Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The next morning, the Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet, the fire crackling softly as the early winter wind rattled the windows. Fred and George sat flanking Lee Jordan on one of the worn-out couches, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione gathered near the hearth, nursing cups of pumpkin juice.

Cael entered with a brooding look and sat between them, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. Then, in a low voice, he said, "Last night… something happened."

The others looked up immediately.

"I had an encounter," Cael continued. "In the corridors. Someone—or something—was there. I couldn't see their face. I couldn't even tell if they were male or female. Their features were hidden, cloaked in darkness "

Hermione leaned forward, frowning. "So… you didn't see anything at all? No face? Not even a clue?"

Cael shook his head. "No. I tried. I even used a spell to illuminate them, but they were fast, and clever. Whoever it was, they used wordless magic. Powerful wordless magic. I barely managed to hold my own in the duel."

"A duel?" Fred asked sharply.

"Yes," Cael nodded. "It didn't last long—but long enough to know they were highly skilled. Their spellwork was fast, fluid… dangerous."

The group was silent. Hermione looked deeply unsettled.

"I wanted to tell you all to be careful," Cael said, his voice low and serious. "Especially you two," he added, looking at the twins. "You sneak out at night more than anyone. If the person stalking the halls is the one targeting pure-bloods… well, you'll be next."

Fred and George exchanged a look and nodded solemnly.

Hermione fiddled with the sleeve of her jumper. "Did you see where they went? Or what they were doing?"

"No," Cael said. "Before I could get a clue, the Prefects and Filch came around the corner. The figure vanished. I had no choice but to retreat to the common room."

Ron rubbed his temple. "So where exactly did this happen?"

"Somewhere after curfew. One of the upper corridors. And they wore all black… some kind of enchanted fabric, maybe even a Disillusionment Charm."

They were all quiet again.

"Just… be cautious," Cael said finally. "Whoever it was, they're not just roaming around. They're hunting."

Before anyone could respond, he stood. "Come on. We don't want to miss Professor Lockhart's big dueling demonstration."

The others groaned, but followed.

⸻

The Dueling Club

The Great Hall had been transformed. The long tables were gone, replaced with a raised dueling platform in the center. Students filled the room, chattering in excitement. Cael stood beside Hermione, the twins, and Harry as the double doors flew open dramatically.

In came Professor Lockhart, beaming in gold robes with an exaggerated twirl, his golden cloak flaring behind him. He threw it into the crowd like a rock star throwing a scarf; several girls shrieked and fought over it.

"Welcome! Welcome, dear students!" Lockhart called, his voice echoing through the hall. "Today you will witness the finest display of magical dueling Hogwarts has ever seen!"

He gestured flamboyantly. "And here is my esteemed assistant for today—Professor Severus Snape!"

Snape stepped onto the platform, robes billowing, his expression unreadable but sour. A few Slytherins cheered half-heartedly.

"As we demonstrate," Lockhart said, "please note the proper dueling etiquette: bowing, turning, wand ready…"

He and Snape faced each other. Lockhart grinned; Snape sneered. They bowed.

Then—BANG—Snape blasted Lockhart straight in the chest with a nonverbal spell. The Defense professor flew backwards and landed in a heap.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Lockhart stood up immediately, brushing off imaginary dust. "Ah, yes! Marvelous example! See? That's what happens when you're not prepared! Good shot, Severus!"

Snape said nothing.

"Now then!" Lockhart continued, slightly breathless. "Time to pair off and practice the Expelliarmus spell!"

Students began forming pairs. Fred and George naturally faced each other, Ron with Harry, Hermione teamed up with Neville. Cael stood alone for a moment before someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, Mr. Vale," said a confident voice behind him. "Care to test your skill?"

Cael turned to see Cassandra, wand already in hand.

"With honor, princess," he replied with a grin.

They took their stances and began dueling, launching Expelliarmus spells back and forth with increasing intensity. Others around them grew rowdy—some students even began using jinxes and stinging hexes.

"Enough! ENOUGH!" Lockhart cried, stepping between two students. "We need a proper demonstration! One-on-one, on the stage!"

His eyes found Harry. "Ah—Harry, come up! Let me guide you!"

Snape's gaze swept over the Slytherins and landed on Marcus Flint. "Flint. You'll duel Potter."

The room stirred with disapproval.

"Sir, he's a fifth-year," someone protested. "Harry's only second—!"

"Take your positions," Snape said coldly.

Harry ascended the platform warily, facing Flint.

Flint grinned. "Say goodbye, Potter. I'll avenge Malfoy, you bloody half blood."

Harry raised his wand. "Just don't get embarrassed again."

The duel began. Sparks flew. Flint cast a wild, aggressive spell—and from his wand erupted a snake, landing with a thud between the combatants. It slithered toward Justin Finch-Fletchley with menace.

Cael, watching from the side, narrowed his eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. It should've been Malfoy conjuring the snake—but he's in the Hospital . So… fate found a replacement.

The snake hissed, drawing nearer to Justin. Before anyone could act, Harry stepped forward, murmuring something in a strange, sibilant voice.

A hush fell over the hall.

The snake paused.

Gasps echoed across the room. Several students backed away in fear. Snape looked stunned. Lockhart, flustered, rushed forward.

"Back off, Potter—I'll handle this!"

He cast a clumsy spell. The snake, irritated, reared up again.

Snape intervened, destroying the serpent with a clean flick of his wand.

Justin stared at Harry, pale and furious. "What are you doing? Were you going to set that thing on me?"

Harry stepped back, speechless. Lockhart quickly dismissed the class.

⸻

As they walked back to the common room, Ron turned to Harry. "Merlin , mate—you never told me you could talk to snakes."

Harry frowned. "Isn't that normal? I mean, most wizards can, can't they?"

Awkward silence followed.

Cael sighed. "Harry… it's not normal. Speaking Parseltongue is rare—extremely rare. It's usually inherited through bloodlines. And the most famous Parselmouth in wizarding history?"

Harry blinked. "Who?"

"Salazar Slytherin," Cael said with a pointed look.

Harry went pale. Ron half-joked, "Maybe you're his descendant."

Harry bristled. "No. No, I'm not. I don't want to be associated with a bloody murderer who hated Muggles."

"It's not necessarily a bad thing," Cael replied, calm and steady. "What matters is what you do with the legacy, not where it came from."

Harry shot him a sharp look and said nothing more.

Behind them, the twins joked nervously. "Watch out, George," said Fred. "Harry's got it in for pure-bloods now."

"Better not fall asleep first," George whispered, and they laughed. Lee Jordan chuckled with them, trying to cut through the tension.

But the damage was done.

⸻

By that evening, the rumors were everywhere.

Some students whispered that Harry was a hero—fighting back against the injustices pure-bloods had committed over the centuries. Others, particularly among the Slytherins, accused him of being the Heir of Slytherin himself.

A few even suggested he was responsible for the recent attacks. That he was using Parseltongue to command whatever monster haunted the school. Some demanded his expulsion.

And in the center of it all, Harry Potter walked through the halls of Hogwarts—hunted not by a creature in the dark, but by the fear in the hearts of those around him.

And somewhere in the shadowed corridors, the real enemy smiled.