Harry Potter: The Heir to Hufflepuff

The boats glided to a smooth stop as we reached the dock, the castle looming impossibly large above us. Hagrid was already there, pulling each boat closer to the pier with a practiced hand.

"Off ye go, first years! Mind yer step!" he called, holding out a lantern to light the way.

We climbed out one by one, the cool stone of the dock slick beneath our feet. Hermione grabbed Neville's arm to steady him as he stumbled again, his nerves apparently getting the better of him. I couldn't blame him—seeing Hogwarts up close like this was enough to rattle anyone.

Sally stuck close by, glancing nervously at the towering castle as we followed Hagrid up the steep path. The walk was short but steep, and soon we were standing before the grand double doors. They looked ancient, the wood worn smooth in places by centuries of hands pushing them open.

Hagrid raised a massive fist and knocked three times.

The doors swung open almost immediately, revealing Professor McGonagall standing in the vast entrance hall. Her sharp gaze swept over us, and she gave a small nod to Hagrid before turning her attention to us.

"First years, follow me," she said crisply.

We shuffled after her into the castle, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the enormous hall. The ceiling stretched so high above us that it seemed to disappear into the darkness, and the stone walls were adorned with tapestries and torches that flickered with warm light. I couldn't help but glance around in awe, even as I tried to keep pace with the group.

We were led to a smaller chamber off the main hall, where McGonagall turned to address us.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, her voice carrying a tone of practiced authority. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is a crucial part of your time here, as your house will be like your family for the duration of your stay at Hogwarts."

She went on to explain the four houses, the points system, and what was expected of us as students. While I'd already read about it in one of my books, hearing it in person made it feel far more real.

"When I return, you will follow me into the Great Hall to be sorted. Please wait here quietly."

With that, McGonagall swept out of the room, leaving us alone.

For a moment, there was only silence as everyone exchanged nervous glances. Then, the murmurs started. Some students were speculating about the Sorting Hat, while others were trying to calm their nerves.

That was when I noticed Draco Malfoy making his way toward Harry Potter, his usual air of superiority firmly in place. He stopped in front of Harry, flanked by his two lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle.

"So it's true, then," Malfoy drawled, his eyes narrowing. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. You'll find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand, clearly expecting Harry to take it.

Harry glanced at Ron, then back at Malfoy. "I think I can figure out the right sort for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Malfoy's face twisted in anger. "You'll regret that," he snapped, glaring at Ron. "Weasley, huh? I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. You don't want to be dragged down to his level."

Before the tension could escalate any further, I stepped forward.

"That's enough," I said, my tone firm.

Malfoy turned to me, his sneer faltering slightly when he saw the calm expression on my face. "And who are you supposed to be?" he demanded.

"Cassius Hufflepuff," I replied, my voice steady.

The name seemed to catch him off guard, his sneer wavering for just a moment before returning in full force.

"Hufflepuff?" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his tone. "What, are you trying to make a joke of yourself before we even get sorted?"

I met his gaze evenly. "I'm not joking. And I suggest you don't make the mistake of underestimating the wrong people, Malfoy."

For a moment, it seemed like he might try to argue, but he must have thought better of it. With a huff, he turned and stalked back to where Crabbe and Goyle were waiting, muttering under his breath.

Harry shot me a grateful look, and I nodded before stepping back to rejoin Hermione and Neville.

"Thanks," Harry said quietly.

"Don't mention it," I replied.

Just then, McGonagall returned, her expression as composed as ever. "It's time," she said, her eyes scanning the group. "Follow me."

--

We followed Professor McGonagall out of the chamber and into the Great Hall. The sight that greeted us was nothing short of breathtaking. Four long tables stretched the length of the massive room, each one filled with older students, their heads turning to watch us as we entered. Above us, the enchanted ceiling reflected the night sky, glittering with stars, and the flickering light of countless floating candles illuminated the room.

At the front of the hall stood another long table where the teachers sat, and in the center of it all was a worn, pointed hat perched on a wooden stool.

McGonagall stopped us in front of the stool and turned to address the hall. "When I call your name, you will come forward, place the Sorting Hat on your head, and be sorted into your house."

