Good Night, Albus by Gmariam
Chapter Notes: These ten drabbles were written for the Ravenclaw Almost-Gauntlet. We were given ten prompts – words, quotations, and pictures – and instructed to write something for each prompt using a central character. I am sorry I cannot leave a link for each picture. I decided to write one or two prompts for each year Albus Severus Potter attended Hogwarts; the final one reflects back. This helped me develop him as the character you can meet in my story titled "Lost." I hope you enjoy this piece of character development and might consider reading more about him. Thank you for reading and reviewing!
First Year
Prompt: Tie
“Why, I do believe we have a tie!” exclaimed a voice in his head. Albus knew it must be the Sorting Hat, but even though his father had told him about his own sorting, Albus still didn’t expect the hat to actually speak to him.
“What’ll it be then, young Potter?’ continued the hat. “ Let’s see. . . “
Not Slytherin, thought Albus, much as his father had done many years earlier.
“Yes, yes,” replied the hat, “Your father said the same thing. I wasn’t even considering it.”
Albus breathed a sigh of relief. So it was one of the other three; he hoped it was Gryffindor, because his entire family had been sorted into that house. What would he do if he was placed somewhere else?
“Yes, I sense your bravery, and you will need it,” said the hat. “But you carry the names of two very wise and clever wizards, you know, and for good reason.”
Albus thought about that: his namesakes had been in Gryffindor and Slytherin. Slytherin was not an option and it sounded like the gat wasn’t thinking about Gryffindor as much as Albus had hoped. So it was either Hufflepuff or—
“Ravenclaw!” shouted the hat, and there was a moment of shocked silence in the Great Hall before the Ravenclaw table burst into the loudest cheers yet. Albus took the hat from his head and handed it to Professor Longbottom. His honorary uncle was obviously trying to hide his surprise as he patted Albus on the back and directed him toward his new house.
Albus looked longingly at the Gryffindor table, where his older brother was sitting with a look of complete disbelief on his face. Albus felt the same way: what had just happened? Every member of his family had been sorted into Gryffindor, all of his aunts, uncles, and cousins. How could he be the only one not placed there? Was he not brave enough?
The Ravenclaw table welcomed him with open arms. They were obviously thrilled that he had joined their house, though he felt little better for being so welcome.
The next boy, Marcum Sloane, was also sorted into Ravenclaw. Albus had met him on the train and knew that Marcum’s family was all in Hufflepuff. Albus imagined the look on Marcum’s face was very similar to the one on his own just moments earlier. Marcum sat down next to him but they were both still too stunned to say anything.
He finished his first feast at Hogwarts in relative silence, painfully aware that his family would probably be disappointed. He did not pay attention to the rest of the Sorting ceremony, and did not see his cousin Rose get sorted into Gryffindor; instead he picked at his food, lost in thought until a girl with long black hair came and sat down across from him. She looked at him until he began to feel uncomfortable.
“It doesn’t mean you aren’t brave, you know,” said the girl, startling Albus with her uncanny insight into his thoughts at the moment. “Or that you aren’t loyal to your family,” she added to Marcum. “It means your strengths lie elsewhere – just like mine.”
Albus exchanged a glance with Marcum, who hid a grin behind another glass of pumpkin juice. Who was this strange girl who seemed to know them already, and was offering unasked advice?
“You must be very intelligent, and I suspect you’ll like school quite a bit,” she continued. “I’ve heard they work hard in Ravenclaw, but still like to have fun. And it’s not like you can’t be friends with Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, after all.”
“And Slytherins?” Albus murmured under his breath.
“Of course Slytherins,” she replied calmly. “My whole family is in Slytherin.”
Albus glanced up in surprise.
“I’m Ophelia Zabini,” she said. “Welcome to Ravenclaw, Albus Potter.”
First Year
Prompt: What’s in the box (digital art)
"What's in the box?" asked Marcum curiously as he sat down to breakfast. He motioned toward the package in front of Albus as he took out his books and poured himself some juice. The owl post had just delivered the day’s mail and Albus had been surprised to receive a large box from his parents. He dreaded opening it, though, as he still wasn’t sure how his parents felt about his sorting. Their initial letter had seemed supportive, but he knew his brother was disappointed, and feared his parents might be as well.
“He won’t open it,” answered Ophelia from across the table. She was sitting with one of her roommates, a girl named Melinda. Unlike the rest of them, Melinda had been sorted into the right house: her family had all been in Ravenclaw, and she was excited to have continued the family tradition. Albus couldn’t help resenting her for that, and wished she hadn’t become a part of their small group so quickly, even if she did know more about the house than any of them.
Marcum seemed to immediately understand. He shrugged as he opened his Charms textbook and began going over the day’s lesson. “He’ll open it eventually. Probably just something you left at home, right, Al?”
