Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The Room of Requirement had reshaped itself once again—this time into a circular study lined with ancient shelves and lit by the warm glow of floating candles. At its heart sat Cael, hunched over an aged oak desk, parchment and ink before him, and the door key lying still like a relic awaiting rebirth.

The artifact, palm-sized and shaped like a sunburst surrounding a dark central circle, pulsed faintly in response to the runes already inscribed upon it. Cael dipped his quill into a vial of glowing ink and murmured, "Alright. Let's finish this."

One by one, with painstaking precision, he etched the final runes into the key's frame, using his wand as a stylus. The ink glowed gold as it traced along the grooves, and with each completed rune, the object vibrated softly beneath his touch, like it recognized the pieces of itself being restored.

Just as he reached for his wand to activate the key, the voice of the system echoed in his mind.

[SYSTEM]: Host. Are you truly this reckless? Planning to teleport to an unknown location without any supplies or preparation? Do you want to starve to death?

Cael blinked. "Right," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Food, water… you've got a point."

[SYSTEM]: Of course I have a point. Without me, you'd be dead. Multiple times. Honestly, I deserve a raise. Or worship.

Cael rolled his eyes. "Oh, thank you, great goddess of the system," he said dryly. "How could I ever survive without you?"

[SYSTEM]: You couldn't. Glad you're finally learning.

With a faint chuckle, he left the Room of Requirement and made his way toward the castle kitchens. Inside, house-elves scurried to and fro, still cleaning up from the Christmas feast. Cael realized with a pang of irritation that he'd missed both lunch and dinner out of excitement for unlocking the runes—his stomach grumbled in agreement.

He asked for preserved food—anything that wouldn't spoil quickly. The elves were more than happy to oblige, handing him bundles of charmed bread, enchanted jerky, sealed jars of stew, and several bottles of pumpkin juice, water, and orange extract. He packed them into a bottomless pouch, thanked the elves, and hurried up to Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was empty; the twins were probably out causing mischief again. He shook his head. "Told them not to roam the castle," he muttered. "They never listen."

He grabbed a few changes of warm clothing and thick outerwear, stuffing them into the pouch before heading back to the Room of Requirement. There, he sat down once more and completed the final rune.

Nothing happened.

He stared at the door key.

"System? It's not working."

[SYSTEM]: Did you try infusing magic into it? Or were you planning to wish it into action?

Cael groaned. "Right. Magic. Silly me."

Placing his wand over the key, he let a steady stream of magic flow into the runes.

Immediately, the artifact came alive.

The runes ignited in golden fire, swirling in a spiral of light—and then the world around him folded inward.

⸻

He was falling.

Sky above, snow below, wind tearing past him like a scream. The ground rushed up—

WHAM.

He landed face-first in a snowbank with all the elegance of a dropped sack of potatoes.

[SYSTEM]: That was graceful. Shall I record this fall in slow-motion for future reference?

Cael groaned and spat snow. "First time using a door key," he muttered, pushing himself up. "Next time, warn me."

Around him stretched a wide, snow-covered courtyard encircled by mountains that loomed like dark sentinels. The castle that stood before him was massive and ancient, its walls made of seamless black stone that shimmered faintly with residual magic. Even in the dim light, it cast a long, cold shadow.

Pulling his cloak tighter, Cael cast Lumos.

The soft white light glowed at the tip of his wand, casting a cone of light over the dark surroundings. The castle felt… empty. Still. Silent.

He approached the large double doors, towering and shut tight. Instinctively, he tried Alohomora—nothing happened.

He frowned, then pulled the door key from his pouch and held it to the carved indentation near the center.

Click.

With a groan of ancient stone and magic, the doors swung open.

Inside, the entry hall was revealed, lit by hanging crystal lights that ignited on their own as he stepped in. The floor beneath his boots was obsidian marble, polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting every shimmer.

All along the walls hung tall, regal paintings—but not a single one moved.

He paused before a painting of a man battling a serpent-like dragon with a tall cane. Another showed a woman walking beside a gentle giant. Further down was a depiction of humanoid beings with wings like gossamer, their expressions eerily solemn.

"These aren't fantasy," Cael whispered. "They're… records. Of what once was."

He passed under a vaulted arch, his steps echoing. The castle didn't feel abandoned. It felt… waiting.

⸻

The hallway opened into a grand chamber, and the lights shifted, intensifying.

From the shadows above, a screech echoed—loud, shrill, and primal.

He ducked just in time.

A massive eagle-like creature descended with thunderous speed, its wings the width of the chamber, its feathers metallic silver with hints of gold. Its talons dug gouges into the stone floor as it landed before him.

Sharp amber eyes stared into his soul.

"Of course," Cael muttered. "There's always a test."

The creature shrieked and lunged. He fired a Stupefy. It glanced off harmlessly.

Expelliarmus. Bombarda. Reducto.

Nothing worked.

[SYSTEM]: Magic-resistant Arcane Beast. You'll need runes, Host.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Cael yanked a parchment from his pouch, runes pre-written in enchanted ink.

"ᚨᛞᚢᛚᚠᚨᛊ—Adulfas!"

A ring of binding light erupted around the creature's shadow—it froze mid-screech, wings tightening—

CRACK.

The runes shattered under its strength.

It lunged again—he barely rolled away, the floor exploding behind him from its talons. He scrambled to his feet and activated a second rune.

"ᛒᚱᛁᛞᚾᛁᛋ—Bridnis!"

Chains of golden light lashed the creature's wings, dragging it downward. It crashed, wings tangled. Cael dashed aside as it thrashed.

He slammed a final parchment to the ground and traced the activation rune into the stone.

"ᚲᛟᚾᛏᚱᛟᛚ—Kontrol."

The runes glowed blood-red—then white—before spiraling up into the air.

The creature froze.

Its wings folded. Its talons retracted. It took a slow step back… and then bowed.

The crystals above brightened, as if in approval, casting beams of light toward a hallway now revealed.

A path.

Cael stood there, breath ragged, shoulders aching.

[SYSTEM]: Not bad, Host. Though you did nearly get flattened. Twice.

"Yeah," he panted. "But I passed."

He turned toward the new hallway, his hand tightening around his wand, the door key pulsing softly in his pouch.