Albus Potter only stopped looking out the window at his father waving goodbye to him from Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters when the train had finally left the platform and started on its winding path along the tracks that would bring the students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When he did look away, it was slowly, and only in response to his cousin, Rose Weasley, calling to him from her place down the hall of the train.

"Al, come on! We'd better find a compartment!"

Albus turned to her, the excited smile he'd been giving his father through the window still hopelessly stuck to his features.

"Sorry, Rosie."

He hurried to catch up with her, able to move much faster now that his suitcase and his owl had been loaded into the luggage area. Although it had been awesome to buy Wendelin himself with the allowance he'd saved up so he wouldn't have to plead to borrow James's owl, Hawksworth, Albus thought it would probably be much more comfortable for her to sleep in the luggage compartment with the other owls. Plus it meant he didn't have to carry her cage around the train awkwardly.

"Oh, all full, all full," Rose lamented, giving a greatly miffed pout as she finished peeking into the compartment windows on either side of her. "I knew we should have gotten on sooner..."

"It'll be fine, Rosie," Albus reassured. He was glad he was able to stay on the platform a bit longer to say goodbye, especially for what his father had said. "If all else fails, we can try to find Victoire or Fred somewhere..."

The Weasley clan was amazing in its size. Since most of Molly and Arthur Weasley's children had been boys, they now had many grandchildren that held the Weasley name or at least, in the case of the Potter children, had the Weasley freckles. Albus could only imagine what it would be like to go to school with most of his cousins there; he fancied it would be awfully like a big family reunion, though without any parental supervision. Even if it were, however, he would still stand out - out of everyone in his family, only his father, Harry Potter, had the black hair, skinny frame, and almond-shaped green eyes that he had, since his older brother James and little sister Lily took more after his red-haired, brown-eyed mother, Ginny. In fact the only thing he shared with his siblings and most of his cousins, including his red-haired, blue-eyed cousin Rose, were the copious freckles all over his nose and face.

"What did you say to me, Potter?"

Albus gave an involuntary jump at the sound of his last name.

"You heard me," shot back a very familiar, brash voice. "If you want to talk about bad breeding, maybe you should look in the mirror; I don't think anyone really wants Death Eater pups."

Rose and Albus's attention shot to a compartment a little ways up that had a door open. Two tall and very intimidating-looking boys with dark hair and Slytherin ties hung back outside of it while another one (obviously Slytherin as well, though Albus couldn't see his face) stood just inside the doorway, talking to the people within.

"Oh no," Rose whispered, obviously also having recognized the obnoxious voice. "He's picking fights already? We haven't even gotten to school yet - "

"Shut your mouth, Potter," the first voice growled. His voice, which was low in his throat like that of a bullfrog, sounded a bit dangerous now.

Several laughs came from inside the compartment.

"'Shut your mouth, Potter!'" an unfamiliar voice mocked in a high-pitched voice that sounded like a rat's squeal.

The voice of the Slytherin inside the compartment did not sound amused. "Just because you think you're king of the school does not mean - "

"King? I wouldn't necessarily say that," the brash voice replied coolly. "A lord, maybe. Though of course hell of a lot better than the lord your family was groveling under - "

The two Slytherins outside the compartment rushed forward and grabbed the shoulders of the third, who had clearly made as if to take out his wand, and the laughter echoed again from inside the compartment.

"Good one, Jay!" another voice sneered through his laughter.

Albus swept past Rose, his face scrunched up with annoyance.

"James!"

The tall boys outside the compartment looked down at him; the surprise of him speaking, although it was apparent in their eyes, did not appear on their faces, which remained oddly blank. Now that Albus was closer, he could see the boy they were holding onto, a Slytherin with broad shoulders and a pair of very thick eyebrows over his very small, beady black eyes, as well as inside the compartment where James Potter and two other third-year Gryffindor boys were lounging.

Albus's older brother, in essence, was everything Albus was not. He was tall and strapping, and had messy scarlet hair, a pair of rectangular glasses casually resting on his long nose, and a cocky smile that made him resemble old pictures of his namesake, his and Albus's grandfather. While Albus was small and skinny with bony wrists, knobbly knees and smooth jet black hair, James already fit the perfect image of a Keeper, his position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, with his strong chest and thinly muscular arms. Even though he was only thirteen years old, the elder Potter boy was dashing, and confidence exuded from him as he slouched offhandedly in his seat.

James was only surprised to see Albus for a minute, and then reacted quite brightly.

"Hey there, Al! Was wondering when you were planning on getting on, I thought at first you decided to stay home so the thestrals wouldn't get you!"

The smaller of James's friends, who had dirty blond hair and a nose the size and color of a pink button, snickered as Rose dashed up beside Albus, her short bushy red hair flouncing a bit behind her.

The younger Potter, however, didn't laugh.

"Stop picking on peoples' families. You know Dad would be mad if he heard you."

The Slytherin with the bushy eyebrows glanced over, obviously in response to the mention of James's father; very often people couldn't guess Albus and James were brothers from looks and certainly not by temperament, so the slight surprise was predictable. Even so, Albus couldn't help but feel a bit awkward under his gaze, so he looked at James and nowhere else.

"Aw, shove off," said James. "Don't be a daddy's boy here, Al, it makes you look like a baby."

"And you look like a jolly old prat," Albus shot back, his face going a bit pink but his green eyes staying sharp. "Now quit it."

James exchanged an amused look with the dark-haired Gryffindor sitting across from him, before he, pressing his middle finger into the nose-piece of his glasses to adjust them on his face, grinned again at Albus.

"Geez, little bro, you really are getting into that whole thing about you being a Slytherin, you're already trying to stick up for them - "

The reminder of his teasing from earlier was enough to make Albus take out his new wand, even if he didn't know any spells that he could cast on James to make himself feel better. Rose, however, said, "No!", grabbing hold of Albus's arm and making him lower it before fixing James with a reproachful blue-eyed glare worthy of their Grandma Weasley.

"Gryffindors aren't supposed to be bullies, James. You're acting more like a Slytherin yourself right now - "

Unfortunately Rose said this before she could consider that, in fact, she was standing next to three very tall and very strong Slytherins - and naturally, they took offense at this.

"Is that so?" one of the Slytherins outside the compartment said, his tanned face almost harshly blank as he stared down the red-haired first year.

Rose's blue eyes went wide and terrified upon realizing what she'd said, and at once tried to apologize.

"I - I merely meant - "

"I suppose the Weasleys would know a great deal about how Slytherins behave," the tanned Slytherin said toward his friends rather sardonically.

"They would be expert in it," the boy next to him responded coldly, his icy blue eyes showing hatred on Rose rather than any kind of amusement. "Everyone is so determined to worship the filth that they are that they must be right in everything they think."

Bang.

A flare of red light zoomed right past Albus and hit the blue-eyed Slytherin right in the chest, knocking him roughly against the edge of the hallway. The two other Slytherins pulled out their wands and immediately made as if to retaliate as James's dark-haired friend pulled out his wand and shot a white spell that just grazed past the broad-shouldered Slytherin's left ear.

"What's going on here?"

At that moment Victoire Weasley came strolling down the hallway, already dressed in her robes adorned with Ravenclaw colors and a Head Girl badge. Her honey blond hair was cut into a manageable bob with bangs curling along either side of her pale, freckled face to frame her Weasley-brown eyes.

James immediately spoke up, his freckled face blazing with righteousness and his grip on his wand never slackening. "Slinkhard insulted our family."

"We did not start this," the tanned Slytherin retorted as he pulled up on his blue-eyed companion's arm to help him to his feet.

"You started it by coming in here, Alameen - " James's dark-haired friend snapped back.

"Whoever started it, you did not have to reciprocate."

Albus turned around to see another boy standing behind him. This one, dressed in Ravenclaw robes and a prefect badge, was taller than all of the other boys with a black ponytail and a slightly large nose that was almost a stain on an otherwise handsome face. His amber-brown eyes were so endless and cold when they brushed over Albus that the first-year couldn't help but shrink back a bit.

"I must say, Mr. Slinkhard," the prefect drawled, "I would have thought you, Mr. Alameen, and Mr. Macnair would act more maturely upon being insulted...especially considering you are fifth years. Of course - " he then rounded on James and his friends with a cold eye, " - I would have also thought that Mr. Dane and Mr. Shefter would be smart enough to not pick fights with older students. I can expect it of Mr. Potter, but I thought that two extra brains would be enough to fill the void in his head."

James flushed almost as red as his messy hair and reacted angrily, but Albus couldn't help but bite back a smile at his brother being reproached for what he did - he hated that Slinkhard had insulted his family, but James had been a real jerk.

"When we get to the castle," Victoire said seriously, "I will deduct five points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"What?" yelped James. "But we won't even have any points yet!"

"Then you'll be at five under," Victoire replied coolly. "And if I see you or your friends starting any more fights, James, I'll consider putting you at twenty-five under."

James looked as though he wanted to argue further, but knew it would only make him lose more points, and so he settled with grumbling under his breath.

"Just because I caught you and Teddy snogging at the station - "

"That has nothing to do with it and you know it," Victoire snapped, sounding angry for the first time as her face flushed a dark red. She then added to the three Slytherins a bit more sharply, "Move along and find a compartment, you three, go on."

Slinkhard, Alameen, and Macnair, with dirty scowls toward Victoire, moved past Albus, Rose and the Ravenclaw prefect, and continued down the hallway without another word.

"It really wasn't fair for you to take points off, Victoire," Rose said once they had gone, looking a bit meek. "It was my fault that it happened - if I hadn't insulted them - "

"Don't worry about it, Rosie," Victoire stopped her. With the departure of the fifth-year Slytherins and the ending of the conflict, her face gained a warm smile that made her more resemble the red-haired members of her family. "As Llyr said, they retaliated - that's just as bad."

Albus glanced upward toward the prefect called Llyr, who was still standing behind him, and couldn't keep himself from recoiling again when he looked down at him.

"So this is the younger Potter, hmm?" the older boy inquired. His amber-brown eyes were so unreadable they were almost hollow.

"Yup, that's my brother!" James said proudly, giving a big, cheesy grin despite himself.

James's dark-haired friend, the one presumably called Shefter, poked his head out of the compartment to look at Albus better. "He looks scrawnier than I would've thought - I know you said he was small, Jay, but I figured he'd be at least a little bigger than a Pygmy Puff."

Albus went red and fixed him with his most indignant glare as the button-nosed boy called Dane sniggered in response. Seemed James's friends were just as much bullies as he was.

But Llyr didn't pay any mind to the third-year Gryffindors. Instead he kept his focus on Albus and, after a moment, his mouth curled up in a rather handsome smile.

"Victoire has told me that you are less of a troublemaker than your brother," he said, "so I suppose I can hope that we'll be on pleasant terms, Mr. Potter, whichever house you end up in."

It was strange to Albus, being called "Mr. Potter", as that title was usually reserved for his father. Still, it seemed at least that Llyr was a friend of Victoire's, and so he offered his best, brightest smile in return.

"Y - yeah!"

He certainly didn't want to be on this prefect's bad side, after all.

Llyr then brought his hollow eyes around to study Rose. "And you must be Ron Weasley's daughter, yes?"

He glanced at Victoire as if check to check that this was true, and the Head Girl gave a nod of assent.

"You know me?" Rose asked, a bit surprised.

"Victoire has understandably mentioned her family a few times in the seven years I've known her," Llyr answered lightly. "And of course both of your parents are rather well-known in the Ministry of Magic."

"Ah - yes."

