Albus Potter rubbed his eyes before staring at the ceiling above his bed. This was it. This was the day. He was finally going to Hogwarts. He would not be stuck at home with stupid Lily anymore; he would finally be able to go to school for magic, not for Muggle things such as maths, grammar, and his personal nemesis—science.
He could not help the stupid grin on his face as he rolled out of bed in his red and gold pyjamas. He was going to be a Gryffindor, brave and true, just like his dad, just like his mum, and just like James. His trunk caught the corner of his eye, or, more specifically, what lay within. Surreptitiously, he popped open the lid and took out what was now his most prized possession: his wand.
It was willow and unicorn hair, nine and a half inches, quite flexible. The sales witch at Ollivander’s had told him that it would be ideal for Transfiguration and jinxes. When one’s brother happened to be James Sirius Potter, the latter would probably come in handy.
He padded over to his mirror, wand in hand, and made the most fearsome face that he could. He waved the wand, muttering nonsense that Muggles thought were ‘magic words’, relishing the feel of the warmth in his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he aimed the tip of the wand at the mirror image of himself. The sound of shattering glass followed the minute jet of blue light that had escaped the wand.
Almost on cue, he heard Ginny shout from down the hall, “Albus! Stop playing around and get dressed!”
Albus glowered at his bedroom door. Sure, he thought. Don’t check if I’m okay; just yell at me. Ace parenting you have there, Mum. He sulkily headed for the bathroom, avoiding the pile of jagged glass shards on the floor. When he opened the door to the loo, he sighed in frustration; on the counter was a small, neatly folded pile of clothing.
Ginny had picked out his clothes…again. Merlin, the woman had no taste at all. They were pleated slacks, a white button-up shirt, a burgundy knit sweater vest, and a rather nauseating pair of Argyll socks. She had always claimed that such things were tidy and made a good impression, but to Albus, it was a ruddy clown suit. He preferred his own uniform of old jeans and T-shirts of dubious cleanliness.
With a sigh, he absently turned on the water and began undressing. When he was satisfied with the amount of steam billowing from the tub, he pulled back the shower curtain. His eyes widened, and his voice elicited a rather unmanly shriek of horror when he saw what was in the bottom of the tub.
A snake sat, coiled and ready to pounce, its forked tongue flickering fearsomely. How could a snake have possibly got into the house, let alone into the tub? It was far too large to have come up through the drain…or was it? One thing was for sure: Albus did not want to find out.
He backed away from the unwelcome guest, but as he did, he noticed something that was just…off about this snake. The tip of the tail was orange! What kind of snake had a—
Albus was no longer afraid; he was now thoroughly annoyed. He pulled his pyjama bottoms back on and stormed out of the bathroom and down the hall. When he reached James’s bedroom door, he slammed it open, chest heaving in indignation. “What the hell!”
James was smirking in a way that told Albus that he had, indeed, found the culprit. “Why, Al, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Whatever do you mean?” The sickeningly sweet tone of voice told Albus everything he needed to know.
“What’s the big idea, leaving one of Uncle George’s fake snakes in my shower? I nearly had a fit!”
His brother merely chuckled like the git that he was. “Well, the newest Slytherin can’t be without his own snake, you know. I was just helping you get prepared. You know you’ll end up in Slytherin.”
Albus could feel himself grow pale. “That’s not true! I’m going to be a Gryffindor, like Dad! Slytherin is for bad people, and I’m not bad!”
Mischief sparked in James’s eyes. “Oh, but what about that time when you pulled Rose’s hair just to bug her? Or the time when you locked Lily in the bathroom because she accidentally ripped your favourite book?” James began to look serious. “If that doesn’t make you bad, then I don’t know what does.”
He had not thought of that. Those were bad things that he had done, and he had done them without remorse and would have done them again in a trice. Did wanting to get back at people make him evil? He sure hoped that it did not.
Without another word, Albus wandered out of the room, his mind mulling over what James had said. Would he be a Slytherin, or was he brave enough to make up for his obvious character flaws?
Mid-thought, Albus came to the conclusion that, no matter how true James’s accusations were, no one was going to get the best of him. His brother was asking for it in a big way. With a smirk, he returned to his own room and sifted through his sock drawer for something that he had been saving for the perfect occasion. And this was it.
He eyed the dark brown bulb with a smirk and set back toward James’s room. He opened the door. pulled the string, and threw it inside and ran like hell. Listening to the accompanying squeal of horror paired with no small amount of irritation made Albus feel warm and tingly in his belly. There was no question about it; Dungbombs were divine.
