The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Gryffindor Tower, casting golden light across the dormitory. Cael Vale stirred beneath the covers, his mind still foggy with sleep. With a low groan, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock on the wall.
7:02 AM.
"Too early," he muttered, dragging himself out of bed.
A hot shower helped revive him, the warmth easing away the stiffness in his limbs. After dressing in his school robes and making sure his wand was tucked safely into his belt, he left the dormitory in search of breakfast.
Finding the Great Hall, however, turned out to be an unexpected adventure.
"Honestly, this place is a maze. Who builds a school with moving staircases?" he thought as he wandered through the winding halls, passing curious portraits and ghostly residents who offered unhelpful advice. After nearly forty minutes—and one helpful tip from a floating suit of armor—he finally reached the Great Hall.
Long tables stretched the length of the room, and golden light streamed from the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored the soft morning sky. He sat at the Gryffindor table and ordered himself a hearty breakfast: scrambled eggs, orange juice, and—because why not—cake.
As he ate, the hall slowly filled with other students. Laughter and chatter echoed off the high stone walls. Topics bounced from homework to Quidditch to who'd gotten a howler last week.
Just as Cael was polishing off his eggs, two older girls sat at the table beside him.
"Hey there," said a tall, dark-skinned girl with a confident smile. "Are you the new roommate of the Weasley twins?"
Cael looked up, a bit surprised. "Yeah, I am. I'm with Lee Jordan and the twins. I'm Cael Vale, by the way."
"I'm Angelina Johnson," she said, offering her hand. "And this is Alicia Spinnet."
Alicia gave a friendly wave. "Second-years, both of us."
"Nice to meet you," Cael said with a small smile, shaking Angelina's hand. "You're the first people here who haven't tried to sell me a moving quill or a Bertie Bott's bean that explodes."
Angelina laughed. "Sounds like you've already met the twins properly, then."
A moment later, a younger girl with long blonde hair sat down beside them. She looked bright-eyed and cheerful.
"Hi! I'm Katie Bell, first-year!" she said eagerly.
"We were just talking to Cael here," said Alicia. "He's also new."
Katie turned to him. "Have you been sorted yet?"
"Yeah, yesterday. Gryffindor."
"Same!" she beamed. "Have you heard about Quidditch yet?"
Cael hesitated, then shook his head. "Not really. I've never seen a match before."
All three girls giggled.
"That's all right," said Angelina. "We were like that last year. You'll love it once the season starts. It's one of the best parts of Hogwarts."
"We're actually trying out for the Gryffindor team," Alicia added. "A lot of the old team graduated last year—Bill Weasley included—so there are spots open."
Katie leaned forward, eyes shining. "You should come watch! Tryouts are in a few weeks. You'll see how cool it is."
Before Cael could answer, the doors to the Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall strode in with her usual brisk elegance, a stack of parchments tucked under one arm.
She made her way down the Gryffindor table, handing out class schedules. When she reached Cael, she paused and gave him a curious look.
"I hear you're currently residing in the second-year boys' dormitory with the Weasley twins," she said.
Cael scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, there weren't any beds left in the first-year dorms. So, uh, I got promoted, I guess."
Her eyebrow arched slightly. "Hm. Unusual, but manageable." She handed him a parchment. "Here's your timetable, Mr. Vale."
"Thanks, Professor."
After breakfast ended, Cael made his way to his first class: Transfiguration with the Slytherins. The classroom was on the fourth floor, and he arrived a few minutes early, the room still quiet except for a silver tabby cat sitting calmly atop the desk at the front.
It was staring at him.
"Creepy cat," Cael murmured.
Suddenly, his system companion chirped in his head:
[System Message: Pat the cat. You'll receive +10 favorability points from the professor.]
Cael blinked. "What? Are you mad? That's Professor McGonagall! I'll be hexed into next week."
[System: Where's your sense of adventure?]
"Where's your common sense?" he shot back.
The cat blinked, slowly.
Cael sighed and found a seat near the middle of the classroom. One by one, students began to arrive. Among them was Cassandra Vole , the girl with golden hair and sharp green eyes whom he'd glimpsed the day before. She offered him a quick nod before taking a seat further back.
Then, in a swift, fluid motion, the cat leapt from the desk—and transformed into Professor McGonagall.
Gasps rippled through the room. Even Cael had to admit, it was impressive.
McGonagall clasped her hands behind her back. "Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous branches of magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing about in my class will leave and not return."
Her gaze swept the room, and for a brief moment, it lingered on Cael. He straightened in his seat.
"Transfiguration," she continued, "is the art of changing the form and appearance of an object. Be it its size, color, shape, or material—though such changes are rarely permanent."
Cassandra raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Vole ?"
"If the transformations don't last, then how is Hogwarts Castle still standing? Isn't it a product of Transfiguration?"
McGonagall smiled slightly, clearly pleased. "A thoughtful question. The answer lies in the difference between Transfiguration and enchantment. The Founders of Hogwarts used ancient magic—along with powerful runes—to construct the castle. It is not mere Transfiguration, but magic of a much deeper nature."
The class scribbled notes as she continued with the theory. Then she waved her wand and levitated a small wooden match to the air.
"With a proper incantation and concentration, you can transfigure this match into a needle. Observe."
She gave her wand a sharp flick. "Vera Verto."
The match shimmered—and turned into a gleaming silver needle.
"Now you try," she instructed, passing out matches.
Cael took his and stared at it. He gave it a few awkward flicks. Nothing.
"Vera Verto."
Fizzle.
Five tries later, still nothing.
"Come on, just turn already," he muttered.
He closed his eyes, summoned a clear image of the needle in his mind, and focused. His magic pulsed through the wand like a heartbeat.
"Vera Verto."
With a faint shimmer, the match elongated and hardened, metal replacing wood. A perfect needle.
McGonagall's eyes narrowed with interest. "Excellent work, Mr. Vale. Ten points to Gryffindor."
A few students clapped. Cael tried not to grin like a fool.
Cassandra, watching from the other side, gave a quiet huff—and focused harder on her own match. Ten minutes later, with a spark and a cheer from the nearby Slytherins, she succeeded as well.
"Well done, Miss Vole ," McGonagall said. "Five points to Slytherin."
By the time the lesson ended, Cael was buzzing—not from magic, but from the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was meant to be here.