Rose looked as though she was sheepishly thinking she should have guessed that.

Victoire, smiling slightly at Llyr, then brought her hands onto her and Albus's shoulders.

"Well, come along, then," she said. "The others are in a compartment at the far end of the train. I'll have to patrol the hallways with the other prefects and Winslow - that's our Head Boy, he's a good chap - but I'll check on you in a little bit, all right?"

"All right," Rose and Albus said in unison.

As they walked off, they heard James call after them, "See you at school, you two! Look out for the Giant Squid!"

"Giant Squid?" repeated Albus.

"In the Hogwarts lake," Rose replied smartly. "If we'll be going in the boats when we get there, I suppose we'll see it - Dad said sometimes the Squid overturns boats, but I'm pretty sure he was kidding - "

The two first years, black-haired and red-haired, squeezed past a duo of fourth-year Hufflepuff girls on their way toward the far end of the train. Albus glanced absently into the windows of the full compartments as they passed them - gosh, a lot of them seemed overly full, was it normal for girls to be sitting in their friends' laps on the Hogwarts Express? - and couldn't help but wonder where the other first years were.

Albus stopped a bit abruptly, backtracking to a compartment that he'd given only a short glance. Through the window, the compartment looked empty except for one lone small figure.

"Hold on, this compartment only has one person in it - I think it's a first year!"

Rose doubled back and curiously peeked through the hazed-up window. Almost at once, though, the interest left her face, to be replaced with dullness.

"We don't want to sit with him, Al," she said. "That's Malfoy's son."

Albus blinked. "The one that Uncle Ron mentioned?"

He'd seen Mr. Malfoy a few times before, mostly at Ministry Christmas functions that he, James and Lily were dragged to by their parents. He'd never seen him talk to his parents - which Uncle Ron said was appropriate considering he had been a Death Eater and was a "good-for-nothing git" - in fact, Mr. Malfoy didn't seem to talk to much of anyone at all.

"Scorpius is his name, I think," Rose said, looking quite disapproving of the fellow first year. "I'm sure he'll be in Slytherin - his father was too, they look just like each other."

Albus sneaked a better look through the window, his nose pressing up against the glass as he looked in.

He supposed the boy in the compartment did have more than a passing similarity to his pale, gray-eyed father, but his light blond hair was a lot looser and wavier than Mr. Malfoy's. The boy's posture was only modestly straight, lacking any of his father's rigidity, and he currently had a pair of small glasses resting on his nose as he read a book, his eyes boring into the page with absolute focus. Really, aside from him being all by himself like his father often seemed to be, the two Malfoys seemed quite different.

Albus came away from the window with a mellow look on his face. "People say I look like my dad too, Rosie. Looks don't mean much."

"That's different," Rose insisted. "Your father is a great man and his is - well - he's just sure to be trouble!"

"Sure," Albus answered a bit sarcastically, "he'll no doubt read us all to death."

Rose pretended to ignore this and started again down the hall.

"Come on, we better go find the others - oof!"

She had moved before looking where she was going, and in doing so had collided with someone walking the opposite direction.

"Ah - sorry!" said the stranger. "Guess I should have been looking where I was going..."

Stumbling backward, Rose looked up at perhaps the strangest girl Albus had ever seen in his life.

Although she wore first-year robes, she was quite gangly, towering a good half-a-foot over Albus, who was likewise several inches taller than Rose. Her messy pigtails and eyebrows were as pitch black as Albus's, but it couldn't have been natural, considering how starkly the color sat against her pale skin and her bright blue eyes, outlined with dark eyeshadow and eyeliner that made her look like she had two black eyes. She had several stickers on her face, including a heart-shaped one on the apple of her left cheek and a star by the corner of her smiling mouth, which was marked in pale and unnatural-looking lavender lipstick. Her black-painted nails looked like tiny beetles on the ends of her long, bony fingers and from her ears dangled a large pair of bright pink skull earrings. Even with how dark her appearance was, however, the girl's face was as alight and cheerful as a happy toddler's.

"I was just so caught up in my book," the girl continued pleasantly, holding up the paperback book she'd been reading in explanation and not seeming to care that Rose was left speechless by her appearance. "You know how it is, when you get so close to the end that you just can't put it down? I can't even really look for a compartment all that well, I've been so distracted by it - I'm Sam Fina!"

She cheerfully offered a hand to Rose as if to shake hands. On her fingers were several cheap, plastic rings, all of which had shades appropriate to colored highlighters.

Rose looked down at Sam's hand dumbly, at first not quite sure how to reply. Albus gave her a light poke in the ribs, and finally she extended a freckled hand to shake it.

"Rose - Rose Weasley."

"Weasley..."

Sam absently shook Rose's hand as she considered the name, as if trying to remember if she'd heard of it.

Her face then lit up again.

"Ah, right! The woman at the Leaky Cauldron mentioned the name Weasley - Percy Weasley, I think! Is that your dad, then?"

"No, he's - my uncle," Rose replied awkwardly as she finally detached her hand from Sam's. "My dad is Ron Weasley."

Sam gave a strangely excited smile that made her heavily stenciled eyes go as bright as a car's headlights. "The Weasleys must be a big wizard family, then! That must be awfully exciting - I don't know many wizards, you see, my parents were Muggles - 'Mudblood' would be your term for me, right?"

Rose and Albus were horrified by this question, and stumbled over each other trying to correct her.

"N - no, no, that's certainly not it - "

"That's not right at all - "

"That word wouldn't be what we'd - "

"We'd call you Muggle-born," Albus finished at last, very firmly. "A Muggle-born student."

Sam seemed curious as to why they were stammering so much, but took more interest in Albus's answer.

"'Muggle-born' - ah, well, that works! It certainly matches the word 'Muggle' a lot better than 'Mudblood', but some other first-year girls near the front of the train called me it, so I thought that was what we were called - guess they must have made a mistake. Maybe they're Muggle-born too!"

Sam gave a short, strangled laugh that sounded like a yowling cat just as a toddler decided to jump on its back and flatten it against the floor.

"Well, I think I'll just sit down somewhere and finish my book - see you at the Sorting, Rose!"

With this, she yanked open the door to the compartment Malfoy was sitting in. The opening of the door visibly startled the blond boy, making him jump a bit as his eyes shot up to Sam.

"Hi there!" she greeted cheerfully. "Mind if I sit here?"

For a moment Albus wondered if Malfoy was going to tell her to get out. After a brief moment, however, he shook his head silently, and Sam immediately took the cue to shut the compartment door and plop down on the seat across from him.

Rose, looking immensely relieved that the strange girl was now Malfoy's problem, exhaled very loudly before starting up the hallway again.

Albus watched Rose walk down the train-car and gave one more glance inside the compartment where he expected to see both Sam and Malfoy reading in intense silence.

When he did, he was startled to see Malfoy looking up from his book and right at him. His gray eyes weren't exactly hostile, but they were still penetrating enough to make one anxious.

Albus gave a weak smile through the compartment window, before hurrying to catch up with Rose at the end of the train. She had opened up a door, obviously having found the rest of the Weasleys.

"There you are, Rosie!" came the voice of Fred. "We were wondering where you and Al had gone off to - "

"Well, it would have been good if you'd made some friends with the other first years," the voice of Lucy pointed out diplomatically. "But it is good to see you, anyway - where's Albus?"

At that moment the dark-skinned face of Fred poked out of the compartment. He grinned seeing Albus coming down the hallway toward them.

"Ah, there he is, there he is - come on in, Al, we got us a nice bunch of stuff from the trolley!"

Albus followed Rose into the compartment so as to join their cousins. As Fred had hinted, the cushioned benches were nearly covered with stacks of Chocolate Frogs, boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, tied bunches of Licorice Wands, and all other manner of magical sweets. Albus rather thought it made it look like his cousins were drowning in junk food.

"Did you really need to buy this much?" asked Rose, trying to bite back a smile.

"Well, what else was I supposed to do with the allowance I saved up?" Fred asked in return.

He and his second-year sister, Roxanne, were the only Weasleys without freckles, standing out even more than Albus with their coffee-colored skin and curly black hair. Fred's hair was a trimmed ball of fuzz on his head, while Roxanne's was a large, shoulder-length mane around her face. Appropriate to their parents George and Angelina, both of them wore Gryffindor robes.

"It's a better idea than trying to put it in your Gringotts account so you can save up for your future," Roxanne teased her brother, acting as though she were three years older than him rather than a year younger.

Shoving aside a bunch of Pumpkin Pasties, Albus picked up a Chocolate Frog and moved to sit next to Roxanne with a grin.

"Isn't there supposed to be a big feast when we get to Hogwarts? That's what Dad told me."

"Yeah, there is," assented Dominique, the eldest Weasley in the compartment, as she took a large bite out of a Cauldron Cake that her mother Fleur would have greatly disapproved of. "But it's a long train ride - it's better to buy too much and save it for later than be stuck waiting for dinner."

Like her older sister Victoire, the sixteen-year-old Dominique had brown eyes, robes adorned with Ravenclaw colors, and a pale, freckled face, but her blond hair was long and silky and she was willowy enough that she looked quite a bit more Delacour than Weasley. She also had a voice that hinted Delacour more than Weasley, one that sat very lightly at the top of her throat, which could hint to the small amount of Veela blood in her.

"Not if it makes you sick," Lucy chastised lightly with a laugh.

Percy's younger daughter, who was the only Hufflepuff in the Weasley family and was starting her fourth year, had brown hair just as dark as Dominique's hair was light and tied into a large braid that ran down her back. The blue eyes that sat behind her rectangular glasses were identical in color and shape to her father's, but held a sweeter and softer light that made her look younger than she actually was.

Albus bit into his Chocolate Frog and pocketed the Agrippa card that had been inside the wrapping. Perhaps when he got to the castle, he could let Wendelin out and send the card to Lily with a letter to his parents. At the very least, it might make her feel better about not being able to come with him and James to Hogwarts - at least until she randomly decided to be upset about it again.

As she sat down next to Dominique, Rose glanced around the compartment.

"...Where's Molly?" she asked after a moment.

"Prefect duty," answered Roxanne. "Prefects have to patrol the hallways during the first half of the train ride, so I guess we'll be seeing her later."

"If she doesn't spend the entire ride with the other prefects," Fred scoffed slightly. "You know how much she loves bossing everyone around..."

Albus knew. Lucy's older sister Molly, who was a sixth-year Gryffindor, became a prefect like Victoire had in her fifth year, but unlike Victoire, Molly was bossy and very much liked being in charge and took the chance to do so whenever she could. Uncle George often compared her to her father, Percy, as a kid, who had also been a prefect and a stickler for the rules. Albus never knew Molly to tell people to do things without a good reason, but he could absolutely see her enjoying the power of a prefect as well as its duties.

Lucy crossed her arms, her eyes very patient even through her amused smile. "'Bossing people around' is part of her job, Fred. Besides, she has good reason to be happy about what she does...being a prefect is special."

"Only if it helps get us out of trouble, if you ask me," drawled Fred, lounging back in an attitude that reminded Albus of James.

"Prefects are not supposed to be your ticket out of detention," Dominique said coolly, her brown eyes narrowing just slightly.

"Maybe not, but it certainly helps, doesn't it?" Fred answered with a playful grin. "And hey, people can't really expect you to sell out your own family - "

Again the memory of James mocking Macnair, Slinkhard, and Alameen panged through Albus's mind, and he gave a greatly disapproving frown.

"You shouldn't be let off just because your family catches you doing something - that's pathetic."

