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.