Albus nodded gratefully; the girls had been bothering him about it ever since the post had come in. Ophelia had not heard from her family since she had failed to be sorted into Slytherin and Albus suspected she was hoping the Potters had sent their approval; it might make up for the silence of her own family and give her something to look forward to .
Marcum's family had immediately sent him all sorts of blue and silver gifts, including a poorly knit scarf from his younger sister. They may have all been in Hufflepuff but loyalty to their family came first and Marcum was congratulated on being sorted in the house of wit and wisdom. Albus was glad that he and Marcum had both ended up in Ravenclaw together; he would have felt completely alone otherwise. He just hoped his family was as supportive.
As the conversation continued around him, Albus found himself staring at the box. He was curious, yet nervous; excited, yet apprehensive. It was not like opening a Christmas gift or a birthday present. He remembered many happy occasions gleefully ripping the wrapping off some of his favorite gifts: the train set James accidentally tripped over and demolished, his first broom, a book of childhood spells and potions that he had kept under his pillow while he slept.
No, this box contained something much different: not a gift, but a response. It could either crush him and confirm his family’s disappointment, or celebrate his sorting and the new path he was on. Albus wanted his parents' approval, but feared what the box might reveal instead. He was starting to feel settled in Ravenclaw: he had found good friends in Marcum, Ophelia and even Melinda, and found that he truly enjoyed the rigorous study. He didn’t know if he wanted to shatter the excitement of his first week quite yet.
And so he took the box to Ravenclaw Tower, set it on a chair in his dormitory, and left it for the day. Whatever was in the box could wait.
Second Year
Prompt: Simple Life (digital art)
The weather was clear and cool, with a few white clouds floating lazily through the fall sky and a slight breeze ruffling the trees. It was perfect weather for Quidditch, and yet Albus’s stomach did a small flip-flop when he realized that his first match would be starting in less than an hour. He was far more nervous than excited, which his teammates assured him was normal; they, however, did not have to play against their talented, popular, older brothers in a rival house.
As Albus entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he made his way toward James, already sitting and laughing with friends at the Gryffindor table. James had been on his house team the previous year and did not seem tense at all about the upcoming match. He had practiced with Albus over the summer and been thrilled when Albus made the Ravenclaw team. Albus sat next to him, knowing he would certainly be teased, but not caring; even James’s taunting might help relax him and keep him from getting sick the moment he left the ground.
Teddy Lupin, two years out of Hogwarts and serving an internship with Professor Longbottom, was eating at the Head Table and walked down to join them when he saw Albus sit the Gryffindor table. “You don’t look so good, Al,” he observed as he poured himself a warm cup of coffee. “First match jitters?”
James turned around and grinned as he slapped Albus on the back. “You’ll be fine, little brother!” he said brightly. “Just stay out of my way and you should stay out of the Hospital Wing.”
“What?” Albus exclaimed. “The Hospital Wing?”
Teddy snorted across from them. “You’re one to talk, Jimmy. You spent half of your first match unconscious in the Hospital Wing, if I recall.”
James had the good grace to look somewhat abashed, and Albus nodded. “Yes, I remember now. You fell off your broom waving to that third-year girl.” The familiar teasing was already lifting his spirits.
“She did come see me,” James replied with a wink. “So I must have done something right. I think we even won!” He and Teddy laughed, and Albus grinned with them. He made a mental note not to wave at anyone during the match.
“Here, have some something to drink,” James said, offering him a tall glass of pumpkin juice. “You’ll need your strength to block all the Bludgers I send your way.”
“I’m faster than you,” Albus retorted, accepting the glass and drowning it quickly. “So try your best!”
Teddy Lupin threw back his head and laughed. “Oh-ho! Do I sense some brotherly competition here?” he asked. “Or just house rivalry?” He scrunched his face and his hair went from mousy brown to fiery crimson, and finally deep blue. “Who should I cheer for? Perhaps both of you?” And with a look of intense concentration, half of his head remained blue while the other turned crimson.
Applause broke out around him and Teddy waved gallantly to the table. Albus couldn’t help but laugh as he grabbed some toast and began slathering it with jam. He felt remarkably more at ease, and was glad he had come to his brother’s table. He may not be a Gryffindor, but most of his family was, and he was determined not to feel badly about it.
“Didn’t your dad almost swallow the Snitch in his first game?” asked Rose Weasley, sitting down the bench from them with friends.
James nodded and narrowed his eyes at Albus. “That’s right, he did. Better not try to swallow a Quaffle, Al—it might not come back up so easily.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “You’ll do fine, Albus,” she said as she got up to leave. “I’ll be cheering for you just so you can beat James. Deflate his big head a bit for us, please.”
Teddy and James gasped in mock surprise. “Treason!” James called after her. “And from my very own cousin. I’m shocked!”
Rose tossed a wave over her head and shot a few blue sparks from her wand as she left the hall.
