Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The Gryffindor Common Room – Late Night

The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting soft, flickering shadows across the common room walls. Everyone else had long gone to bed, but Harry Potter still sat by the window, lost in thought. His fists were clenched tight on his knees, his mind replaying the words from earlier—the words that one of those attackers had spat at him.

They'd mocked his mother.

It wasn't just anger burning in his chest—it was something deeper. Hurt. Frustration. The truth was, Harry barely knew her. He had her photos, stories his dad told, and whispered memories from others. But no warm hugs. No real memories. And tonight, some filthy little Death Eater wannabe dragged her name through the mud—and that stung more than any hex.

His jaw tightened as he stared out at the dark grounds of Hogwarts, silent promises swirling in his head.

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The Great Hall – The Next Morning

The morning calm shattered the moment students stepped into the Great Hall.

A crowd had gathered near the center, gasps and whispers filling the space like wildfire.

There, dumped in a heap on the cold stone floor, were three boys—cloaked in black, their faces bloodied and bruised. Thick ropes bound their arms and legs tight. Across their foreheads, glowing letters shimmered in bright red:

GUILTY.

Peeves the Poltergeist hovered above, cackling and swooping in circles.

"Look what we've got here!" Peeves crowed gleefully. "Snake pit rejects! Gift-wrapped for breakfast!"

The hall erupted in shocked murmurs.

"Who did that to them?" someone whispered from the Ravenclaw table.

"Did you see the message?" asked another.

A Hufflepuff boy muttered darkly, "Blood supremacists… serves them right."

"Bet it was Gryffindors," a girl from Ravenclaw guessed. "Only they'd be bold enough to pull this off."

"They got hexed to bits."

"Maybe it was the professors—finally cracking down," another student suggested.

At the Gryffindor table, Cael sat calmly among Fred, George, Lee Jordan, and the others. Their faces stayed neutral, their eyes fixed on the scene.

Fred leaned in, whispering, "You think they'll believe the professors did it?"

Lee smirked. "Let them. Those three have been terrorizing first-years for a week—now they're tasting their own medicine."

George snorted under his breath. "Best breakfast entertainment I've seen."

Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, tempers flared. Angry whispers rippled down the benches.

"Cowards hexed them in the dark."

"No one's safe if vigilantes are running Hogwarts."

"They humiliated pure-bloods—in our hall."

A sneering voice added, "We need to get these mudbloods out of here. Out of Britain."

The sound of sharp heels on stone cut through the noise. Professor McGonagall swept in, eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"Stand back—all of you!" she ordered, pushing through the crowd.

Snape arrived next, his expression thunderous, followed by Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and finally, Dumbledore himself. His long blue robes trailed behind him, face unreadable.

Snape knelt beside the unconscious boys, inspecting the ropes and glowing letters, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched.

Dumbledore's calm but firm voice carried through the hall. "Severus, get them to the hospital wing. Minerva, see that every student is accounted for. Filius, trace the magic—leave nothing unchecked. I want answers."

McGonagall's sharp eyes scanned the room. "Whoever's behind this will be found."

The whispers never stopped all day. Every class, every hallway buzzed with rumors.

"Older students—they say real duelers did it."

"Bet it was Hufflepuffs. They've had enough of the blood purists."

"No way. Hufflepuffs wouldn't hit that hard."

"Maybe the ghosts did it. The Bloody Baron's gone rogue."

"Nah, Peeves knows something—he always does."

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Gryffindor Common Room – Evening

By nightfall, the tower pulsed with nervous energy. Students clustered near the fire, whispering, theorizing.

Hermione paced, arms crossed. "People are treating this like some prank—but this… this is serious. People could've been killed!"

Cael sat by the window, his gaze was looking around , arms folded across his chest. His voice was quiet but steady. "They've been hexing first-years… cursing Muggle-borns for a week. If no one stands up, they'll just keep going. Their endgame is to expel every Muggle-born from this school—and from this country."

Harry frowned, fingers tracing the length of his wand. "Dumbledore won't let that happen. He's the reason we're safe."

Cael's eyes flickered. "For now. But how long do you think Dumbledore can protect everyone? You think he's untouchable? There are ways to get him out of Hogwarts. And when that happens… it'll be too late."

George shrugged, kicking his feet up on the table. "Dumbledore's the greatest wizard alive. He defeated Grindelwald. Even You-Know-Who's scared of him."

Fred grinned. "Exactly. They won't touch him."

Lee Jordan leaned in, voice low. "Yeah… no one's laying a hand on Dumbledore."

But Cael only thought to himself: You've no idea how wrong you are.

The quiet voice of the system echoed in Cael's mind—, factual when Dumbledore dies within a year… cursed by Voldemort's own Horcrux… by the hand of someone he trusted most than they won't say anything like this .

Hermione's voice broke the silence. "We can't fight hate with more hate."

But her words hung weak in the air. Reality was heavier than ideals tonight.

Cael's eyes stayed on her and said nothing to this naive girl who didn't know anything.

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