He at once felt as though he'd been a bit harsh, as his cousins all looked at him with surprise. His face flushed the color of a beet.

"Well, I mean, think about it - what if some - some really nasty family had a kid, and that kid became a prefect or Head Boy or Head Girl - you'd think that they were pretty nasty blighters if they favored their family over everyone else, or their house over everyone else..."

He broke off, feeling embarrassed, and leaned over to grab another Chocolate Frog so he could be distracted by unwrapping it.

Lucy came to his rescue.

"You're absolutely right, Albus," she agreed gently. "It would be incredibly unfair."

Fred and Roxanne were frowning slightly, but did not vocally disagree; Dominique and Rose, however, gave Albus slight smiles as well.

"Ha, with that kind of attitude," said Dominique around the Licorice Wand dangling from her mouth, "maybe you'll end up in Hufflepuff, Albus."

"I don't know about that," Roxanne argued. "Rosie and Al are both pretty bright, I could see them in Ravenclaw."

"Rosie, maybe, but mostly logical sorts go to Ravenclaw," Fred commented lightly. "Al can get real wussy - 'specially if James riles him up."

Albus stuck his tongue out at Fred, but gave a slight smile anyway as he bit into the new Chocolate Frog. "...Well, it would probably be best if I were in Gryffindor, right?"

"Not really," Dominique replied, turning her blond head to frown at Albus. "Why would you think it would be best?"

"Not because of Uncle Ron, I hope," Lucy added, looking dismayed.

"No, no, not really - " Albus said quickly, choking down the rest of his chocolate so he could answer, "Just - well, my dad was in Gryffindor and he's - anyway, I don't really care - as long as I'm not in Slytherin," he finished somewhat lamely.

Roxanne grinned a white grin that shone starkly against her dark skin. "Well, you won't have to worry about that, Al - only prats go to Slytherin."

Rose, however, looked a little more thoughtful as she looked at Albus.

"...Why would you think that you'd be in Slytherin anyway, Al?" she inquired at last.

Albus was visibly startled by this question.

"Oh, no reason," he denied at once, giving his best winning smile.

But his reddening face slightly betrayed that statement. In an attempt to make it less obvious, Albus looked away from his cousins and tried to casually focus on eating the rest of his Chocolate Frog.

In all honesty, there was a very good reason why he thought it, but it'd been something he hadn't wanted to mention to anyone. It was bad enough that James knew about it and had decided to torment him in response - he didn't want to think about what anyone else would think, if James decided to blab.

The memory of himself entering Ollivander's wand shop with James as his escort rippled over his mind again. Ollivander had gone through many wands to find one that might suit him - even trying wands similar to James's and to his father's, to no avail - it had been among the last of his wands that he finally found the one that flooded the entire room with light when Albus touched it.

Absently Albus found his wand inside his left jean pocket, his fingers sliding over the black wood of the magical instrument.

Ebony and unicorn hair, eleven-and-a-half inches, temperamental - the wand in itself was rather standard, looking no different and being built no differently than any other Ollivander wand. Nonetheless there was something odd about it, something that Ollivander had mentioned to him when he had asked why the wand-maker was so reluctant to sell him the wand.

Although the ingredients came from different sources, Albus's wand was the exact same measurement and made of the exact same materials as the wand of Severus Snape.

When the Hogwarts Express finally stopped at Hogsmeade station, the sky and the dark clouds therein were only slightly touched by the last few pink rays of the setting sun. With one final squeaky toot, the Express screeched to a halt, and the students started to exit the scarlet train.

Albus, now dressed in the black robes that he had bought in Diagon Alley, followed his Weasley cousins off the train, glancing out the window as he went to get at least a partial look at the village they'd arrived in through the smoke of the train and the crowds of students already bustling around the platform. The station was decorated with violet garlands dusted with twinkling gold stars, perhaps some kind of welcome to the arriving students, and the little bit of Hogsmeade that Albus could see was lit up by many small lights, highlighting the many windows of the businesses and homes in the village.

As he passed an open window, the black-haired boy could hear a gruff voice outside the train calling, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

"That'd be Hagrid," Albus said to Rose with a grin.

He jumped down the steps off of the train and looked for Hagrid. It didn't take long to find him, considering that the gray-bearded half-giant towered over everyone easily.

"Firs' years! C'mon, firs' years, don' be shy!"

Waving goodbye to their Weasley cousins as they went to go join their friends in the carriages, Albus and Rose squeezed through the crowd to gather with the other first-years.

"Hagrid!" Albus called ahead when they were about six feet away.

At the sight of Harry Potter's younger son, Hagrid immediately beamed, his large face entirely wrinkling up with his smile.

"Ah, there y' are, Al! I was tryin' to catch sight o' you."

His beetle-black eyes twinkled fondly. "'Course, it was a little difficult...yeh look so much like yer dad, I though' I was twenty-five years younger fer a minute."

He brought a giant hand down to ruffle Albus's hair; Albus felt like his whole body was being shaken in the process.

"An' Rosie! Gosh, yeh look like yer mother, how did yeh grow up so fast?"

When Hagrid removed his hand, Albus couldn't help but instinctively brush his hair out of his face so it could lie flat again. As he did so, he noticed three particularly short girls who had just come up toward the group of first-years.

They were huddled so close together they looked almost like the three-headed runespoor snake that Albus had read about in his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. The first head had a plump face framed by a mass of dark brown curls, the second had thick dirty-blond hair and a sharply pointed nose, and the last had her lank, dull brown locks tied back with what looked like a large pale pink bow strung through a lace doily. From their guarded body language and the distance they put between themselves and their peers, it almost seemed like they were trying to somehow stay with and yet outside the group at the same time. Albus wondered for a brief moment if they thought all the other first-years had some horribly contagious disease they didn't want to catch, until he saw the girl with the doily in her hair shoot a look at Hagrid that seemed visibly condescending.

The young Potter frowned in their direction, but it didn't make much of a difference since they weren't looking at him.

"Well, come alon', then!" Hagrid brightened up at once as he looked around at the gathered first-years. "Follow me, you lot - this way t' th' boats!"

He turned and started trudging past the train rails down a narrow dirt path away from the station, and the first-year students strolled quickly at his heels to keep up with him.

As they moved further through the little grove of dark trees, Albus glanced around at the group of about fifty kids around him.

At the far back of the crowd was Malfoy, his pale, pointed face proud and focused despite the visible berth between him and the rest of his classmates. Not far away from Rose two boys, one with messy auburn hair and a bulbous nose and the other with bright blond hair and a slightly orange tan, were animatedly debating under their breath whether or not the Appleby Arrows would make a comeback after their appalling Quidditch season. When he faced forward again, Albus quickly noticed the strange girl from the train, Sam Fina, strolling alongside Hagrid, her face holding none of the fear or hesitation that the short trio of girls had shown - she instead seemed to be very focused on the lump bustling around inside one of Hagrid's moleskin coat pockets.

"Do you have a pet toad?" Albus caught her asking.

"Toad? Aw, nah," Hagrid denied jovially. "Jus' a little somethin' fer me lessons."

He brought a large hand into his pocket to fish out what looked like a gray lobster with green spots speckled all over its shell. It was lucky that the half-giant was hanging onto it by its tail; it was swinging every which way trying to grab at him with its claws.

"A Mackled Malacaw," he told the instantly interested Sam. "Funny little bugga - plan t' show it t' me third-year class, I reckon they'll get a kick outta 'im - "

Albus couldn't help but think that the class would like it fine as long as they didn't have to worry about being pinched.

A chocolate-haired boy with a smile that dwarfed his other features pushed lightly past Albus to see the Malacaw better.

"Wicked! So that's for the Care of Magical Creatures class?"

"Yep, tha's righ' - ah-ah-ah, don' touch!" Hagrid yanked it back when the boy extended a hand as if to try to touch it. "One pinch from one o' these guys an' th' next week yeh'll have summa th' worse luck you've eva had in yer life! Yeh're gonna hafta wait fer third year, boy..."

Albus reaffirmed the thought that Hagrid's third-year class would like the Malacaw just as long as it didn't pinch them.

Rose seemed to agree, for she spoke up at that moment with a frown meekly twisting onto her freckled features.

"Shouldn't you tie up their claws, then, Hagrid...so that no one gets hurt?"

Hagrid chuckled. "Aw, Rosie, no one's gonna get hurt - as I said, all the claws're gonna do is give you bad luck, they ain't gonna kill yeh."

"Not unless you're unlucky enough to get in a situation that kills you," Albus thought he heard a voice mutter behind him. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Malfoy walk to the right of the group just past him. Even with his movement, though, the berth between the blond-haired boy and the other first-years seemed not to shift.

Merlin, does he think he's better than everyone else or something? Albus couldn't help but think.

At that moment, however, a great "Ooooh!" from some of the other first-years made him look ahead again. Squeezing a bit between Hagrid and Sam Fina, he could see what had prompted the outcry.

They had arrived at the lake, which had many small boats lit with golden lanterns lined up along the shore, and across the rippling dark water, on the high mountain overlooking it, was Hogwarts castle, its spiraling turrets arching up as if to touch the first few stars to dot the evening sky. All of the castle's many stone towers had lights in their windows, as had the windows of Hogsmeade village, and the flickering dots of gold almost seemed to wink in greeting at the awed group of first-years.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, gesturing to the boats with his large hand brusquely even if he couldn't help but beam at the children's reactions. "Come on, now, in yeh go!"

Albus quickly shot out of his reverie in time for the students behind him to abruptly shove past him to grab a place in the boats. Many of them were taller than him, and so he ended up being tossed about in the large crowd like a sock in a washing machine.

When he finally pushed his way out, he ran over to catch up with Rose, who had already climbed into a boat with the brown-haired boy who had been interested in the Mackled Malacaw.

"Come on and sit here, Al!" said Rose.

The brown-haired boy shifted over to let him in, a large grin taking up most of his face.

"Hey there!" he greeted, grabbing hold of Albus's hand to shake it with a lot of vigor. "Name's Kevin, Kevin Wood - and you'd be Al?"

Albus nodded awkwardly, smiling as sincerely as he could as he detached his hand from the overly cheerful handshake.

"Y - yeah - nice to meet you."

He didn't really feel like saying his last name in return - people tended to treat James, Lily, and him funny when they knew their name was Potter, likely because of how famous their dad was.

"No, boy, yeh can't sit in a boat by yehself, there ain't enough fer tha' - I'm sure there's someone who'll let yeh sit with 'em, if yeh jus' ask nicely - "

Albus turned around to see Malfoy standing next to Hagrid. Rose looked over too and at once looked disdainful.

"Looks like Malfoy thinks he's too good to sit with normal people,"she scorned coldly.

Albus had thought the same thing considering how Hagrid had answered, but at that moment Malfoy, despite a great reluctance in his face, went up to the boat with the three small girls in it and asked very quietly,

"May I sit with you?"

The chubby girl with the curly black-brown hair shot a fearful look at the other two. The girl with the doily in her hair gave Malfoy a look more suitable for a squashed bug.

"No," she said very coldly.

There was a mutter between the students. Hagrid looked quite startled.

"Wha - ?"

"We don't want him in our boat," the girl reiterated.

The half-giant frowned deeply. "Aw, c'mon, lass - that's no way t' treat one o' yer classmates!"

"He's no classmate of ours," the sharp-nosed girl with dirty-blond hair retorted coldly. "He's nothing but a traitor - just like his traitor father!"

Hagrid, not used to his authority being questioned, acted very awkward.