“I’m not,” laughed Teddy. “You do give her a hard time. In fact, you give us all a hard time, so I say get him good, Al!”
Albus was heartened by the support of his friends and family. He stood up to head toward the Ravenclaw table for one last glass of juice. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you, James,” he said, giving his brother a fake punch in the arm. James dramatically pushed him away and everyone laughed again as Albus left. He turned, though, to deliver a parting line.
“I want dad to win the bet,” he called. “So no more waving at the pretty girls. I’m going to win fair and square.”
He imagined the confused look on James face as he headed toward his friends. The Ravenclaw table welcomed him warmly, wishing him luck, and he felt ready for his match as a Ravenclaw Chaser.
“Hey!” exclaimed James from the Gryffindor table. “What bet?”
Albus laughed as he exchanged a high-five with his friend Marcum. He was definitely ready—to win.
Third Year
Prompt: “There is no better exercise for your heart than reaching down and helping to lift someone up.” ~ Eric Hoffer
It was a Friday night and the castle was cold: February had brought several inches of snow to Hogwarts, and most of the students were outside enjoying it. Albus was making his way back to Ravenclaw Tower, tired after a long day of classes and Quidditch practice. Marcum was still outside, determined to take out a group of Gryffindors with charmed snowballs. James was one of those Gryffindors, and having experienced his brother’s skill with both snow and charms, Albus knew it would be a very wet return to the tower for Marcum.
He shook his head and smiled to himself as he hurried down the corridor. He walked right by a small girl who was crying on a bench beneath the windows. She was wrapped snugly in her robes with her knees tucked up, and sniffling as she stared blankly out the glass. He had just passed her and turned the corner when he realized she was one of his housemates, Melinda Seaton.
He struggled with his first impulse: should he check on her? Offer assistance? He had no idea how to help a sobbing girl. They were third-years now, she could be crying about anything. What could he do? He was tired and cold and just wanted to get back to his common room.
He also had to grudgingly admit that ever since their first year, he had not felt as close to her as Marcum and Ophelia. Melinda’s family were all Ravenclaws and she had been thrilled to follow in their footsteps; he, on the other hand, sometimes still wished he was in Gryffindor, particularly whenever he went home and had to listen to the rest of his family talk about it. Marcum and Ophelia had also been placed in a different house than their families and Albus felt that bond with them; but he had never felt that with Melinda, and now it held him back.
He heard her muffle another sob and sighed: how could he walk right by without stopping to say something? She was still his friend, after all. He would just have to use a bit of his Ravenclaw wit and wisdom to help her out.
Melinda turned when she heard him approach. Her blue eyes were red and puffy and she wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. She tried to straighten her robes as she sat up and said, “Hi, Albus. What are you doing here?”
Albus swallowed somewhat nervously. “Actually, I was just checking to see if you were okay. So . . . are you okay?”
“Oh,” she replied, sounding slightly surprised. “Um, yes – I’m fine, thanks.”
“You don’t seem fine,” Albus pointed out rather bluntly. He had no talent for this, even with a younger sister at home, and decided to take a direct approach.
“Yes, well . . . I’ll be okay,” she sniffed, and Albus saw her eyes well up again. He stifled another sigh as he realized he couldn’t leave now; he sat down next to her and gave her a small smile.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, hoping she would say no and feeling bad for his selfish thoughts. He was surprised at the look in her eyes: thankful, grateful, and encouraged.
“Maybe . . “ she began. She sat up a bit straighter and seemed to gather her thoughts. “Does Marcum like me?” she finally blurted.
Albus stared at her. “Of course he does,” he managed to stutter. “We all do, we—“
“No, no,” Melinda interrupted, shaking her head. “Not like that, not like friends. I mean – does he like like me? More than friends?”
“Oh.” In truth Albus did not know the answer. He and Marcum had never talked about it, though, so he suspected his best friend was probably not harboring any secret romantic feelings for the girl sitting next to him. But how could he tell her that without hurting her even more?
“I really don’t know, Mel,” he finally answered. “Have you asked him?”
She gave him a look that clearly indicated he was an idiot. “Actually, I asked him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade next weekend, and he said no.”
“Oh,” Albus said again, even more at a loss. “I guess not, then.” He knew he was completely ruining any attempt to offer comfort, yet he couldn’t help it: he was way out of his element now and wanted to run for support himself.
“Thanks, Al,” Melinda replied sarcastically. “You’re a real help.” She stood up and walked away, clearly offended.
“Wait!” Albus called. “I’m sorry, I’m no good at this. What did you want me to say?”
She turned around and gave him an icy look. “If I have to tell you what to say, what good is that?” She started to leave again. Albus decided he would never understand and said the first thing that came to mind.
