Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

After lunch, just like the year before, the First Years were gathered to sign the Ministry's contract—the standard agreement forbidding underage magic outside school, especially in the Muggle world. The older students, meanwhile, packed their trunks and prepared to head home for the summer.

Cael made his way up to the Gryffindor dormitories, his satchel slung over his shoulder, already half-lost in thought. Two months back in Diagon Alley. Not exactly thrilling—but useful. More time to prepare, to study, to plan. He packed his belongings neatly, shrinking some items with spells learned discreetly during the year. His trunk would be sent to the train by the house-elves, so there was no need to haul it around himself.

By the time he made his way to the carriages, Fred and George Weasley had already found him, dragging Lee Jordan along. The three of them were laughing, joking, and weaving through the crowd of students as they headed toward the station at Hogsmeade.

The carriages, as always, rolled along the path, drawn by creatures invisible to most. Cael's eyes lingered for a moment on the empty space where the Thestrals pulled them—a strange, ghostly presence that most students ignored.

The Hogwarts Express waited, steam billowing from the scarlet engine. They boarded together, finding an empty compartment, and soon the train rumbled to life, beginning the journey south toward London.

Sometime into the ride, Fred leaned forward, grinning.

"Well, that was an eventful year, eh? Oi, Cael—what'd you pick for your electives next year? Third Year means choices!"

Cael smirked slightly. "Arithmancy. Care of Magical Creatures—Professor Katelborn's class—and Study of Ancient Runes."

Lee's eyebrows shot up. "No Divination? You're skipping the chance to have your death predicted every week?"

Cael shook his head, amused. "No thanks. I don't think Professor Trelawney's crystal ball has much to teach me. Even McGonagall agrees with me on that one."

George groaned dramatically. "Come on, mate, easy O.W.L. marks! You can practically make stuff up, and she'll love you for it."

Fred snorted. "Yeah, McGonagall hates her guts though. Remember Bill told us? When he was in Third Year, Trelawney predicted McGonagall would marry some 'mysterious stranger'—McGonagall nearly hexed her out the window for that."

They all burst out laughing at the thought of the stern Transfiguration professor squaring off with the whimsical Divination teacher. The conversation meandered after that—Quidditch matches, prank ideas, and gossip—as the train cut through the countryside.

Nearly four hours later, the train hissed to a stop at King's Cross Station. Students poured onto the platform, reuniting with parents and friends. Cael slung his bag over his shoulder, bidding farewell to Fred, George, and Lee with a handshake and a smirk.

As he turned, a familiar voice called, dripping with amusement.

"Why are you hiding from me, Cael? I don't bite… much."

He spun to find Cassandra Vole, arms folded, an infuriating smirk curling on her lips. Her green eyes glittered with mischief—and just a hint of danger.

Cael chuckled, playing along. "Hiding? Me? Come now, Princess, what makes you think I'd be scared of you?"

Cassandra arched an eyebrow, stepping closer. "You should be, Mr. Vale. I won the challenge, after all."

"One mark," Cael said, groaning dramatically. "You beat me by one mark—in Herbology, of all things."

Her grin widened. "Doesn't matter. A win is a win. And that means I get to collect my prize… when I decide to."

Before he could retort, she turned, her parents approaching nearby. They waved politely at Cael; he returned the gesture, offering a tight smile.

Cassandra said " see you later pretty boy " 

And she walked towards her parents.

Across the platform, he spotted Harry Potter deep in conversation with the Weasleys—and, surprisingly, James Potter standing with them. On the other side, Hermione Granger waved to him as she left with her parents. Cael smiled faintly, waving back before making his way toward the Floo network fireplaces near the station.

Moments later, green flames engulfed him, and with a whoosh, he stepped out into the Leaky Cauldron.

The tavern was quiet in the evening light, only a few patrons nursing drinks at scattered tables. Tom, the old innkeeper, polished glasses behind the bar, looking up as Cael approached.

"Back already, lad?" Tom greeted, eyes crinkling with a knowing smile.

"Yeah. Long time no see, Tom," Cael replied. "Need a room for the summer."

"The usual price," Tom said, reaching for a brass key. Cael paid in Galleons, then climbed the stairs to his familiar, rented room.

It was small but serviceable—four-poster bed, writing desk, and a view over Diagon Alley. He flicked his wand, casting a cleaning charm, then unpacked his belongings. After a quick shower, he collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion from the journey pulling at him.

Sleep came fast… until a faint sound stirred him.

Cael's eyes snapped open. Instinct had his hand on his wand as he sat up.

A small figure stood near the foot of his bed—large eyes glinting, ears long and drooping.

A house-elf.

Cael's grip on his wand tightened. "Who are you? What are you doing in my room?"

The elf bowed low, tiny hands clasped together. "Greetings, young master…"

Cael frowned, confusion prickling at the back of his mind.

Young master?

What in Merlin's name was going on?