"C'mon now, yeh don' hafta be judgin' his fam'ly - yeh don' hafta be friends with him, yeh just have t' share a boat with him fer a couple o' minutes - "

"I'm not sharing anything with him!" spat the sharp-nosed girl.

It seemed like a lot of the other first-years were echoing that sentiment, considering the looks on their faces and the cluster of arguing voices that popped up in response - yet despite this, Malfoy never lost the proud straightness in his posture, even though his averted gray eyes betrayed the hurt that he refused to blatantly show on his face.

Albus felt a rush of sympathy despite himself, and before he knew it, he had shouted over the rising crescendo of voices.

"He can sit here!"

Everyone turned around to look at him, their faces taken aback.

"Al, what are you doing?" Rose hissed at him.

His freckled face burning, Albus avoided Rose's eyes and instead looked at Malfoy, who had turned to face him out of surprise.

"You can sit here, Malfoy. ...There's room for one more," he finished a bit stupidly.

Malfoy studied Albus for a long, long moment, his gray eyes boring into him with something not unlike suspicion. Albus couldn't help but swallow uncomfortably at the harshness of the stare, but he refused to blink. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

Then, rather like when Sam Fina had asked to sit in his compartment, Malfoy gave a silent nod, and slowly walked over. Glancing at Kevin, who looked a little awkward, and Rose, who deliberately avoided eye contact with him, the pale boy climbed into the boat and settled down next to Albus without a word.

Hagrid, looking immensely relieved that the problem had been resolved, clapped his hands.

"Ah! Very good, very good - all righ' now, time t' get movin' - "

Bustling over to the shore, he climbed into his own boat, the largest of them with a red-colored lantern hanging from it.

"FORWARD!" he shouted cheerfully.

All at once, the little boats began to move across the lake with about as much up-and-down movement as a toy boat being dragged across a laminate floor. The water of the lake under them, endless with how dark it was, captured the reflections of the students still looking with great awe at the castle above. Albus couldn't keep the biggest of smiles from unfurling on his face at the sight, entertained simply by looking over the large towers and counting how many twinkling lights were in the windows. It was even better than he had imagined it in his mind while hearing stories from his father and James.

The first boats came up upon a cliff; Hagrid yelled, "Heads down!" at the first-years, and they all ducked as they moved through a curtain of ivy to enter a cave in the large mountain that supported Hogwarts. Through the tunnel they went, the light of their lanterns guiding them through the black, until at last they reached the end, in the form of a miniature dock made of stone.

The boats stopped by themselves, and Albus got to his feet, stumbling to climb out of the boat. Rose, Malfoy, and Kevin followed after him, and they and he joined the gathered bunch of first-years beside Hagrid. Up through a passageway they went, and suddenly they were on grass, strolling up to the castle that they had only just before stared at from across the lake.

It looks even bigger from up close, Albus thought to himself, before considering that that was a stupidly obvious thing to have thought.

Up some stone stairs was the castle's front door, large and made of oak, upon which Hagrid gave a great KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK with his large fist.

At once, the door opened, and Albus's heart leaped at the sight of a familiar face.

Dressed in a handsome set of gold-trimmed brown robes was a young man slightly short for his age with a plump, friendly face, a large, thin nose, and deep dirty-blond hair. His dark brown eyes were small, but they twinkled brightly at the sight of Hagrid and the young students.

"There you are, Hagrid!" Neville Longbottom greeted. "I was starting to think that something had happened."

"We hadda...little problem a' th' start," Hagrid admitted, adjusting his feet in a slightly awkward manner.

"Well, no harm done," Longbottom replied.

He took his wand out from inside his robes, turning his head to smile at the students.

"I'll take you from here. This way, first-years!"

With a light tap-tap of his wand on the oak, the door opened wide to reveal the large stone entrance hall, trimmed with flaming torches and a high, domed ceiling.

Longbottom turned around and started to walk through the hall, and the first-year students followed him in, their footsteps clapping against the stone of the floors. They went up a staircase, trying to stay together, and finally stopped in front of a massive pair of double doors. In the wood was carved many shapes of lions, eagles, badgers, and serpents, all enclosed in the winding vines that framed each of the panels of the humongous doors.

"Welcome!" said Longbottom, as he turned again to look at the students. "I am Professor Longbottom, Deputy Headmaster and Herbology professor here at Hogwarts. You might remember me from your Hogwarts letter."

A few students did - Sam's eyes seemed to have lit up at once, and the plump black-haired girl from the runespoor trio shifted slightly at the sound of the name - but most of the students glanced at each other, seemingly unsure.

Longbottom, however, didn't seem to mind; rather, his buck-toothed smile widened a bit.

"I only said you might, I don't mind if you don't."

The students that hadn't recognized his name visibly relaxed, smiling in return. Longbottom then continued,

"All right - in here is the Great Hall. All of the other students and teachers are already inside, but before you can join them, and before we can start dinner, you have to be sorted into your houses. While you're here, your house will be like your family - you'll eat with them, sleep with them, have classes with them, and spend a lot of your time with them. If you do well here, you'll earn points for your house...and if you break rules, you'll lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup - take it from me, it's awfully fun to win."

"How will we know who's winning?" asked Kevin, who seemed to love the idea of winning something.

"We have four hourglasses to keep track of things," Longbottom answered.

He gave a sweeping gesture to a set of four large hourglasses hung up on the wall next to the doors, all of which had a house name written above them, gems enchanted to stay in the top half, and a golden plaque on the base that said how many points each house had. In the one marked Gryffindor, the gems were rubies, in Hufflepuff tiny gold nuggets, in Ravenclaw sapphires, and in Slytherin emeralds. Albus noticed that Gryffindor and Slytherin's plaques both had "-5" chiseled into them and thought that Victoire must have already gotten approval to discipline James and the three fifth-year Slytherin boys.

"Two of our houses already lost some points because people were picking fights on the train," Longbottom stated simply, in response to some of the kids looking confused. "So try to keep your tempers, all right?"

He cleared his throat, and then smiled again.

"Now you all wait here for a moment - I'll come back when we're ready for you. Try not to wander off!"

With that he opened one of the doors, giving only a fleeting peek at the candlelit Hall within, before walking in and closing the door behind him.

The students at once started chattering, the different conversations fumbling over each other so that the group of kids sounded like a buzzing beehive.

Albus felt his stomach drop a few inches. He'd been really excited to see the castle and even to be inside it, but the reminder of being Sorted seemed to make all of the nerves he'd had on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters flood him all over again.

Someone put a hand on his shoulder. Albus nearly jumped in response, but upon turning around, he saw it was only Rose and instantly relaxed.

"Just about time, then, huh?" said the redhead, offering a weak smile.

"Yeah," Albus muttered. After a moment, he added, "...Are you nervous?"

"Incredibly," assented Rose under her breath.

"Aw, you shouldn't be nervous!" said Kevin, butting into their conversation. "Meeting everyone is sure to be fun...and all of the houses sound pretty cool!"

"All except Slytherin, you mean," said the blond-haired boy with the orange tan who had been debating Quidditch on the platform with another boy.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Kevin quickly corrected himself. "I thought that was a given, though."

"What's so bad about Slytherin?" Sam piped up curiously.

A lot of the students turned to look at her, most with a visibly condescending way. Albus, however, felt uncomfortable.

"It's evil, that's what!" said a tiny boy with a slight overbite.

"All Dark wizards come from Slytherin," a boy with skin slightly darker than Fred and Roxanne's chipped in.

"And all Slytherins are great big cowardly prats," added a girl with a bright blond ponytail.

"Is that so?"

Albus turned around toward the runespoor trio of girls, all of whom looked annoyed.

"Are they cowardly because they don't waste their time saving people all the time," continued the brown-haired girl, "or is it because they're actually smart enough to not get themselves killed?"

"Who asked you anyway, Nott?" snapped the dark-skinned boy.

"Yeah, we all know where you're going to end up," the boy with the orange tan agreed coldly.

"Nott"...Albus thought the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite remember where he'd heard it. Fortunately for him, Rose did.

"Her father works in the Department of Magical Transportation," she muttered at Albus. "Theodore Nott. Her grandfather was a Death Eater."

As soon as his cousin mentioned Theodore Nott, Albus remembered one of the few people that had bothered to talk to Mr. Malfoy at a Ministry Christmas function one year - a very tall and weedy gentleman with a leer-like smile and lank dull brown hair. As soon as he thought of the man, he could see the resemblance between him and the girl with the doily in her hair.

"Perhaps it is obvious," the girl with thick dirty-blond hair next to Nott shot back as she straightened up proudly, "but we'll take pride in it all the same - especially if it means we won't be stuck with filth like you, Cottingley."

Cottingley brought an orange hand up as if to take out his wand, but the auburn-haired boy he'd been talking to earlier grabbed onto his arm.

"Doyle, no," he said firmly, before glancing at the runespoor trio with immature reproach in his face. "We don't need to start a fight in the middle of the entrance hall."

"We don't start fights," the dirty-blond-haired girl answered coolly. "We only finish them - if they're worthy of being finished."

"Then I suppose Muggle-borns started the Second War, Mulciber?" retorted the girl with the blond ponytail. "I guess in your family's alternative history, they were just pleading to get killed off."

A crowd of voices jeered agreement in response, but before the three girls or anyone else could make another point, Professor Longbottom interrupted the argument with his return.

He glanced around at the gathered students as they fell silent - from the look in his eyes, Albus could guess he figured out that there was nearly a fight. Even if he did, however, the professor chose not to mention it.

"Well, come along, then!" he said brightly, offering a smile as he gestured toward the door to the Great Hall. "We're waiting for you."

The double doors swung open, and the first-year students quickly moved to form a messy line so that they could follow Professor Longbottom as he strode inside.

If the outside of the castle had been marvelous, the Great Hall was breathtaking. Warmth rippled through the entire room, from the golden candles hovering in mid air around them, to the highly arched ceiling enchanted to resemble the night sky over their heads, to the four long golden-brown House tables filled with the older students. Albus could see Victoire smiling at him from her place next to her prefect friend Llyr at the Ravenclaw table, Lucy showed him and Rose a pair of crossed fingers from the Hufflepuff table, and at the Gryffindor table he could see Roxanne and Fred waving madly at him and Rose.

At the front of the Hall was a platform, on which sat a long table for the teachers so that they could look ahead at the students below. Most of the professors were dressed in dark red, green, or blue robes, except for the man sitting at the middle of the table in the Headmaster's chair. The man, who was dressed in crisp white robes, was a tall, large-chested man with chubby limbs and a bald spot framed by graying brown hair on the top of his head.

"That'd be Kimball, right?" Albus whispered to Rose.

"I think so," answered Rose.

Meyer Kimball was the man replacing the previous Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, as head of Hogwarts this year. Mr. Potter had said that he was an Obliviator for the Ministry who had been recommended as the elderly McGonagall's successor by the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt - James had said that unless he was as strict as McGonagall, he intended to have as much fun as he possibly could while under his roof.

Just in front of the platform where the teachers' table sat, Albus could see from his view around Longbottom a four-legged stool with an very old, frayed, burned wizard's hat sitting on it.

If his father hadn't told him about the Sorting Hat, he would never have thought that the brown pointed hat littered with charcoal burns, tears, and patches could be anything important.

The students came to a stop, coming around to look at the ugly hat on the stool. Several of the students, likely Muggle-borns, looked anxiously at the hat as if unsure of what to do with it.

A silence echoed through the hall for a few moments.

