Albus Potter had never been so excited in his life. He was sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, the train that he had longed to ride since he was six. He remembered the burning jealousy of last year, watching James head off to Hogwarts and reading his letters about spells and lessons and feasts and ghosts. But now Albus would be the one sending the letters.

His cousin, Rose Weasley, was sitting opposite him, flipping frantically through a spellbook the size of a watermelon. She strongly resembled her mother, Aunt Hermione, except for her flame-red hair, which hung in thick curls around her face.

“I don’t think I practiced Alohomora!” she said. “Mum said that it’s definitely taught in first year. I’m going to be behind!”

“Rose, no one’s going to have practiced. You’ll be brilliant,” said Albus. He was toying with his newly purchased wand. Twelve inches, unicorn tail core, cherry. Ollivander had been very enthusiastic about it.

“You haven’t practiced?” Rose asked, as though she had never heard of such a thing.

Albus shook his head.

“But you have to get ahead!” said Rose. “What if people like that Malfoy boy are really good?”

“I dunno,” said Albus. He didn’t want to discuss this. He was queasy enough as it was without thinking about lessons.

The countryside flew past them as the Hogwarts Express chugged on. Rose buried her nose in her book, leaving Albus to feed his barn owl, Ptolemy, who was on the seat next to him in a cage.

“Do you think you’d rather be in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?” Rose asked randomly.

“Ravenclaw,” said Albus automatically. “Your dad says that Hufflepuffs are really boring.”

“Yeah, Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad,” said Rose, looking out the window dreamily. “Mum almost got put there, but the Hat decided Gryffindor in the end.”

“Mmm,” said Albus, not really listening. He was mulling over what his father had told him on the Platform. He would have to ask the Sorting Hat to put him in Gryffindor.

The door to the compartment slid open. Molly, Fred and Dominique all entered. The three cousins couldn’t have looked more different. Molly was a very tall, slim second-year who had inherited Uncle Percy’s slightly pompous features. Fred was a first-year. His hair was brown and his skin was a shade darker then the other Weasleys. Dominique was also starting Hogwarts. She was just as beautiful as her mother, even at eleven. She had already been featured on the cover of Witch Weekly.

“Hey,” said Fred, flopping down next to Albus. “Trolley witch come around yet? I’m starved.”

“Nope,” said Albus, smiling at his cousins. They all saw rather a lot of each other.

“Victoire’s down the hall with all her friends, talking about Teddy,” said Dominique, rolling her eyes in a way that reminded Albus of his mother.

“What happened?” Fred asked, evidently out of the loop.

“Nothing really, Fred,” said Molly, in a superior tone.

“I wouldn’t call snogging in public ‘nothing,’” said Dominique. “Of course, she’s always fancied him. Goes on about it all the time.”

Victoire and Dominique shared a room in Shell Cottage and it was common knowledge that the arrangement suited neither of them.

“So what’s it like crossing the lake?” Albus asked Molly, the only person present who had ever done it.

“It can get pretty intense,” she said dramatically. “Last year it was raining and storming when we crossed. Joey Finnigan fell right out into the lake.”

Albus gulped. He was looking forward to arriving at Hogwarts less and less.

The trolley finally came around and everyone bought some sweets. Albus purchased a package of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans and then shared them with Ptolemy, who ate almost anything.

“Have any of you practiced spells yet?” Rose asked, her mouth full of Chocolate Frogs

They all shook their heads except Molly, who pulled out her wand, pointed it at Fred (whose hands were covered with melting Frog) and said “Scourgify!”

The effect was rather less then Molly had imagined; a lot of the chocolate disappeared, but much of it remained.

Albus and Fred both laughed, but Rose looked impressed. “When do they teach that spell?”

“Charms exams,” said Molly, her face going red in the time-honored Weasley tradition.

“Scourgify,” said Rose calmly, pointing her wand at Fred’s hands. All the chocolate disappeared instantly.

Fred hooted with laughter. “I guess she takes after Aunt Hermione.”

Rose tried not to look too pleased with herself, but there was a hint of smugness in her smile for the next hour.

The cousins discussed the Quidditch World Cup enthusiastically. The Potters had gotten into the Top Box only to witness America beat England 380-40.

“It was dismal,” said Dominique. “That idiot Zacharias Smith dropped the Quaffle twenty-four times.”

“Well, he got kicked off the team right afterwards,” said Albus. “My dad said that he went to school with him.”

While the others discussed the Cup, Molly and Rose huddled over their books and Albus clearly saw that Molly was looking up the Scouring Charm again.

