Hogwarts beauty
The sky had darkened into the deep, bruised purple .
when a prefect strode down the corridor, clapping sharply.
"First-years—change into your Hogwarts robes. We'll be arriving shortly."
The announcement barely registered at first. Leo, Cedric, Fred, and George were in the middle of an animated Quidditch argument, half of them wrestling with sleeves while the other half gestured wildly.
"I'm telling you," Fred insisted, tugging his robe on backward, "the Irish Chasers are unbeatable."
""Only because france team was injured that day, if they are healthy they would have won easily" Leo shot back, smoothing his collar. "Victoire Moreau doesn't just fly—he moves like he's thinking three plays ahead of everyone else.
Cedric nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! Precision. Strategy."
suddenly
The train suddenly screeched, metal shrieking against metal as it ground to a halt. The were shocked they taught It was still far away, turn out the prefect was right,
compartment erupted into chaos.
"Robes! Shoes! Where's my tie?" George yelped , they barely managed to finish dressing before the doors were thrown open and cold night air rushed in.
As Leo pulled the heavy black fabric over his shoulders, he felt the familiar weight settle
No weakness, he reminded himself.
He glanced at his reflection in the darkened window. Calm expression. clear skin. Hair locked into a disciplined, unmoving raven-black. Good.
They stepped down onto the platform, breath puffing white in the chill.
Then a voice boomed over the noise of hundreds of students.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"
A giant of a man stood ahead, lantern swinging in one enormous hand. He was easily twice the height of anyone else, wrapped in a moleskin coat, his beard a wild, tangled forest. His eyes gleamed warmly beneath the shadow of his brow.
"Blimey," Fred whispered. "He's… big, isn't he?"
"That's Hagrid," Cedric murmured, awe-struck. "Keeper of Keys. My brother says—" he hesitated, then added solemnly, "—never eat his rock cakes."
They followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path, stones slick beneath their shoes. At the bottom lay a vast lake, its surface so black and still it looked like polished glass. Small wooden boats bobbed gently at the shore.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called.
Leo climbed in with Cedric and the twins. The boat rocked once, then steadied.
Without a sound, the boats began to move, gliding across the lake as if pulled by invisible hands.
Then Hogwarts rose before them.
The castle loomed from the cliffside like something torn straight from a dream—tower upon tower of ancient stone, windows glowing gold against the night. Bridges arched impossibly between turrets. Reflections shimmered across the lake, doubling the vision, as if the castle existed both above and below the water.
It was beautiful in a way that hurt.
Fred and George had gone completely silent, their usual chatter swallowed by awe. Cedric gripped the side of the boat, knuckles white, eyes wide and shining.
Leo felt the tension pressing in, thick and unspoken.
Then he had an idea, he wanted to commemorate this memory with laughter.
In a blink, his features shifted—his frame broadening, beard exploding across his face, shoulders widening until the boat creaked under the sudden change.
In a perfect, gravelly imitation, he boomed:
"Right then, firs'-years—no screamin', no fallin' in, an' no complainin' unless yeh fancy swimmin' with the grindylows—"
The boat lurched violently as the weight distribution went horribly wrong.
"WE'RE GOING TO DIE," George shrieked.
Leo—still wearing Hagrid's face—panicked and yelled in his own high-pitched voice, which somehow made it infinitely worse.
"I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT THE WEIGHT—"
The contrast of a giant Hagrid body screaming like a twelve-year-old sent Fred into hysterics.
The boats around them erupted into laughter, pointing and shouting. Nervous fear shattered instantly, replaced by disbelief and delight.
"OI!" the real Hagrid shouted from the front, spinning around. "What's goin' on back—"
He froze.
There, in the third boat, sat another Hagrid, beard magnificent, staring down at a tiny oar in confusion.
"MERLIN'S BEARD!" George yelled, clutching Fred as water sloshed over the side. "LEO, YOU'RE GOING TO SINK US!"
Fred was wheezing. "The beard—look at the beard! It's perfect!"
Leo immediately shifted back, gasping as the boat steadied.
Hagrid stared for a long moment.
Then he burst out laughing, the sound rolling across the lake like thunder.
"Oho! Handsome fella yeh turned into, eh?" he boomed. "Careful there, little feller—or you'll be swimmin' the rest o' the way!"
Cedric wiped tears from his eyes, breathless with laughter. "That was—Leo, that was incredible. Terrifying. But incredible."
The twins were already whispering excitedly.
Hagrid shot them a look. "Behave, the lot of yeh. Plenty o' time fer tricks after the Sorting."
Leo leaned back, heart pounding, hair already returning to its controlled black.
As Hogwarts grew closer, glowing brighter with every second, he felt something settle inside him.
Whatever awaited them beyond those doors—houses, rivalries, expectations—he knew one thing for certain.
He would be remembered.