Then the Sorting Hat gave an abrupt twitch, tore open a seem near the brim, and started to sing through that new tear of a mouth.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts school,
All those returning this year,
And to those beginners, I greet you
With appropriate Hogwarts cheer.
Soon you will receive a home,
As Professor Longbottom has said;
That home will come not from my choice,
But from a look inside your head.
I will hear your thoughts and see your dreams,
But do not hesitate:
What will matter most in my decision
Is where you'll be most great.
Maybe in Gryffindor, the lions' den,
Where the fiery bold reside;
In Gryffindor, you will find friends
Who from danger never hide.
Or perhaps the eagles' roost, Ravenclaw,
Will be your smartest place;
In a contest of sharp wit and logic,
Ravenclaws win the race.
In Hufflepuff, however,
You will find a loyal mate;
Underneath your feet those badgers
Work hard and show no hate.
But also there is Slytherin,
Home of cunning cleverness;
Your serpent friends fight for their dreams
And accept nothing less.
So there are your paths - mark them well
When my song is dead and gone.
Each house will be greater with you;
Come up and try me on!"

The end of the song was met with great applause from the five tables; most of the first-year students started clapping too upon seeing the older students and teachers doing so, but Albus was too lost in his thoughts as he stared at the Sorting Hat, which gave something of a bow to the tables before arching back up into its normal position and going still.

It had been worrying enough to think about the Sorting, but now that it was so close, the younger Potter felt multiple thoughts buzzing around in his head like bees just barely missing each other as they darted around to different flowers.

Roxanne said she could see you in Ravenclaw, he told himself. And Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad, either, at least Lucy's there.

Even though he thought this, though, he remembered the pictures of his parents wearing Gryffindor ties and how happy his father had been to see the red and gold Gryffindor banners that James had tacked up all over his room.

You won't end up in Gryffindor, he thought dully. "The fiery bold" reside there, remember? That's James, not you.

But if I ask to be there, like Dad did, another part of him thought, maybe the Hat will let me be in Gryffindor.

But his father had also said he wouldn't care if he ended up in Slytherin...

Albus felt a nervous chill run down his spine and he shuddered slightly despite himself. Longbottom stepped in front of the group of students to stand beside the four-legged stool, a roll of parchment in his chubby hand.

"When I call your name," he told them brightly, "sit here on the stool so the Sorting Hat can sort you."

He unrolled the parchment and read the first name, "Black, Emily!"

The plump girl with curly dark hair who had been part of the runespoor trio, with a glance at her friends Mulciber and Nott, hesitantly broke away from them and walked up to sit primly on the stool. Her black eyes anxiously looked up at the hat as it came down to rest on the top of her head.

A brief moment later, the hat yelled its answer.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The applause of the Slytherin table was nearly drowned out by the jeers and boos from the other three tables. The Gryffindor table's derision was loudest - Albus could see James was one of those shouting out taunts.

"Silence!" Kimball roared over the commotion as he stood up. As he was rather tall, the gesture was dramatic. His small eyes were little blue pinpricks on his wrinkled face with how they narrowed angrily upon the Gryffindor table, and the students at the house tables immediately fell silent in response. Clearly this professor was no more one to trifled with than the previous Headmistress McGonagall had been.

Upon removing the Sorting Hat from her head, Longbottom looked down at Emily Black, who looked visibly intimidated by the response to her Sorting, and rested a reassuring hand on the back of her shoulder.

"Your table's on the far end there," he said kindly.

Emily, who had jumped slightly at the gesture, nonetheless gave the professor a silent nod and, with another look at Mulciber and Nott, left the step to join the Slytherin table.

Longbottom then returned his focus to the list of names, and continued.

"Charlemagne, Xavier!"

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat proclaimed for the second time.

The Slytherin table welcomed the dark-haired, bright-blue-eyed boy with quiet applause, while the other three tables contented themselves with shooting glares at them.

"Copper, Lassie" became the first Gryffindor, the boy with the orange tan, Doyle Cottingley, became the first Ravenclaw, and "Dickerson, Andrew" became the first Hufflepuff - all three of them, unlike the two newly sorted Slytherins, didn't receive taunting from the other tables.

"Duncan, Charlotte!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Erikson, Ariel!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Fine-ah, Samantha!"

"Fee-na, sir," Sam Fina corrected politely as she came up to the stool.

"A - ah - yes, of course," Longbottom stammered awkwardly, offering an apologetic smile before repeating the name correctly, "Fina, Samantha!"

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted as soon as it touched Sam's inky black head. The gangly girl eagerly dashed over to the Ravenclaw table, seeming not to notice the odd looks she was receiving even through the applause.

As the Sorting went on, Albus barely heard the names - all that echoed in his ears were the houses being shouted by the Hat - "GRYFFINDOR!" - "HUFFLEPUFF!" - "GRYFFINDOR!" - "SLYTHERIN!" - "RAVENCLAW!" - one by one, as they made their way down to the letter H...I...K...L...

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

The name at once got a visible reaction from almost everyone in the Hall - if not for Kimball staring down the Gryffindor table, Albus thought for a moment that they might have started jeering again.

Malfoy, refusing to look at anyone, brushed past Albus and walked up to the four-legged stool. Longbottom gave him a look that seemed oddly closed and, whether he meant to or not, admittedly less friendly than before. He placed the hat on top of Malfoy's curly blond head and it fell down over his eyes.

The hat took a considerably longer time sorting Malfoy than it had for the previous students. For a moment Albus wondered if the Sorting Hat was acting like the first-years on the shore of the Hogwarts Lake and refusing to place him anywhere.

At long last, the hat pronounced, "SLYTHERIN!", and the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables looked satisfied. The Slytherin table, however, gave only light and reluctant applause as welcome.

"Told you he'd end up there," Rose muttered in Albus's ear as the blond boy left the platform and took a place at the far end of the Slytherin table by himself.

"Maddow, Keith" became a Gryffindor before "Mulciber, Eris" was called up. The girl with thick dirty-blond hair who had refused to take Malfoy into her boat nonetheless was also sorted as "SLYTHERIN!" - she, however, received louder applause and still refused to sit beside Malfoy. "Nott, Ambrosia," Eris Mulciber and Emily Black's brown-haired friend, was also named a Slytherin and joined the two of them at the Slytherin table.

After Ambrosia Nott was sorted, Albus abruptly realized how quickly they were coming up on his name. His hands suddenly felt very sweaty and he desperately wiped them on his robes as if worried someone would notice.

"Nye, Tanya!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

He'd just ask to be in Gryffindor - he'd just ask to be in Gryffindor. His father said the Sorting Hat took one's choice into consideration -

"Parker, Stephanie!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

If he just said he wanted to be in Gryffindor, he would end up there, right? And if it didn't want to, he would just have to convince it to do so -

"Peche, James!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Potter, Albus!"

Albus came back down to earth, his head shooting up toward Longbottom. Around them, whispers broke out at the house tables in response to the name.

"Potter? As in - "

"Yeah, his second son - "

Oh gosh, it was his turn. His turn. For a moment, Albus was frozen, stock-still, his face paling significantly as his mind went blank.

He felt a hand lightly push against his shoulder, and he glanced back at Rose, who gave him an encouraging look.

Swallowing his fear back as best he could, the black-haired Potter stepped away from the crowd and up to the stool where Longbottom was waiting with the hat. At the far end of the teachers' table, Albus saw Hagrid, who gave him a large thumbs-up of encouragement.

As Albus came up to sit down on the stool, Longbottom offered him a smile. The small boy weakly tried to reciprocate, all the while avoiding eye contact with James and his cousins at the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff house tables, before the hat came down and fell over his eyes.

All he saw was black, but he heard a little voice in his ear - the voice, presumably, of the Sorting Hat.

"Ah, the second Potter boy, hmm? Well, now, this will certainly be more of a challenge than the first one's Sorting - yes, I see quite a bit in you - a good head on your shoulders, a fair amount of loyalty to your beliefs - decent bravery and a lot of emotion - and ahh, great ambition as well, an ambition to be your own person - you would do well to follow that - "

It was at this moment that Albus remembered what he had been thinking before he walked up to the stair. Quickly he thought in the direction of the voice,

Um - excuse me...Mr. Hat?

"...Yes?" it asked, seeming a bit surprised by the interruption.

I was thinking - I would really like to be in Gryffindor, Albus tried to sound polite even if it felt like he was talking to himself. My dad told me that you let people choose to be in houses - so I just thought I'd ask to be there - rather than Slytherin.

"I see."

The hat paused. The lengthening silence made Albus anxious.

"No, Potter, I'm afraid that won't do," it said at last.

Albus felt a stab of fear in his chest. But you let my dad choose to be in Gryffindor!

"No, my boy, in fact, I did not," the croaky voice reproached. "Your father did not say to me 'Put me in Gryffindor' - he said to me, 'Not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin.' I did not place him in Gryffindor because he wanted to be there - I placed him there because Gryffindor suited him almost as much as Slytherin would have - and I still believe that he would have done well there, if he had tried it."

Then - then could you place me anywhere but Slytherin?

The hat paused again. Then it asked quietly, "What is your reason for not wanting to be in Slytherin, young Potter?"

Albus was taken aback by this. He hadn't thought that the ceremony involved the hat asking questions of the person he was sorting.

...All Dark wizards end up in Slytherin, he put forth at last, remembering what one of the first-year boys had said.

"Do they?" challenged the hat.

Yes, Albus thought obstinately.

Almost as soon as he'd thought it, however, he started having misgivings. He knew that wasn't true. His father had told them stories about their grandfather and his friends since James was old enough to ask about his name. Albus knew that the Death Eater who had sold his grandparents out to Lord Voldemort and betrayed everyone who had ever trusted him was not Bellatrix Lestrange or Antonin Dolohov - it was Peter Pettigrew, their friend, who was just as much of a Gryffindor as his grandparents had been.

"He wanted glory - that, in him, was his downfall and not his strength," the hat said quietly. "So...not all were in Slytherin."

Albus, however, wasn't about to give up. Most Slytherins become Dark wizards, though.

"Do they? How many Slytherins have you met, Potter?"

...Not many, Albus admitted. The only person he knew that had been in Slytherin was Teddy Lupin's grandmother Andromeda, and he didn't know her well at all. But everyone knows it.

"Everyone knows it...or everyone thinks it?"

Unfortunately the image of Malfoy not being let onto any of the boats to Hogwarts flickered again through Albus's mind, as did the memory of the pity he'd felt. He shoved it down, feeling his insides squirm as he tried to think of another argument.

My dad was in Gryffindor! My mom was in Gryffindor, my brother's in Gryffindor -

"And your cousin Lucy is in Hufflepuff and your cousins Dominique and Victoire are in Ravenclaw. So why the favoring of Gryffindor?"

Because it was my dad's house! Albus burst back. He felt like he was getting a headache. It's what people expect - if I don't end up there, I'll probably embarrass him!

The hat seemed to have finally gotten the answer it had waited to hear.

"So it is for the desire to honor your father. Not for the sake of everyone else's opinions - not for the sake of personal glory - it is for your feelings and your wish."

Yes, Albus thought out of frustration, temporarily just glad that he didn't have to explain himself anymore.

The hat shifted slightly on the young Potter's head.

"This answer was what I needed to receive in order for me to make my choice, Potter. You see, Gryffindor, as a house, is not just for the brave - it is for the reckless and those who desire glory. Slytherin, in a way, is Gryffindor's utter opposite, for it welcomes deep thought and those who will dismiss glory for the sake of deeper desires. That is why I wished to place your father in Slytherin - he never thought of glory when he rushed to save those in trouble, or how he would be seen for breaking the rules - he simply did what he thought was right. Still, because of his rashness, pride, and quickness to judge others, I settled by placing him in Gryffindor."

