Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

In the shadowed chamber of Slytherin Lounge at the Court of Serpents Room , eight figures sat in a tight circle, faces veiled beneath dark hoods, black cloaks blending into the stone walls. Their identities , their presence all hidden. The Court had grown—now eight members strong, their ambition matched only by their secrecy.

One of them spoke first, voice low but sharp.

"Have we found out who was responsible for the incident a few weeks ago?"

A second figure scoffed under his hood.

"Everyone knows. The same old Gryffindor lot."

A taller figure leaned forward, his silhouette revealing the build of an upper-year student, likely sixth or seventh year. His tone dripped with arrogance.

"Obviously the blood traitor Weasley twins and the little Mudblood friend of theirs. They're the only ones foolish—and bold—enough."

Another voice, laced with a venomous familiarity, cut through the room. If Cael had been there, he'd have known it instantly—Fischer Frey.

"I'm certain it was them," Frey hissed. "No one else would dare step foot in Slytherin territory like that. I say we make the Mudblood… disappear."

Before the idea could gain traction, a shorter figure seated across the circle spoke, his voice calm but carrying quiet authority that immediately silenced the room.

"How many times must I remind you to control your emotions, Frey?" His words were steady, but sharp beneath the surface. "We don't escalate like that. Or have you already forgotten what happened when one of us attacked the Muggle-born girl from Gryffindor? Dumbledore was furious." He let that settle before continuing, voice dropping lower. "If you kill this one, you'll ignite a war between the pure-blood families and Dumbledore himself. And you know we aren't strong enough to face that old fox head on at least not yet."

The others listened as he continued, voice cool, calculating.

"Dumbledore's already suspicious. He may know about this Court. But because we're backed by the old pure-blood families, he can't act openly. Still… if we slip up, he'll have reason to strike."

Simon Trevers chimed in, arms crossed under his cloak.

"Yeah… He didn't say a word about the prank on Slytherin, did he? Maybe that was his warning—stay quiet, don't cross the line ."

A pause settled before another voice spoke, steering the conversation elsewhere.

"Have we made contact with the Ravenclaws' little intellectual cult? The Reven's Group?"

Trevers exhaled in irritation.

"I tried. Their leader, Cetlyn Rosendale, brushed me off. Arrogant git told me he doesn't 'work with the unintelligent.'"

A few snorts of amusement echoed through the chamber as another member remarked,

"Typical. They actually believe they're Rowena Ravenclaw's true heirs—think they're the most brilliant wizards to walk these halls."

"They've even got this ridiculous ideology," another added with a sneer, "that only the smartest wizards deserve to wield magic. The rest of us? Mediocre thieves copying from true geniuses."

The group chuckled darkly, but one member continued, shaking his head.

"They've got Mudbloods in their ranks too—but the real joke? They refuse to let women join. Claim women lack the intellect for their cause."

"That nonsense about Rowena Ravenclaw being a man?" someone muttered, snickering.

"Yeah. All based on a drunken wizard's ramblings in some half-baked book," the speaker confirmed. "Claims he saw him, not her. Absurd."

The laughter returned, but the shorter, sharp-voiced leader cut through it.

"They may be arrogant, but arrogance makes them easy to manipulate. Offer promises, coin, and the illusion of power—they'll crawl to us."

The Court murmured their agreement, leaning in closer as their quiet plotting resumed .