The rest of the Sorting was over with Brian Zabini going to Slytherin, but the buzz was still a low hum. Neville placed the Sorting Hat to the side and collapsed into his seat, waving off a hurried whisper from Professor Bast. He looked like he had aged five years since he placed the hat on Albus’ head.

Professor Shacklebolt stood. His presence brought immediate silence to the hall.

"What has been sorted has been sorted. There have been a few surprises this year, but I expect..." he paused, his dark eyes causing the Gryffindors to study their empty plates, "for all involved to behave like Hogwarts students."

He smiled and the hall relaxed.

"There are a few announcements for the year." He cleared his voice meaningfully. "Because of the new Magical Creatures Equality Law, and the Dobby Elf Liberation Act there have been a few changes of note in our staff. You are now not allowed to issue any orders to house-elves. They are now officially employees of Hogwarts, and are to be respected as such." His resonating voice seemed to find a lower, menacing octave. "Any abuses will be punished severely."

Indignant glares from highborn students were cowed immediately.

He indicated an empty chair on the end of the dais. Due to Professor Binns finally realizing he's dead at the end of last term," Shacklebolt waited for student cheers to die down. "Our staff took on a new addition, who is at present on his way here by special night transport from Transylvania. I hope you will make Professor Hemophilias welcome."

Albus shot a puzzled look at Rose. Professor Hemophilias traveling at night from Transylvania? Could he be a vampire?

Rose knew what was on his mind like always. She whispered, "We'll ask Uncle Neville."

Suddenly, there was a cacophony of noise as a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth flew out of one of the walls backwards tossing something that looked like a helmet from one hand to the other blowing raspberries. On his heels were a number of ghostly horses ridden by knights in period garb except that all but one were headless carrying a head under their arm shouting threats as they gave chase through the other wall.

Following in their wake was a ghost holding a lantern and using a cane, but floating along at a good clip nonetheless. "I'm going to get you, Peeves, if it takes me the next century!" he shouted. Dour looking, with large jowls, the apparition carried a ghostly cat under his arm. She stared at the students with disdainful lamp-lit eyes.

The whole parade slipped through the other wall leaving silence in their wake.

Into the hush, Nearly Headless Nick sniffed. "Serves them right, those decapitated snobs."

Clearing his voice, mustering some dignity, Shacklebolt said, "It seems during the holiday, our long time caretaker Argus Filch passed, from his earthly body at least, so we have added a new caretaker to the staff for the times he will need corporeal assistance."

He indicated a corner off to the side, where stood, a goblin. Short, with large ears and nose and a long black beard he was twisting around one thick finger. He studied the student body with a diamond-hard, penetrating stare seemingly marking the troublemakers.

"Growltooth shares Mr. Filch's authority."

At that statement, the little goblin smiled, but his sharp, pointed teeth didn't make it friendly.

"And lastly," Shacklebolt finished in his deep baritone voice, "if I hear of one more student getting lost in the Forbidden Forest because someone…" His eyes found an innocent looking James Potter and Fred Weasley. "I don’t know who, informed them that Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures class is taking a field trip to see the centaurs. I will look into the matter myself."

Albus saw Fred look over at James, and saw James shrug as if to say, "New year, new pranks!"

Kingsley smiled and declared, "That is all. Let's eat!"

The tables were suddenly full of mouth-watering amazing food. Roast beef and chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, roasted potatoes, fries, puddings, carrots, peas swimming in butter, ketchup, and shepherd's pie. Desserts too. So many and varied, Albus wouldn't have been able to imagine such a spread if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He was going to be buzzing from all of the sugar in that tasty treacle tart all night, he wagered.

After a half hour filled with mumbled words and gluttony, Albus looked around the Hufflepuff table. He noticed that most housemates didn’t look extraordinary. Most were normal looking wizards, the lone exception being that tall Head Boy. They all looked excited for the coming year.