Albus felt the squirming in his stomach magnify. Did that mean that - ?

You're not still thinking I should be in Slytherin, are you?

"Yes," the hat assented firmly. "All the while while I asked you this, you struggled to think up a reason to explain yourself, and even when you found one, you still couldn't help but mull over it. You never once rashly made a decision without a second thought."

Wouldn't that - make me all right for Ravenclaw, then? Albus asked frantically.

"Perhaps. But those appropriate for Ravenclaw think mainly with logic, and you have also demonstrated not to do that. Your answers have all been quite from the heart."

What about Hufflepuff, then? Hufflepuff is supposed to take people that don't belong anywhere else, right?

"Hufflepuff often accepts those who do not fit comfortably elsewhere...but that is not its purpose. Its purpose, similar to the other houses, is to accept a brand of students - in this case, hard-working, loyal, and fair individuals. But you work hard, not for the sake of hard work as Hufflepuffs do, but for what you want. That is the core of Slytherin values."

But if I'm in Slytherin, I will embarrass my family!

Even as he thought this, though, the words of his father again echoed back to him -

"Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin, and he was the bravest man I ever knew."

"I will say, Albus Potter," croaked the Sorting Hat, "you are by far the most stubborn student I have ever had to sort. Do you not realize that even now with how much you're doing to try and get what you want, you are proving all the more why you belong in Slytherin? Determination - resourcefulness - thoughtfulness - a strong focus on your desires - you may be more optimistic than most of the students I have placed there, but unless you can give me a reason not to put you in Slytherin, I will."

Albus racked his brain, trying to think up a response - the Dark wizard argument hadn't worked, so that was out - and it hadn't mattered to the hat that his parents had both been in Gryffindor - it hadn't even mattered that he wanted to be in Gryffindor - him being in Slytherin would surely shame his family in the wizarding world, but the hat didn't seem to care about that either - none of the reasons he had were logical, all of them were based on emotion - so what reason could he give to something that wasn't human - ?

"Very well, then," the hat said in a satisfied tone of voice.

Albus's eyes went very wide. No, wait - I just need some more time to think -

"Yet another reason," it answered simply, "why you belong in SLYTHERIN!"

The Sorting Hat shouted the last word to the entire hall. Albus's heart stopped, the resounding silence after the word throbbing loudly in his ears.

Then all hell broke loose.

All four tables started shouting angrily, but the loudest were the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. The Slytherin table, including the newly sorted Ambrosia Nott and Eris Mulciber, seemed furious that a son of Harry Potter was put into their house - Fred, Roxanne, and James seemed insulted that their relative would be even considered for Slytherin, and many others in Gryffindor echoed their anger.

"SORT HIM AGAIN!" James yelled from the Gryffindor table. Albus might have liked knowing that James didn't really think he'd end up in Slytherin before he got sorted, but now his outburst made his stomach sink.

The shouting didn't last long, though. In an instant, Headmaster Kimball yanked his wand out from his robes and let out a bunch of red sparks like dangerous fireworks.

"ENOUGH! I will not have a shouting match in this hall! Potter - get to your table."

Albus felt the Sorting Hat leave his head and looked up at Longbottom. The Herbology professor's face was almost confused, but he nonetheless smiled at the small boy as he brought a reassuring hand onto his shoulder.

Shakily Albus got to his feet, looking from the speechless-looking Hagrid at the teachers' table to Rose still waiting with the remainder of the unsorted first-years. She looked considerably shocked, her freckles standing out sharply on her chalk-white face, but her eyes also seemed anxious.

Albus swallowed and turned his focus on the Slytherin table, before walking off the step and slowly making his way over to it.

His eyes ran over the many glaring faces of the other students as he moved past them, all the way to the end of the table. The only other one there was Malfoy, whose gray eyes rested on him with only dull suspicion, rather than hatred.

"...Can I sit here?" Albus asked him quietly.

"I'm sure you'll find you can," Malfoy replied coolly.

After a moment, though, his expression softened, not becoming kinder, but losing its distrust and becoming more neutral as he gestured to the bench as if to say, "Go ahead and sit."

Albus gave him a nod of thanks, and sat down on the bench, looking down at the wooden table rather than the many faces that were still looking at him.

"Rookwood, Pamina!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Ruff, Nicholas!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

It had actually happened - after how much he'd worried that it would happen, it had to happen. How was he going to be able to look at his family after this? Even if his dad said he didn't care, what if he actually did care and just didn't want to worry him? What if his mom cared? What if his mom's family cared? The Weasleys always had looked harshly on those who had been in Slytherin - as Roxanne had said, they were all "prats" -

"Stein, Aurora!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Tacmot, Daniel!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

What would everyone in the school think? Obviously no one would trust him - in Slytherin, everyone already seemed to hate him, and the other houses all thought that Slytherins were untrustworthy - after all, Doyle Cottingley had been so scornful of Slytherin, and he'd ended up in Ravenclaw, the house of logic - what logic could he possibly have had to avoid being in Slytherin that Albus didn't think of to tell the Sorting Hat?

"Weasley, Rose!"

Albus's head shot up at the sound of his red-haired cousin's name so fast that it almost felt like his neck had cracked. Rubbing it slightly, he looked up toward the front, to see Rose going up to the stool and the hat coming down on her head.

There was a silence that went on for a long while, before at last the hat proclaimed, "RAVENCLAW!"

Even through all of his anxieties about himself, Albus couldn't help but feel his stomach relax considerably hearing the word. He at once got to his feet and started clapping.

"All right, Rosie!" he shouted, for a moment not caring if the other Slytherins looked at him funny for clapping with the Ravenclaws.

Rose couldn't keep a big smile from unfurling on her face at her cousin's enthusiasm, and she dashed down the step to a great welcome from the Ravenclaw table.

Albus couldn't help but smile a bit as he sat down again. Rose would be great in Ravenclaw, she was always really bright. What did it matter if her dad would be disappointed she wasn't in Gryffindor? Ravenclaw was a great house! And somehow...her not being in Gryffindor either, in a weird way...made him feel a tiny bit better, too.

Kevin Wood ended the Sorting by going to Gryffindor, but Albus paid it little mind. His hand came down to rest over the ebony wand still sticking out of his pocket, his fingers curling around the handle.

The Sorting was over - he was in Slytherin. He didn't like it, and he still wished that he was in Gryffindor. But Rose hadn't ended up in Gryffindor either, and that had made him feel as though no one should care if she was in Ravenclaw. Of course Ravenclaw didn't have the reputation that Slytherin did...but maybe, just maybe, Albus thought to himself...maybe he could make being in Slytherin work somehow.

"Aw, if it isn't Baby Potter," mocked a weedy fourth-year boy with lank dull brown hair not unlike Ambrosia Nott's. "Fancy yourself to be a bad boy, do you?"

 "I guess it'd have to be hereditary in your family," a second-year girl with a mole on her nose commented with a cool smirk, "that desire to want to cause a scene wherever you go - "

"Don't be stupid,"a tough-looking third-year boy next to the girl said harshly, "they only sent him to us because he's so useless even Hufflepuff didn't want him - "

Albus's hand clenched over his wand and he wished with all of his might that he had a really good jinx to use on the sneering older kids - his anger, however, only seemed to amuse them further, as they all started laughing.

"That is enough."

Everyone looked over at the prefect that had escorted the first-years in - a pale fifth-year Slytherin boy with a mop of dark auburn hair with bangs that fell into his stormy gray eyes - as he stood up from the armchair he'd settled into, which sat right in front of the fire and a black-framed portrait with an empty canvas.

"Enough?" spat the boy who looked like Ambrosia Nott. "Enough nothing! You can't tell me that you're all right with Potter's kid being in here, Richard!"

"I'm not," Richard answered coolly.

He got to his feet and walked toward Albus. Albus at once felt his posture stiffening as the much taller boy came over to him, particularly at how cold his gray eyes were as he did so, but was surprised by the prefect actually putting a hand on his shoulder.

"But he was sorted into Slytherin, regardless," said Richard. "And we're not going to be able to change it, unless Potter decides to leave Hogwarts and go somewhere else. Even if he is Harry Potter's son - " he gave no vocal acknowledgment to the bunch of hisses that went around the room at the name, " - I am Slytherin's only prefect, and I intend to protect my house, Lycaeon - even if it includes Potter."

His words surprised Albus. Slytherin's only prefect? He was sure that each house was supposed to have one boy and one girl prefect from the fifth, sixth and seventh-year classes. As Albus glanced around the room, however, a thought struck him - were there any girls in the commonroom that were older than fourteen? For that matter - were there any Slytherin students older than Richard?

The majority of the other Slytherins scowled at the prefect, but at his words, they begrudgingly dispersed, moving to other areas of the commonroom or heading up the stairs toward their dormitories.

Albus turned to Richard.

"Um - thank you. For that."

Richard looked down at Albus with an incredibly frosty eye. "I didn't do it for your sake."

"I know that," Albus choked out quickly at Richard turning to go, feeling awkward and unsure but nonetheless adding as a mumble, " ...but I still appreciate it."

Richard glanced over his shoulder at Albus, his gray eyes still very cold. Then he turned back around, coming over in a way that made him lord over the younger boy, whether he meant to or not.

"My father is in Azkaban for being a Death Eater, Potter," he said quietly. "Jude Avery - son of Meleagar Avery, also a Death Eater in his day. I may not be much the type to idolize the sort of stuff my family has done - but I do not want to have a Potter feel he owes me anything. So forget it."

With this, Richard Avery swept around and left up the stairs to the dormitories, leaving Albus in a chilly pool of discomfort.

~*~

The next few days were just as hard. Starting classes meant that Albus had to walk around the very large castle trying to find specific classrooms and that he often got lost and ended up walking in late. Once, on the way to his first Herbology class, he accidentally went down the wrong hall and ran right into Peeves, the school poltergeist, when he was hanging water balloons from the ceiling, and the mischievous creature took the opportunity to pelt all the balloons he hadn't hung up at the small boy until he ran down the staircase.

Why isn't there a map for this place? the sopping wet Albus couldn't help but think sullenly afterward.

Getting lost, however, was the least of Albus's worries. Whenever he was in a class or anywhere else that made him run into students from the other houses, he found himself confronting a horde of gossiping wasps.

"That's him, the Slytherin Potter - "

"He looks harmless - "

"That's just 'cause the Sorting Hat saw something we can't see - "

Albus tried his best to ignore it. In all honesty, he felt like he'd almost be okay with it if people disliked him for something he did, but it seemed like just ending up in Slytherin automatically painted him as a Dark wizard - even when he was the son of Harry Potter. If the other students weren't gossiping about him, they would make it a point to let him know they didn't like him, whether by shoving him out of their way or by taunting him under their breath as they passed.

The day after the Sorting, after getting caught on a staircase that wouldn't move to the right level no matter how much he asked it to, Albus finally made it to Charms class with the Ravenclaws. He had been expecting the professor - a small woman with a trimmed mop of gray curls around her wrinkled face named Professor Taubman - to be angry with him for being late. But when he entered, Professor Taubman did not laugh like the majority of the class did. Instead, she reacted kindly.

"Next time please leave a bit early for class, all right, Mr. Potter?" she said in a rather grandmotherly tone of voice. "I'd hate for you to be late again."

Albus smiled at her out of pure gratitude, before he moved over toward the empty seat on the bench next to Rose.