As it grew darker outside the train’s window, Albus grew more and more nervous. He felt as though he had eaten twenty Peppermint Toads due to the knot of nervousness in his stomach.

He changed into his Hogwarts robes and his three cousins followed suit (Rose had changed before she even got on the train).

And then came the fateful moment when the Hogwarts Express screeched to a stop. Albus gathered up Ptolemy’s crate and he and Fred lugged his trunk down to the platform, which was crowded with children, all of them in their Hogwarts robes.

Albus put his trunk and Ptolemy’s crate in the pile of luggage that would be taken up to the castle. He looked out across the great black lake at the huge castle and his heart felt a surge of excitement.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years! Come with me!”

An enormous figure was coming towards the students, swinging a huge lantern. Albus smiled and waved at Hagrid, who raised his huge hand in return.

“Come on, firs’ years! This way to the boats!”

Albus saw James run off towards the horseless carriages, acknowledging his younger brother with a lazy wave. Victoire, Molly and most of the other students followed him.

“Watch it,” snarled a blond-haired boy who bumped into Albus.

“Sorry,” said Albus. It was clearly Scorpius Malfoy.

Rose came up behind Albus as they reached the edge of the lake, where a fleet of small boats were assembled. “Where’re Fred and Dominique?”

“Dunno,” Albus responded. “They’re here.”

Albus clambered into one of the small boats and helped Rose in. A boy with excessively curly hair and a girl with a dark bun and glasses got in after them.

Albus and Rose nodded to the two other children, but before they could say anything the boats began to skim across the black water of the lake, Hagrid’s large boat at the head of the formation.

Albus saw Fred and Dominique sharing a boat with Rita Thomas and waved to them. Fred waved back.

Looming ahead of them was the huge castle. Towers, turrets and battlements were sticking out of it and there was a great pair of doors just barely visible from their position on the lake.

“Squid!” shouted Hagrid, pointing. All the children looked around to see a huge tentacle sticking out of the water. A few people screamed, but Albus laughed. He was finally here, finally seeing all that James had written home about.

“Watch yer ‘eads!” shouted Hagrid, as the boats floated under a stone precipice. Albus lowered his head and when he looked up again, the little boats were grounding themselves on a pebbly beach.

Albus, Rose and the two others climbed out, as did the rest of the first-years. A couple of them were wet and shivering, presumably from a wave.

Hagrid led them up to the huge double doors and knocked heavily. Albus grinned at him, his fear dissipating slightly now that he had really arrived.

The doors opened. Standing there was a very pretty witch wearing mauve robes. She smiled toothily at the assembled first-years.

“Trip across the lake alright, Hagrid?” she asked.

“Smooth as could be,” said Hagrid. “This lot’s ready fer Sortin’.”

“Come on in,” said the witch. The children all walked into the impressive hall, most marveling at the huge staircase and the many, many doors that led to strange and unknown places.

Albus waved to Hagrid as the doors closed; he would evidently be taking another route into the Great Hall.

“I’m Professor Margaret Artemis,” said the long-haired witch, addressing the group of first-years. “I teach Charms here at Hogwarts. You must know that rule-breaking and tardiness will lose you House Points, correct answers and good work will win them. Whichever House has the most points at the end of a school year wins the House Cup.”

Professor Artemis stopped as though she was waiting for “ooh”s and “ah”s. When they did not materialize she went on hastily.

“The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I myself am a Hufflepuff and I hope that you treat your respective Houses like brothers and sisters while you’re here.”

There was a rather loud snort from Fred, which set off scattered giggling. Professor Artemis’s smile tightened.

“Wait here please. When we are ready in the Great Hall, I shall fetch you.”

Professor Artemis swept off and disappeared through a large set of doors. Albus barely had time to hear the excited babble of voices before it was closed.

The first-years began whispering amongst themselves. Many were near tears, others were still comparing the four Houses.

“I just hope I’m in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw,” said Rose, a hint of panic in her voice. “I mean our entire family’s been in Gryffindor.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Albus. His stomach was doing back flips and he could feel his palms sweating. He hastily wiped them on his robes.

After a few moments, Professor Artemis came out of the Great Hall again. “It’s time. Form a line.”

There was a fair amount of jostling and pushing, much of it by Alex Goyle, a big, ungainly boy who was right at Scorpius’s elbow.

They filed in through the doors. The Great Hall was even bigger then Albus had imagined. Its enchanted ceiling showed the calm, starlit night of the outdoors. Four long tables were arranged in the center of the Hall, while another table was filled with teachers and staff.

