For Mr. Ronald Weasley, for his courage and loyalty in supporting his friends… fifty points."

The Gryffindor table roared with approval. Fred and George stood on the benches, hollering proudly as Ron flushed scarlet, grinning despite himself.

"For Miss Hermione Granger," Dumbledore continued, "whose intelligence and quick thinking guided her friends through peril… fifty points."

Hermione looked mortified by the attention as Cael ruffled her hair playfully, earning a soft, embarrassed smile from her.

"And finally…" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, resting on Harry. "To Mr. Harry Potter — for facing the Dark Wizard alone, for his bravery and unwavering resolve… one hundred points."

The Gryffindor table erupted, red and gold banners seeming to glow brighter. The score magically shifted overhead.

Gryffindor — 578 points.

With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, the hall transformed — green and silver banners replaced by scarlet and gold. The lion of Gryffindor roared proudly from the walls.

"Thus, the House Cup belongs to Gryffindor."

The hall thundered with applause and cheers. At the Slytherin table, discontent simmered. Many scowled, their joy ripped away. None looked more furious than Draco Malfoy, who glared daggers at Harry, Ron, and Hermione — his jaw tight with resentment as the Gryffindors celebrated.

Dumbledore's voice echoed once more. "Now, I bid you all a joyful summer. Spend it with your families, your friends, and return to us safe. Let the feast begin!"

The tables filled instantly with food — roast meats, golden pies, fresh bread, and mountains of desserts. Laughter filled the Hall as students tucked in, chatter resuming, tales of the year shared in between bites.

At the Gryffindor table, the celebration was wild — their unlikely victory a moment of triumph none would soon forget.