“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?” he blurted. He almost bit his tongue for speaking without really thinking it through: he had actually hoped to explore a bit of Hogsmeade with Marcum. He didn’t know if he could spend the entire day with Melinda.
“Why are you asking?” she replied suspiciously.
“Because I don’t want you to feel bad,” he answered honestly. And then an idea came to him. “Plus, I might be able to talk Marcum into meeting us, if you want.”
She continued to stare at him before a slow smile began to spread across her face. Her eyes were still red and her nose was still running, but she was starting to look happier and that made Albus feel better. He may not have always said the right thing, but at least he had helped her to smile again.
Melinda finally nodded. “That would be really nice, Al,” she said. “Thank you.”
And to his surprise she walked back to him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.
As he watched her walk away, he tried to figure out what had happened. Had he just asked her on a date? To Hogsmeade? When she clearly wanted to go with Marcum? Albus shook his head; he only knew that somehow he had managed to help her without bungling it too bad, and he was glad he had stopped to say something after all.
Now he just had to figure out what to do for a day in Hogsmeade, and how to get Marcum to meet them there.
Fourth Year
Prompt: Turquoise
Albus Potter stood outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, waiting patiently for his cousin and siblings. Hugo Weasley paced impatiently beside him, tapping his fingers as he waited with his typical bundled-up energy. Hugo had been sorted into Slytherin the year before; the family was still in a bit of shock over it, though more than Albus and his cousins were. Slytherin wasn’t the same house it was when their parents had been at Hogwarts, and Hugo’s sharp tongue and strong desire to succeed fit in perfectly with the others in his class. Though some bad feelings still remained, Hugo did not seem to mind, and he had avoided any of the more unpleasant Slytherins like Scorpius Malfoy.
There were times, though, that Albus was sure Hugo wished he were in Gryffindor with the others, just as he did. He loved Ravenclaw as much as Hugo seemed to enjoy Slytherin, but he did miss his family and was glad they could still get together for special occasions at school, even if they couldn’t sit together in the same common room. Today was Rose’s birthday, and they were continuing the tradition they had started during Lily and Hugo’s first year of a having small party in the Room of Requirement.
Lily came falling out of the portrait hole, grumbling at James, who was pushing her to hurry up. Rose came out shaking her head but smiling. Hugo immediately jumped into the banter, and it wasn’t long before he and James were arguing over the last Quidditch match.
Albus walked with Rose. They talked about their classes, the latest gossip going around the school, and the upcoming holidays as they made their way to the seventh floor corridor. Lily tried to join them but Albus ignored her; she tagged along behind Hugo and James instead, trying to get a word into their discussion of the new wizard band, The Bezoar Brothers.
“Here, I want to give this to you now,” said Albus, pulling a small box from his robes. “Open it.”
Rose grinned as she took the gift and unwrapped it to reveal a small hair comb made from turquoise and wrapped with pale yellow ribbons.
“It’s lovely!” she exclaimed. “Thank you.” She pinned it into her hair and gave him a quick hug before continuing. “Ravenclaw colors, I see.”
Albus laughed; it had not been his intention when he had purchased it on his last trip to Hogsmeade, but Ophelia had pointed out the same thing. “It’s so everyone knows who you’re really cheering for at the next Quidditch game,” he said with a wink.
Hugo’s head whipped around. “She cheers for Slytherin, of course,” he said matter-of-factly. He turned back to his conversation about their uncle’s latest Weasley Wizard Wheezes product and did not see Rose stick her tongue out at him.
“Actually,” Lily piped in, “it’s your birthstone.” Albus looked at her, puzzled.
“Her what?” he asked.
His younger sister rolled her eyes as if she were talking to a five-year-old. “Her birthstone. Gemstones representing the month she was born. They have special powers.”
“They do?” asked Rose, looking amused. “Like what?”
Lily’s voice took on an animated note; Albus could tell this was something she was interested in. “Turquoise is for strength, wisdom, and protection. It’s supposed to bring good fortune and peace and is a symbol of friendship. It’s also a good healing stone and can be very soothing.”
“You got all that from a rock? Just because she was born in December?” teased Albus, amazed at his little sister’s unusual knowledge. He shook his head. “You are going to love Divination, Lily.”
“I know!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I can’t wait.”
“What’s Al’s birthstone?” asked Rose curiously as they made their way down the corridor toward the Room of Requirement. Lily seemed to be doing a quick calculation in her head.
“It’s topaz,” she replied. “It helps balance your emotions and calms passions, promoting creativity and self-confidence. It also helps to remove doubts and release tension. It can replace negativity with love and joyfulness and helps to inspire faith.”
They all stopped and stared at Lily, who simply shrugged. Hugo snorted and started walking three times up and down the deserted corridor. Albus hoped he got it right; last time Hugo had brought them into the Room of Requirement, he had been talking about Quidditch. They had ended up in a room full of nothing but brooms and Quaffles that had chased them out.