“That’s where Dad killed Voldemort!” said Albus, pointing at a carved circle in the stone floor.

“I see it!” said Rose excitedly.

The children filed towards a three-legged stool that was standing before the teacher’s table. An old, battered wizard’s hat sat on it, looking much the worse for wear. Albus recalled his father telling him that it had been set on fire during the Battle of Hogwarts. The burns still showed.

Albus scanned the four tables for people he knew. Molly, James, George Jordan and Victoire were all seated at the Gryffindor table. Albus grinned at his older brother, who gave him the thumbs-up.

A wide rip in the brim of the Sorting Hat opened and the few people still talking in the Hall fell silent as the Hat began to sing:

“It’s now been seventeen to the year

Since You-Know-Who ended his reign of fear.

He was vanquished in this very Hall,

Freeing those held in thrall.

But I must warn again

That safety has not always been

And those that now decide

That we’re in for a cozy ride,

May be the first to go!”

Here the Hat paused for a moment, as if to gauge its audience’s reaction. Indeed, most of the room looked puzzled and there was scattered murmuring.

“But now’s the time

To put me on

I’ll end my rhyme

For I see a yawn.”

The rip closed. There was a moment of silence as most people waited for the song to resume. When it did not, there was applause, although it was tentative.

“It usually just details the Houses,” whispered Rose. “But it didn’t mention them at all!”

Albus shrugged, too nervous to be very curious about the Hat’s song.

“Abbadon, Frank!” called Professor Artemis.

A burly, straight-haired boy walked up to the stool and shoved the Hat onto his head.

“SLYTHERIN!” yelled the Hat.

The Slytherin table applauded as Frank ran down to join them. It may have been the stories that his parents had told, but Albus thought that the Slytherins looked decidedly unpleasant.

It seemed to take an age before someone that Albus knew was called. To amuse himself, he counted the number of students that went to each House. Ravenclaw seemed to be having a lot this year.

Rita Jordan, a friend of Fred’s, soon had her turn. She was quickly Sorted into Gryffindor. Even from the line, Fred clapped loudly.

Directly after “Mallory, Lucas” became a Hufflepuff, Scorpius Malfoy sat down on the stool and eagerly jammed the Hat onto his head.

The entire hall sat in silence for five full minutes. And then the Hat screamed “GRYFFINDOR!”

Scorpius fell right off the stool in his surprise. He pulled the Hat off of his head and looked around, thunderstruck.

“Go to your table, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Artemis kindly.

A few people clapped as Scorpius sat dejectedly on the Gryffindor’s bench. James was not among them. He looked openly furious.

A few more people were Sorted, several of them going to Hufflepuff and the rest to Slytherin.

And then: “Potter, Albus!”

Albus walked slowly up to the stool. Rose whispered: “Good luck” and James whistled.

All eyes were on him, more so than the other children. The son of Harry Potter was a very interesting thing to most of the Hogwartians. Even some of the teachers looked especially attentive.

Albus picked up the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head. It was so large that it slipped over his eyes, leaving him in complete darkness. He sat down on the stool.

Well, well, said a small voice in Albus’s ear, Harry Potter’s second son. The first was an easy choice, but you, you’re a little trickier.

I want Gryffindor, thought Albus, remembering what his father had told him on the platform. Not Slytherin.

No, you’re not Slytherin material, said the Hat confidently. But you’d make a good Hufflepuff. You’re honest, fair and kind. You would make a welcome addition-

Albus felt himself break out in a cold sweat. No, Gryffindor!

Calm down, advised the Hat smugly. Do you have the nerve and courage of a real Gryffindor? Perhaps, but it’s hidden deep. Still, you seemed determined for-

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The last was for the whole Hall to hear. Feeling immensely relieved, Albus tore off the Sorting Hat and placed it on the stool amid boisterous applause. James was whooping.

He walked down to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to James, who punched him on the shoulder. “Knew you’d make it, Al!”

“Rodney, Gillian” was chosen for Ravenclaw and then the curly-haired boy was called (his name was Smithson, Robert). The Hat didn’t take very long to proclaim him a “GRYFFINDOR!”

Albus and the rest of the table clapped for him and Robert slid in next to Victoire looking very pleased with himself.

Albus examined the golden plates as “Saran, Shelby” was sent to Hufflepuff. His stomach was growling with hunger now that it had ceased acrobatics.

Scorpius was sitting all by himself looking sullen and grumpy. Albus couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for him (his friend Goyle had been immediately sorted into Slytherin).