Unfortunately just as Professor Taubman turned her back, he felt his leg get caught on something, and he fell flat on his face.

A chorus of laughter accompanied his face colliding with the stone floor. His nose throbbing with pain, Albus looked up to see one of the Ravenclaw boys smirking down at him - obviously he had stuck his foot out to trip him.

"Have a nice trip, Potter?" he asked innocently.

Albus stumbled to his feet, ready to retort, but at that moment, Professor Taubman turned around again.

"Now, now, settle down," she said in a lightly chastising tone of voice. "My lesson can't be that funny - "

"It wasn't your lesson, Professor!" Rose spoke up at once. "Kent just - "

"If you have a comment, please wait until the end of class, Miss Weasley," Professor Taubman interrupted gently. "We don't need to yell."

She then glanced at Albus, her eyes full of naive pleasantry as she gestured to the bench. "Go on, Mr. Potter, find your seat, please."

Albus's cheeks flushed in both humiliation and frustration as he looked from Taubman to the boy called Kent, resentment dripping from his green eyes. Then, after a moment, he walked down to the end of the bench to sit next to Rose.

In Slytherin, it wasn't much better. Even Slytherin's Head of House, the dark-skinned Professor Zabini, seemed to show no respect toward Albus when he just barely made it to Transfiguration on time.

"Oh, thank you, Potter," he said with sarcastically feigned gratitude. "You actually came on time for me - I've heard from my coworkers that you often show your disapproval of the teachers by arrogantly strolling in after class has already started. Good of you not to make me take points from my own house."

What was worse than his comments, though, were his long periods of complete, judgmental silences that would accompany him swooping around the room to look at his students' work and write down their grade for that date on a clipboard. Albus wasn't sure what made transfiguring a match into a needle harder - Scorpius Malfoy doing it flawlessly next to him or Professor Zabini lording over him as he worked.

As for the other Slytherins, it was as though they were determined to deny him a place in their house. Yes, in the underground dungeon that was the Slytherin commonroom, there were dormitories for the first-year Slytherin boys - Malfoy, Xavier Charlemagne, a very small boy with one brown eye and one blue eye named Morpheus Ingram, and Albus himself - but even there, both he and Malfoy were shunned by Charlemagne and Ingram, and Malfoy seemed to have no problem with being alone, so in the end Albus was still left by himself. For someone who had grown up in a very tight-knit and nosy family, the privacy could have been refreshing, but as it was, it was harsh and lonely.

In the morning two days after the Sorting, just about the time that he had finally readied up his courage to write to his parents about being in Slytherin, Albus was surprised by James's Eurasian eagle-owl, Hawksworth, swooping down to drop a small package in his lap before flocking back over to James at the Gryffindor table.

Albus looked up at his brother in time to see him avert his eyes and read his own letter, and his stomach sank a bit. Was James mad about him being in Slytherin too?

Not wanting to think about this, the black-haired boy looked down at the package in his lap. He unwrapped it, to find a scarf with green and silver stripes and the Slytherin crest on it. It wasn't like the sorts he was used to seeing, however, as the green was a lot brighter than the normal Slytherin green and the silver was so light it was almost platinum white. It was worn around the edges, obviously a bit threadbare with age.

Albus felt his stomach sink down to his knees. Were his parents so ashamed that they only felt like getting him a second-hand scarf?

He ripped open the letter that had been attached to the package and reluctantly began to read.

Dear Al,

James wrote to tell us about your Sorting, and I have to tell you, I have never been more proud.

For a moment Albus couldn't even read any more of the letter because he could only focus on that sentence.

Proud. Proud. His father was proud of him!

His heart swelled considerably, and after a few moments he finally tore his eyes out of the cycle of reading that section over and over and read the rest.

Slytherin may have a bad reputation, but I am glad that you fought back against your fear of being there, despite what people might think. That is true bravery and sureness of self - I certainly didn't have that as a boy.

I am sure, though, that being in Slytherin has been difficult for you. From what I've heard from others, I understand it still holds the majority of purebloods and Death Eater family members - I don't doubt you've already encountered them. James has told me that he, Roxanne, Fred, Dominique, and Victoire are petitioning Headmaster Kimball to get you switched to another house, but as I've told him, I don't think that's the way to go. You were sorted into Slytherin, and I'm sure you'll do just fine there. I have faith in you.

Congratulations from the family to Rosie, as well, for getting into Ravenclaw! I am sorry you two didn't end up in the same house, but you'll have a few classes together, at least, so you can help each other then. Uncle Ron, to my surprise, is very happy about Rosie's Sorting - I'm sure she'll be getting a letter from him soon.

Lily, of course, was reminded by James's letter of how much she misses you two and how much she wishes she was at Hogwarts too. She sends her love and she hopes that you write back quickly so she'll know how you're enjoying Hogwarts. In the meantime, I've promised to take her window-shopping in Diagon Alley to help distract her from the waiting. Kreacher also has been very saddened by your departure, but he was delighted by the news of your house. Enclosed is a little something of congratulations from him - it used to belong to one of his old masters, Regulus Black, who was also a Slytherin and a very noble man.

Your mother will be off to Ireland for a week to do some interviews for the Daily Prophet - apparently Jeffrey Connell, Seeker for the Kenmare Kestrels, is rumored to have been offered a position on the Irish National Quidditch team in anticipation for the World Cup, so your mother is looking into that. Look out for her article in the next few weeks! As for me, I look forward to getting something from Wendelin about how you're doing. James's letters, as I'm sure you know, aren't always the clearest source of information.

All our love,

Dad 

It was amazing, for a moment, how reading his father's words was enough to erase all of the glumness in Albus's chest. Although he wouldn't have said he faced his fear of being in Slytherin during the Sorting, it was really good to read Mr. Potter's words and have some support through this whole mess - after having felt so lonely, it was reassuring to be reminded of home.

Albus glanced again at the vintage scarf and smiled a bit. So it had belonged to "Master Regulus"... He didn't know all that much about Regulus Black aside from their house-elf Kreacher's adoring opinion of him, but having an older scarf didn't seem so bad when it had history attached to it. Plus, if it had belonged to Regulus, that meant that Kreacher had to have cleaned it and wrapped it specially for him, and Albus knew how hard it was for Kreacher to part with anything that had belonged to the Black family.

Wrapping the bright Slytherin scarf around his neck with new pride, he reread the letter, and caught something he hadn't paid as much mind to at first. James and the Weasleys were trying to get him switched to another house? Could they even do that?

He glanced up at the teachers' table at Headmaster Kimball, who was looking incredibly surly as he ripped through his omelet with the prongs of his fork.

No way, Albus concluded at once.

"Al!"

Rose had just come down for breakfast - she had her new blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie properly knotted around the collar of her white shirt and had a bunch of books in her arms.

"Morning, Rosie," Albus greeted with a smile he didn't think he would have had before reading his dad's letter.

"New scarf from your dad?" asked Rose, as she dropped her books off at the Ravenclaw table across from where Albus was sitting.

"From Kreacher, actually - but it came with a letter from Dad. He said your dad's really happy about you being in Ravenclaw."

Rose's blue eyes lit up, visible relief flooding her face. "Really? Oh, that's great, I was so worried that he wouldn't be, considering that both he and Mum were in Gryffindor and practically everyone knows they were in Gryffindor - I thought it wouldn't make sense if they weren't okay with the other houses, but you know how Dad is - maybe he was just happy I didn't end up in Sly - "

She just barely managed to stop herself. Her relief quickly wilted into guilt.

"Oh. I - I didn't mean it like that, Al, I only meant - "

"It's all right. Really," Albus reassured his cousin when she gave him a doubting look. "Dad took it well - he said he was proud that I ended up in Slytherin."

"Proud?" Rose repeated in disbelief. "But it's the house that's most associated with the Dark Arts! And all of the old Death Eaters' kids are in there. He can't really want to be associated with that, can he?"

This thought made a cold stone in Albus's stomach, and he retorted a bit more harshly than he meant, "Well, I'm associated with it, not him. Anyone who would question my father's position on the Dark Arts would have to be bloody mental, anyway."

Rose, still frowning slightly, settled down on the Ravenclaw bench across from him.

"Of course they would," she assented quietly.

After a moment, seeming uncomfortable about where the conversation had gone, she changed the subject.

"So, uh - what's your schedule like today?"

"Dunno," Albus admitted. "Didn't really look."

He took his schedule out of his bag and handed it to Rose as she took out her own.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts - Flying - Potions - oh, Muggle Studies! We have that together," Rose realized brightly as she compared their schedules.

Muggle Studies, once an optional class in the days of Albus and Rose's parents, had since become a mandatory class for all students that weren't Muggle-born after the end of the Second Wizarding War. The Ministry of Magic had insisted upon it to help spread an understanding of Muggle society among young witches and wizards, and the Hogwarts staff had agreed that some of the old notions about Muggles should be discouraged. Albus didn't know how well it was working.

"D'you know who's teaching those classes?" asked Albus.

"Well, the Potions teacher is Professor Corner - he's our Head of House, for Ravenclaw," Rose explicated. "He seems decent enough. And Dad said that Professor Davies will be teaching us Flying - he was Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, when they were at school..."

The idea of flying made Albus's stomach squirm a bit. It'd be good to have a flying teacher, of course - but unlike the rest of his family, Albus did not enjoy Quidditch or riding brooms. When he was very little, less than five, he had tried playing a one-on-one Quidditch match against James on his father's old Firebolt, and after he had scored against his older brother, James had thrown a tantrum and accidentally made flowers pop up all over Albus's broom. Out of surprise, the toddler had lost his grip and flipped over backward, falling off the Firebolt and into the bushes ten feet below. Even since then, Albus had rather disliked heights and therefore rather hated flying.

Feeling queasy, the young Potter quickly shifted his attention to the first class on his schedule. "What about Defense? Do we know who's teaching that?"

"That'd be Professor Crane."

Albus and Rose turned around. James, flanked by Shefter and Dane, had swept over to the Ravenclaw table, still holding onto the letter that no doubt had come from his and Albus's father.

Albus tried to sneak a peek, but James noticed and quickly put it away in his robes before he flopped down next to Rose on the Ravenclaw bench.

"Dragons - Acromantula - Manticores - none of them are as scary as Crane when she gets angry."

"Ain't that the truth," Shefter agreed, his face betraying a smirk despite the seriousness of his words. "Detentions with her are hell on earth. Organizing paperwork for hours - "

"Cleaning the dungeons without magic - " inserted James.

"Taking over the house-elves' duties for a day - "

"Cleaning the owlery without magic - "

"She gets really creative with her punishments."

"And of course practically everything out of her mouth is verbal abuse," said Dane. It was the first time that Albus had heard him do anything but laugh - he had a slightly higher voice than James and Shefter with a whine-like tone that made him sound like a yowling cat.

"She can't be that horrible," Rose argued, looking suspiciously at James. "She would've been fired if she was."

James gave an idle shrug. "She's perfectly decent, I guess, if you don't say a word and you do all your work - but you give her any lip - any slight disrespect - and she'll humiliate you - no matter what house you're in."

"And the worst part?" Shefter added. "She's Hufflepuff's Head of House."

"Hufflepuff?" repeated Rose, looking very surprised. "But she doesn't sound like a Hufflepuff at all!"

"I know, right?" agreed James. "Seems like she doesn't belong with the house of duffers - maybe McGonagall had figured they needed someone to toughen up all those nice-nice, goody-goody Hufflepuffs - "

"Hufflepuffs don't have to be nice," Albus pointed out, thinking of what the Sorting Hat had said. "Their house is about fairness and hard work."

