Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

As Tom Marvolo Riddle finished his serpentine incantation, a deep, grinding rumble echoed through the ancient chamber. Dust fell from the ceiling like rain. The great statue of Salazar Slytherin trembled as its mouth creaked open slowly, stone scraping against stone in a haunting groan.

From the darkness within… something stirred.

And then—it emerged.

A vast, coiling horror.

The Basilisk.

Its emerald scales shimmered with unnatural sheen, and its yellow eyes, twin pools of death, glowed with ancient malice. The creature slithered out with a thunderous hiss, its body long enough to loop around the entire chamber twice.

Cael acted in an instant.

"Disillusionment!" he whispered, vanishing into a shimmer of near-invisibility.

"Silencio!" followed next—to muffle any accidental sound.

Then a third spell, a spell , to suppress scent—his own magical aroma masked, made odorless .

He was a ghost in the chamber, unseen, unheard, unsmelled.

Riddle's laughter cut through the darkness.

"Clever," he hissed. "But also—stupid. Did you really think I'd sit idle while you played hide-and-seek?"

But Cael was already casting.

"Piertotum Locomotor!" he shouted, magic flaring violently from his wand.

Ten massive statues, conjured from broken pillars and cracked stone—knights in full armor with towering swords—rose from the ground like titans. The chamber shuddered under their weight.

With a silent command from Cael, the knights charged the Basilisk.

Steel clashed with scale. The serpent hissed and lunged, coiling its body around one of the statues and crushing it to rubble. Another knight's blade sliced across its hide, drawing thick, steaming blood. One was decapitated by the serpent's lashing tail, but others stabbed deep into its body.

The battle of stone and fang erupted into chaos.

And then—from above—came a beautiful, piercing cry.

A crimson bird descended like a comet.

Fawkes.

The phoenix circled the chamber, streaking golden feathers through the air, then dove at the Basilisk. Its talons raked across the creature's face, blinding it. The Basilisk screamed, jaws snapping, and the statues pressed forward again.

Riddle's face twisted in disdain. "So… this is Dumbledore's great help? A bird? He grows old and senile if he thinks this will stop me!"

But then—another voice rang out.

"No," it declared, clear and proud. "He's still the greatest wizard alive!"

Riddle turned—just in time to see Harry Potter stepping forward from the shadows, the Sorting Hat on his head and a gleaming sword in his hand—the Sword of Godric Gryffindor.

Cael's eyes lit with understanding. "Harry! Use the sword—strike now! I'll keep Riddle busy. Finish the serpent!"

Harry nodded and broke into a sprint, the sword glinting with every step.

Cael turned, wand raised again.

"Protego Maxima!"

A barrier flared between Harry and Riddle as the latter tried to cast. Riddle growled in frustration, turning toward Cael.

"You don't get to play hero," Riddle sneered. "The Basilisk is mine. You'll die knowing it."

But Cael's attention was shifting. In the chaos, his eyes locked onto something—something vital.

There, half-buried in Hermione's satchel—the black diary.

Riddle's anchor. His soul. His weakness.

Cael's eyes narrowed. Of course he didn't guard it. His arrogance blinded him.

He dashed for it.

Riddle saw too late.

"No—NO!"

"Confringo!" Riddle roared, firing a curse toward the satchel.

But Cael dived, rolled, and snatched the diary just before the spell hit. It exploded behind him, scorching the stone.

As he stood, clutching the diary, Riddle's face drained of color.

"I know what this is," Cael said coldly, breathless. "This is all you are."

Meanwhile, across the chamber, Harry fought the Basilisk with everything he had. Fawkes darted around its snapping jaws, the stone knights kept it flanked. The serpent writhed in pain, blood pouring from its eyes.

Then the Sorting Hat whispered in Harry's mind:

"Now. Let them hold it down. You must strike."

Harry ran, then leapt.

The Basilisk opened its maw to consume him whole—

—and Harry drove the Sword of Gryffindor straight into its mouth.

The blade plunged deep, bursting through the back of the skull. Simultaneously, the remaining knight-statues stabbed their stone swords forward, anchoring it in place.

The Basilisk screamed one last time, its body twisting in agony—

Then it slumped.

Dead.

The entire chamber shook with the impact of its fall.

Cael looked over and saw the serpent collapse.

"Well done, Harry!" he shouted across the chamber.

Riddle stared in horror.

"No… no…"

Cael raised his wand once more. "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand flew from Riddle's hand and Cael caught it midair.

Riddle was disarmed as he was distracted by the Death of the basilisk so let his guard down for Cael to disarm him.

And Cael shouted to Harry " bring me the sword Harry. "

Harry stumbled over, dragging the sword. "Cael—the sword !"

Cael nodded and took the blade, its tip still dripping with the Basilisk's deadly poison. He knelt, placed the diary on the stone floor…

…and plunged the sword straight through it.

The diary pulsed.

Then shrieked.

A violent wind erupted from it. Black ink exploded upward like a geyser. Riddle staggered back, clutching his chest, eyes wide with horror.

"No! NO!" he screamed.

His form began to flicker, unraveling. Light burst from his torso—his arms—his face.

"You think this ends me?" he howled, staring at Cael. "Another self will rise… I will return… I will remember you!"

And then, with a final scream, Tom Marvolo Riddle exploded into a cloud of glowing ash—his soul scattered, torn from its anchor.

Silence followed.

A long, heavy silence.

Harry collapsed, panting, knees scraping against stone.

Cael sat down beside him, cradling an injured arm, bloodied but breathing.

Harry looked over and whispered, "Is it… is it done?"

Cael nodded slowly. "Yes… we did it. It's over."

They sat there, surrounded by shattered stone, burning torches, the dead Basilisk… and the shattered remnants of a once-great evil.