Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

The Gryffindor common room buzzed with post-feast energy, golden lamplight glowing from every corner, casting cozy reflections off the red and gold tapestries. Students sank into armchairs, swapping stories, laughing, and speculating wildly about the spectacle still making the rounds: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley flying to school in a Muggle car.

Cael Vale sat comfortably near the fireplace, lounging on a worn-out sofa beside Lee Jordan. Fred and George sprawled nearby, playing a game of Exploding Snap with Alicia and Angelina, while Hermione hovered near the stairs like a pacing hawk, arms folded, brows drawn in a perpetual scowl.

The portrait hole creaked open.

Every head turned.

And there they were—Harry and Ron, looking like they'd been dragged backwards through a thunderstorm. Harry's robes were rumpled, his hair more chaotic than usual. Ron looked even worse: his sleeves streaked with soot, one shoe half-off, and his expression caught somewhere between mortification and exhaustion.

For a second, silence.

Then chaos erupted.

"You actually did it!"

"You flew here?!"

"Did you nearly crash into the Great Hall?!"

"Is it true you dented the Whomping Willow?!"

Voices overlapped as nearly the entire House rushed toward them—shouting, laughing, demanding every detail.

Hermione Granger wasn't among them.

She stormed up instead, fists clenched, expression stony.

"Honestly," she snapped before either of them could speak. "What were you thinking?"

Harry blinked, startled. "We couldn't get in. The entrance to the platform was locked—we tried everything, but it wouldn't let us through."

"You should have waited!" Hermione's voice rose above the rest. "You could've told someone. Sent a message. Anything! Use owls, send word to Professor McGonagall, get help! But you took Mr. Weasley's car like a pair of reckless lunatics!"

Ron, already drooping with exhaustion, scowled. "Alright, alright, Hermione. We know it was dumb. Professor McGonagall already gave us an hour-long lecture, Snape threatened expulsion, and Dumbledore looked at us like we set the castle on fire."

"I'm just saying—"

"Well don't," Ron cut in, rubbing his forehead. "We're tired, alright? We've heard it all already. Don't pile on more."

Hermione huffed, nostrils flaring. "Fine. Have it your way." She turned sharply and stormed off, nose in the air, but not before muttering something about "absolutely unbelievable."

The crowd still hovered, trying to catch pieces of the story, when Fred and George shoved their way in.

"Well, well," Fred grinned, slinging an arm around Ron's shoulder. "The airborne adventurers themselves!"

George ruffled Harry's hair. "How was it? Windy? Loud? Did Ron cry?"

"I did not cry," Ron muttered.

Fred leaned in with a dramatic gasp. "Did you loop-the-loop over London? Blast a few Muggle buildings out of the city ?"

"We barely stayed alive," Harry admitted. "It was… not fun."

That answer only made them laugh harder.

But then a small voice rang through the chatter.

"How could you?!"

The room stilled.

Ginny stood a few steps away, her face pale and furious, fists clenched at her sides. Her eyes locked on Ron.

"You took Dad's car," she said, trembling. "You stole it. And you brought Harry with you—what if something happened to him?! What if you crashed? What if—" Her voice cracked. "You're supposed to look after him, not put him in danger!"

"Ginny, I didn't—" Ron tried to say.

"You're the worst," she snapped, eyes filling with tears. "You're not even sorry."

And before anyone could respond, she spun around and bolted up the girls' staircase, her hair trailing behind her like a banner of flame.

The silence that followed was sharp.

Then a soft snort broke it.

Cael leaned over toward Lee Jordan, who was shaking with laughter. Cael smirked. "If Ron thought Snape was scary, he clearly hasn't met Ginny on a warpath."

Lee wiped his eyes. "She nearly hexed him with her glare alone."

They both chuckled quietly, but even Cael's amusement had an edge. He admired daring, but reckless idiocy deserved every ounce of fallout.

The portrait hole slammed open again.

Percy Weasley stormed in.

He strode across the common room with Prefect badge gleaming, every movement sharp with purpose. His jaw was clenched, and he looked ready to duel someone.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

Ron flinched. "Oh no."

Percy halted inches from his brother's face. "You embarrassed the entire family. Stole Father's car, crashed into a sacred tree on Hogwarts grounds, nearly got expelled, and you endangered Harry Potter's life in the process."

Harry shifted awkwardly. "Er—wasn't Ron's idea entirely…"

"I don't want to hear it!" Percy snapped, still staring down Ron. "Mum's going to howl when she hears about this. And I—I am going to write to her myself."

"You don't have to—" Ron began.

Percy turned on his heel with military precision. "It's my responsibility. As a Prefect. As your older brother. And as someone who still values the family name."

He marched off in a fury, presumably toward the owlery.

"Brilliant," Ron mumbled, dropping into the nearest armchair. "That'll go well."

"Hope you like howlers," Lee called over cheerfully.

Fred threw himself down next to him. "We'll help you rig a silencing charm when it arrives. Though we couldn't do it two years ago "

George nodded solemnly. "Might even be louder than last time's. Well at least we pranked the Slytherin quidditch match "

"I can't believe we're not expelled," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"You will be," Cael said dryly, "if you ever do something that stupid again."

Harry glanced at him, surprised. But Cael just looked amused. Not angry—just entirely unimpressed.

Ron groaned. "Next time we'll send Hermione three owls and camp outside the platform like lunatics."

Hermione, from across the room, sniffed. "Would've been better."

Despite everything, despite the scolding and the embarrassment and the threats of parental wrath, laughter rippled through the common room again. Some already began retelling the story to new first-years with increasing exaggeration.

Fred grinned wickedly. "Bet the first-years think you two are legends already."

George winked. "Crash-landing your way into Hogwarts—classic Gryffindor move."

Cael stretched out his legs, watching the flames flicker on both of the guys . "They're not legends," he muttered to Lee with a grin, "they're a public safety hazard."