Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

Deep beneath the dungeons of Hogwarts, past the flickering green torchlight and through a hidden panel in the far wall of the Slytherin common room, lay a secret chamber few knew existed. In this dimly lit space, cloaked in centuries of silence and secrecy, the Court of Serpents gathered.

Around a long, ancient table carved from obsidian-black stone, shadowed figures sat cloaked and tense. This was no ordinary student meeting—it was something older, more deliberate. Each member represented a pure-blood family, their presence both a symbol and an obligation.

At the head of the table sat a short boy with sharp features and colder eyes. He was not officially the leader, but all present deferred to him without question.

"The Families have sent word," he said in a hushed, commanding voice. "They say it's time. We begin preparations for the next phase of our plans."

A tall student with slicked-back hair leaned forward. "But the situation isn't favorable," he argued. "Three pure-bloods have already been attacked. If we act now, we'll only expose ourselves to the attacks. And with Aurors patrolling every corridor day and night, execution will be… difficult."

Another voice cut through the murmurs. "Don't worry about the attacks. The Families want them to happen. It's the only way to get Dumbledore removed from Hogwarts. The more chaos, the more pressure."

Someone else, a wiry boy with a drawling voice, added, "I heard from my brother who is working at the Department. They're sending new Aurors—most of them from old wizarding families. That means they'll turn a blind eye to anything we do. They won't interfere."

A boy further down the table chuckled. "Oi, Fischer. You've gone quiet lately. Haven't clashed with that Mudblood boy from Gryffindor in a while."

Fischer Frey lifted his head slowly. His eyes gleamed with quiet rage as he glared at the speaker.

"I'm waiting," he said coldly. "This is my final year here. After that… I'll be free. And I promise, that Mudblood won't live much longer."

A heavy silence fell. Even the candles on the walls seemed to flicker less brightly.

Then another boy smirked. "What happened to your little girlfriend from the Vole family, eh? Did you confessed again , or did you give up?"

Frey's expression hardened further. He turned to the smirking boy, Trevers, and replied icily, "I told you once—when a Frey wants something, he'll have it. And if he can't have it… he'll destroy it."

Trevers let out a low chuckle, but the short leader held up a hand.

"That's enough," he snapped. "No personal business here. Discuss that nonsense elsewhere."

Everyone nodded. The Court quieted again, and the leader continued, folding his hands on the table.

"Here's what we'll do: we wait. If another pure-blood is attacked, we begin stirring unrest. We encourage the Slytherins to protest. Demand Dumbledore's removal for endangering the lives of pure-blood students. Pressure from within—and pressure from outside ."

One of the younger members raised a hand hesitantly. "What if Professor Snape intervenes?"

"Don't worry," another member sneered. "Slytherin students respect Snape, but that doesn't mean we're afraid of him. He won't be a problem."

"What matters now," the leader said, "is finding out who is responsible for the Petrifications."

Frey leaned forward again. "It's someone from Gryffindor. Has to be. They're the only ones with enough history of animosity against us."

But the leader shook his head slowly. "Not necessarily. You see, the Chamber of Secrets was opened once before—decades ago. A student was killed then. A Muggle-born. Her parents… well, they didn't take it lightly. They tried to go to the Muggle press because they wanted answers from their dead daughter ."

Several members around the table looked up in surprise.

"What happened to them?" one asked.

"The Ministry stepped in. Obliviated the parents completely—erased all memory of their child. As if she never existed. The official story claimed a Gryffindor was responsible."

There was a pause.

"Who?" someone asked.

"The half-giant," the leader said quietly. "Rubeus Hagrid. And what did Dumbledore do? Took pity on him. Hired him as gamekeeper. Let him live on the grounds."

A few of the members looked shocked. One swore under his breath.

"So," the leader said, his voice turning sly, "here's our next step: spread the rumors. Whisper amongst the students . Let people think Harry Potter is the culprit—and that he's doing it with help from his half-giant friend."

Nods of agreement rippled around the table.