Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The street outside Flourish and Blotts was still packed, even as the day began to settle into evening. Cael stepped out of the bookstore, waving goodbye to the owner, his arms full of small treats he'd bought for himself with the day's pay — sweet pastries wrapped in wax paper, still warm.

The buzz of the crowd hit him at once. Voices overlapping, the hum of conversation twisting into something sharper — tense, unsettled.

Curious, Cael followed the noise, pushing his way through clusters of people gathering in a loose circle along the street.

When he broke through the crowd, he saw them — the familiar family standing at the center. The familiar young girl with wild brown curls, her face pale but stubbornly defiant. Her parents flanked her, both dressed in plain, unmistakably Muggle clothes.

And in front of them… a wizard. Middle-aged, robes stained and crooked, clearly drunk. His wand-hand waved carelessly as his words spat into the air like venom.

"You mudblood scum," the drunk wizard snarled, swaying on his feet. "You don't belong here. You or your filthy Muggle parents… this world isn't for your kind. Go back to your backward, pathetic little world—"

The girl, Hermione, squared her shoulders, voice shaking but brave. "What the heck are you talking about? We haven't done anything—"

Her father stepped protectively in front of her, his voice calm but firm. "Sir, we don't want trouble. We were just passing by. You don't need to insult us — that's low, even for you."

The crowd murmured. Some turned away, pretending not to hear. Others watched, whispering, but no one stepped forward.

The drunk's expression twisted with rage. "Low?" he slurred, his voice cracking. "Did you call me lowblood? You— you're the mudbloods. You dare—?"

Before anyone could stop him, his wand was up, his mouth forming the start of a spell.

Hermione's mother gasped. Hermione shrieked in fear.

But Cael was already moving.

"Expelliarmus!" His voice cut sharp through the noise.

A flash of red light shot from Cael's wand, striking the drunk's hand. The wand flew through the air, clattering to the ground several feet away.

Before the wizard could react, Cael raised his wand again. "Stupefy. Imobulus!"

Twin spells hit their mark.

The drunk wizard froze mid-step, his limbs locking in place, expression still contorted in rage but his body completely still.

The crowd erupted — gasps, murmurs, scattered applause — but Cael barely heard them. He strode forward, picking up the drunk's wand, his eyes scanning the faces around him.

"Funny," Cael's voice carried across the crowd, calm but laced with disdain. "Fifty-one of you here — I counted. Fifty-one wands. And not one of you had the guts to help."

His words hung in the air. Some looked away, faces flushed with shame. Others scoffed quietly and slipped back into the crowd. One by one, they drifted off, pretending nothing had happened at all.

The street quieted again.

Hermione's father let out a slow breath, his posture relaxing now that the threat was gone. Hermione clung to her mother, still pale, her books and belongings scattered across the cobbled street.

Cael knelt, gathering the books and parchments, handing them back to the family.

"What happened?" he asked simply, glancing between them.

Hermione's mother, still shaken, explained softly. "We were just walking… that man pulled Hermione, made her fall. When we confronted him, he started shouting. Those words…" Her voice trailed off, tight with frustration and fear.

Cael nodded, handing the last of the books to Hermione's father. "Come on. I'll walk you out of Diagon Alley."

They walked together, the crowd parting, still whispering but keeping their distance. Hermione's father spoke quietly as they neared the Leaky Cauldron. "Thank you… If you hadn't stepped in—"

Cael shrugged, his tone casual but sincere. "It was the right thing to do. Besides… she'll be my classmate next term." He glanced at Hermione with a small, reassuring smile. "Can't have my juniors getting hexed before school even starts."

Hermione's father smiled, the tension easing from his features. "You're a good boy. Thank you."

As they reached the Leaky Cauldron's entrance, Hermione finally broke her silence, her eyes wide with worry and curiosity. "What… what did he mean? Mudblood? Why was he so— so awful?"

Cael exhaled, choosing his words carefully. "Every world has people like him. Racists, bigots… same in the Muggle world. You've heard about that, right? Discrimination… against Black people, Asians, Arabs… doesn't matter where you are."

She nodded slowly, eyes still wide.

"As for 'Muggle' — that just means ordinary. People without magic. 'Muggle-born' means a witch or wizard with Muggle parents. Like you."

Hermione frowned, processing. "And that other word… Mudblood?"

Cael's expression darkened slightly. "It's a slur. Like the worst words some people use for others. An insult — full of hate."

Hermione's mother stiffened. "I don't know if we want to send our daughter somewhere that tolerates that kind of thing."

Her father agreed quietly, concern flickering across his face.