She picked up a long scroll and began reading off names.

"Hannah Abbott!"

A blonde girl with pigtails stepped forward nervously, sat down, and placed the hat on her head. After a moment, the hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers as she hurried over to join them.

"Draco Malfoy!"

Malfoy sauntered up to the stool, looking as though he already owned the place. The hat barely touched his head before shouting, "Slytherin!"

He smirked and strutted over to the Slytherin table, where they greeted him with loud applause.

The Sorting continued, and I watched with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione stepped forward, her shoulders squared as she sat on the stool. The hat seemed to take its time with her, but eventually, it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Hermione looked thrilled as she joined the cheering Gryffindor table.

"Neville Longbottom!"

Neville nearly tripped on his way to the stool, but the hat's decision was quick. "Gryffindor!"

He looked relieved as he stumbled over to join Hermione.

"Cassius Hufflepuff!"

The hall fell utterly silent.

I stepped forward, and it felt as though every set of eyes in the Great Hall was boring into me. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through tall grass, growing louder with every step I took.

"Hufflepuff?" I heard a Gryffindor mutter in disbelief.

"Is he serious?" a Ravenclaw hissed to her neighbor.

"An actual descendant?" someone at the Slytherin table questioned, their voice laced with intrigue.

I spared a quick glance toward the staff table. Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff House, looked like she might faint—or explode with pride; it was hard to tell. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hands were clasped tightly together as if she were barely holding herself back from cheering.

Dumbledore, however, was another matter entirely. He sat perfectly still, his piercing blue eyes focused intently on me. His usual calm smile was gone, replaced with an expression I couldn't quite read—curiosity mixed with something deeper, perhaps concern or fascination. When our eyes met, he gave me the smallest of nods.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to keep walking, my name echoing in my head with every step.

Sitting on the stool, I placed the Sorting Hat on my head, the brim slipping over my eyes and cutting off the room's stares.

"Well, well," the hat said in a voice only I could hear. "A Hufflepuff by blood… but not so simple in spirit. You've got ambition, cunning, and a sharp mind, though loyalty and kindness runs deep in your veins. A complex mix, indeed."

"I know where I belong," I thought firmly.

"Ah, yes, I see you do. Very well then," the hat said.

"Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers, breaking the tension in the hall. Removing the hat, I set it back on the stool and headed toward my house table, where a sea of yellow and black greeted me with warm smiles and clapping hands.

As I took my seat, I caught Professor Sprout wiping away what might have been tears of joy, while Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, the faintest smile returning to his lips.

The Sorting continued as I sat at the Hufflepuff table, trying to focus on the names being called, though my mind wandered to everything that had already happened today. My last name wasn't just a name now; it carried weight, history, and expectations I was still coming to terms with.

"Harry Potter!"

The hall fell silent as whispers broke out in a wave. Everyone craned their necks to get a better look at the boy with the messy black hair and round glasses. Even from where I was sitting, I could see the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

"Did he say Potter?" someone murmured near me.

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry walked up to the stool, looking a bit nervous as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

The silence stretched on as the hat deliberated. It seemed to take longer than it had with anyone else. Harry's face was obscured by the brim, but his fidgeting hands betrayed his anxiety.

Finally, the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers as Harry made his way over, looking both relieved and overwhelmed. He was greeted with pats on the back and handshakes as if he'd just won a Quidditch match.

The Sorting continued after that, but it felt like the energy in the room had shifted. Harry Potter was here, and it was all anyone seemed to talk about.

When the last student was sorted, Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment and returned to her seat. Dumbledore stood, and instantly the hall went quiet again.

"Welcome!" he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

The hall erupted in laughter and applause, and I found myself smiling at the absurdity of it all. With a wave of his hands, the golden plates before us filled with an astonishing array of food.

It was like stepping into a feast from a storybook. There were roasted meats, golden potatoes, steaming bowls of vegetables, and endless desserts. My plate was piled high before I realized it. Twig, who had been tucked away in my pouch during the Sorting, popped out and scampered up to my shoulder. His golden glow caught the attention of some of my housemates, but they only smiled curiously before returning to their meals.

