Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

Evening cast a heavy shadow across the grounds of Hogwarts, bathing the castle in gold and gray. Classes had ended, but for four students, the day was far from over.

Cael, Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked with purpose across the sloping lawns, wind brushing against their cloaks as they made their way toward Hagrid's hut. Smoke curled from the chimney, but the windows were dim. A heavy stillness clung to the air.

Cael knocked softly.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Inside, they heard a low rustling—then a choked sob.

Hermione gently opened the door.

Hagrid sat hunched at the edge of his massive armchair, his shoulders trembling as quiet sobs shook his frame. His face was buried in his hands, Fang resting at his feet, ears drooping.

"Hagrid?" Cael stepped inside first. "We need to talk to you."

At the sound of their voices, Hagrid looked up—and immediately turned away again, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Harry rushed forward. "Hagrid, don't cry. Please. We know you didn't do it. We believe you."

"Absolutely," Hermione added firmly. "You've done nothing wrong. Don't let Lockhart or the Ministry make you think otherwise."

But Hagrid only shook his head, his great shoulders shuddering. "Yeh don' understand," he choked. "They're not just sayin' I did it… they're sayin' you lot are helpin' me. That you're actin' on my orders…"

His voice cracked. "The idea of that—it breaks me heart…"

Hermione moved beside him and rested a hand on his arm. "We're here because we care. We won't let them pin this on you."

Cael stepped forward. "Hagrid… we need to know the truth. What really happened all those years ago—when you were expelled?"

Sniffling, Hagrid took a deep breath, then slowly reached for a handkerchief large enough to be a small tablecloth. He wiped his eyes, then looked at them with watery determination.

"It was a long time ago. I was just in me third year. I… I'd always been fond of magical creatures. Professor Scamander—yes, Newt Scamander—was visitin' Hogwarts then, guest teachin' a bit o' Care of Magical Creatures. One day, he opened that enchanted suitcase of his and showed me a little Acromantula—only a baby, but clever as they come. I was fascinated. He saw that. Said I had a kind heart and… he gave it to me."

He smiled faintly through his tears. "I named him Aragog. Raised him meself, fed 'im, cared for 'im. But then…"

His voice grew darker.

"A Muggle-born girl was found dead. Word spread fast. The school panicked—so did the Ministry. Pressure mounted. Parents threatened to pull their children. The Headmaster then, Armando Dippet, didn't want the school shut down."

"And someone needed to take the blame," Cael said quietly.

Hagrid nodded.

"A Slytherin fifth-year—Tom Riddle—claimed he saw me with Aragog. Said the beast had escaped and killed the girl. There was no trial. No evidence. Just fear. Dippet expelled me, and the Ministry snapped me wand. But Professor Dumbledore… he believed me. He begged them to reconsider. In the end, Dippet let me stay on the grounds, doin' odd jobs. Years later, when Dumbledore became Headmaster, he gave me this hut and made me Gamekeeper."

He looked up at them. "But I swear on me life, I had nothin' to do with what's happenin' now."

There was a sudden, sharp knock at the front door.

Everyone froze.

Footsteps. Voices.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione whispered.

Hagrid's eyes widened. He rose quickly, moving toward the back door. "You lot need to go. Out the back, now. If they see yeh here, it'll only make things worse."

"But—" Harry began.

"No. Go. I don' want yeh dragged into this mess. Please."

With great reluctance, the four of them slipped out the back as the front door opened.

⸻

From the trees, Cael, Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched through the narrow gap between hut and garden.

Professor McGonagall entered first, looking grim. Behind her was Minister Fudge, portly and stiff, followed by two Aurors and—shockingly—Gilderoy Lockhart, who stood off to the side with a self-important smile.

"Hagrid," McGonagall began, "they've… come to question you."

"I know," Hagrid said quietly.

McGonagall turned sharply to Fudge. "He is under Hogwarts' protection. You can't just—"

"Minerva," said Fudge, lifting a hand. "I understand your concern. I don't want to do this. But the Board of Governors and the victim's' parents are breathing down my neck. Four attacks, no answers, and now this… history."

"No proof," McGonagall snapped. "Only fear."

"And fear," said Fudge, "is exactly why we need to act."

An Auror stepped forward, wand drawn. "Mr. Hagrid, come quietly."

Hagrid took a deep breath, hands raised. "I've done nothin' wrong. You know I haven't."

"Please," McGonagall pleaded, stepping between them, "you know this man. You were students here once. You know his heart."

Some of the Aurors faltered. One lowered his wand. But others remained unmoved.

"Enough," said Fudge. "Hagrid will not be harmed. We're taking him to the Ministry, not Azkaban. Dumbledore himself sent a letter insisting he not be sent to prison. He'll be under our watch."

Hagrid looked down. "Tell Dumbledore… I never broke me promise."

Then, without resistance, he allowed them to take him.

Once the Ministry party had disappeared into the darkness, Professor McGonagall lingered for only a moment, staring at the spot where Hagrid had stood—then she turned and marched back toward the castle, shoulders squared.

Behind the hut, the four of them remained silent.

As they walked back across the grounds, the night colder than before, Hermione whispered, "Now we know what really happened. And it started where I thought—the second-floor bathroom."

Harry nodded. "With Hagrid gone and Dumbledore not here… we're running out of time. We need to act before something worse happens."

"I agree," Cael said quietly. "And… I think I know what the monster is."

They stopped walking.

Ron looked at him. "You what?"

Cael nodded. "Think about it. What is Slytherin's emblem?"

"A snake," said Ron.

"Exactly. And it's a snake that can do this—petrify without a single spell. That's why no counter-spell works. That's why even Malfoy's still frozen at St. Mungo's. It's not Dark Magic. It's… a creature. A basilisk."

Hermione's breath caught. "But the basilisk's gaze kills. No one's died—only petrified."

Cael nodded. "Which means everyone saw it indirectly. Through water, through a ghost, through glass. Malfoy was found near the flooded floor by Myrtle's bathroom. He must've seen its reflection. And Theodore Knott—he was petrified while looking through Nearly Headless Nick's ghostly body."

The logic hung in the air—undeniable and terrifying.

"We have to tell someone," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall. She'll believe us."

"No," Hermione said grimly. "They won't listen. Not now. But we'll tell her anyway. If we wait, more people will get hurt."

Cael looked back at the dark forest. "We're running out of allies. But we still have to figured out who is the one responsible for opening the Chamber of the secrets ?"