Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The morning sun filtered gently through the high windows of Hogwarts, gilding the marble staircases in warm gold. Students whispered in corridors, rumors flying like pixies about the events of the previous night. Some claimed the Basilisk had been real. Others said it was all just a prank gone horribly wrong. But one truth burned bright beneath it all—the attacks had stopped.

Harry stood alone outside the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, still in yesterday's robes, wrinkled and dirtied from the events beneath the castle. His scar throbbed faintly—not from pain, but memory.

"The password is still the same," came a voice behind him.

He turned and saw Professor McGonagall, arms crossed, giving him a rare, soft smile. "You've earned your place, Potter."

Harry nodded. "Lemon drop?"

The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing the spiral staircase. As Harry ascended, his stomach fluttered with nerves. The last time he'd seen this office, Dumbledore had been taken away. Now he didn't know what to expect.

The door was slightly ajar. He stepped inside.

And there, standing by the window, framed by the morning light, was Albus Dumbledore—robes sweeping the floor, half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, and his familiar twinkle of wisdom in his blue eyes.

Harry blinked. "Professor… you came back?"

Dumbledore turned, and his face warmed with a smile that reached through the centuries.

"Yes, my boy. Yes, I came back," he said gently. "Hogwarts is, and always will be, my home. And when she needs me—I will be here."

Relief flooded Harry's chest, followed by the sharp memory of everything that had happened. Dumbledore gestured to the chair across from his desk.

"Sit, Harry. I imagine you've seen far more than any twelve-year-old should."

Harry sat down. The chair creaked beneath him as he sank into it.

Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk and looked at him with deep intent.

"Tell me everything."

Harry did.

From the moment Hermione was possessed, to the deciphering of the diary, to Cael's duel with Riddle, the release of the Basilisk, the enchanted statues, Fawkes's arrival, the final battle, and the destruction of the diary itself. He spoke of how brave Cael had been—how he protected Hermione and battled Riddle head-on. How Ron had helped Ginny, and how Harry had driven the sword of Gryffindor through the serpent's skull.

Dumbledore listened silently throughout, only nodding now and then, eyes darkening at the mention of Unforgivable Curses and flickering with thought when Cael's talent in transfiguration magic was mentioned.

When Harry finished, the silence lingered.

Then Dumbledore said, "You and your friends have shown bravery greater than many full-grown witches and wizards. And Mr. Vale… he is proving to be someone of extraordinary potential."

Harry nodded. "He saved Hermione's life. If it wasn't for him, Riddle would have—"

He didn't finish the sentence.

Dumbledore rose and walked to Fawkes, who sat perched near the window. The phoenix trilled gently as the Headmaster stroked his feathered head.

"There is more to Cael Vale than meets the eye," Dumbledore murmured. "And perhaps… more than even he realizes."

Just then, the door burst open.

A figure in dark green robes strode in without knocking. His pale face was taut with anger, and behind him waddled a trembling Dobby, the house-elf, eyes wide and fearful.

"Ah," Dumbledore said calmly, "Lucius Malfoy. Do come in."

Lucius's lip curled. "So you're back, old man."

"Yes," Dumbledore said simply, returning to his seat. "And I believe we have some things to discuss."

"I demand to know why my son has not woken up since you said you will send the Mandrake's Potion to the St Mungo's Hospital ," Lucius began. "And why the school board has reinstated you without my knowledge."

Harry clenched his fists, but Dumbledore's voice was calm as still water.

"I believe you'll find, Lucius, that your influence on the school board is no longer quite as… persuasive as it once was."

Lucius sneered. "Are you accusing me of something?"

Dumbledore folded his hands. "Merely stating that I know exactly how Hermione Granger came into possession of that diary. A very… dangerous diary."

Lucius's eyes flickered, just for a moment.

"You're suggesting—"

"That the diary," Dumbledore interrupted, "was slipped into the books of a Thirteen-year-old girl. Not by chance. Not by accident. But with purpose. Malicious purpose."

Lucius's nostrils flared. "You have no proof."

"I don't need proof, Mr. Malfoy. Only truth."

Lucius stepped forward, his hand twitching toward his cane. Dobby gasped and tried to pull away, but Harry saw it—the slight, fearful look in the elf's eyes.

Dumbledore continued, voice low and unshakable. "I've already spoken with the board. Your seat has been… vacated, effective immediately."

"You—what?!"

"You may take your leave now," Dumbledore said, a hint of steel entering his voice. "And take your elf with you."

Lucius turned, teeth bared. "Come, Dobby!"

The elf flinched.

And that's when Harry had an idea.

He reached into his bag and quickly slid Tom Riddle's diary into an old sock from his robe pocket. He walked forward and held it out.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said innocently, "you forgot this."

Lucius snatched it from Harry's hand in disgust. "What—"

The sock slipped out.

Dobby caught it.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Master… gave Dobby a sock. Dobby is… free."

Lucius froze.

Harry stood his ground, his heart hammering.

"You lost him," he said evenly.

Lucius's face twisted with pure fury. "You'll pay for this, Potter—"

"Will I?" Harry said, matching his gaze. "I'm sure the school governors would love to hear more."

For a long moment, Lucius just stood there, fists trembling.

Then he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, his cloak flaring behind him.

Dobby stood still, the sock clutched to his chest, tears pooling in his large eyes.

"Harry Potter," he whispered, "has set Dobby free."

Harry smiled. "Just promise me something, Dobby."

"Anything, sir!"

"Never try to save my life by nearly getting me killed again."

Dobby blinked. "Of course, sir!"

The elf bowed so deeply he hit the floor, then popped away with a soft crack.

Dumbledore stood again and gave Harry a long look, one of quiet admiration.

"You are a remarkable young man, Harry. Today, you gave a friend his freedom… and this school its peace."

Harry shuffled awkwardly. "I just… did what needed to be done."

"That," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, "is precisely what makes you who you are."

As Harry turned to leave the office, the Sword of Gryffindor still strapped to his back, Dumbledore called out gently:

"One last thing, Harry."

He turned.

"The sword… only presents itself to those who are truly worthy. Never forget that."

Harry gave a small nod, his heart full.

Then he descended the spiral staircase into the light of a new day—one without fear, without voices in the walls, without secrets slithering through stone.