Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

Defense Against the Dark Arts Class 

Ceal sat at his usual desk near the back of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, arms crossed, eyes half-open. The room smelled faintly of old Garlic and Dead animal rotten flesh , and Professor Quirrell stood awkwardly at the front, nervously adjusting his turban for the tenth time that morning.

Quirrell's voice trembled like the castle walls in winter storms.

"T-Today, w-we will be c-covering defensive spells against c-c-common creatures of the d-dark…"

He fumbled with his wand, knocking over a pile of books before catching them mid-fall. The class exchanged glances, a few muffled laughs breaking out, but Quirrell ignored them, clutching his wand tighter as though it might bolt away.

Despite his stutter, his lessons were surprisingly thorough. He taught them about Hinky-Punks and Red Caps, how to recognize them, and what spells worked best to fend them off. He demonstrated spells with shaking hands, the magic still solid despite the nerves.

Ceal listened with mild interest, noting the incantations, but his mind wandered, already thinking of the lake outside. The class dragged on, with Quirrell stumbling through explanations but making sure everyone practiced their counter-curses properly.

⸻

By the Lake - Later That Day

The warm afternoon sun filtered through the giant beech tree beside the Black Lake. Ceal lay stretched on the grass beneath it, eyes closed, arms behind his head. The rippling water lapped softly in the distance, the occasional chatter of students fading into the background. This was his place—quiet, away from everyone.

He was just drifting into sleep when a shadow passed over his face.

"You always sleep out here?" came a familiar voice.

Ceal opened one eye. Cassandra stood nearby, arms folded, that usual sharp glint in her gaze but no real hostility behind it.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Better than the common room. No one talks your ears off out here."

She smirked and sat down beside him, plucking a blade of grass. For a moment, they sat in easy silence, the sound of the lake filling the space between them.

Cael leaned back against the tree, glancing at her with a faint smirk.

"You're comfortable sitting here with me? A Gryffindor?" he asked, raising a brow. "You do realize if they see you with me, they'll probably start causing trouble for you, right?"

She only laughed softly, unfazed.

"They wouldn't dare," she said with quiet confidence. "And for the record, not every Slytherin is as evil as you Gryffindors like to believe. Sure, there's a handful with… extreme ideas, but most of us? We're just normal students. Some don't even care about house nonsense."

Then she spoke again, casually, "You heard about those three Slytherin boys? The ones who got hexed real bad at the Great Hall?"

Ceal's eyes stayed shut, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. Heard they were blubbering all the way to the hospital wing."

Cassandra leaned in slightly, voice lower now, playful but edged with curiosity.

"I think you did it," she said simply.

Ceal cracked a small, knowing smile but didn't deny it. His eyes finally opened, meeting hers with calm defiance.

"Think what you want," he replied, stretching his arms behind his head again. "Doesn't mean you're wrong."

She chuckled, shaking her head, brushing stray hair from her face as they both sat quietly, watching the sunlight ripple across the water.

Cassandra twirled the blade of grass between her fingers, eyeing Ceal with that same half-amused, half-curious look. The lake glittered in the distance, and students' voices were faint, distant, forgotten.

"So," she began, plucking at the grass, "the three little Slytherins couldn't even walk straight when they were dragged by prefects to the Hospital Wing." She tilted her head slightly, watching his face. "Broken noses, hex burns, one of them couldn't stop hiccupping slugs. Nasty stuff."

Ceal stayed quiet, gazing up at the tree branches swaying overhead. His lips curled just slightly, not enough to confirm anything, but enough to annoy her.

"I know it was you," Cassandra pressed, nudging his shoe with hers.

"You don't know anything… not about the kind of harassment they've done to younger students here at Hogwarts—right under the professors' noses," Cael replied evenly, his tone calm, almost lazy. He didn't even bother opening his eyes at first. But when he finally did, there was a quiet sharpness beneath the surface, a glint of something dangerous in the blue of his eyes.

Cassandra laughed under her breath. "Come on, Ceal. Everyone knows what happened to you last year. You think people forget? And now, first week back, Slytherin end up hexed into the dirt?" She arched an eyebrow. "Not much of a coincidence."

He shrugged, watching a bird swoop low over the lake. "People trip and fall. Sometimes they get cursed. Sometimes they deserve it."

Her smile grew wider, but there was no real accusation in it. Just curiosity—and maybe a little respect.

"I didn't say I minded," Cassandra added lightly. "They were idiots, always mouthing off like they own the castle." She leaned back against the tree beside him, eyes on the water. "Just funny watching them eat grass for a change."

Ceal finally smiled, small but real this time.

"Funny, yeah," he agreed quietly. "Hope they learned something."

"Probably not," Cassandra muttered, plucking another blade of grass. She let the silence hang for a moment before glancing sideways at him. "Next time, though…if you plan something that good, maybe let me watch."

Ceal chuckled softly, closing his eyes again as the sun warmed his face.

"Maybe."