At long last, Professor Artemis called out “Weasley, Dominique!”

Dominique ran over to the stool and put the Hat on her head. After a minute’s deliberation, the Sorting Hat yelled “GRYFFINDOR!”

The table cheered, Victoire loudest of all. Her younger sister trounced off to the Gryffindor table and sat down, her face flushed with excitement.

“Weasley, Fred!” shouted Professor Artemis. Fred came forward and put the Hat on his head.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

There were lots of cheers as Albus’s cousin joined the Gryffindors.

“Weasley, Rose!” called Professor Artemis. There were now only three or four children left.

Rose came forward, her face set in a strained expression. Albus saw that her limbs were shaking as she placed the Hat on her head in a slow, deliberate fashion.

The Hat took the longest time yet with Rose. At least ten minutes passed before it shouted “GRYFFINDOR!”

The other Houses were now looking rather upset with Gryffindor’s streak. Rose ran to the long table and sat down between Albus and James, a huge smile on her face.

The last few children were Sorted and just as “Zabini, Medusa” joined the Slytherin table, the Headmaster stood up.

He was an astonishingly young wizard, only twenty-five or thirty. His face was clean-shaven and had a boyish look to it. His robes were of a midnight blue. To Albus, he looked like a child playing dress-up.

“I’m your Headmaster, Nigel Tweak,” he said jovially. “I’m sure you’re all far too hungry to listen to a speech, so dig in!”

The golden platters immediately filled with food and Tweak sat down again.

“He’s really young,” said Albus to James, as he filled his plate with chicken wings.

“Youngest Headmaster in the history of the school,” said James, gulping down a hunk of bread. “He’s only like twenty-seven or something.”

As he ate, Albus scanned the high table. Hagrid was sitting in a reinforced seat and eating what looked like an entire hog all by himself. Beside him was a very old witch that he guessed was Professor McGonagall. When she saw him looking at her, she gave him the smallest of smiles.

On her right was Professor Artemis, who was talking with a middle-aged, short-haired wizard that Albus thought was probably John Dawlish, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. On his right sat Tweak, deep in conversation with a squat, large-nosed woman. Next to her was Professor Longbottom, who grinned at Albus.

“Sorting took forever this year,” said James, even though he was only a second-year. “You lot must’ve been in the middle.”

“I guess so,” said Albus, not about to tell James about the Sorting Hat’s instinct to put him in Hufflepuff.

When all the students had finished the feast, desserts appeared. Albus, who had a sweet tooth, dug into a large block of ice cream with fervor.

Soon, the desserts too disappeared and Albus was feeling full and contently sleepy. Tweak got up and made a droning speech, but Albus got little of it. When he was done, there was a great scraping of benches as the students got up for bed.

“Follow me,” said James cockily and the cousins all followed him out of the Great Hall and up several flights of stairs.

Fred bumped into Albus. “Check out the Malfoy kid. He looks about ready to cry.”

It was true. Scorpius was lagging along, not talking to anyone, his eyes on the stone floor. He looked very out of place.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached the famed portrait hall. Despite his tiredness, Albus felt his heart skip a beat. He had heard much about the Fat Lady and the common room--

“Password?” asked the painting. She was relaxing on a pouf and had not even opened her eyes to look at the Gryffindors.

“Godric,” said a huge seventh-year.

“Thank you,” said the Fat Lady lazily as the portrait swung open.

It was just as it had been described, a cozy, fire-lit room with red wall hangings and cushy armchairs.

“Our dorm’s on the left,” said James. “Girls on the right.”

There wasn’t much hanging around in the common room; everyone was too tired after the feast.

Albus bade goodnight to Rose, Dominique, Victoire and Rita as they tramped up their staircase to bed. Albus followed James up their staircase. There was a row of doors each with a year designation on them.

“You’ll be in first-year’s,” said James airily. “It’s a nice dorm, comfortable beds.”

“’Night, then,” said Albus, sleepily, opening the door. Inside was a very nice five-bed room that looked out of the Tower onto the grounds.

Fred, Scorpius, Robert and a black boy that Albus didn’t know filed into the dormitory; all but Scorpius looking delighted.

Albus changed into his pajamas (his trunk and Ptolemy’s cage had been brought up) and tucked into the bed nearest the window. The other boys followed his example, although it couldn’t have been clearer that Scorpius was miserable.

“Goodnight, Fred,” called Albus, as he closed his eyes.

“’Night,” he called back.

The last thought that Albus had before he fell asleep was My dad might’ve slept in this bed.