Albus remembered his father's words from earlier in the day. His father, the famous Harry Potter and a legendary Gryffindor, a man who had pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the sorting hat, had promised him that it was okay to be in Slytherin. Albus's father had even said that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. Harry Potter in Slytherin! The thought that you were able to talk to the hat, to have a hand in your fate, had comforted Albus as he sat on the train on the way here. Now however, as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his too-large robes, his nerves rioted and butterflies the size of dragons were leaping off the walls of his stomach. His father's promise that being placed in a House other than Gryffindor would not mean the end of life as he knew it was no longer comforting.
The awe of the boat ride into Hogwarts was forgotten as the names started being called and the first years started being sorted. The wonder at the floating candles, the feeling of insignificance and the sense of being a part of something older than time that Hogwarts castle had inspired disappeared like mist in the wind. The knowledge that members of his family had died here suddenly dawned on him and Albus swallowed loudly. Both of Teddy Lupin's parents, his uncle Fred and more had found their end within these halls… suddenly, he wasn't so excited to be attending school anymore.
"Potter, Albus,"
His knees nearly gave way beneath him. After standing stupidly for a good quarter of a minute, Albus finally remembered what he was supposed to do. He wobbled over to the front of the room and sat down on the wooden stool that waited there. The hat was placed over his head. It was too big and it slipped down to cover his eyes. Albus squeezed them shut and wished that he was anywhere but here.
Ah, a Potter, said a voice in his head.
Albus just about jumped out of his skin. A pathetic little whimper escaped his lips and he hoped that no one had been near enough to hear it.
Timid as a wood mouse! Laughed the hat, but a fine mind inside that head of yours. Now, where to put you?
Gryffindor, begged Albus silently.
Ravenclaw perhaps, to nurture that keen mind?
He jerked his head in a negative.
You're certain? Ravenclaw could help you on the way to success.
Please, not Ravenclaw, Albus thought back at it.
The hat seemed to consider that.
In which case, there is only one place left for me to put you, young Potter.
"Slytherin!" it barked aloud.
The hat was removed from Albus's head and he was ushered away. For a moment, he forgot how to move, wasn't sure how to breathe. He felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He tried to remind himself of his father's words, the promise that Slytherin was a fine House to belong to. Severus Snape, Albus's namesake, had been the head of Slytherin and he had been a great man. The words sounded hollow, even to him. Albus tried to forget that most people had not liked Severus Snape.
He felt the entire hall's eyes on him, could feel their shock like a tangible force. He knew what they were thinking; how can a Potter be in Slytherin? Albus would have liked to know the answer to that question himself. What have I done? He thought. He felt like a traitor, a turncoat. Glumly, he shuffled down the rows of people and over to the Slytherin table. Only at Hogwarts for less than an hour and already he had disgraced himself, let his family down. The name Albus Severus Potter suddenly seemed immense, too large and important for a stupid, cowardly boy such as himself. Could he ever live up to his father's legacy?