“Well, happy birthday,” Albus said. “I put a charm on it so it will keep your hair in place, but maybe it will protect and heal you too!”
“Yeah, maybe it will keep Scorpius Malfoy away!” called Hugo from inside the Room of Requirement. They stepped in: it was ablaze with fairy light as hundreds of the tiny winged creatures circled a large Christmas tree standing in the center of the room. A blazing fireplace warmed the space and a table nearby was covered in sweets. It looked remarkably like the Burrow, only much larger.
“What does that mean?” asked Lily, following them inside. She gasped at the beautiful room. “Nice job, Hugo!”
“Never mind,” said Rose firmly, blushing slightly. “It’s nothing.”
“He totally fancies you,” said Hugo, already taking his second pasty from the table. “Stupid git.”
James finally spoke up from the fireplace across the room. “He’s right, Rose. Malfoy’s a git. Forget about him.”
Rose threw up her hands. “Okay, okay! Don’t forget, it’s my birthday, you know. No more picking on me over something that will never happen.”
As the others brought out their gifts, Albus gazed around the warm and cozy room. He was very glad his father had told Lily the secret of the room when she started Hogwarts. He was even more glad that in spite of being in three different houses, the five of them could still hang out as both family and friends. He knew his father would approve – even if they stayed out after hours. It was a special occasion, after all, and perhaps the turquoise would protect them all from being caught.
Fifth Year
Prompt: Pristine
The rock skipped easily across the lake, nine or ten times, eliciting a cheer from Marcum as he turned and grinned at Albus. “Beat that!” he whooped.
Albus looked up from the book he was trying to study and rolled his eyes. “I already did,” he replied as dryly as he could. “I got twelve. Besides, we need to go over this, the exam is tomorrow.”
Marcum groaned as he threw himself down next to Albus; but instead of picking up his own work, he sprawled lazily in the warm grass, tossing his last rock into the air. It was a beautiful, pristine summer day and they had just finished their Charms O.W.L. The final exam for Potions was the next morning. Like his father, Albus was not always comfortable with Potions class, and he worried about this last exam the most.
“I’m ready,” Marcum said confidently. “Ask me anything.” He propped himself up on one elbow and waited for Albus to start quizzing him. A light breeze ruffled his brown hair and he tucked it back out of his face as he affected a look of intense concentration.
“When do you have to pick fluxweed for Polyjuice Potion?” Albus asked first.
“The full moon,” Marcum answered immediately. “Next.”
“What does sneezewort, scurvy-grass, and lovage create when brewed together?” Albus continued.
Marcum pretended to yawn. “A Befuddlement Draught.”
“How do you brew a Babbling Beverage?”
Marcum told him, in exhaustive detail, with a huge grin on his face the entire time. Albus finally slammed his book shut and sighed. The sunny optimism of the afternoon suddenly seemed much darker, as he realized how much he still didn’t know. “How do you do that? I study twice as much as you and I still don’t feel like I’m ready.”
Marcum shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just easy for me. Besides, you know it much better than you think. Here—what’s the antidote to a Swelling Solution?”
“A Deflating Draught,” Albus answered after thinking about it for a moment.
“What direction do you stir a sleeping draught first?” continued Marcum
“Counterclockwise.”
“What’s the most important ingredient in the Draught of Living Death?”
“Asphodel.”
“Why?”
“Because it connects the wizard to the afterlife while tethering him to his body.”
“There you go!” Marcum clapped, flipping onto his back again. “You know this stuff. You can do it. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up in N.E.W.T. level Potions next year.”
Now it was Albus’s turn to shrug. “Maybe. Doubt it.” He threw down his book and stretched out in the grass next to Marcum. He watched the clouds float by as he wondered about sixth year.
“I probably will,” Marcum continued after a long silence. “As long as I get an O. I think Potions is one of those things you need for the Ministry.”
Albus looked over in surprise. “You want to join the Ministry?” he asked. “You know what you want to do already?”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it,” Marcum replied. “I think I’d like to work in Magical Law Enforcement, or maybe Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.”
“Oh,” said Albus, at a loss for words. Although he had heard quite a bit about the Ministry from his father, he hadn’t give much thought to his future career at all: he just wanted to pass his O.W.L.s and make it to N.E.W.T.s.
Marcum sat up abruptly. “Listen to us. We need a break.” He jumped up and pulled Albus to his feet with him. “Come on, let’s get wet.” He peeled off his shirt and shoes and began running toward the lake. The squid was swimming idly with a number of other fifth-years obviously in need of some time away from their studies as well.
Albus grinned as he hurried to catch up. Potions could wait an hour, and he would worry about his career another day; right now he was getting wet.
Sixth Year
Prompt: “The secret of success is constancy to purpose.” ~Benjamin Disraeli
“It’s no use,” Albus sighed. “We’ll never get it.”