Cael shook his head. "You don't need to worry. Hogwarts is safe. It's probably the safest place in the world for young witches and wizards. Albus Dumbledore runs the school — he's one of the most powerful wizards alive. No one's going to hurt your daughter there."

At least, Cael thought grimly, With the Admission of our dear "the boy who lived" it will be quite the opposite .

Hermione's parents exchanged a glance, still uncertain but willing to listen.

Hermione looked at Cael, her voice quieter now. "Thank you… for helping."

Cael gave her a small, crooked smile. "No problem. See you at school."

With that, he watched them disappear through the Leaky Cauldron, out into the Muggle world.

The street behind him buzzed to life again.

Cael pocketed the drunk's wand, turned on his heel, and headed back to his room.

A long, hot shower later, he collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion pulling him under.

The year ahead was going to be… interesting.

 A couple of days later 

The cobbled street outside hummed with life. Witches and wizards bustled in and out of shops, their voices blending with the clatter of footsteps and the rustle of robes. But inside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, everything felt calm, cool, and sweet — like stepping into another world filled with sugar, spells, and the faintest scent of vanilla.

By the window, sunlight poured in, glinting off the glass table and catching the silver bracelet that sparkled on Cassandra Vole's wrist.

Cael sat across from her, spoon in hand, already halfway through a towering sundae piled with chocolate, caramel, and enchanted sprinkles that shimmered faintly under the light — all courtesy of Cassandra, of course.

"You eat like you haven't seen food in weeks," Cassandra remarked, twirling her spoon through a delicate bowl of lavender-blue ice cream that glowed softly, like it held pieces of the sky inside it.

Cael smirked, licking chocolate off his thumb. "Not all of us have vaults of Galleons and house-elves bringing breakfast on silver trays."

Cassandra tilted her head, her smirk matching his. "Fair enough."

They ate in silence for a while, watching the world outside the window. It was the same Diagon Alley as always — crowded, noisy, bursting with magic .

"What do you think this year will be like?" Cael asked, stirring the melted remains of his sundae.

Cassandra shrugged, her eyes drifting to the window. "Different. Especially with him coming."

Cael leaned forward, lowering his voice even though no one nearby seemed to care. "You mean Harry Potter?"

"Of course." She played with her spoon 

again . 

 He asked . "You ever seen him? One of those parties your family gets dragged to? Or a Pureblood gathering? A ball? I've seen nearly everyone buy their books from the shop, but never saw him… or Professor James Potter To buy the School supplies "

Cassandra shook her head, her golden hair brushing her shoulders. "No one's seen him. He's like a ghost story. 'The Boy Who Lived,' hidden away all these years. The old families don't talk about him, at least not openly. He's a mystery."

Her eyes narrowed, thoughts ticking away behind them. "The only family with real ties to the Potters are the Greengrasses. Everyone knows that."

Cael arched a brow. "Why them? What's so special about the Greengrasses that they've got a connection to Harry Potter?"

Cassandra's spoon clinked against the side of her bowl as she answered simply, "Marriage. That's the connection."

Cael's mind raced. Marriage? His thoughts jumped to the familiar names. Maybe Daphne Greengrass… or Astoria? He played it cool and asked, "So, who exactly married into the Potters?"

Cassandra's answer caught him off guard.

"Obviously, Lord Greengrass's younger sister is married to James Potter," she said smoothly, like it was common knowledge. "Still shocks half the wizarding world. His first wife was barely a year gone… and suddenly he marries into the Greengrass family? The gossip hasn't stopped since."

Cael blinked and shocked yet again , keeping his expression steady even as his thoughts reeled. Another inconsistency, he mused silently. A big one.

The familiar voice of the System chimed quietly in his mind, full of snark: "What did you expect? The man was twenty-one. You all think he should've mourned forever?"

Cael pushed the thought aside, focusing back on Cassandra.

"Shocks me too," he muttered, finishing the last of his sundae. "A Greengrass married into the Potters… That's like mixing fire and poison."

"Depends who you think is the fire," Cassandra replied with a sly smile.

They shared a look — one layered with the unspoken rules of Pureblood society. Alliances, rivalries, grudges older than they were.

Cael leaned back in his chair, arms crossing. "I wonder what Harry Potter's like… growing up with two families like that."

"Still," Cassandra added, voice thoughtful now, "no one's seen him. Not at a party, not even a photograph. For someone so famous, Harry Potter might as well not exist."

"Maybe that's the point," Cael said quietly, eyes glittering with curiosity. His lips curled into a half-smirk — the kind that meant trouble. "Maybe they're keeping him hidden. Preparing him."

"For what?" Cassandra asked, watching him carefully.

Cael only shrugged, the corners of his mouth still tilted upward.

"Guess we'll find out… at Hogwarts."