Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

As Cael stood frozen, eyes locked on the figure before him, a cold voice broke the silence. He turned slowly, and his breath caught in his throat.

Hermione stood there—at least, she looked like Hermione—but something was wrong. Her eyes gleamed with an unnatural frost, her smile curled too wide, too sharp. It was unsettling, disturbing.

Behind him, Harry and Ron had risen to their feet, having just tried to revive the unconscious Ginny. They stared at the strange scene unfolding before them.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, confused. "What are you doing? Why are you pointing your wand at Cael?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Wait—do you think he's the Heir of Slytherin?"

Hermione ignored them, eyes locked on Cael. Her smile widened, unnatural and smug. "Where are you going, Cael?" she asked sweetly. "We still have so much to talk about."

Cael met her gaze evenly. His voice was quiet, steady. "You're not Hermione… are you?"

Her smile twitched. "As clever as ever," she said, her tone shifting to a low hiss. "But also just as foolish."

She pulled a black diary from beneath her robes—Hermione's bag. Cael's eyes narrowed. The same diary. The one he'd seen that night.

"You figured it out that night, didn't you?" she said. "You only won our duel because I was using this Mudblood's magic. Pathetic little wand, weak little soul. I couldn't cast even a quarter of what I'm capable of."

Harry stepped forward, eyes wide. "What are you talking about? Hermione—what's happening to you?!"

Cael spoke before she could. "She's the one who petrified the students, Harry."

The smile on Hermione's face grew sharp, twisted. "Finally meeting you, Potter," she said with a mocking nod.

Cael's voice was sharper now. "So… are you going to reveal yourself, or do you plan to keep hiding behind her face?"

"Don't worry," she said. "I have more than enough magic now to materialize fully."

As soon as the words left her lips, her body jerked violently. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple. Her limbs trembled, and then, with a gasp, blood began to seep from the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her wand slipped from her fingers as her knees buckled.

Hermione collapsed, unconscious.

And from her body, a mist emerged—black and oily like smoke, coalescing into form. Within seconds, it took shape: a teenage boy, handsome and sinister, with black eyes that shimmered with cruelty. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, his posture elegant, aristocratic. He bent down, retrieved Hermione's wand, and turned to Cael with a smirk.

He drew the wand through the air slowly, then conjured floating letters that spelled: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Behind Cael , Harry and Ron gasped.

Then the letters shifted.

I am Lord Voldemort.

Ron stumbled back. "It's him…"

Harry's voice trembled. "How—how did a mist come out of Hermione's body? Who are you? Why did you take her over?!"

Riddle—Voldemort—laughed softly. "I've been with her all year, Potter. That insufferable Mudblood resisted at first, but she gave in eventually. She served me well. Not willingly, of course—but effectively."

Harry clenched his fists. "You monster—Hermione would never help you!"

"Oh, she didn't help," Riddle said. "She executed. I influenced."

Cael stepped forward calmly. "So, Tom—what's this about? Why gather us here? What's your endgame?"

The boy's eyes darkened. "Don't call me that name."

Cael tilted his head. "Why not? Your soul still clings to it. You can call yourself Voldemort or Serpent King or Lord Misty Face—but in the end, you're still Tom. Still the scared little orphan named after a Muggle father who abandoned him."

Riddle's face contorted with rage.

"You dare—"

"I do," Cael said simply. "Because no matter how much power you steal, you're still a shadow of a boy who never belonged."

The rage in Voldemort's face ebbed slightly, replaced by a calculating look.

"I've watched you, Cael," he said slowly. "I know your disdain for bloodlines, your hidden strength. You're not so different from me. Abandoned. Alone. Talented. Dangerous."

"So what then?" Cael asked, unimpressed. "You want to recruit me? Offer me a shiny ring and a lifetime of kneeling at your feet?"

Voldemort burst out laughing. "Oh no, Cael. You vastly overestimate yourself. You're not worthy of joining me. Perhaps, if you begged… if you kissed my feet, I might make you a servant."

Cael's lip twitched. "How flattering."

"But you're curious, aren't you?" Voldemort continued, pacing now. "Why attack a pureblood like Malfoy first? Why not start with the Mudbloods?"

Cael raised an eyebrow. "A good question."

Riddle smirked. "It was Hermione's anger. That little boy called her 'Mudblood'—the hatred festered. I merely gave it direction."

"Liar!" Harry shouted. "Hermione would never—!"

"She thought it," Riddle said. "She's not as pure as you believe."

Cael cut in. "So what now? Purge Hogwarts? Cleanse the school like your future self?"

"Hardly," Voldemort said. "That idiot—you know, him—he was obsessed with bloodlines. I have no such illusions. My goal is simple: I will steal the magic of students, of professors, and build myself a body worthy of immortality. A true vessel. Strong enough to challenge even your precious Dumbledore."

"You're a leech," Cael said sneered . "You exist only to feed off others. A parasite born from the seduction of a Muggle, abandoned, and twisted by hate. You never had a right to live."

Voldemort's face twisted in fury. "How do you know that?! Dumbledore told you?! Of course he did. That sanctimonious fool!"

He took a deep breath, then sneered. "Enough. Draw your wand, Cael. Let's see if you're as formidable as you pretend. I'm not bound by that muddblood's limitations anymore. I will crush you."

Cael's fingers curled around his wand. "It would be an honor to duel the so-called Dark Lord."

He turned briefly to Harry and Ron. "Take Hermione. And the Ginny. Get them out of here."

"I want to fight too," Harry said quickly.

But Riddle laughed. "Please, Potter. This is a sacred duel. Do not embarrass Mr. Cael Vale. Or are you saying he has no honor?"

Cael smiled. "Harry. Not now. What matters is getting Hermione to safety."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded and moved to Hermione's side.

Cael turned to face his enemy. "All right then… Tom. Let's dance."

Voldemort raised his wand, eyes glittering with anticipation.

"Don't call me Tom."