The first-years were lined up in the long, torch-lit corridor outside the Great Hall, nerves crackling in the air like static.
"So what's the test?" a small boy with sandy hair whispered desperately.
"My sister says there's a logic riddle," answered girl clutching her robe sleeves. "If you get it wrong, you're sent home."
"That's rubbish," another student hissed. "My cousin said they make you duel a prefect."
"No," a trembling Hufflepuff hopeful cut in, eyes wide. "They look straight into your memories."
"Do they know if you're lying?" someone squeaked.
Leo listened quietly, heart pounding but face calm. He'd heard plenty himself.
It weighs your soul, Orion had once said.
It sees what you could be, Vela added.
It's annoying, Lyra finished. Takes too long.
The chatter died instantly as sharp footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Professor Minerva McGonagall appeared, tartan robes immaculate, expression precise and unreadable.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said crisply. "In a few moments, you will be Sorted into your houses. The four houses are Gryffindor, who value bravery and nerve; Ravenclaw, who prize wit and learning; Slytherin, who admire ambition and cunning; and Hufflepuff, who uphold loyalty, patience, and fair play."
Her gaze swept over them, sharp as a blade.
"Your house will be like a family to you. You will earn points for your house—and lose them, should you misbehave." Her lips thinned meaningfully. "The Sorting is final."
The doors swung open.
The Great Hall stole the breath from Leo's lungs.
Above them stretched a ceiling enchanted to mirror the night sky—stars scattered like diamonds across deep velvet, uncannily similar to the constellations his family was named after. Four long tables gleamed with candlelight and chatter. At the High Table sat the professors, and at its centre—
Albus Dumbledore.
He looked exactly as their older siblings letter described: serene, silver-robed, moon patterns embroidered into the fabric, half-smiling as though he already knew every secret in the room.
Leo's gaze flicked instinctively to the tables.
Orion sat at Slytherin, posture straight, eyes sharp and watchful.
Lyra and Vela were at Ravenclaw, both practically vibrating with anticipation.
This is real, Leo thought. It finnaly happeining.
Afterward
Names were called.
"Birch, Elowen!" — HUFFLEPUFF!
"Carrow, Elias!" — SLYTHERIN!
"Fairbourne, Rowan!" —HUFFLEPUFF!
"Montague, Silas!" — GRYFFINDOR!
Then—
"Diggory, Cedric!"
Cedric walked forward, pale but steady. The hat barely touched his head.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Cheers erupted. Cedric beamed, throwing Leo a triumphant look as he joined the table.
More names followed.
"Weasley, Fred!" — GRYFFINDOR!
"Weasley, George!" — GRYFFINDOR!
The twins whooped, bowing theatrically to the Hall.
Then—
"Lee, Leo!"
A hush fell.
The name carried weight. There had only ever been a few Lee at Hogwarts—and all of them were remembered.
Orion Lee: Known for his looks, charisma and a mastery of Defense against the Dark Art
Lyra Lee: Ravenclaw chaser, fearless and brilliant.
Vela Lee: The smartest witch in her year.
Leo stepped forward, raven-black hair stark against his pale skin, golden eyes steady despite the pounding of his heart. He sat. The hat slipped down.
Darkness.
"Oh ho," murmured a small, knowing voice. "A Black by blood, a Lee by name… and a heart like shattered glass and sunlight."
Leo waited.
"You think quickly—Ravenclaw would welcome you. Your sisters' brilliance runs strong in you."
A pause.
"But there's fire here, too. Reckless courage. You laugh at giants. Gryffindor would cheer your name."
Minutes passed.
The Hall stirred.
"But beneath all that," the hat whispered softly, "there is iron. You hold people together. You endure. You protect. You work not for praise, but for those you love."
Silence stretched—five minutes. Then seven.
A true Hat stall.
Everyone was whispering loudly as it been a while that someone is hat stalled.
Finally, the hat shouted:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The yellow table exploded.
Cedric was on his feet, cheering. Tonks shrieked with laughter. Orion blinked in surprise—then nodded once, proud and respectful. Lyra and Vela clapped furiously, relief written across their faces.
Leo stood. An idea came at him immediately after seeing yellow coloured robes
And then—he paused.
Magic shimmered.
Gasps rippled through the Hall as Leo transformed.
His robes shifted to gold. His features softened and matured into a warm, maternal face. Auburn hair braided into a crown. He stood as Helga Hufflepuff herself, straight from the portraits.
The Hall erupted.
Dumbledore rose first, applauding slowly, eyes alight with delight. McGonagall's lips twitched. Snape looked deeply offended. The other professor clapped with the absurdity of what Is happening.
"ONE THOUSAND POINTS TO HUFFLEPUFF!" Leo yelled.
The Great Hall froze.
All eyes snapped to the hourglasses.
Nothing changed.
Then laughter broke out—roaring, uncontrollable.
Leo-as-Helga blew a dramatic, sparkling kiss to the High Table, then another to Hufflepuff.
