That evening, after dinner in the Great Hall and a leisurely stroll through the castle corridors—more to admire how unreasonably alive the paintings were than anything else—Cael returned to the second-year boys' dormitory. He'd meant to read from Hogwarts: A History, one of the copies he'd borrowed earlier. Instead, he found himself sitting cross-legged on his bed, a blank piece of parchment in his lap and a quill balanced thoughtfully between his fingers.
He stared at the page for a long while.
Then, with a soft sigh, he dipped the quill into ink and began to write.
Dear Mama Linda,
I made it.
I made it to Hogwarts.
It's hard to explain—really. It's like the whole castle is alive. The staircases move on their own, ghosts float through walls, and the portraits talk more than I do (imagine that). The ceiling in the dining hall shows the sky above us like a giant enchanted window, and breakfast just… appears. No trays. No servers. Just magic.
I didn't say it properly when I left, but… thank you.
I'll try not to get expelled.
My roommates are chaotic—you'd like them.
Fred and George Weasley are identical twins with too much energy and too little sense, and Lee Jordan pretends to be the voice of reason but somehow encourages all their worst ideas. They've already given me three prank suggestions and tried to call me "Third Twin." I politely declined. (I don't want to wake up with red hair.)
Classes started today. My first was Transfiguration. I turned a matchstick into a needle—properly! Professor McGonagall gave me ten house points for it. Maybe I am cut out for this.
I'll try to write again soon. Give my best to the kids.
Tell Benji to stop eating crayons, and remind Ella that socks don't go in the toaster.
I miss you.
Your officially magical boy,
Cael Vale
Cael read the letter twice over, a small smile tugging at his lips at the final line. Satisfied, he folded it with care and set it aside to send with the school owls in the morning.
Just as he leaned back on his pillow, the dormitory door banged open.
"Oi, Cael!" Fred called, grinning. "You survive Transfiguration without growing extra ears?"
"Barely," Cael said dryly. "Professor McGonagall looked at me like I'd set the classroom on fire just by existing."
"That means she likes you," George said, flopping onto the bed opposite his. "She only gives that look to students with potential."
Lee Jordan strolled in last, a bag of Every-Flavour Beans in hand. "If you thought that was intense, wait until Potions with Snape. The man makes vinegar look warm."
Fred laughed. "But hey—at least you didn't melt your matchstick into a lump of goo like poor Nigel from Hufflepuff."
"He really did that?" Cael asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," George confirmed. "Everyone laughed—even McGonagall had to turn around to hide it."
Lee tossed him a bean. "Try this one. It's either strawberry… or anchovy."
Cael sniffed it cautiously before popping it into his mouth. "Strawberry," he said, relieved.
"Boring," Fred declared. "You've got to earn your Gryffindor stripes by tasting something truly cursed."
"I'll pass," Cael said. "I already risked my life navigating the staircases this morning."
George leaned back on his elbows. "So? First day done. How's it feel? Full wizard now?"
Cael hesitated for just a moment—then smiled, softly and sincerely. "It feels… like I belong. Took a while to believe it, honestly. Wasn't expecting that."
The room fell quiet—not awkwardly, just contemplative.
Fred nudged him lightly with his foot. "Well, welcome to Gryffindor Tower, mate. Home of pranksters, spell-breakers, and recklessly brave fools."
Lee raised an imaginary goblet. "To Cael Vale—Third Twin in spirit, though tragically lacking the hair."
George grinned. "We can fix that."
"Oh, good luck with that," Cael said dryly. "I'll learn a shield charm faster than you can cast a hair-coloring jinx."
Laughter rang through the dormitory, and for the first time since his arrival, Cael felt a warmth settle in his chest—a quiet certainty. He wasn't just a guest in a magical world anymore.
He was part of it.
The next morning, Cael rose early, made his way to the Owlery, and tied his letter to the leg of a rather dignified-looking barn owl. Alongside it, he sent a small enchanted pouch containing magical treats for the kids at the orphanage—and a few sweets for Mama Linda herself.
With that done, he headed down to the Great Hall, greeting the Gryffindor girls along the way (they were always up before the boys). Taking a seat at the table, he ordered a plate of bacon, fish and chips, and a tall goblet of pumpkin juice.
Once breakfast was over, he checked his timetable.
Herbology – Greenhouse Three
Instructor: Professor Pomona Sprout
The greenhouse was warm and earthy, filled with the sweet-sour scent of soil and blooming greenery. Students from both Hufflepuff and Slytherin joined the Gryffindors for the lesson, chatting quietly as they waited.
A few minutes later, Professor Pomona Sprout bustled in, her robes trailing dirt and her hat slightly askew.
"Good morning, students!" she called brightly. "I hope you're not sleeping."
She passed by a Slytherin boy who was nodding off, gave a casual flick of her wand—and the boy startled awake, bursting into laughter.
"See?" she said cheerfully. "Laughing's better than sleeping. Now then! Let's get started, shall we?"
She gestured to a large, thickly coiled plant resting in a crate at the front. It looked like a nest of twitching ropes.
"Can anyone tell me what this plant is?"
Cassandra Vole's hand shot up like a lightning bolt.
"Yes, Miss Vole?" Professor Sprout said.
Cassandra rose with pride. "Devil's Snare."
"Correct! Ten points to Slytherin," the professor said with a nod.
Cassandra turned toward Cael, eyes gleaming as though she'd just won a duel. But Cael wasn't even looking—he was distracted, gently prodding a small, lamp-shaped sprout curling up from a nearby pot. He didn't even notice her victorious glare.
Cassandra frowned and clicked her tongue in irritation. Tsk.
Professor Sprout continued. "Devil's Snare thrives in dark, damp environments. It dislikes light and warmth—so you'll want to keep your wands ready."
As if on cue, one of the vines hissed and twitched, causing several students to recoil.
"It reacts to movement and tension," Sprout said, tapping the crate with a long pointer. "If it senses panic, it tightens. Like a boa. Struggling only makes it worse."
A Hufflepuff girl raised her hand. "Professor—how do we get out if we're caught?"
"Good question! Devil's Snare hates light. A spell like Lumos Solem—which conjures sunlight—will drive it away instantly. Even regular fire can do the trick, though I don't recommend burning down my greenhouse."
The students laughed nervously.
"To show you what not to do," she said, summoning a charmed vine replica, "this practice snare will react like the real thing—but without the danger."
She clapped her hands. "Who wants to go first?"
One by one, students stepped up to try, some managing to keep calm, others wriggling too much and earning good-natured corrections from Sprout.
"Too much squirming, Mr. Corner. It's a vine, not a jellyfish."
"Well done, Miss Bell! That was textbook-perfect."
Toward the end of the lesson, Professor Sprout addressed the class again. "Devil's Snare can be dangerous, yes—but like many magical plants, it isn't evil. It only behaves according to its nature. If you understand it, you can handle it."
She clapped her hands. "Now! Let's all practice Lumos Solem together before we move on to Puffapods—far more polite plants, I promise."
By the time the class ended, Cassandra Vole had earned the most house points, her knowledge and composure in Herbology undeniable. Cael, on the other hand, left the greenhouse with dirt on his knees and a smile on his face—he'd managed to calm the fake Devil's Snare without even needing a spell.
Students returned to their dormitories to clean up, while Filch trailed after them, red-faced and muttering about "filthy little beasts" muddying his corridors.
And just like that, Cael's second day at Hogwarts came to an end—with laughter, learning, and just a little more magic than the last.