Ophelia pushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Yes, we will. We’re not giving up.” She looked stubbornly determined, and Albus wished he had half of her certainty at that moment; he felt unusually defeated by this particular spell.
“I am,” he replied, throwing himself onto the floor and sprawling out. It was the end of a long week of classes, and they had been working for over two hours; he was exhausted, and had an early morning Quidditch practice he was dreading.
“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “We just have to find the right happy memory.”
Albus laughed out loud: how was he supposed to find a happy memory when she was practically breathing fire down his neck? They had been trying to cast a Patronus for days, but neither seemed to be able to manage it. He was frustrated and disappointed, and did not think he would ever find the right memory now.
He kept laughing when he realized how ludicrous it was to try to force something like happiness – no wonder they had failed! They were trying too hard to do something which should probably come naturally. Soon he was laughing so hard his eyes were watering and he had a stitch in his side. Slowly Ophelia began to grin, as she too seemed to understand just how ridiculous their situation was. She sat down on the floor of the empty classroom and joined him, chortling as they celebrated their failure.
That was how Marcum found them: giggling as they made up the most absurd memories they could imagine. They were red in the face, doubled over clutching their stomachs; he stood there staring at them until he finally coughed to get their attention.
“Everything all right?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “Or is this a private party?”
Albus helped Ophelia to stand, still laughing. “Oh, join us, by all means,” he managed as he tried to catch his breath. Ophelia snorted as she straightened her robes. “We could use some new ideas.”
“You’re not still working on the Patronus Charm, are you?” he asked, shaking his head. “Because it doesn’t look like you’re doing too well.”
“We are complete and utter failures!” Ophelia declared, which sent her and Albus into another fit of giggles. Marcum rolled his eyes.
“You’re Ravenclaws,” he said simply. “What’s the problem?”
Albus shrugged as he wiped away more tears of laughter. “We can’t seem to find the right happy memory to conjure a Patronus. Can you?”
Marcum didn’t answer. He stepped back, raised his wand, and murmured, “Expecto Patronum!” A soft silver mist dripped from the tip of his wand and coalesced into the figure of a strong wolf. It circled the room a few times before Marcum waved his wand and it vanished. Albus and Ophelia stared at him as he took a playful bow.
“What’s your memory?” Ophelia demanded without thinking.
Albus noticed that Marcum blushed and wondered what would make his friend embarrassed. “It’s private, thank you very much,” said Marcum. “The trigger doesn’t necessarily have to be a specific day or event, you know: it can be just a general feeling, something – anything - that makes you truly happy.”
Albus nodded as he watched his roommate, who was still blushing. Marcum was his closest friend: they had met on the train to Hogwarts and had immediately bonded when they were sorted into the same house. They had been inseparable for almost six years. Albus knew that Marcum’s calm demeanor tempered his more fiery disposition, and his stubbornness and determination pushed Marcum to work harder. They got along well and complemented each other even better.
As he thought about these things, a feeling of peace and contentment came over him, and silently he turned away from his friends. He raised his wand, took a deep breath, and muttered the incantation under his breath.
A silver mist floated from the tip of his wand.
“Great job, Al!” cried Marcum as Ophelia clapped and cheered. “Try it again, see if you can get it to solidify more.”
Albus looked back at his friends and smiled. The encouragement filled his heart. He turned and cried, “Expecto Patronum!”— then gasped as a slim silver fox erupted from his wand and moved around the room. It stopped in front of him and seemed to nod its head to him; he reached out to touch it just as it disappeared.
“Wow,” breathed Ophelia.
“That was fantastic!” crowed Marcum, clapping him on the back.
Albus just stood there grinning at his friends: he had done it.
And he had discovered what made him truly happy.
Seventh Year
Prompt: Ignorant
The castle was nearly empty, as most of the students either made their way to Hogsmeade for an afternoon of fun or relaxed outside by the lake on the unusually warm day. Albus had just seen his friends off and was returning to his dormitory before meeting Rose. A small part of him wished he was spending his free time with Marcum, Ophelia, and Melinda, but he was also glad of the chance to have the day to himself. He needed to think about a lot of things that had happened between him and Marcum recently, and hoped he might have a chance to talk to Rose about it.
As he turned the corner, he ran straight into a fellow seventh-year student, Jackson Smith. The other boy was in Hufflepuff, and although Albus did not know him well, he did not have any problems with him either. Mumbling an apology, he tried to continue on his way, but Smith seemed determined to pick a fight.
“Watch where you’re going, you prat,” he snapped. He pushed Albus aside, and Albus felt his temper – usually too quick to ignite – flare with the rude treatment.
“Watch yourself, Smith,” he snapped back. “I said I was sorry.”
Smith gave him a withering look. “Apology rejected. Try again.”
