Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

Gryffindor Common Room – Later That Evening

The Gryffindor Common Room buzzed with uneasy whispers by the time Cael pushed through the portrait hole, Hermione's books tucked under his arm.

The news had already started to spread.

Heads turned the moment he entered. First-years huddled near the fireplace, whispering urgently, while older students glanced over with wary, questioning looks.

Neville sat on the edge of an armchair, wringing his hands, pale-faced. His eyes widened when he saw Cael.

"Is… is it true?" Neville's voice cracked. "Hermione… they said… they said someone attacked her."

Cael's jaw tightened as he walked further into the room. He set Hermione's books gently on a nearby table.

The room quieted as students gathered around him, their faces anxious.

"What happened to Hermione?" Katie Bell asked, her brow furrowed.

"Did you really find her outside?" someone else whispered.

"Was it Slytherins?" Dean Thomas spoke up, crossing his arms. "Everyone's saying it was them."

Questions came all at once.

"Was she cursed?"

"Who did it?"

"Did you see their faces?"

"Is she okay?"

Cael's expression remained calm, but there was a sharpness behind his blue eyes as he answered, his voice low but clear.

"She's alright now," he began, glancing across the room. "I found her near the treeline, outside the castle. Looked like they hexed her badly and left her there."

The room rippled with gasps and angry mutters.

"Who would do something like that?" Neville's voice was faint, filled with guilt and fear.

Cael's stare darkened. "Take a wild guess."

The name didn't need to be spoken aloud. Everyone's minds went to the same place—Slytherin House, the older students with cruel smiles and sharper wands.

The atmosphere shifted—rage simmered just beneath the surface.

Before more could be asked, two familiar figures pushed through the crowd—Fred and George Weasley, their faces unusually serious. Lee Jordan trailed behind them, his expression tight.

The questions kept coming from every corner of the room, students crowding closer, their faces tense and pale.

"She's going to be alright," Cael repeated for what felt like the fifth time. His jaw was tight, his blue eyes unreadable, but his voice stayed calm. "She's in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey's with her."

A wave of whispers followed, students trading fearful looks.

Before Cael could speak again, an unmistakable voice cut through the tension.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Percy Weasley's voice rang out, sharp and pompous, as he stepped forward from the crowd, straightening his prefect badge with deliberate precision. "We don't know the full story."

Cael's eyes narrowed, his posture shifting slightly as Percy continued.

"Maybe," Percy said carefully, "Hermione… well, maybe she did something foolish. Or provoked someone she shouldn't have , as you already familiar with her , she always intervene in people's matters a lot without anyone asking her . These things… escalate."

The room fell into uncomfortable silence.

Neville shrank into his seat. Ron's mouth fell open. Fred and George exchanged a look, their faces darkening.

Cael's expression stayed flat, but a dangerous stillness settled over him.

"Are you saying," Cael began slowly, his voice low, "that it's her fault she got hexed and left unconscious outside the castle?"

Percy huffed, pushing his glasses up. "I'm saying… there are rules. We all have to follow them. Maybe she overstepped. It happens. We can't go around blaming entire Houses every time someone gets hexed—"

"She's eleven." Cael's voice sliced through Percy's words. His blue eyes were sharp, cold. "She was hexed, cursed, and dumped like rubbish outside. And your first thought is to blame her?"

Percy flushed, standing straighter, his tone turning defensive. "I'm saying we need to be reasonable. You can't run around making accusations—it's dangerous. We have rules for a reason."

"Rules," Cael repeated, his mouth curling into a bitter smile. "Right. Because rules stop cowards from hexing first-years in the dark."

The common room had gone dead silent now. Ron looked stunned. Fred and George were watching with interest, neither stepping in yet.

Percy's expression tightened. "Watch your tone, Vale. You're new here—you don't understand how things work—"

Before he could finish, Cael stepped forward, his calm exterior cracking just enough for the anger underneath to show.

"How things work?" Cael snapped. "You walk around flashing that prefect badge, pretending to protect this House—but when someone actually needs defending, you blame the victim and hide behind your 'rules.'"

