 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Mrs. Charlie Weasley | Seneca's Beard | That's So Fetch
The Great Hall was unlike anything Ousmane had ever seen. The ceiling stretched infinitely above him, shimmering with stars that mirrored the night sky outside. The air buzzed with excitement and chatter, but it was the kind of noise that made Ousmane's chest tighten. His hands gripped the hem of his robes nervously as his name was called.
"Diomandé, Ousmane!"
He blinked and froze for a second, hearing his name in the unfamiliar accent. He shuffled forward, tall for his age and practically like a giant beside the first years, but unsteady as though his legs were still catching up to the rest of him. His palms felt clammy, and he wished, not for the first time since he and his parents had moved to Britain, that he could have his older sister here beside him.
The Sorting Hat was placed on his head, and he flinched as it spoke directly to him.
"Ah, an interesting one... Plenty of courage, yes, but so much kindness, too. I can see it all here in your head... Loyalty runs deep within you—there's a strong desire to honour your family and make them proud. There is dedication, an eagerness to learn, a readiness to work hard, though you carry a hint of uncertainty in yourself regarding which path you should take..."
Ousmane swallowed. He didn't know what to say as the battered, old hat continued, and even if he did, he wasn't sure he could find the words in English.
"English not your strongest suit yet, hmm? That's quite all right, young one. You'll grow here. And where better to nurture such qualities than... HUFFLEPUFF!"
The last word rang out loudly, and Ousmane blinked in surprise as the table with yellow and black banners erupted in cheers. Hufflepuff. He recognised the name. His sister had read about Hogwarts houses to him in French before he left Côte d'Ivoire. 'Les travailleurs, les loyaux,' she had said, grinning. The hard workers, the loyal ones.
As the Sorting Hat was lifted from his head, Ousmane let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. A small, tentative smile appeared on his face as he slid off the stool, straightened his robes, and began to walk toward the sea of yellow and black.
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