This is currently the only other one-shot idea I have for Harry Potter. Once I get some other things out of the way (for other fandoms) I'll start working on this huge-ass HP project I have in mind called "Lily's Eyes".
I don't own Harry Potter. Do I look like JK Rowling to you? Look at my profile. My location's the United States, for God's sakes.
Anyway, this is how I think people in the Harry Potter universe would react to the name of their youngest son. It also represents my personal opinion of it (which is basically "WTF?").
So, I hope you enjoy "Albus Severus Potter"! Review, please, and if you haven't, check out "The Fourth Unforgivable Curse".
Professor Minerva McGonagall normally read through the list of names she was to call days before the actual Sorting. It was her job – a very important one – and she took it seriously; how terrible it would be to mispronounce a name by mistake! The old families, the purebloods, she never worried about mispronouncing – their names fell as easily from her tongue as her own. It was the Muggle-borns and the half-bloods that she always worried about.
She read each name on the list for the first time this year as she called them out for the entire Great Hall to hear, hoping that she didn't mispronounce any. This year, she knew there was a name on that list that she didn't want to see.
Her voice cracked as she called out the name, each word sliding from her tongue gracefully. The three parts of his name were as familiar to her as her own face in the mirror, yet when put together like that, they sounded strange and foreign.
"Potter, Albus Severus!"
The entire room fell silent.
Even those in the very back of the Great Hall could hear the boy's footsteps and the swishing of his robes as he walked up to the stool. Professor McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head as he sat.
As she – like everyone else – held her breath and waited for the hat's decision, she looked out at her House's table and saw the boy's older brother, James Sirius Potter, sitting with his eyes clenched shut and his fingers crossed tightly. Whether he was hoping his brother was in the same House or not, she didn't know. She wondered…
Then the brim of the hat ripped out and called out in a deafening voice, "Gryffindor!"
Her House's table burst into cheers as the boy, blushing bright red, scampered down to sit among his House-mates. Never in her many years at Hogwarts had she heard a House cheer louder than they did now – not even thirty-six years ago today, when Harry James Potter, the Boy who Lived, had finally been Sorted. The Professor smiled slightly, the corners of her mouth barely twitching, at the enthusiastic response, also glad that the boy had been placed under her care.
Albus took his place at James's right hand, and his brother put him into an affectionate brotherly headlock.
She glanced at the other three tables, to see their reactions to his placement. The Hufflepuffs seemed politely disinterested. The Ravenclaws looked disappointed and the Slytherins looked beyond pissed – the boy had also been named after someone from their Houses, after all. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had been Sorted into Ravenclaw, whereas Severus Snape had been a Slytherin.
She was so overwhelmed by the emotions running high that she almost forgot to call the next name. After the longest pause between names in Sorting history, she cleared her throat and called out the next name – but no one could hear it over the overjoyed screams of the Gryffindors. Finally, sighing, she turned to face the line of first years and motioned the next girl forward.
And the rest of the Sorting was conducted through sign language.
- -
Albus. Severus. Potter.
What could they have been thinking?
That was what McGonagall wondered as she paced up and down in her office like a pissed-off, highly-strung cat. What could they have been thinking when they named him that?
No doubt they meant to honor those who had died during that dark time. That had been clear when their first child, James Sirius Potter, had been born. But James had been Harry's father, and Sirius had been Harry's godfather, not to mention his father-figure after James' death.
Their youngest child, their daughter Lily, had been named after Harry's mother.
Albus Severus?
She could understand Albus. Dumbledore had also been a father-figure to Harry. He was loved by everyone who knew him – except for his few enemies. But Albus was better suited as a middle name. Everyone who ever met the boy would immediately think of Dumbledore.
And his older brother was named James. Why, if you had given your first child a normal name, would you give your second one a name like Albus?
And Severus! Of course, Severus Snape wasn't as well known as Dumbledore, but those who had gone to Hogwarts would know the name. And that particular choice was what really confused Professor McGonagall. Harry Potter and his entire band had never liked Snape – they had loathed him. As a matter of fact, she couldn't think of anyone who had ever liked Snape… except Dumbledore and Lily Evans – Lily Potter.
If they were going to honor the dead, shouldn't they honor someone that they liked? Like Remus – Remus Lupin! Had they forgotten him? No one had named their child after him!
Remus Albus Potter… Albus Remus Potter… either of those choices would have been better than Albus Severus Potter!
- -
Despite having grown much older, McGonagall was still one of the best and sharpest teachers at Hogwarts. She was also the only Headmistress in the history of the school to also have a class.
Of course, being busy with her Headmistress duties, she only taught two classes. She taught remedial Transfiguration – classes for older students who (still) had trouble with Transfiguring. And she taught basic Transfiguration to first years.
On the first day of classes, she got a closer look at Harry Potter's youngest son. Though normally she was so stoic, her eyes brimmed with tears. His eyes were a bright blue – a blue so unique she had only ever seen it in one place.
Dumbledore's eyes.
After letting the class free to attempt turning a teacup into a mouse, she watched only him. She saw Harry in the way he moved, the way he held his wand, how easily he doubted and became frustrated with himself. And Harry had been so much like James – so she saw him there, too, when she looked at the boy.
His hair was dark, naturally greasy, like Severus Snape's had been. And obviously, the Weasleys were there – freckles lightly speckled both his cheeks.
Half an hour later, with five minutes left in the class, the eleven-year-olds decided that their teacher wasn't paying them any attention and began to talk amongst themselves. She continued to watch the Potter boy. He had the same smile Dumbledore had had, but when disinterested in a topic, he could also scowl the way Snape usually did.
They had cursed him. No one would ever see this boy as unique. He was not one boy; he was three dead men and a living one.
No one would ever see Albus Severus Potter standing in front of them, but rather, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and Harry and James Potter all rolled into one.
- Kuramastrass -