Although he wanted to hex Jackson, Albus took a deep breath and shrugged; usually Marcum was by his side to calm him, but this time he was on his own. “Whatever. Sorry.” He turned his back and walked away, highly aware of both the insult and the easy target his retreat provided.
“Your boyfriend’s turned you soft, Potter!” called Smith.
Albus whirled around and fired a silent jinx at the blond-haired boy, and was rewarded when Smith’s face erupted in large boils. “I don’t think so,” he replied, trying to sound casual even as his blood began to simmer at the implied insult.
Smith took out his wand and waved a countercurse over his head to clear the swelling. “I must have hit a sore spot,” he remarked. “You haven’t hexed anyone in the corridors for a while. Sloane usually keeps you on a tight leash.”
“Leave him out of this,” replied Albus, advancing with his wand drawn. Smith raised his own wand and scowled.
“Why? Because I’m right and you’re sleeping with him?” he taunted.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Albus snapped, though he felt terrible for saying it. “And he doesn’t keep me on a leash.”
“Oh, you like it the other way around, then?” Jackson raised his eyebrows suggestively. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type, but I guess it takes all kinds.”
Albus fired a Stinging Hex, which Smith parried and sent flying into the wall next to them. He cast a silent spell of his own; Albus just barely managed to throw up a Shield Charm as he felt his hair begin to smoke.
“What do you want?” Albus ground out as they began to circle each other. He seemed to recall seeing Smith fighting with his girlfriend in the Great Hall earlier and wondered if the boy was just sore over it.
Smith shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just bringing it out into the open.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.” Albus felt another silent curse and blocked it; he cast one of his own but Smith’s Shield Charm stopped it as well.
“Don’t I? Maybe you’re still in the closet, then. Everyone else knows it.”
Albus felt the blood go to his face. He snarled and cast a powerful Tripping Jinx. Jackson tried to block it but could not and fell hard to the ground. Albus was immediately on top of him; instead of putting his wand at the boy’s throat, he simply punched him hard in the face. He pulled his fist back and would have continued if he hadn’t heard someone behind him.
“Albus!” cried his cousin Rose. She ran over and grabbed his arm. “Stop it, he’s not worth it. Come on, let’s go.” She pulled him off of Smith and guided him away, throwing Jackson a look of pure venom over her shoulder.
“That’s right, Potter – run away! Maybe your cousin can explain it to you.” He stood and wiped the blood from his face, which he spat onto the ground before he turned his back and continued down the corridor.
“Explain what?” asked Rose, her face a mixture of concern and anger. “How could you do that? He’s just some Hufflepuff, Al. What did he say that bothered you so much?”
Albus sighed. It wasn’t what Smith had said that had bothered him, not exactly. It was that Smith was right—and he had just refused to see it, to admit it.
Until then.
“Can we talk?” he asked, and taking a deep breath, he told her.
Seventh Year
Prompt: Pub Garden (digital art)
“I need to talk to you,” said Albus, abruptly throwing down his books. He couldn’t study anyway: it was a beautiful spring day and N.E.W.T.s were two weeks away, but there was too much on his mind for him to enjoy it.
“Okay,” replied Marcum, sitting across from him on the grass by the lake with his Charms book in his lap. He waited expectantly.
Albus felt his face go pale and his breath catch in his throat; he almost couldn’t say anything. “I think I’m interested someone.” He took a deep breath. “You.”
Marcum raised his eyebrows. “Er. . . I think you’re interesting too,” he replied with a smile and returned to his work.
Albus looked at his hands, uncertain what to do. Whatever he said next could possibly destroy his relationship with his best friend. Yet if he didn’t say anything, he might never know what could have been.
“I mean, I wonder if we could be more than just friends,” he murmured, recalling the time Melinda had said something similar about Marcum third year; nothing had ever happened between them, but this felt different. He was still too nervous to look up but heard Marcum put down his book and sigh.
“I know what you meant,” Marcum said just as softly. He too avoided eye contact, and Albus hated the sudden awkwardness that had sprung up between them. He almost wanted to forget that he had ever said anything.
The silence stretched on.
“Never mi—“ began Albus.
“I think I feel the same way,” Marcum said at the same time. He paused for a long moment. “It’s confusing, though.”
Albus couldn’t help but grin with relief. “I know it is.” He wanted to laugh with the happiness he felt at that moment, but Marcum did not look ready for celebration. He seemed troubled, and the fleeting moment of joy turned to worry just as quickly. “What’s wrong then?” he asked.
Marcum took a long time to answer. “I don’t think Hogwarts is the place for us.”
“We’ll be done next month,” Albus pointed out. He remembered his run-in with Jackson Smith just weeks earlier, and knew Marcum was right.
“It won’t be any easier out there,” Marcum countered.
Albus shrugged; they could face those obstacles later, should they appear. “We’ll have each other,” he said, and then winced at both the cliché and the presumption.
