Albus Severus had always been an enigma. First of all, he brought a whole new meaning to the saying that states all is not always what it looks like. When he first started Hogwarts at the tender age of eleven, he was a short boy with a light frame. He looked very much like his father did at the same age, though not as lonely and forlorn. He had a constant companion in his cousin who went by the many layered name of Rose which fitted her well. Why? It was because when one looked at her she seemed like a model schoolgirl: well-dressed, sweet, with a rather nice physical appearance. But when she was angered, the unlucky person felt as though their unsuspecting fingers had been stabbed by a large rose thorn. Needless, to say the two got on very well. Rose was very rarely angry at the sweet, little boy by the name of Albus Severus Potter. In fact, before she had left for Hogwarts, she being the elder and much taller was told to look after him but not overbearingly so.
Albus seemed to be the perfect person to pick on. But, after the sorting, all that started to change. For one, Albus had been sorted in to the house of Ravenclaw. One did not dare to bother the Ravenclaws for two reasons. The first being because every Ravenclaw was a ruddy genius and could probably come up with a complicated plan, execute it perfectly with the best spellwork, and humiliate the culprit in public.
The other being that the Ravenclaws looked out for each other, especially the first years. Even the most unconcerned and laid back Ravenclaw would be angered if one dared to bother the first year. Few, very few people outside of Ravenclaw itself, were skilled enough to evade the Eagles' fury and only 1 out of them could stand up to it.
Albus, having many role models, divided intelligent people into two categories. One category would be that of those who achieved brilliance through much hard work like Aunt Hermione. The other category being those who were born brilliant like his Uncle Bill, he rather admired the second category despite its limitations. The first being there was usually to a certain degree and in a particular field.
He always wished to be in the second category. It seemed cool to have everything in your brain without working for it. He imagined himself, transfiguring things into other things, being admired. Albus always had a secret wish to be more brilliant than his two namesakes. The first being Albus Dumbledore who never had to work in life to get high grades and was renown as the most powerful wizard of the previous century.
The other one, the great Severus Snape was a true heir to power and skill from the Prince bloodline. Albus Severus never wanted to live in the shadow of his father, who defeated the great Dark Lord, Voldemort.
"Ravenclaw champion, garbage. Fool." Albus looked up from the book he was reading. He raised his eyebrows at his best mate. Albus looked up in surprise; the Jane he knew did not talk like that.
Jane was angry but still could not hide the concern she felt for her best friend. She finally dropped the pretense and asked, "What happened to you, Sev? You used to be dedicated, brilliant, and then suddenly you lost all motivation?" The last sentence was uttered a fearful question. "I wanted to be brilliant like my namesakes, and I discovered to my joy that I was brilliant. I rejoiced in this but then it became a burden; too painful to bear. Everything was easy; nothing to work for. Quidditch was too easy; I just fly for fun now. Best chaser since old gramps and seeker that bested the old man himself?"
Jane laughed through her concern; at least her best friend, and the person she owed the most in the whole wide world, besides her dear mother, still retained his sense of humor.
But her laughter quickly faded away; he was an empty shell of his former vibrant self. Unable to stop a tear falling from her eye to see such light reduced to this, she left the dormitory head down. Albus returned to his book; eyes closed in pain. Thank God for the books. Hogwarts was so bloody limiting; his age at fourteen so bloody limiting.
At fourteen, his father was pushed to the extent of his abilities, he at fourteen wasting away because there was no trial for him. How ironic.
Scorpius Malfoy finally closed his book. Studying was finally over. In two days, his exams would come and slowly his tension would be relieved. Then there would total and blissful freedom to do whatever he wished. If he, Rose, and Jane continued like this then they would be graduating from Hogwarts in style and attain a beautifully bright future. Scorpius knew his best mate, Al Potter, wanted out now or at least something that would draw him out of his miserable state of misery. Scorpius longed for the witty, young, bright, and friendly boy his best mate used to be.
Rose Weasley looked at the moving pictures of her and tiny, adorable Alby. The little boy who used to come running excited and flushed as discovered yet another of the evil James Potter's pranks was now no more. These were the last of the pictures of the happy memories of her and Albus Potter who used to be so active but at times used to be weighed down with trouble and anxiety. The rest of the pictures contained at Albus with the shadow of depression that now consumed him. Yet, Albus Severus Potter by nature was an extremely intensive boy. All the deep knowledge he knew now was due to his extremely exhaustive research; he found out every little piece of information to be had and even his physical body represented that. He could keep up the most exhausting run for hours at a time.
Rose knew that behind his teasing words and seemingly uncaring front, James was worried about his brother. And when James, of all people, began to get worried, the matter was extremely serious. Rose did not use words freely: extremely meant extremely.