MTLNOVEL Chapter 168: Diagon Alley
The house was quiet, sunlight pouring faintly through the windows as Cael Vale sat cross-legged in the centre of his study room . His sharp eyes scanned over his mother's worn leather journals, parchment after parchment littered across the desk in front of him. The relic—the Door Key—rested beside them, cold and ancient, humming faintly with dormant magic.
It had taken days of obsessive research, deciphering notes left behind by Elara Black, his mother. Finally, he'd pieced together the truth. The relic wasn't some simple magical trinket—it was an ancient construct powered by runes. Exactly one hundred and fifty-three runes were carved across its surface, twisting around the metal like veins of forgotten language.
So far, only twenty-two runes had been successfully deciphered—and those alone had taken his mother four years to understand. The journals detailed how her research team had travelled across Egypt, China, Babylon, even Macedonia in search of matching runes to complete the relic's activation. But most of the carvings remained unfamiliar, symbols older than any known magical dialect.
They had given up—forced to postpone their work as the First Wizarding War erupted and Voldemort's reign of terror overshadowed academic discovery.
Cael exhaled heavily, running a hand through his dark hair as he leaned back in his chair.
"If they couldn't do it… how am I supposed to?" he muttered under his breath.
But then, a smile curled onto his lips—a quiet, determined grin.
"I have one advantage," he whispered to himself, tapping his temple. His perfect memory. Every rune he studied, every ancient symbol, could be etched into his mind permanently.
But to succeed, he first needed to learn.
A few days later, Cael walked down the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, his robes brushing the cobblestone as he carried a stack of books nearly as tall as himself. He'd purchased every rune textbook he could find. From the beginner's guides to obscure, ancient tomes barely held together by thread.
His days became a quiet, determined cycle—wake up, read, memorise, cross-reference, repeat.
Until one morning, as he was sipping tea and absentmindedly munching on a biscuit, an owl slammed into his window.
Cael blinked, recognising the ruffled, exhausted bird instantly.
"Errol," he chuckled, opening the window. The Weasley family's hopeless old owl flopped onto his desk, wings sprawled dramatically. Cael plucked the letter from its leg and tossed a few nuts beside the bird as a reward.
The letter was from Fred and George. A grin tugged at Cael's lips as he read their familiar messy handwriting.
Hey, genius boy— Diagon Alley trip tomorrow! Whole family's going. Mum's dragging us for books and robes, but Potter's coming too—and you better show up, or we'll flood your letterbox with puking pastilles!
P.S. Heard a rumour—someone robbed the Ministry! Stole some 'super-important-secret-object.' Mental, right? Bet the guy's a legend.
Cael chuckled quietly to himself. "If only you knew," he muttered.
But their letter reminded him—it was nearly time for the events of the Chamber of Secrets to begin. The infamous scene where Lucius Malfoy slipped Tom Riddle's diary to Ginny Weasley would happen soon. Cael's mind raced. If he played it right, he could intercept the diary. With his Occlumency and the system's protection, the cursed Horcrux couldn't affect him.
With that thought firmly set, Cael penned a short letter back, agreeing to meet them at the Leaky Cauldron.
The next morning, dressed neatly in black robes, he stepped into his fireplace, tossed down a pinch of Floo Powder, and called out clearly, "The Leaky Cauldron!"
Green flames roared around him, and moments later, he stumbled out into the familiar pub. Tom, the barman, polished glasses behind the counter, raising an amused brow as Cael approached.
"Look who finally came back," Tom chuckled. "The lad who got himself a house and vanished from Diagon Alley. Busy life, eh?"
Cael grinned. "Studying. Preparing for next year. Third year's a big one."
Tom nodded sagely. "My niece, Hannah Abbott, she's at Hogwarts too. Hufflepuff, sweet girl—studious like you."
Cael's lips twitched. He remembered Hannah—good-hearted, but definitely not 'studious' in his books. "Right. Hufflepuff's pride."
With that, Cael slipped into Diagon Alley, the morning sun bouncing off shop windows. He'd barely taken a few steps when a familiar voice called out.
"Cael!"
He turned to see Hermione Granger waving eagerly, her parents trailing behind her. Her face lit up as she hurried over.
"Cael! How've you been? I went to the bookshop a few times but never saw you!"
Cael greeted her parents politely before turning to Hermione. "I've been…busy. I found a place."
Her eyes widened. "A place? You mean a house? You never mentioned that in your letters!"
Cael frowned in mock confusion. "Didn't I? Must've slipped my mind." He smiled and gave her the vague address within a hidden magical village.
As they entered the bustling alley together, he asked, "What brings you here? Term doesn't start for weeks."
Hermione beamed. "Two reasons! First, it's the book signing for my favourite author today. And second, Ron and Harry promised we'd come shopping together."
Cael smirked. "Favourite author, huh? Who?"
Hermione's face flushed with dreamy admiration. "Gilderoy Lockhart! His books are incredible—Magical Me, Break with a Banshee, Travels with Trolls—he's so brilliant…and handsome…"
Cael fought the urge to laugh as Hermione's words tumbled over each other like an overexcited fangirl. Her mother gently intervened, patting her shoulder.
"That's enough, Hermione," Mrs Granger smiled.
Before the conversation could spiral further, the Weasleys arrived, saving Hermione from deeper embarrassment. Mrs Weasley bustled over, eyes twinkling as she addressed Cael.
"So, you're Cael Vale? I've heard a lot—top marks, clever as they come." She shot a playful glare at Fred and George. "Unlike these two troublemakers."
Fred immediately protested, grinning. "He's our leader, Mum!"
Mrs Weasley dismissed him with a wave. "Good boys get good marks. If he causes trouble, it's your fault."
Arthur Weasley joined them, eagerly engaging Hermione's parents in a long, enthusiastic discussion about Muggle inventions.
As Hermione wandered off with her parents, the twins nudged Cael conspiratorially.
"Did you hear?" George whispered. "Someone stole a relic from the Ministry! Dad said it was chaos—spells flying everywhere—even Mad-Eye Moody showed up!"
Fred nodded. "Legend, whoever it was. Escaping the Ministry with half the Auror Office chasing him? Brilliant."
Cael smiled faintly, his secret safe for now.
George snorted. "And now Mum's dragging us to meet the most obnoxious man in Britain. Lockhart—middle-aged witches swoon over him."
The twins began mimicking exaggerated smiles and dramatic hair flips, drawing giggles from passing witches.
Moments later, Harry arrived with James Potter. Cael, Fred, and George greeted him warmly.
"Professor Potter," Cael teased.
James laughed, ruffling Harry's hair. "Not your professor anymore. Still causing mischief, boys?"
As they chatted, Harry pulled Cael aside. "Have you seen Hermione and Ron?"
"They went to the bank," Cael replied. "Exchange money. so how was your summer holidays Harry ? "
Harry sighed. "It was good most of the time at home or going on a family trip to country side for picnics but No one wrote me this summer—not even Ron or Hermione."
"Odd," Cael mused. "Ask them when they return."