Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

In the weeks that followed the gathering at Malfoy Manor, quiet but clear signs of change began to ripple through the British wizarding world.

At first, it was almost invisible — small shifts, noticed only by those who understood how power worked behind closed doors.

Shops in Diagon Alley quietly changed their policies. A new phrase spread in whispers: "Private Hiring Discretion." It meant that Muggle-borns suddenly found doors shut in their faces. Apprenticeships vanished, job offers never came, interviews were delayed again and again.

At first, the Ministry of Magic called these rumors nothing but isolated events. But as time passed, the pattern grew impossible to deny.

In Knockturn Alley, the old guard — blood purists, dark artifact traders, and families with dangerous beliefs — grew bold. The back rooms of Borgin & Burkes buzzed with their voices. Their words were sharper now, their plans clearer.

And attacks on Muggle-borns became more frequent. Some were targeted on the streets. Others lost their shops. The message was simple: they weren't welcome.

But not everyone looked the other way.

The first cracks appeared inside the Ministry itself.

Private memos began to leak — carefully written proposals suggesting new limits on Muggle-borns using magic outside their homes. The debates in the Wizengamot that followed were cold and tense, filled with quiet threats and hidden alliances.

For Muggle-born students finishing school, things were worse than ever. Finding a job had always been hard, but now it was nearly impossible. Pure-bloods always came first, followed by half-bloods. If anyone dared to hire a Muggle-born, it was for lower wages and unfair treatment.

Most Aurors simply looked away when Muggle-borns were mistreated — and if a Muggle-born made even the smallest mistake, they faced harsh punishment. The Ministry's records filled with so-called "Muggle-born criminals." But in truth, many were innocent, arrested for nothing but prejudice and greed.

The courts were no better. Judges handed out punishments without hearing the full story. Fines, prison, and in the worst cases, stripping someone of their magic entirely.

And in the middle of it all stood Albus Dumbledore.

To some, he was an old man clinging to a world that no longer existed. To others, he was the last shield standing between quiet oppression and open cruelty. His place at Hogwarts, and his role as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, made him a target — but removing him was not so simple.

The pure-blood supremacists were careful. They didn't attack Dumbledore openly. They chipped away at him with whispers. They cut funding to Hogwarts programs. They launched quiet investigations into his leadership. They pushed the Board of Governors to doubt him.

And in the shadows, they planted the next generation of their beliefs.

Old families whispered to their sons and daughters — heirs of Rosier, Flint, Nott — teaching them the same lessons their ancestors believed.

"Protect the bloodline. Defend our traditions. Never let a Mudblood dishonor you. Never let them fight back without a price."

But not every family followed.

Some stayed neutral — the Ollivanders, the Shacklebolts, the Slughorns, the Macmillans, the Prewetts, the Crouches, the Abbotts — cautious, watching from the sidelines.

The House of Greengrass was neutral too, but strained. Their old ties to the Potters and their investments overseas made them cautious. But even so, all eyes were on them at every gathering, waiting to see where they would stand.

Lord Vole, always the strategist, strengthened his family's trade. Rare plants to the Americas, potion ingredients to Asia — building walls of gold and allies beyond Britain's borders to protect his house from the storm.

But resistance simmered.

In Hogsmeade, there were whispers of secret groups forming — half-bloods, Muggle-borns, even a few pure-bloods who refused to stand by. Some called it foolish rebellion. Others called it survival.

And in the shadows of London, the attacks grew worse.

A Muggle-born shopkeeper woke to find their shop windows smashed, hateful slurs carved into the glass.

A half-blood Auror reported that their equipment had been tampered with — missions set to fail, lives put at risk.

A Muggle-born Auror was fired for stopping a fight where a pure-blood had beaten a Muggle-born child over a false accusation of theft. The message was clear — help your own kind, and you'll pay the price.

Beyond Britain's borders, the world was watching.

The International Confederation of Wizards grew uneasy. Trade talks became strained. Foreign newspapers ran bold headlines:

"British Pure-Blood Supremacy Rising?"

Inside Britain, the Daily Prophet fed the fire. Page after page painted Muggle-borns as criminals, thieves, dangers to society. Propaganda filled the news, twisting the truth, turning ordinary witches and wizards against their neighbors.

But cracks remained.

The quiet rustle of parchment filled the Leaky Cauldron's common room as Cael turned the pages of the Daily Prophet. His breakfast sat forgotten, steam rising from his tea as his eyes moved over the front page.

"Muggle-Born Crime Wave — Ministry Warns of Growing Danger"

"Muggel Wizard Gangs Blamed for Recent Attacks, Sources Say"

"Pure-Blood Families Urged to Stay Alert"

Cael's eyebrows pulled together as he read. Each article twisted the truth, making Muggle-borns — or Muddblood , as the old families called them now — look like criminals, troublemakers, even threats to the wizarding world.

It didn't add up.

He flipped more pages — photos of broken shop windows, staged pictures of Aurors standing by fake "evidence," and loud opinion pieces calling for "bloodline protection" filled the paper.

Cael's chest tightened. His head spun with confusion.

"This isn't right," he muttered under his breath.

He lowered the paper, his voice quiet so no one nearby could hear. A soft blue light appeared in the corner of his vision — his system was ready.

"System… what's going on? This isn't how I remember it."

The system replied in its usual calm tone:

"Please be specific, Host."

Cael frowned, holding up the newspaper. "All this—the hate, the lies, pure-bloods pushing their power—it wasn't like this. At least, not this soon."

He let out a long breath, his thoughts racing. "Back in my old life… this kind of thing happened later. After Voldemort came back, after Dumbledore died. But now… I'm here, and everything's already happening. Muggle-borns are being attacked. They can't find jobs. The Ministry isn't even trying to hide their bias."

He rubbed the back of his neck, a heavy feeling growing in his chest. "The books, the movies… sure, they showed things getting bad, but not like this. Not so fast. It's like the bad guys jumped ahead a few years."

The system's soft glow flickered..

"You already know this is the real world, where anything can happen — even your existence here isn't supposed to be possible. So there are bound to be inconsistencies with the knowledge you have from the future."

Cael's jaw clenched.

Unknown factors.

He was one of them, of course. This wasn't the story he knew. The wizarding world was spinning out of control, and the real fight hadn't even started yet.

His eyes drifted back to the bold headlines:

"Muggel Threat Must Be Stopped."

Cael's stomach sank. Everything was changing. And not for the better.