He observed Scorpius studying his hands as if he was counting the whirling patterns in the flesh, and Rose was contemplating two rather unique-looking girls who were across the table from them. They both had flowing golden blonde hair held back from their faces with ribbons, one pink, the other purple. With smiling, bright blue eyes, they appeared very girlish, but the arms folded on the table in front of them were oddly knotted with muscle.

Albus glanced over to the Gryffindor table.

His brother James was not eating, apparently feeling guilty for all of the teasing about house Sorting, shaken by the unexpected turn of events. Albus caught his eye, smiled and nodded to show he was fine. James gave him a considering look, and then grabbed a dinner roll.

Several students introduced themselves to Albus and Rose. Scorpius was studiously ignored, which seemed fine with him as he avoided all the looks shot at him from the Slytherin table. Rose noticed the stares. "What's their problem?" she asked.

Scorpius had barely touched the food in front of him but was shredding his napkin nervously. "In my world, being a Hufflepuff is the next thing to being a Squib." Some Hufflepuffs nearby overheard that comment and it earned him even more glares. It was plain to Albus that Scorpius meant no malice when he stated what was to him a simple fact. Rose understood too, since she let the comment go uncharacteristically without challenge.

"We'll all be great wizards, Scorpius, mark my word," Albus said, with more confidence then he really felt. "We're going change things around here."

Scorpius laughed shortly. "In case you haven't been paying attention, we already have!"

The feast was over and Albus, Rose and Scorpius heading out, following the Head Boy, "Come along, I can’t wait to show you your new home!" he called.

Albus almost got separated a couple of times because of looking at the sights. He saw a Nearly Headless Nick floating along, who sublimely tipped his head to the side in greeting. Most of the stonework in this section was less than twenty years old because of the battle that took place on this side of the castle. They turned to the right by the great staircase, down a flight of stone steps to what would be directly beneath the dining area.

They exited to a huge high-ceilinged kitchen. The walls were stone, nearly covered with hanging brass pots and pans with a large brick fireplace at one end. Four huge wooden tables were positioned exactly the same way as the tables above. Elves were hoping around and cleaning dishes, levitating them onto shelves high above with unerring accuracy. In their squeaky voices, they called a greeting to the children, inquiring if they wanted a snack to take down with them.

Scorpius, who had barely eaten at the feast, nodded. Instantly, he was plied with all sorts of food from the eager house elves, until he had to beg off.

Rose grabbed a large loaf out of his hands and handed it back. "Don't take advantage," she said sternly.

Scorpius imitated her bossy manner as soon as her back was turned, causing Albus to stifle a laugh as they followed the Head Boy over to a large still life of a bowl of fruit dominating one wall.

"Now pay attention," he instructed. "This changes from time to time." He reached out and scratched an apple twice, a pear once, and traced a finger across a banana which wiggled as if ticklish.

Students giggled as the portrait swung out. A short flight of stairs led down to a long broad corridor lit by torches. The round walls were of packed earth and it had a stone floor, the tunnel was lined with casks. From Hogwarts: A History, Albus knew it had been a cellar during the earliest days of the castle. The timbers overhead were dark with age.

They came to a round oak wood door, which their leader swung out, held it, smiling warmly as they filed by into the inviting light.

Albus entered the common room and paused. It was, in a word, cosy.

The burrow-like room was two stories tall and the furniture was made from old round casks and upholstered in plush bright yellow and black. Deep couches and chairs were situated around a simple oak mantled fireplace stained a deep brown, almost black, same as the furniture. It was lit and giving a pleasant glow. The dark wood flooring had large, elaborate throw rugs the colours of a bumblebee.

There were no windows this far down, but it had the effect of making the place seem even more comfortable and inviting. Brown earthen walls lit by torches and lined with canary yellow tapestries with crest of a black and yellow field showing the fierce Hufflepuff badger decorated the walls. There were perfectly round barrel top tunnels leading off to either side.

The place resonated with Albus on a deep level he couldn't explain. He just felt like he had arrived where he always had always belonged.

"Welcome to the Hufflepuff common room, or as we like to call it, The Cellar," the Head Boy said with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "Through the middle door on the left are three tunnel branches. You first years take the middle one. It branches off to two tunnels. The girls are on the left, boys on the right. There will be a list at that first branch listing where your assigned bunks will be; your trunks will already be there."