Percy's face darkened. "I'm trying to keep order—"

"You're trying to keep your image clean," Cael shot back. "You care more about looking good than protecting your own. Hermione's lying in a hospital bed, and you're worried about rules?"

Fred muttered under his breath, "Merlin…"

"Well, it doesn't matter now — what's done is done. Let's leave it to the professors to find whoever's responsible. What we don't need is you encouraging the entire House to pick a fight with another one. Because, like it or not, that's exactly what you're doing."

Before anyone could react, Cael's fist connected with Percy's jaw—a sharp, clean punch that sent the older boy stumbling backward into an armchair.

Gasps echoed across the room.

Ron's eyes went wide. Fred and George both grinned, not even trying to hide it.

Percy clutched his jaw, his expression a mix of shock and fury. "You—!"

Cael stood over him, voice ice-cold. "You can memorize every rule in the book, Weasley. But when your own housemates are bleeding, when your friends are getting hexed by cowards in the dark, your perfect little badge doesn't mean sh*t."

The common room buzzed with whispers again, eyes bouncing between Cael and Percy.

Fred finally stepped in, clapping a hand on Cael's shoulder. "Easy now, mate," he muttered, though the approval in his voice was impossible to miss.

George nodded. "First punch landed well though—props for that."

Percy scowled, straightening his robes, his pride clearly wounded more than his jaw. "You'll regret that."

"Maybe," Cael shrugged, his expression cool. "But at least I won't regret doing nothing."

With that, he turned away, the crowd parting as he walked back toward the fireplace. His hands were steady now, the burning frustration in his chest slightly eased by action.

Fred and George followed, exchanging glances.

" That was sick bro , since I was young I wanted to do this to him ," Fred smirked.

"Yeah this time he went to far ," George added under his breath, casting a pointed look toward Percy, who still sat scowling by the armchair.

Ron trailed after them, still looking half-shocked, half-impressed.

"Oi, Cael ," Fred called, motioning him over. "Let's go ."

Cael followed them toward the Dorm, away from the cluster of wide-eyed first-years and whispering students.

The twins and Lee waited until they were out of earshot before Fred leaned in, his playful grin gone, replaced with something colder.

"Tell us everything," George demanded, voice low but sharp. "No watered-down version."

Lee crossed his arms. "What happened, exactly? You found her like that?"

Cael's gaze sharpened, but he nodded. "Yeah. I was coming back from Hagrid's, near the treeline. Heard her groaning… saw her collapsed there."

Fred swore under his breath. "Bastards."

"Bat-Bogey Hex was still hanging around her," Cael continued, his voice steady but laced with quiet fury. "But there was more than that—something darker. Whoever did it didn't stop with a prank hex."

The three exchanged grim looks.

"We've seen those pure-blood supremacist lot getting bolder," George muttered. "But attacking first-years… that's low, even for them."

Lee's jaw tightened. "She's what? Eleven? Who the hell does that to a kid?"

Fred's eyes darkened, his usual spark of mischief replaced with focused anger. "Slytherin's senior lot's been pushing boundaries lately. You can feel it—the way they look at the younger ones, especially Muggle-borns."

Cael's stare stayed locked on them, quiet but intense. "It's not just looks anymore."

The silence that followed was heavy.

George exhaled sharply. "You planning on doing something?"

Cael shrugged slightly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips, though his eyes remained cold. "Planning? No we should wait and see what Dumbledore does ."

Fred and George exchanged a look—the kind only twins understood.

Lee, however, caught on quickly. "But if he don't do anything or punish the culprits just not so severely than what ? … you wouldn't lose sleep over it."

"Than we will take matters to our own hands " Cael answered simply.

George chuckled darkly. "You've got the right attitude."

Fred clapped Cael on the shoulder. "You ever need backup, Cael , you come to us. We don't let our own get steamrolled."

Lee nodded in agreement. "Especially not by cowards hiding behind House colors."

The group fell quiet for and thinking , inside the dorm.

Cael's gaze drifted toward the window, the grounds outside now cloaked in darkness.