Twig plucked a small piece of apple from my plate and nibbled on it contentedly.

--

As I dug into my food, trying to ignore the occasional glances sent my way, I noticed a few students at the table sneaking looks in my direction. It was understandable, I supposed. My last name wasn't something you heard every day, and I'd already gathered that Hufflepuff was known for being a bit more humble than the other houses. Being a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff was bound to raise some eyebrows.

Sure enough, not long after I sat down, a boy with round glasses and messy brown hair leaned toward me from across the table.

"Hey, Cassius," he started, his tone curious but a bit cautious, "are you really... you know... a Hufflepuff? Like, the Hufflepuff? The one from the Founders?"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at him before I gave a small, knowing smile. I couldn't say I hadn't expected this question.

"Yep," I said with a shrug, keeping my voice light.

His eyes widened slightly, and he looked back at his friends with disbelief before turning back to me. "No way. That's... that's kind of amazing."

Nearby, a blonde girl, who had been eavesdropping on our conversation, piped up. "No way," she said.

"Yeah, that's pretty impressive," added a girl with long brown hair and sharp eyes. "I'm Susan, by the way. Susan Bones."

"And I'm Hannah Abbott," the blonde girl added with a beaming smile. 

"Cassius Hufflepuff," I replied, offering them a nod. "Nice to meet you both."

"That's so cool," Hannah continued. "I didn't even know the Hufflepuff line still existed."

Susan gave me a thoughtful look. "It's rare for anyone to still have direct ties to one of the founders," she said, her tone measured. "My aunt's been telling me about magical history since I could talk, but this? This is something else."

I was about to reply when Sally chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "I knew there was something special about you when we met on the boats. You've got that kind of... I don't know... presence."

I laughed lightly at that, shaking my head. "Not sure about this 'presence,' but thanks."

As the conversation continued, I found myself genuinely enjoying their company. Hannah was bright and cheerful, filling the air with laughter, while Susan brought a quieter, more grounded energy to the table. Sally, meanwhile, was the perfect balance between the two—curious but with a calm confidence that made her easy to talk to.

The boy across from me, who eventually introduced himself as Owen, kept throwing in the occasional question or comment, but I could tell he was still wrapping his head around the whole "descendant of Helga Hufflepuff" thing.

"Hey," Hannah said after a while, leaning closer. "Do you think you'll get special treatment or something? Like, does being a Hufflepuff make you the ultimate Hufflepuff?"

I smirked at the idea, leaning back slightly. "Doubt it. I'm still new, just like everyone else. Sorting Hat didn't say anything about a crown or a throne, so I think I'll just stick to being me."

Susan gave a small smile at that, and Sally nudged my arm playfully. "Good answer," she said.

As the feast carried on, I couldn't help but feel a bit of the weight from earlier lifting. These were my housemates, my fellow Hufflepuffs, and in just a short time, they were starting to feel less like strangers and more like friends.

Twig, perched on my shoulder, seemed to agree. He stretched one of his little arms to pluck a stray crumb off the table, earning a delighted gasp from Hannah.

"What is that?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"His names Twig and he's a Bowtruckle," I said with a chuckle, watching as Twig flicked the crumb away, unimpressed.

--

As the feast began to wind down, the noise in the hall shifted from loud conversation and laughter to contented murmurs. The golden plates were slowly clearing themselves, signaling the end of the meal. Dumbledore stood once again, his presence commanding the attention of every student.

"Ahem," he began, his tone calm but carrying an edge of seriousness this time. "Just a few start-of-term notices to share with you all. First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students. A fact some of our older students might do well to remember." His twinkling eyes glanced toward the Gryffindor table, earning a ripple of laughter.

"Also," he continued, "the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

A chill ran through me, and I wasn't the only one. Nervous whispers broke out among the first-years. He couldn't be serious, could he? Yet the weight in his voice suggested otherwise.

"And now," Dumbledore said, his tone lighter once more, "let us retire for the evening. Sleep well, and be ready to start a magical year tomorrow!"