As Cael followed Professor McGonagall through the shifting corridors of Hogwarts, his mind raced. They reached the grand stone gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. McGonagall gave the password in a clipped tone—"Lemon Sherbet"—and the statue sprang to life, wings folding as the spiral staircase emerged with a soft grinding sound.
They ascended in silence.
At the polished oak door, McGonagall gave a quick knock, then pushed it open. But before Cael could cross the threshold, he heard voices—sharp, raised, and unmistakably tense.
He stepped in and immediately froze.
Professor Dumbledore sat calmly at his desk, hands folded. But facing him in a stiff-backed chair was none other than Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself. Flanking the room like statues were two stern-faced men—Senior Aurors, both radiating suspicion. The atmosphere was heavy, electric.
"Ah, Mr. Vale," Dumbledore said with a calm smile. "Do come in. Please, have a seat."
Fudge turned slowly in his chair, his beady eyes narrowing as they settled on Cael. "So," he said, voice clipped, "you are Mr. Black."
Cael met his gaze and answered coolly, "You can assume that."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, though there was gravity behind them. "Minister Fudge has come to speak with you, Cael. He wishes to… ask a few questions."
Before the headmaster could say more, Fudge cut in. "Yes, yes, quite right. Mr. Vale—Mr. Black, rather—you must understand the circumstances. Given recent… revelations, and your connection to Sirius Black, there are those in the Ministry who believe you may have aided in his escape from Azkaban, or perhaps… have been in contact with him."
"Interrogation, then," Cael said flatly.
"No! Merely questions. Just… clarity, that's all." Fudge forced a smile, but sweat had begun to bead at his temples.
Cael's voice sharpened. "I didn't even know about my mother's connection to the Black family until last year. I only recently learned her name was Elara Black. And from what I've gathered, she had no fondness for her family—including Sirius Black. I have no reason to help him."
Fudge dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. "Yes, well… I do want to believe you, Mr. Vale. Truly. But many others in the Ministry—important people—won't be so easily convinced."
"Ah," Cael said, eyes narrowing. "So it's them, is it? The pure-blood supremacists pulling your strings again?"
Fudge bristled. "Now let's not go there. These are respected families! Pillars of our society! Your family, the Blacks, have long been—"
"Leeches," Cael interrupted coldly. "Who've been draining the vaults and estates for years. And now that there's a rightful heir, they're terrified of losing their grip."
"Mind your tone!" Fudge snapped, flushing. "I've tolerated your insolence so far, but you will not insult me or the Ministry again!"
"What will you do?" Cael shot back. "Throw me into Azkaban to cover your own incompetence? Is that the plan? You can't catch a man who spent thirteen years in a cell, and now you want a scapegoat. Me."
Fudge stood, face red with fury. "How dare you! I am the Minister for Magic—you do not get to shout at me like some angry child!"
Cael rose as well, meeting him eye to eye. "And I am a Hogwarts student—not one of your lapdogs to push around!"
The two Aurors tensed, their hands twitching toward their wands.
Fudge turned to Dumbledore, sputtering, "This boy will become a Dark wizard, I promise you! I demand he be brought to the Ministry! We'll use Veritaserum—get the truth out of him, one way or another!"
Dumbledore's voice cut through the room like velvet steel.
"Minister," he said firmly, "please, calm yourself. Cael is a student, and an underage one at that. Hogwarts is not in the habit of handing its children over to fear and rumor."
The room fell quiet.
But then a voice crackled from one of the paintings—loud, commanding.
"Touch my great-grandson and I will end every Knut of donation from the Black Family to your Ministry!"
Phineas Nigellus Black, former headmaster of Hogwarts, stood tall and proud within his portrait frame, his eyes ablaze. "I may be dead, but I still hold weight among our old families. Do not tempt me, Fudge."
Fudge ignored him, glaring at Dumbledore. "These families—the real ones—are pressuring me. If he stays here, you'll be sheltering someone the public already sees as a risk."
Dumbledore's tone grew frostier. "Then let them talk. Cael is a student here. He attends his classes. He is underage. And I will not allow Veritaserum to be used on him—such a thing is not only unethical but illegal. If you insist, I'll call a Wizengamot inquiry myself."
Fudge's face twisted, and after a long moment, he exhaled sharply. "Fine," he muttered. "For now. But don't think this is the end. Until Black is captured, your… heir… will be watched. I'll place Dementors at the school's edge to monitor him."
He turned on his heel and stormed toward the exit, his Aurors following closely behind. The heavy door closed behind them with a final, echoing thud.
McGonagall had stood silently through it all, but now she turned toward Dumbledore and Cael.
Dumbledore gave Cael a small smile. "He's under stress," he said softly. "But that's no excuse for the way he treated you."
Cael looked down, then met Dumbledore's eyes. "Thank you… for standing up for me."
"You needn't thank me, Cael. You're a student of Hogwarts. No innocent child of mine will be dragged from these walls and treated like a criminal."
After a pause, Dumbledore asked gently, "But if you don't mind—how did you come to learn of your mother's identity?"
Cael took a deep breath. "Last year… the House Elf of the Black family—Kreacher—appeared. He brought me to the manor. There, I met Walburga Black's portrait."
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Ah, Walburga. Spirited girl. She was in Slytherin during my early teaching years. I taught her Transfiguration. Brilliant—but proud. Too proud, perhaps."
He looked to McGonagall. "Do you remember her, Minerva?"
McGonagall gave a tight nod. "Hard to forget. She used to hex Hufflepuffs for sport. She lost her Head Girl badge under Headmaster Dippet, remember?"
Turning back to Cael, Dumbledore said, "And I assume you went to Gringotts to claim your inheritance?"
Cael nodded. "I had my blood tested. It came back positive—I'm Elara Black's son."
Dumbledore smiled wistfully. "Elara… yes. I remember her too. A gifted witch. Brilliant in Defense and Runes. It's no wonder she rose so quickly in the Department of Mysteries."
McGonagall glanced toward Cael. "Do you know anything about your father?"
"No," Cael said quietly. "Only that he worked with my mother at the Department of Mysteries. I don't know his name, his face… nothing."
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Well, whoever he was, you've inherited strength from both sides. Just remember—Hogwarts is your home. Here, you are safe. No Ministry decree can change that."
Cael stood, feeling a measure of relief. "Thank you, Professor."
As he turned to leave, Phineas Nigellus's portrait spoke again, softer this time.
"Dumbledore… protect the boy. He is the last Black."
Dumbledore tilted his head with a mysterious smile. "Oh, Phineas… he may not be the last. There's someone else—out there."
Phineas blinked, startled. But before he could speak, Cael stepped through the doorway and closed it behind him.