As the students filed wearily by, the Head Boy placed a gentle restraining hand on Albus' shoulder. "I would like to have a chat with you three if you don't mind," he said quietly, as their fellow students closed the tunnel door behind them.

Albus watched as Scorpius found a barrel top end table and laid the food on it. He leaned against the earthen wall and crossed his arms petulantly. Albus and Rose slumped down into a love seat suddenly weary as well.

"I'm Roderick Yates," the young man began. "My mother was a Diggory. You might have heard who my cousin was, maybe the most famous Hufflepuff of the last twenty years."

"Cedric Diggory, co-winner of the Tri-Wizard cup," came the reply not from the love seat, but from Scorpius. "Killed by Peter Pettigrew the night of Voldemort’s return to a physical body."

They all turned and looked at him, but he was studying the dark varnished oak plank flooring chewing his lip.

"That’s right," Roderick replied. "Take a look at this." He pointed to a plaque that was affixed to the mantel over the fireplace in a place of honour. It was cast in well-polished gold, showing a face very much like the young man in front of them with a warm smile and careless curls, apparent even in the stillness of the metal. On it was written:

Roderick waited until they gathered around and read it, then he made sure they met his eyes. "You three face a challenge that the other students don't have. Because of your last names, they're going to paint you as some kind of failure, since this is your House. They will accuse you of not being good enough to be somewhere better. Know this, if you are loyal, and true, willing to work hard for what you want to achieve, then you are a true Hufflepuff. There is nothing better than that!"

He paused to gather himself, then said, "My cousin, Cedric, was never ashamed of this house, even though he was the best at Hogwarts in his year. Don’t dishonour him and his legacy by hanging your head, no matter what your families think!"

His words lay heavy on the air and he gave them time to sink in, then he smiled and the charming young man was back.

He engaged them in conversation while Scorpius ate, answering any question that was put to him. In the end, he wished them a good night and left after receiving promises that they would be prompt in going to bed.

"No wonder he's Head Boy!" Rose exclaimed when the door to the boys’ dorm clicked shut.

"Yeah, he's nice," Albus said. It was then that he saw Scorpius pluck a furry little cat off of the ground.

"Kub? How did you get out here?" Scorpius asked as the cat playfully batted his nose.

Albus exchanged a look with Rose. "Careful, Mal-Boy. You keep that up, people might think you’re nice!" he called playfully.

Scorpius curled his lip."Perish the thought!" He fed Kublai a piece of left over ham. "Good night."

He carried his cat out, talking to him in quiet tones as he left the Common Room.

"Did we do the right thing, Al?" Rose asked, looking around at their new home.

Albus said, "It’s already feeling like home to me."

Rose smirked. "I hope dad gets over it."

Albus smiled. "It could be worse," he said, indicating the door that just shut after Scorpius.

"True," Rose replied.

Without another word, they hugged and left for bed.

Albus took the tunnel indicated by the list and wound up in a circular room with an elaborate wrought-iron chandelier, now dark. The floor was lined with five four posters with black and yellow bed-hangings. Albus' familiar trunk was sitting at the foot of a bed.

The walls had enchanted torches in gold sconces recessed into the earthen walls between the paired beds that gave just enough light without disturbing the sleepers. The lack of windows had the effect of making the darkness cave like, but the colours were extremely cheery.

Scorpius sat on the bed closest to Albus'. He was still in his robes, stroking Kublai, in what Albus was beginning to call deep-thought-mode.

Albus had one of those moments of insight that his Dad said were so uncanny, they should have named him Trelawney, not Albus. That statement had earned Dad a smack on the back of the head from Mum, although Albus wasn't sure why, she called it a "bad joke." He wasn’t sure what a Trelawney was, but he didn't think it was good. He just knew, without a doubt, that Scorpius was sitting there thinking about his family's reaction to his new House.