When he returned to his room, Albus decided to proceed with his shower as planned. The fake snake found itself pinched between his thumb and forefinger and held at arm’s length before it was hurled into the far corner, behind the toilet.
His remaining morning ablutions were blissfully uneventful, even to the point where he did not even mind his mum’s choice in attire. He was even humming as he strolled from the loo, ready to go, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his dad, sitting on the bed and looking much too stern for so early in the morning.
“Albus,” Harry said quietly.
“Dad,” Albus replied, his voice meek. “Are we, er, ready to go now?”
Harry stood and paced around the room, seeming to examine everything that crossed his path. “Not quite, son. Not quite.” He stopped his perusal at the shattered mirror. “Playing with your wand, I see.”
Albus gulped. “Yeah. Didn’t know it would do that.” It was true, after all. Besides, it was not like Harry could not fix the mirror with a flick of his own wand. This had to be something else for which he was in trouble.
And he was right. “Al,” Harry continued, “your brother’s room is coated with dung. Any insight as to how that came to be?” Harry’s green eyes, identical to Albus’s, bore straight into his soul and into his very brain. It was as if his mind was an aquarium, and his father was looking into it, seeing everything.
“I, er…” Albus was nearly in shock. The feeling of total mental transparency disconcerted him. Despite the layers of clothing he wore, it was almost like he was standing there naked. It was all he could do to avert his eyes and break the contact. “I threw a Dungbomb in there.”
Despite the admission, Harry did not seem angry. He merely strode over to stand in front of Albus. His hands fell gently onto his son’s shoulders. “Why did you do that?”
Biting his lip, hoping that it would be enough to get him out of the worst of the trouble, Albus said, “He put a fake snake in my shower to scare me.”
At this point, Harry’s attention was diverted from the putrid attack on James and settled on what had precipitated it. “Is there anything that you’d like to tell me, son?”
Each time Albus opened his mouth to spill his innermost terrors of being Sorted into Slytherin, his voice would betray him and lodge in his throat. He felt such intense shame that there was even a possibility of such a thing happening, and he could not bear to give the notion life by even saying it aloud.
Harry obviously knew that Albus did, indeed, want desperately to say something, but he also realised that his son was not quite ready to share that information yet. Instead, he patted Albus’s shoulder and said, “Just make sure you’re ready to go in twenty minutes.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Albus blurted, “Do I have to say I’m sorry?” He could have kicked himself. Harry had essentially let him off free of punishment, but, instead of taking what he was given, he had to stick his foot in his mouth like a complete prat.
The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched. “I don’t know. Are you?”
Now, Albus was really confused. “Am I what?”
“Are you sorry? If you could go back, would you do it again?”
Albus looked for any sign he could that his dad was joking, but there was only earnestness, sprinkled liberally with mirth, in Harry’s eyes. That was when he knew that the only thing that he could say was the truth. “Not in the slightest. He had it coming.”
Harry tousled Albus’s already disobedient black hair. “Well, then it won’t do to apologise, now, would it?” With that, Harry flicked his wand three times: once to repair the mirror, once to open the door, and once to lift Albus’s trunk. He looked over his shoulder as he left and said, “Remember, now. Twenty minutes.”
When the door closed behind Albus, he felt a curious sensation wash over him. How he had managed to not get into severe trouble for what he had done to James completely escaped him, but, somehow, he knew that Harry had understood on some level why he had done it. Sure, his dad did not know precisely what had prompted James to leave the snake, but he knew that, for whatever reason, Harry was on his side.
About fifteen minutes later, it was time for Albus to head down the stairs, but a disturbance in the hallway stopped him in his tracks. He could hear two voices, which belonged to Harry and James. As he strained to hear what was being said, he felt guilty when he finally did.
“…And I don’t want to hear so much as a word that you did something like that again. Do you understand me?”
Dad sounds mad, Albus thought. I wonder if it’s about—
His musings were cut off by James sniffling. Was he…was he crying? Albus could scarcely believe his ears. Their dad had brought James—James—to tears for what he had done with the snake! Though it had been a completely horrid thing to do, Albus could not help but feel sympathy for his older brother, to whom pranking and joking came as second nature. The tongue-lashing that he had obviously received just seemed rather harsh in comparison to the actual deed.
Fearing that he was eavesdropping in on something that he should not have heard, Albus tiptoed down the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could. At the base of the stairs sat his and James’s trunks, so he took a seat on his own and stared straight at the wall, just in case anyone were to accuse him of listening in on James getting told off.
A few minutes later, a sullen and reserved James came down the stairs alone. He looked at Albus reproachfully before taking a similar stance of sitting on his trunk.
Albus knew that he should probably say something. “Listen, James, I—“
“Shut up, Al. I don’t even want to hear it.”
