Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

Cael turned, eyes narrowing, heart thudding with the kind of dread that had long since stopped feeling unfamiliar. And yet, despite all he had seen, this startled him.

A woman stood behind him—tall, graceful, ageless. Her silver hair flowed over shoulders clad in elegant violet robes, and her expression was one of gentle amusement, as though she'd been watching him this entire time.

Cael blinked. Then sighed.

"Of course," he muttered, "of course there has to be a mysterious woman waiting here."

The woman chuckled, her voice lilting like a breeze through wind chimes. "You're taking it rather well, Cael. I expected a more dramatic reaction—terror, maybe awe… something richer."

He shrugged. "I'll admit, what I just saw is beyond imagining. But by now, I've seen enough that things like this don't surprise me… or scare me. Much."

She smiled, as if pleased. "Yes. That sounds like you."

He studied her more closely. "Who are you? How do you know me? And what do you mean, you were waiting for me?"

With an elegant flick of her hand, chairs and a polished marble table appeared in the middle of the flowered terrace. Upon it, platters of delicate desserts and steaming tea blinked into existence—not with a pop, but a graceful materialization, as if they'd always been there.

"Please," she said, gesturing toward a seat. "We have much to discuss. And I don't like talking while standing."

Cael hesitated, then slowly sat. His eyes flicked toward the food. "That… was that teleportation? Is it real?"

Another amused smile. "No, Cael. Not quite. When you live with magic long enough, such things come naturally. And yes," she added as he eyed the cakes suspiciously, "they're real. Try them."

He picked up a small slice of honey-glazed cake, bit into it—and paused. The taste was rich, layered, slightly floral. The sweetness lingered like sunlight on the tongue.

She waited until he'd finished before speaking again.

"I am Rose Amandalynia Dubois. Though you may call me Rose. I doubt that long surname would agree with your patience." Her eyes sparkled. "And yes—I am the fifth member of the High Council of Magic. I assume that fool Myrddin mentioned us?"

At the name Myrddin, her serene face darkened briefly.

Cael cocked his head. "What'd he do to deserve that look?"

Rose sighed. "He chased me for three centuries. Kept proposing."

Cael blinked. "Wait, then why didn't you… I mean, wasn't he powerful? Respected?"

She glared. "Do you expect me to marry a man who looked like a child for half his life?"

Cael quickly raised his hands. "Alright! Sorry—bad question. My bad."

She rolled her eyes but smirked. "Apology accepted."

He leaned forward now, curiosity gnawing at him. "How do you know my name? And how did you know I was coming?"

"I've known for a long time. I've been waiting for you, Cael. Waiting because fate—whether she likes it or not—permitted your arrival."

Cael frowned. "So… where am I exactly? Is this some magical dimension you built? Or a pocket realm? Because it was night when I came in and a summertime as well , and now it's… springtime."

Rose folded her hands in her lap, her tone gentle. "No, Cael. This isn't a dimension or illusion. You crossed a temporal threshold. The door you passed through is a time anchor. You're no longer in your time."

He stared at her, his chest tightening.

"What do you mean… not in my time?"

"You're in the past," she said. "Roughly two thousand five hundred years in the past. About five hundred years before your Christ is born."

Cael's hands trembled. His voice was quiet. "That far? But… how? I mean… time doesn't work like that. I've read about time-turners, and the Ministry of Magic… they only permit going back an hour, maybe two at most. There was even a case where a witch got stuck in the past and… died there."

"Yes," Rose said softly. "That's why you see no one else here. I had family here once. Friends. Apprentices. But I sent them away before you arrived. I couldn't risk you altering the past—or the past altering you."

Cael leaned back, exhaling. "But… why not change it? You know the civil war is coming. You could stop it."

Her gaze turned distant. "To tamper with time is to dance with eternity's shadow—each step risks unraveling the delicate threads of existence itself."

She looked back at him. "And besides… the end of the Council was always inevitable. Empires rise and fall. The Council ruled for centuries—too long, perhaps. Its destruction allowed magic to spread freely. To evolve. Your world may be chaotic, but every child now has the chance to become a wizard. That wasn't true in our time. Apprentices were rare. Masters chose only one or two in their lifetimes."

Cael was silent for a while.

Then he asked, "How are you speaking English?"

Rose smiled. "Because I perceive time. I've seen your future, your people, your language. For someone like me, language is simply memory rearranged."

"You can see time?" he asked.

"I am what your era would call a Timekeeper. I cannot manipulate time—not truly. I can peer into it. Read its echoes. At great cost, I can nudge it. But true manipulation… no. That would invite catastrophe."

Cael frowned. "So how did I get here, then? That door…?"

"It was built by a lost civilization—one Myrddin may have spoken of. A people whose magic ran deeper than ours, older than time as we know it. The castle aboveground, I built to hide and guard that door."

Cael's brow furrowed. "So… you knew I'd come. But you didn't stop me?"

"Because your arrival was allowed," she said. "Not by me—but by fate herself. I saw you in glimpses, but I did not bring you. That door responds only to one touched by that lost legacy. You carry their mark."

He looked away, unsettled. "Then… the castle. The one above the door. The one Muggles visit. That's your work?"

"Yes. It once had a different name. The Muggles changed it in time—rebuilt it, ruined it, renamed it. That part doesn't matter. What mattered was the door."

"And… where are we now?"

She smiled faintly. "In your era, this land will be known as Switzerland."

Cael's brows rose. "Huh. Still beautiful, after all this time."

Rose nodded. "Indeed. The door's entrance is in what will become France, but this place… this timeless sanctuary… lies far beyond."

He hesitated. "Then… if you can perceive the future and past , can you see the civilization that made the door? Can you see their magic?"

Her expression darkened. "No. Something blocks me. I've tried for centuries, but their past is veiled—sealed beyond even my reach. Their magic is not just old. It's alien."

Cael folded his arms, deep in thought. "Then… why didn't you use all that knowledge of future to help? You know how kingdoms fell. You could've stopped wars, cured plagues, taught science ahead of its time."

Rose's gaze met his, calm and unflinching. "Because I can't. Perceiving the future is not permission to change it. If I rewrite even one detail, I may unravel countless others. I am an observer, Cael—not a god. And those who tried to become one paid the price."