Marcum smiled. “I know, “ he replied. “I don’t know if our families will be happy, though.”
Now it was Albus’s turn to sigh. Though he had talked to Rose, he had given little thought to how the rest of his family would react. Yet as he did, he knew they would accept it; it might take a while, but they would understand.
Marcum’s family would understand as well. Albus had met them several times and had little doubt they would be supportive. Marcum’s Hufflepuff loyalty was keeping him from realizing this; he just didn’t want to let them down. Albus said as much, and after a moment, Marcum nodded.
“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. “It’s still scary.”
“I’m scared too,” Albus said softly.
“But brave enough to say something,” Marcum replied. “I don’t know if I would have, ever.”
“It’s my Gryffindor heritage.” Albus smiled, and this time they lapsed into a comfortable silence.
“Have you told anyone?” Marcum finally asked.
“Just Rose,” Albus replied. “She was really understanding. How about you?”
Marcum rolled his eyes. “Ophelia guessed months ago. She knows us pretty well, I think.”
Or everyone in the school knew except us, Albus thought sourly, reflecting again on his fight with Jackson Smith. He brushed it off, determined not to let bad memories ruin an otherwise beautiful day.
The sun was shining and the lake was as clear as a mirror. A butterfly fluttered by, black and white and yellow, its wings flapping effortlessly as it circled them and landed on a nearby bush. Albus was suddenly struck by its simple beauty, and his mind wandered as he thought about the transformation a caterpillar went through to become such an extraordinary creature.
He realized that he and Marcum had just undergone a similar transformation, and that it felt right, no matter what anyone said. Smiling to himself, Albus reached over and squeezed Marcum’s hand, determined to make it work.
Post-Hogwarts
Prompt: Growth
Sorting. Quidditch. O.W.L.s.
As he rocked quietly back and forth, James remembered his days at Hogwarts with affection. He had made life-long friends and had set out on his career path there. He had even met his future wife at school, though he certainly didn’t know it at the time. He hadn’t thought of how similar and yet how different it had been for his brother, starting with Albus’s Sorting.
Ravenclaw.
James had been shocked—they all were. And while a small part of him was happy to not share a house with his younger brother for once, a bigger part grew to miss Albus’s presence in the Gryffindor common room. Yet it was quickly apparent that Ravenclaw was the right place for Albus, who had always been keenly studious and determined.
Picking up a nearby photo album with his free hand, James gazed fondly at the first photo before him, smiling faces waving happily. Ophelia Zabini, Melinda Seaton, Marcum Sloane: Albus’s faithful friends, laughing as first-years in the Ravenclaw common room. They had been close, and James couldn’t help but wonder what experiences they had shared in Ravenclaw, what memories they formed.
There was the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. James remembered his brother’s first game – their lighthearted banter at breakfast, the excited energy of the match. Ravenclaw had won, and though James had pretended to be sore, he had been secretly proud of his younger brother’s performance.
Next was a picture of the five of them: James, Albus, Lily, Rose, and Hugo. They had been closest of all the cousins and had somehow maintained that bond at Hogwarts even after Hugo was sorted into Slytherin. James remembered the first time Lily had shown them the Room of Requirement, and the many happy times spent there.
Marcum had been visiting the Potters when O.W.L. scores had arrived after Albus’s fifth year. There they were, the two of them grinning in delight – Ravenclaw to the bone with eight O’s a piece. And then N.E.W.T.s – Albus had made Aunt Hermione so proud.
James smiled to himself as he flipped through the rest of the book. He felt tears begin to sting his eyes: so many pictures, so many memories. It was like watching his little brother grow up all over again. The last photo was of Albus and Marcum, arms slung around each other as they waved for the camera. They were in Scotland, visiting Loch Ness, and happiness radiated from their smiling faces. Behind them reared the Loch Ness kelpie, and James laughed away his tears at the absurdity of the couple’s last photo together. It had been over three years ago now.
With a sigh, James set the book down next to him and carefully stood up. The quiet bundle in his arms hadn’t stirred once: he had slept through the entire book, completely disinterested in his father’s recollections, oblivious to his uncle’s memories. James shook his head fondly, caressing his son’s soft cheek.
“Don’t worry, Albus,” he said quietly. “We’ll make sure you know all about your uncle when you grow up. He was a good kid, just like you.”
James tucked the boy into his cot; he immediately flipped over and sprawled out on his stomach, just like his namesake had done. James laughed silently as he rubbed his son’s back.
“He was a good man, too,” he added softly. He wanted to continue, to tell his son all about his Uncle Albus, but the baby cooed as he reached out for a stuffed toy and James simply gave him one last kiss before leaving the room.
“Good night, Albus,” he whispered from the doorway. He looked around the room with a sad smile. “Good night, Al.”
***