And that was that. Albus decided that he was not going to bring up anything else—at all—to James about the subject. That personal vow extended the entire duration of the car ride to King’s Cross Station. Neither Harry nor Ginny said anything to them, save for random reminders of things that they needed to remember for school. James was to use his broom servicing kit after each use, especially before Quidditch tryouts, and Albus was to remember the myriad of ghosts and apparitions that inhabited the halls of the school. The rest of the stillness was disrupted by Lily chattering on and on about Merlin knew what, but no one, perhaps save for Ginny, was paying attention.
In a way, the mundane nature of their conversation was a comfort, which distracted Albus from the impending fact that his life was about to change drastically. What had seemed like the grandest adventure of all just that morning was quickly turning into a march into the belly of the unknown. And the unknown was scary.
Harry pulled the car into a vast multi-storey car park. None of them had ever seen such a building before. It was just so awe-inspiring, especially when Albus tried to think of how many vehicles must be inside of it. Each of the slots in its massive walls revealed a fresh slew of Muggle cars. Rather childishly, he wondered, when they were parked and left for the station, whether his dad and mum would ever be able to find their own car again. It seemed close to impossible.
But, undaunted by the mammoth proportions of the car park, Harry found the nearest available space and manoeuvred the car expertly, at least in Albus’s opinion, into the small area between white lines.
When they got out, all three children looked around in wonder at the expanses of cement that constructed the car park. Last year, Harry had taken James alone in a Muggle taxi, as Albus and Lily had had the dragon pox, but now, as both of them needed to go, it became a family trip. So, for the first time, the youngest two were observing a feat of engineering by their non-magical brethren, for surely such a building could not stay intact without some sort of spell or charm.
“Dad, how did they build this thing? How does it stay up?” Albus asked, wandering after his parents, still staring at the awesome structure. He did so, however, when he should have been minding where he was walking, causing him to slam into the side of another car.
The air was filled with an ear-splitting noise the likes of which Albus had never heard. The headlamps of the car into which he had walked were flashing on and off, and the horn blared intermittently. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head, desperate to block out the unpleasant cacophony, but when he looked at his dad in askance, he found that both of his parents were chuckling.
Harry flicked his wand, and the noise thankfully stopped. Albus could feel his ears ringing from the auditory assault, and he could see that James and Lily fared no better.
“What was that?” James asked in an overly loud voice. “I may never hear right again!”
“That was a car alarm,” Harry explained. “When you touch someone else’s car, it sounds to let the owner know that their car has been disturbed.”
Albus scowled. “But that doesn’t make any sense. How do they know which one is theirs, and how do they hear it if they’re not here?”
Ginny laughed. “Now that is a good question. I wouldn’t mind knowing this one myself.”
But Harry shook his head. “I have no idea. You’ve got me there.” Unperturbed by the still-flashing headlamps on the car in question, he led them toward the lifts on the far wall. Fortunately for the children, they had seen this particular technology during their visits to the Ministry.
At the end of the lift ride, Harry acquired two trolleys for both trunks and birdcages. Each step brought a new sense of wonder to Albus. From the throngs of people, all the way to the impressive ceiling on the station, he could only stare. They nearly always took the Floo for travelling, so this aspect of Muggle culture was fairly unfamiliar to him. It was absolutely fantastic.
After a few minutes of pushing through the crowd, Lily tugged on Ginny’s arm. “Mum, I’ve got to use the loo.”
Their mum rolled her eyes. “Can’t it wait until we get your brothers on the train? And didn’t I tell you to go at home?”
Lily hung her head. “Yeah, but I didn’t have to go then.”
With a sigh, Ginny turned to Harry and said, “I’ll take her, so you keep an eye on this lot.” She cocked her head toward James and Albus before dragging Lily off toward the toilets.
When she left, James leaned over to Albus and whispered, “Not nervous, are you?”
“No,” Albus said defiantly.
James chuckled. “You should be, considering you’ll be in Slytherin and all. Every step closer to the train is one step closer to being evil.” He nonchalantly scanned his fingernails. “If I were you, I’d rather not go.”
Albus punched James in the arm as hard as he could. “Shut it!”
In an instant, both of them found their voices nullified. Harry glared at them. “Now, that’s enough! You will behave like civilised human beings.”
After their censure, both boys stared straight ahead, not even daring to look at the other. When their mum and Lily rejoined them, the family proceeded as Harry chatted with Ginny about the Ministry’s newest regulations regarding security at Quidditch matches. The boys were silent, afraid to annoy their dad further, but Lily took that opportunity to regale them with every minute detail of her trip to the bathroom and all of the awe-inspiring things that she had seen in there.
