Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The corridors of Hogwarts were unnaturally quiet as Cael and Hermione made their way toward the second floor. The tension in the air was so heavy it clung to every step like fog. Their pace quickened as they approached Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Hermione glanced sideways at Cael. "Have you found any clues about who's responsible for the attacks?"

Cael nodded, eyes sharp with focus. "I think so. Do you remember what I told you last term? I confronted the person behind it—or at least a shadow of them. They had a black notebook. It had a name on it… Tom Riddle."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Tom Riddle? But that's the same name Hagrid mentioned. He said it was a Slytherin fifth-year who accused him of opening the Chamber fifty years ago."

"Exactly," Cael said. "It's all connected—the diary, the name, Hagrid's expulsion. That notebook is more than just a journal. It's the heart of all this."

Hermione nodded. "So you have found something. I've been digging too. For months, actually. I couldn't find anything concrete about the creature itself—but I did find records on the castle's plumbing. Hogwarts has an ancient network of tunnels built behind the walls. They're mostly used for water drainage, but I think… I think that's how the monster moves."

Cael's expression shifted to admiration. "Smart girl. That makes perfect sense. The Basilisk is using the pipes."

They reached the entrance to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, its door slightly ajar. Inside, the sink basin was wide open, revealing the dark tunnel spiraling down below. But there was no sign of Harry, Ron, or any professors.

Then, with a soft whoosh, Moaning Myrtle floated down from the ceiling, her translucent form gliding to hover in front of Cael.

"Ohhh… so you're the famous Cael everyone talks about," she purred. "The girls whisper about you all the time. 'Handsome,' they say. 'Beautiful Icy eyes.' And now I see what they mean…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why is that sink open, Myrtle?"

Myrtle's expression soured. "Ugh, you. Rude little thing, always bossing people around. Those buck teeth of yours make you look like a beaver."

Hermione flushed but kept quiet.

Cael stepped forward, keeping his voice calm. "Please, Myrtle. We need to know what happened. Did someone go down there?"

Myrtle turned back to him, sighing dreamily. "Well, since you're so polite and dashing… yes. That boy with the glasses—Harry Potter—and his freckly sidekick went in. They were with that ridiculous professor… what's-his-name, the blonde one who likes himself too much."

"Lockhart," Hermione muttered, scowling.

Cael leaned over the sink, confirming that the tunnel was indeed open. So it happened like canon, he thought.

He turned back. "We should go inform Professor McGonagall and Snape—"

"No," Hermione interrupted, her voice firm. "There's no time. They could be in danger. We have to go now."

Cael hesitated for only a moment. Then he nodded. "You're right."

Without another word, he took Hermione's hand—and together they jumped into the sink and disappeared into the darkness.

⸻

The chute spat them out onto the damp floor of a stone tunnel. The air was cold and smelled of mold and age. They rose to their feet and pressed forward, wands drawn.

Not long into their descent, they came across an enormous, glistening length of shed skin—serpentine, and easily the size of a small boat.

Cael whistled low. "This would sell for a fortune…"

Hermione shot him a look. "Focus."

They moved quickly through the serpentine tunnels, eventually reaching a massive stone door carved with serpents. It was already open.

Inside, just beyond the threshold, lay Gilderoy Lockhart—unconscious and disheveled.

Cael crouched beside him and thought to himself . 'Looks like he tried Obliviate. Ron's broken wand must've backfired.`

They moved on.

The true heart of the Chamber loomed before them—pillars towering like stone trees, their serpentine carvings twisted and lifelike in the gloom.

And in the middle of it all was Harry.

He knelt beside Ginny's unmoving body, pale as snow. Ron was crouched beside them, his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.

"She's alive," Ron said breathlessly. "Just unconscious. I think she's… I think she's okay."

Cael looked around, uneasy. There was no sign of a Basilisk. No figure in black. No diary. Nothing.

Harry stood, eyes wide and dark with confusion. "The Basilisk's gone," he said. "There was a voice, something calling, but then… nothing. When we got here, she was just lying there."

Cael stepped forward. "Then let's get her out. We can bring her to Madame Pomfrey and call the Aurors. Someone has to investigate this place properly."

He was about to turned to leave—

—when a cold, sharp presence pressed against the back of his neck.

A wand.

He froze.

So did Harry and Ron.

And a voice, low and mocking, spoke from the behind :

"Leaving so soon, Cael?"