"Not unpacking won’t undo the Sorting, you know," Albus said quietly. The sound didn’t seem to be carrying, so he guessed there were muffling enchantments in place when the torches were out.

Scorpius looked up. His cool blue-grey eyes were blank. "What if I am close to Squib? I’ve never been around other wizards. I just assumed with my heritage, I must be passable." Almost as an after thought, he murmured, "Maybe I was fooling myself."

Albus decided to take a different tact. "Well, Rose and I were Sorted into this house and our parents are the saviours of the Wizarding World," he bragged straight-faced. "You’re hanging with Saint Potter’s kid now. Just hang back and bask in the glow."

"What am I worried about then?" Scorpius said dryly. "All I have to write on my N.E.W.T.'s and O.W.L.’s is that I hang out with Albus Potter, they’ll give me straight O’s for sure!"

"Exactly." Albus'straight face was crumbling. They both started smiling before too long.

Scorpius sat Kublai down on the black and yellow oriental carpet between the beds and the little fur ball crawled under to explore. He reached over and began rummaging through his trunk. Albus followed suit and they worked in silence, until Albus saw the latest copy of Which Broomstick? as Scorpius was laying his schoolbooks out of a side compartment for the next day.

"You already in the market for a broomstick?" Albus asked. "We aren’t even allowed to have those until next year."

Scorpius pulled the magazine out and flipped to a page pulling out the insert. He showed it to Albus who whistled when he saw the illustration. "That’s the new SkyBolt isn’t it?"

Scorpius nodded. "Yeah it’s really expensive, but it’s going to make all previous brooms obsolete within months!"

The wizard photo showed a pearl white, flawlessly finished racing broom rotating on a platform in the sky with perfectly shaped bristles that looked somehow artificial. "It’s made of a new polymer that will actually hold a spell like wood does," Scorpius said enthusiastically. "They are lighter and faster than any broom before and they come in four colours, ghost white, midnight blue and serpent green, and screaming banshee crimson. Wooden brooms will be outmoded in no time."

Albus thought the lines were beautiful, but it was somehow too synthetic.

"Is this the same company that made the Firebolt?"

"No, but it’s based on those same lines."

Albus shook his head. "Actually, the Firebolt is more slender here and the birch twigs are longer and more tapered."

Scorpius gave him a considering look. "You sound as if you've actually seen a Firebolt. They were only in production for one year, then the wizard that held the patent decided he didn’t want the broom to become so common everybody had one. To find one today would be unthinkably expensive!"

Albus nodded. "Unless your dad got one of the first series while he was still at Hogwarts."

Scorpius’ jaw dropped. "You’ve got to be kidding! You’ve actually seen a Firebolt?"

"It’s over the mantle at home. Dad started Apparating everywhere he went because he had too many people following him around. He said it was one of the worst things about becoming famous, that he could no longer fly his broom."

"You’ve got maybe the finest broom ever spelled hanging over the mantle? Like an old dusty family heirloom?" Scorpius seemed outraged at the thought.

Albus hid a laugh. "I thought you said the SkyBolt was going to make it obsolete in a matter of months."

Scorpius sneered at the advertisement. "This is a soulless mass produced product." His tone changed, became almost reverent. "A real Firebolt was individually stamped and hand carved with independently fitted twigs and elaborate gold engraving. You won’t find craftsmanship like that anymore, they're legendary!"

Albus gave his new friend a tolerant stare. "You seem to know more about it than I do." As he placed some socks out for the next day, he said, "Dad flew me on it one time, and I’ve never climbed faster on any other broom, I tell you!"

Scorpius had a faraway look in his eyes, unpacking forgotten. "All of the broom records are held by a Firebolt. The SkyBolt will soon break most of the speed marks, but the climbing diving and manoeuvrability will never be equalled."

Albus chuckled. "I’ll tell you what, you can write a love letter to it, and I’ll see if I can get you two together. I’ll expect a June wedding, Dad will want to give it away."

Scorpius snorted. "Very funny."

The preparations for bed went quickly. After the wall torches dimmed, a voice broke the silence.

"Albus?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Your welcome!"