At last, the troupe reached the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. With a nod of encouragement, Harry indicated that James was to go first. Both Lily and Albus stared as they saw their brother dematerialise into a solid brick surface, about which their parents seemed entirely unperturbed.
Ginny gestured toward the same spot. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
Albus shook his head immediately. “Are you mad? That’s a wall!”
“But it’s a magic wall, Al,” Harry said. “I promise, you’ll be fine.”
Dad would never lie to me, Albus thought. Against every fibre of good judgement he possessed, he closed his eyes and ran toward the portal, all the while wondering how badly it was going to hurt when he crashed into it trolley first. But, to his amazement, he simply kept running when he reached the wall through the bricks and into momentary darkness.
When he emerged, the setting was completely different than the one that he had just left. There was a large sign post that read ‘Platform 9¾’, which told Albus that he was, indeed, where he was supposed to be. James had disappeared, but with the sights to behold, he did not care. The train, instead of the dull, grey colour that the Muggle ones had been, was bright red and emblazoned with the phrase ‘Hogwarts Express’ on the front. It was ruddy magnificent.
He turned when he heard his dad and mum chatting behind him. They had just emerged from the enchanted wall, and Lily was halfway through it; Albus could tell that his younger sibling was not nearly as in awe as he was.
“But I don’t want to wait two years, Daddy! I want to go now.” Lily bestowed their father with her best googly eyes, which never failed to get her what she wanted. Albus could see Harry’s eyes fill with slight panic as he endeavoured to find the words to deny his daughter what she wanted. It was not a customary feeling for him.
Harry stopped and took Lily’s hand in his. “Baby, you can’t go this year. You’re not big enough yet.” He sighed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn, and you’ll do brilliantly.”
With a roll of his eyes, Albus shook his head. Yet again, on his big day, it had still managed to become all about Lily and not him. It just never failed. Even when she was just along for the ride—literally—she instantly became the centre of attention. At least at this point, though, with a brother like James, who had a penchant for trouble, and a sister like Lily, who demanded so much attention and adoration, he was used to this by now. It was hard, being the forgotten one, but he supposed that it came with the territory, being the quiet one and all.
Ginny’s voice broke through his musings. “Ron and Hermione were supposed to meet us here at ten forty.”
“You know Ron,” Harry said with a chuckle. “He most likely demanded to be allowed to drive and got lost.”
For the next five minutes, they searched for Ron and Hermione Weasley, whose eldest, Rose, was also to start at Hogwarts this year with Albus. She was, without a doubt, the closest thing that he had to a friend, and he really wanted to ride on the train with her and not by himself. Merlin knew what James would do to him if he was caught by himself with no means of escape.
*“Where are they?” Albus finally said in exasperation. The only familiar voice he could hear was Uncle Percy, probably one of his least favourite relatives, talking about some boring Ministry thing or another, about which he could not care less.
*“We’ll find them,” Ginny said, her voice dripping with sweetness.
Albus supposed that she was trying to sound reassuring, but to be honest, he felt like she was cooing at him like a baby. It was cute five years ago, but he was closer to being a man than a baby, so it was time for that to stop. “Mum, not in public! I’ll never make friends if everyone thinks I’m a mum’s boy.”
Instead of sympathising with Albus’s plea for masculinity, Harry laughed and mussed his hair. “Relax, Al. You’ll make plenty of friends.”
*“I think that’s them, Al.” Ginny interjected.
Both he and Harry turned their attention to where Ginny was pointing, and, indeed, it was Ron, Hermione, along with Rose and Hugo. The mums hugged and rambled greetings, and the dads shook hands.
“Parked all right, then?” Ron asked Harry. Then they started chatting about driving while they loaded both Albus’s and Rose’s trunks onto the train.
Rose looked at Albus and snatched his hand. “This is it, then.”
All he could do was nod woodenly. “Yeah.” Albus just stared at the train, and what had been miraculous just a moment ago was now an ominous sign of drastic change. His life was about to become completely different, whether he liked it or not, and at that moment, he was not entirely sure that he did like it.
Next to them, Lily and Hugo struck up a lively conversation about, of all things, Hogwarts Houses and the one into which they thought that they would be Sorted eventually. The doubt returned to Albus in full force. He and Rose exchanged similar expressions of apprehension. He could tell that she was as nervous as he was.
Ron’s voice nearly caused Albus to jump out of his skin as he addressed his daughter. “If you’re not in Gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you.” With a slight grin, he added, “No pressure.”