"Maybe, but they all end up kind of wussy," Shefter said coolly.

"Especially when you and James clean their clocks at Quidditch, right, Jack?" Dane snickered.

"Amen!" Jack Shefter and James chimed in unison, exchanging a high-five with Dane.

Albus exchanged a dull look with Rose in response - neither of them was as much into Quidditch as James, Albus's parents, and Rose's father were. Rose certainly liked it better than Albus, since she didn't dislike flying, but she had always been one of the few people in the Weasley clan who didn't eagerly follow Quidditch and go crazy in support of the home team.

"By the way, Rosie - Al," James said at last, once he and his friends were done with their little pro-Gryffindor pow-wow. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" asked Albus.

"The D.A.," James replied. "First meeting's coming up after lunch today - it's open to all students, and I've just been made Vice President this year - so I figured I'd formally invite you!"

Dumbledore's Army, or the D.A., had been founded by Mr. Potter and Rose's parents when they were at school so students could learn how to fight the Dark Arts. Although Voldemort had been defeated and the Death Eaters had been sent to Azkaban nineteen years ago, the club remained and, according to James, still taught students helpful spells and techniques for wizard dueling.

Rose seemed excited. "Oh, that sounds great! I believe first-years have a break after lunch, so we won't be missing any classes..."

Albus, who had heard a lot of stories about the original D.A. from his father, also felt his heart leap a bit. Most of it was because he knew he'd love being part of the D.A. like his father had been - but it also helped that James was the one inviting him. Maybe he wasn't mad about him being in Slytherin after all.

Once breakfast was over, Rose headed downstairs for Herbology while Albus headed upstairs for Defense Against the Dark Arts. The young Potter might have had difficulty finding it if not for the large crowd of Slytherin and Gryffindor first-years that were waiting outside a locked classroom. Just above the door, a winged horse made of bright pink paper-mache hung from the ceiling, flapping around in meaningless circles over their heads.

Professor Crane must be late, Albus thought to himself. This seemed a bit strange, though, after what James had said about her - he'd automatically visualized a cranky old woman who would hang you by your thumbs if you were tardy.

He strolled up toward the muttering bunch of Slytherin first-years, who were pointedly keeping their distance from the Gryffindors gathered on the other side of the door.

"Do you know anything about this teacher?" asked Morpheus Ingram, Albus's brown-and-blue-eyed dormmate.

"Only that she was an Auror," Eris Mulciber replied dully. "So she's probably a Gryffindor-favoring twit like all the others."

His father being head of the Auror Department, this comment promptly irritated Albus. Instead of starting a fight in the hallway, though, he chose instead to come up right behind Eris and reply pointedly,

"My brother said Professor Crane doesn't care about houses - he said she was pretty fair."

Albus didn't put in that she was fair by being harsh with everyone because he was still kind of hoping that wasn't true - as Rose said, she couldn't be that horrible and still keep her job, could she?

When Eris had turned around and realized who had been speaking, her expression shifted abruptly, becoming rather disgusted.

"Ah, yes - I suppose your brother would know what fairness is - him with his precious 'Army' of prats."

Ambrosia Nott, Xavier Charlemagne, and Morpheus Ingram all sneered in agreement. Albus's face went quite red - yeah, his brother wasn't the best judge of fairness, but considering that Crane had no favoring of him or other Gryffindors, it seemed like she had to be at least a little fair. What bothered him more, though, was the idea of someone insulting the D.A.

"It's called Dumbledore's Army," he defended quietly. "And they're not prats."

Eris took one look at Ambrosia and the two burst out laughing, sounding like two incredibly scornful hyenas. Emily Black gave Albus a very cold look.

"Are they not prats because your brother is the Vice President - or is it because you're perfectly all right with them being prats and prefer to label their pettiness as nobility?"

It was the first time she'd spoken in front of Albus - her voice was higher and quieter than he had expected, since her size had subconsciously made him think her voice would be low like a bullfrog's.

"It's not like that!" Albus argued quickly.

"What is it like, then?" challenged Emily, her black eyes incredibly beady.

Albus, perfectly taken aback by how eloquent the girl was considering how quiet she'd been, found himself fumbling over his words.

"It's like - well - they're not prats! They're good people - mostly - and you shouldn't be talking about them like that - "

Emily clearly was unimpressed by this answer judging by the stony look she gave in response. Before Albus could give a better answer, however, a rather bony, pale Slytherin girl with pencil-straight brown hair replied for him.

"His family created the organization, Ophelia."

Before this moment, she had been leaning against the wall with her books held over her chest, but right now she straightened up and continued speaking to Emily, who she had called "Ophelia" for some reason.

"Dumbledore's Army was originally a club to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts because a Ministry witch took over the class - Potter's uncle, aunt, and father all had a hand in making it. No one here can blame someone for family loyalty."

This seemed to have a silencing effect on most of the Slytherin first-years. Out the corner of his eye Albus noticed Malfoy glance over at this moment and silently incline his head in something of a nod.

Emily, however, clearly thought otherwise. "I can and I will - family might be important, Pamina, but there are more important things. Or would you say that you agree with everything your grandfather has done?"

Eris and Ambrosia both grabbed a hold of Emily's shoulders, clearly disapproving of what she had said.

"Out of line - "

"Easy, Ophelia - "

Again Emily was addressed as "Ophelia" - Albus briefly wondered if it was some kind of an alias.

The girl called Pamina looked down at her feet, her angled periwinkle-blue eyes betraying only a slight amount of hurt in response to Emily's words.

"No, I do not," she said quietly. "But I would've thought you would know family loyalty, Ophelia - your family being so passionate about blood purity and all."

It wasn't until this moment that Albus had stopped to consider that. Emily's last name was Black - so she was in the Black family? She was related to "Master Regulus" and his father's godfather Sirius?

Emily's face went a dark red and, for a moment, showed a flicker of something not unlike doubt. Then her plump red face grew angry.

"I am proud of being a Black - but I am not blind in my loyalty! Even you're family, you still have to earn it - "

BOOM!

Just barely after Emily had finished her sentence, there was an abrupt blast of red and black sparks right over the students' heads. There was a chorus of screams in which the majority of the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years stumbled over each other trying to get away from the explosion. Albus out of instinct yanked out his wand, even as the majority of the other first-year Slytherins darted past him.

When he looked up to see what had made the noise, however, the young Potter was shocked to see miscellaneous strips of colored paper and assorted magical sweets showering down around them, along with the pieces of the paper-mache winged horse that had been hanging over the classroom door.

"A pinata?" Kevin Wood muttered in confusion.

He and a few other Gryffindors, as well as Malfoy and Emily, had also pulled out their wands.

"Appalling," said a low voice.

Albus turned around to see the woman who was no doubt Professor Crane.

Her wand raised with surprising idleness, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher strolled up to the scattered group of students, her curly brown hair sweeping back and forth with each step. She had a long nose and a pair of spicy golden eyes that seemed almost out of place beside her tanned skin, making her look like a hawk dressed in scarlet robes. She was also younger than Albus had been expecting - from what James had said, Albus had been expecting a crone, but Professor Crane looked no older than his own mother.

"I've never seen such an unprepared class in my life," Crane remarked, her golden eyes sweeping over all of the speechless first-years in turn. "Ay-ay-ay...I suppose you children assume that you will always be completely safe here? Well - "

She waved her wand, and the door to the classroom unlocked itself and swung open.

" - in the future, do not assume anything."

Albus felt his shoulders tense up as the professor rested her eyes on him. After a moment, he got enough sense to lower his wand.

Crane, however, gave him a wry smile.

"...A few of you have common sense, at least. Those of you that used it and pulled out your wands at the thought of danger - feel free to take some of the candy at your feet. The rest of you - head on in and we'll see how you can redeem yourselves in my eyes."

Watching the professor move to stand by the door, Albus then glanced down at the wrapped Chocolate Cauldron that had landed at his feet. After waiting a moment to make sure this wasn't another trick, he lowered his wand and picked it up, as well as a small bag of red licorice. The other kids that had raised their wands did the same, all except for Emily, who instead walked into the classroom without taking any candy.

"Do you like your fingers, Mr. Charlemagne," Crane growled abruptly when Xavier tried to sneak off with a bag of Jelly Slugs, "or do I have to cut them off to stop you from taking what you don't deserve?"

The bright-blue-eyed Slytherin immediately dropped the bag and, with a grumble, shuffled into the classroom with the other Slytherins who hadn't raised their wands.

After all of the students were inside the classroom, Albus saw Crane pick up a box of Pepper Imps for herself, before waving her wand and making the entire pinata mess vanish in an instant.

Well, James was right about Professor Crane being scary, Albus thought to himself. Even if she was, though, she didn't seem nearly as bad as he'd said.

The rest of the lesson, as well, wasn't as bad as Albus had thought it would be. Despite his worries about what James had said about Professor Crane, she still awarded ten points to Slytherin after Albus correctly answered a question about dueling etiquette and she was so pleased by the focus of the class after her rather crude entrance that she said she would teach them the light-creating charm Lumos in their next lesson.

"Read ahead on it," she added coolly. "If your work shows, you will be rewarded."

After Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Albus headed out to the Quidditch pitch for his first Flying class with the Hufflepuffs. He had been incredibly worried about being on a broomstick - and from the look of the broken, second-hand brooms that were placed beside them on the empty field for the lesson, he figured he had good reason - but it seemed that the Flying teacher, Professor Davies, had no interest in getting the students in the air on their first day.

"What is most important in flying," the handsome young professor said in a matter-of-fact tone, "is posture and movement. If you have the correct posture and use the correct amount of movement, then you will have the correct flight pattern. We will add getting you into the air when you are competent enough in the basics."

Not being in the air seemed to have taken away all of Albus's worries, and he was able to focus and follow all of Davies's directions on how to hold his broomstick properly.

"Very good, Potter," the Flying teacher told him as he walked past and checked the students' grip on their brooms. The praise felt even better after Professor Davies chided Malfoy's grip, even after the blond boy had answered every question about broom care and the rules of Quidditch correctly.

Potions class also turned out better than Albus had expected. James had told horror stories about potions gone awry, but unlike in a lot of his other classes like Transfiguration and Herbology, the key to Potions class seemed to be little else than simply following directions - and Albus could do that.

"Careful with the measurements," Professor Corner commented to Malfoy as he passed the table where he and Albus were working on their drafts of Boil-Cure Potion. "One more stir to the right should do it, Potter - five points to Slytherin."

As well as the class being easy, the professor was great. Professor Corner was a young man with messy dark hair framing his long face who dressed in high-collared black robes and black dragon-hide boots and gloves, and he, true to Rose's words, was quite decent to the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years. Even if he didn't give praise often and constantly critiqued his students' work, he was incredibly patient - even when Gryffindor Colin Fisher accidentally added the wrong ingredient to his cauldron and made it explode, showering all of the students next to him with his messed-up potion.

"It's all right, settle down," the Potions master placidly reassured Ambrosia Nott, who was blatantly sobbing in response to the ugly red boils popping up all over her face. "Madame Pomfrey will take care of it, if you would just compose yourself. Mr. Fisher, please stay after class and I'll show you what you did wrong. The rest of you, make sure your essay on this potion takes up half a roll of parchment - no oversized writing or spacing!"

With the end of Potions class, Albus headed up the stairs toward the Great Hall with a new spring in his step. He had earned points for his house, he had managed not to die in Flying class, and after lunch he would have his very first D.A. meeting - it seemed like his day was looking up.