"That's my cousin!" Tonks shrieked, hair flashing neon yellow. "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT?"
Someone from Gryffindor yelled, "Your name literally means lion! Why aren't you in Gryffindor"
The table collapsed into laughter.
Leo shifted back, exhaustion tugging at him, but his grin was radiant. He slid into the seat beside Cedric.
"Seven minutes," Cedric whispered, awestruck. "And Helga Hufflepuff. That was… legendary."
Leo chuckled softly. While wiping his sweat "I've changed into far too many people today. I'm glad I stuck the landing."
Above them, the stars shimmered.
After the Sorting Ceremony
Dumbledore stood, his silver beard catching the light of the floating candles.
"I have only a few words for you all," he said cheerfully, his voice carrying easily over the excited hum. "And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
He sat back down, beaming, as though he had just delivered the most profound lecture in the history of magic.
The Great Hall barely had time to process that before the golden plates shimmered. In the blink of an eye, the long tables were buried beneath food—roast beef, honeyed carrots, lamb chops, sausages, mountains of potatoes, fresh bread still steaming, and desserts stacked so high they looked structurally unsound.
"Is he a bit mad?" Leo whispered to Cedric, staring as a platter of roast beef appeared directly in front of him.
"A bit," Cedric laughed, already reaching for the Yorkshire puddings. "But if you're that powerful, I suppose you earn the right."
The Hufflepuff table burst into motion—clinking silverware, laughter, hands reaching in every direction. Leo, who hadn't realised how tense he'd been all day, suddenly felt starving. He filled his plate with honey-glazed carrots and thick-cut lamb chops, the smell alone making his shoulders finally relax.
Four other first-years sat nearby, all wearing the same slightly stunned, overjoyed expression.
Closest to Leo was Elowen Birch, a small girl with warm brown skin and tightly braided hair, who was staring at her plate as if afraid the food might vanish if she blinked.
"They won't take it back," Leo said lightly, nodding at the roast chicken she hadn't touched yet.
She laughed nervously. "Sorry—I just… my gran said Hogwarts food was exaggerated."
Across from them, Rowan Fairbourne, a broad-shouldered boy with straw-blond hair and a perpetually crooked tie, was already on his third helping of potatoes.
"If this is exaggerated," Rowan said through a mouthful, "I'm never going home."
Next to him sat Maribel Cruz, who has brown thin straight hair and face filled with freckle, look at her food intently
"I wonder where do they supply the food"
Beside her, Tobias Finch, freckled and thin with ink-stained fingers and dark hair, had stacked his desserts into a neat, symmetrical tower.
"If it collapses," Tobias muttered, "I'll know exactly which pudding was responsible."
Leo snorted before he could stop himself.
Conversation flowed easily—favourite sweets, rumours about staircases that moved on purpose, wild guesses about professors. It was… comfortable. No pressure. No measuring glances.
Tonks slid into a seat nearby, grinning.
"Leo, you have no idea," she said brightly. "Seniors are already laughing—apparently the other houses are furious Hufflepuff got another Metamorphmagus."
"Really?" Leo chuckled. "I thought I'd eased them into it."
Tonks cackled. "You turned into Helga Hufflepuff."
"Fair point."
"Try the potatoes," Tonks added, leaning over, her hair now a bright, appetising orange. "The house-elves season them with something that's probably illegal in at least three countries."
Leo obeyed—and hummed approvingly. Warm, hearty, grounding. The kind of food that made you feel looked after.
A gentle chill brushed his shoulder.
"Welcome to Hufflepuff!" boomed a cheerful voice.
Leo turned to see the Fat Friar, floating comfortably through the bench, his translucent robes glowing softly.
"A splendid sorting!" the Friar said. "A seven-minute Hatstall, no less! And that transformation—oh, it reminded me of her. How I miss her…"
Leo dipped his head politely. "Thank you, sir."
As the feast continued, Leo glanced across the Hall.
At Slytherin, Orion ate with composed precision, surrounded by students who looked as though they were silently appraising one another.
At Ravenclaw, Vela was already deep in debate with an older student, gesturing sharply toward the ceiling, while Lyra animatedly mimed a broom spiralling through the air, clearly making some complicated point about aerodynamics.
"They look serious," Cedric remarked, following Leo's gaze.
"That's Ravenclaw for you," Leo replied, wiping gravy from his lip. "in my sister case They'd debate the existence of forks if given the chance."
They both turned toward Gryffindor.
Fred and George were engaged in an enthusiastic chicken-leg duel, waving bones like swords, while Percy Weasley looked on in absolute horror.
Cedric laughed. "hahaha I know this gonna happen the twin making a scene while Percy look with contempt."
Leo laugh and then lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice. "So Cedric...to the most diligent house in Hogwarts."
Cedric smiled, raising his own goblet. "You can call me Ced."
Their cups clinked.
Above them, the enchanted stars shone softly—steady, warm, and watching.