Even when Hermione admonished Ron for what he had said, that did not stop the fresh wave of doom that matriculated into his brain, and it was apparent that Rose felt the same. What if they were not put in Gryffindor? Would they truly be disowned, or was his uncle merely joking?
“Oh, Merlin,” Albus muttered under his breath. He felt Rose’s hand squeeze his in reassurance.
Their attention was diverted once more by Ron pointing out someone across the platform. There was a blond man who seemed overly dressed for the relative warmth of the day along with a stern-faced woman and a boy, whom he assumed was their son, who looked exactly like his father.
*“So that’s little Scorpius,” Ron mumbled.
Albus finally recognised the little family. They had to be the Malfoys. He had heard about them via various accounts from relatives, and from those stories, they were not what one would consider a good lot. They had all been enemies during school, and Mr Malfoy had even been a Death Eater. If that did not make him a bad bloke, then there was not much else on this planet that would. But where did that leave Scorpius? Was he a git like his father, or was he like Albus: quiet, reserved, and completely eclipsed by his family’s fame (or infamy, in his case)?
But Ron was not done sowing the seeds of discord. “Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank Merlin you inherited your mother’s brains.”
As Hermione once again took him to task, Albus leaned toward Rose and asked, “What do you suppose he’s like, that Malfoy?”
Rose shook her head. “No idea. But I’m not going to piss off my dad by getting mixed up with him. He can’t be anything but trouble, if his family is any indication.”
Albus considered this. Rose was probably right, but something inside his head told him that it was not right to judge someone by what his or her parents are like. Of all people, he, Albus, should know better. He could not even count how many of his primary school classmates had assumed that he was smart or talented at anything because his dad was Harry Potter, but, alas, he was not.
He barely noticed James sprinting up to the group of adults, rambling on about Teddy and Victoire snogging (and everyone knew that anyway). He had larger issues, like, say, being in Slytherin and getting disowned! What would he do if that happened? Would he have to live at the school if his family did not want him any more? Would the Headmaster let him do that?
A million questions bombarded his poor little brain, and the sea of voices around him just added to the turmoil. More and more children were saying goodbye to their families and boarding the train, and for the first time all day, Albus really did not want to join them. His mum and dad could not disown him if he was never Sorted, could they?
“It’s nearly eleven. You’d better get on board.”
Harry’s voice filtered through the haze in Albus’s mind. No matter what, he was going to get on this train whether he liked it or not. First, Ginny kissed James on the cheek and Harry hugged him a bit before he darted onto the train to find his best mate, Garrett. Over his shoulder, he made a mock hissing sound to his little brother. This made Albus’s blood run cold.
Ginny hugged Albus tightly. “We’ll see you at Christmas, and I’ll make sure to write at least once a week. We did the same for James last year, though he’d likely swear that it wasn’t necessary.” She kissed his cheek. “Love you, sweetheart.”
Albus attempted a half-smile. “Love you, Mum.”
When Ginny let him go, Albus just stared at the train. Rose was waiting for him, as she had completed her goodbyes already. He just could not bear to take another step toward what could be the ruination of his whole life.
But, just as he was ready to do a runner back to the car, Harry knelt down to ruffle his already hopeless mop of hair and embrace him. Albus clung to his father for dear life. Surely, if he did not want to go, his dad would not force him.
Harry pulled away a bit; already, Albus missed that reassurance. “Bye, son. We’re going to miss you.” He gave Albus a kind smile, the one that made him feel like he could tell his dad anything.
*“What if I’m in Slytherin?” There, he had finally said it. Harry now knew his deepest, darkest fear.
Two identical pairs of green eyes connected at that moment. “Albus,” Harry began, “one of the bravest men I’ve ever known was in Slytherin.”
*“But, just say—“ Albus tried to interject.
*“—then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student.” Harry put his hands on Albus’s shoulders, his face completely serious. “It doesn’t matter to us, Al. You’re our son, and we’ll love you, no matter what. Just remember that.” He stood and gestured toward Rose, who was now pacing in annoyance. “Besides,” he added, “if it matters that much to you, you can choose one over another. *The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account.”
*”Really?”
With a nod, Harry said, *”It did for me.”
The breath that Albus had unknowingly been holding escaped from his chest in an excited rush. He could choose. He could choose! There were no words that could convey just how much that prospect comforted his roiling emotions. No matter what House into which he was actually Sorted, he had the power to make sure that it was not Slytherin. No more snake jokes from James, and no more doubts as to whether his parents would still want him come Christmastime.
As he and Rose were shepherded onto the train and the doors closed behind them, Albus smiled for the first time in hours. Just that morning, his biggest concern was how his mother dressed him, but now, he just had a feeling that everything was going to be all right.
He hoped.