"That hat is smoking!"
Harry's sharp exclamation cut through the Great Hall like a blade, drawing every pair of eyes to the ancient Sorting Hat perched atop Leo's head. Wisps of white smoke curled upward from the battered greyish-brown fabric, creating ghostly tendrils in the candlelight.
"Oh, Merlin's beard, has the Sorting Hat finally broken?!"
"This isn't fair! We had to suffer through that mouldy old thing, and now it breaks down for these first-years!"
The older students erupted in a mixture of schadenfreude and mock outrage, their voices bouncing off the enchanted ceiling like excited birds. Some Gryffindor seventh-years were practically doubled over with laughter.
"Who is that first-year? He actually made the Sorting Hat crash!"
"Look at him just standing there so calmly! That takes some serious nerve."
"Woo, he's quite handsome for a little brother. Wonder which house will claim him... if any!"
The unsorted first-years huddled together like frightened sheep, their faces pale with worry. A stocky boy with a flat head turned an alarming shade of green as he stammered to his companion:
"Malfoy, if we can't be sorted into houses, we won't be expelled, will we?"
Standing beside him, a thin boy with sleek platinum-blonde hair and cold grey eyes regarded him with obvious disdain. Draco Malfoy's voice dripped with aristocratic condescension:
"Crabbe, how can you ask such a pathetically stupid question? Have you forgotten who my father is?"
Lucius Malfoy... current head of the Malfoy family and Hogwarts governor. As if a governor's son could be denied entry to this school.
Malfoy's calculating gaze shifted to Leo standing motionless on the platform, genuine interest flickering in those pale eyes. He had originally thought that only Harry Potter, that legendary boy, would catch his attention this year and prove worthy of Draco Malfoy's friendship. He hadn't expected another such remarkable figure to appear.
Leonardo Grafton... hmm, he should definitely arrange an introduction.
But Grafton? Was there such a pure-blood family in the Sacred Twenty-Eight?
Professor McGonagall had witnessed decades of Sorting Ceremonies, but this was her first time seeing the ancient hat display such alarming behaviour. The artefact seemed to be... struggling. She turned toward the staff table, seeking guidance from the headmaster.
But Dumbledore merely sat stroking his silver beard, his blue eyes twinkling with unmistakable delight as he observed Leo. Having lived for over a century and spent most of that life within these castle walls, he had seen and taught countless students. Never once had he encountered a young wizard who could make the Sorting Hat deliberate for over ten minutes without reaching a decision.
The smoking hat was almost comical in its distress, this thousand-year-old artefact working harder than it had in decades.
Originally, after McGonagall's advance report, Dumbledore had known about Leo's magical talents and felt eager to meet this "prodigy". But before they had even formally spoken, Dumbledore was already witnessing the boy's extraordinary nature firsthand.
The Sorting Hat contained the preserved wisdom and thoughts of all four house founders... an ancient, deeply intelligent magical artefact. It could peer directly into young wizards' souls, identifying their most prominent qualities and determining which house would nurture them best.
But Leo's extended sorting time revealed something remarkable: the sheer richness and complexity of his character had overwhelmed even this legendary relic. Only wizards with exceptionally distinct characteristics and rare talents could confound the hat so thoroughly.
Such individuals always went the highest and travelled the farthest.
Dumbledore found himself genuinely curious about what qualities this child possessed that had thrown the Sorting Hat into such delightful chaos.
Meanwhile, Leo himself remained the calm eye of this brewing storm, currently engaged in what could only be described as counselling an ancient magical artefact.
"Hat, don't be so conflicted. This really isn't a reflection of your abilities... maybe you're just having an off day?"
Within his mental landscape, a somewhat translucent version of the Sorting Hat spun frantically through the air like a demented tornado.
"NO! I will never, NEVER sort a young wizard into the wrong house! My reputation spans a millennium! Absolutely not!"
Leo suppressed the urge to point out certain... questionable past decisions. Peter Pettigrew in Gryffindor, really? But antagonising an already overwrought magical artefact seemed unwise.
"Though Muggle-born, your talents are unprecedented in my thousand-year existence! There's ambition here... burning ambition to master power. SLYTHERIN!"
The hat paused for exactly half a second.
"No, wait! That ambition stems from an insatiable thirst for knowledge, a relentless pursuit of understanding. In the magical world, knowledge IS power! RAVENCLAW!"
Another brief pause.
"But no, no, no! You possess that rare courage to explore the unknown, that firm and fearless quality that defines true bravery! GRYFFINDOR!"
Leo had stopped responding entirely, watching this internal debate with growing amusement.
"There's still the matter of your tireless dedication to learning, that remarkable patience and unwavering effort in the face of any challenge! HUFFLEPUFF!"
Right. The hat had now contradicted itself four times in as many minutes. Leo suspected that if the Sorting Hat could manifest multiple versions of itself, they would be engaged in an epic magical brawl by now.
This had gone on long enough. The evening was slipping away; he had books waiting, spells to practise, and knowledge to absorb. Time was far too precious to waste on an indecisive hat.
"Just put me in Ravenclaw."
Leo's mental voice carried quiet authority. After listening to the hat's extensive rambling, combined with his knowledge of Hogwarts' history, he understood each house's character perfectly.
Gryffindor housed brave lions... but also attracted reckless troublemakers who seemed magnetically drawn to chaos. Slytherin contained ambitious vipers, clever and cunning, but also harboured pure-blood supremacists who spouted nonsense about bloodline purity. He could certainly educate them about how magical talent mattered more than ancestry, but why invite the headache?
Both houses thrived on drama and conflict. Leo craved something different: time. Time to study, to research, to master magic... especially Transfiguration, which he absolutely had to perfect within a year.
That left two options. Hufflepuff offered gentle stability, filled with kind-hearted badgers who provided peaceful environments for learning. But Ravenclaw... ah, Ravenclaw.
Those sharp, brilliant eagles had built themselves the most competitive nest in the castle. Leo loved competition... competing against others, but even more against himself. The pioneers ahead, companions alongside, and pursuers behind all formed a landscape of intellectual challenge that made his heart sing.
The Sorting Hat fell completely silent within his mind. After more than ten seconds, it spoke with something approaching relief:
"What you said... makes perfect sense."
In the physical world, the hat's fabric mouth split wide, delivering its loudest proclamation yet:
"RAVENCLAW!!!"