Author's Note: Although only Albus and OC are listed, many of the same "Rowling Original" characters are big and very important parts, it's just that I can only list two. This is my first fic, mostly written for my own enjoyment, so I hope you all enjoy it, too! These first few chapters are more for introduction, so just stick with it and I promise the good stuff will come! Except for very few original characters, everything is owned by J.K. Rowling.
Rose and Albus sat side by side on the Hogwarts Express. The car was one of the closest to the back, thus one of the only cars not packed with older students. Albus sat next to the window, staring blankly at the thick, passing steam and the green, rolling hills. He would have been enjoying the quiet if it weren't for Rose's constant chatter. She went on and on about class schedules and housing and the history of the school, but after eleven years Albus was mostly able to block her out, and was able to immerse himself in his own quiet thought.
"...but Mum spoke real fondly of Transfiguration, though. I hope the new teacher is at least half as good as she said McGonagall was."
"Yeah..." mumbled Albus, as he did every few of Rose's pauses.
Albus felt Rose lean in on him a bit, "Are you listening to me at all?" she exclaimed in her usual tone of annoyance, something Uncle Ron had once said she got from her mother.
"Yes!" He turned toward her abruptly, "Although, to be honest, I can't say I care that much about how the school was founded."
Rose turned up her nose slightly and sniffed, "Well I think it's interesting." Rose had inherited nearly all of her traits from her mother, save only for her freckle-covered face and her height among other things, she was several inches taller than Albus and was even almost as tall as James.
Even from inside the closed car, Rose and Albus could hear the excitement going on in other cars, which made Rose even more nervous, as she was known amongst the family to have trouble making friends. Albus, on the other hand, was enjoying the moments of solitude away from everyone besides Rose. Besides from her fairly prickly attitude and occasional smart remarks, Albus and Rose got along well, they felt more like siblings than cousins.
For a few moments Rose had stopped talking and occupied herself with a book entitled Hogwarts:A History, an older looking book that Aunt Hermione had given her as a going away present just moments before their departure. A stout old woman knocked and opened the door of the car.
"Sorry to interrupt. Anything from the Trolley, m'dears?" She asked, smiling warmly.
"Oh no, thank you, we're-" started Rose, but she was interrupted by Albus.
"Ohh, hmm. Could I have two chocolate frogs, a pack of Drooble's, and two Pumpkin Pasties?" He jumped up to the cart, practically salivating over the astonishing array of sweets. "Boy, I'm starving!"
He paid and thanked the candy lady and sat back down with his treats, ripping open a chocolate frog.
"Why waste your money on that when your mum made you a perfectly good lunch?" Rose asked, sounding annoyed again.
"It's just some sweets," he replied, sucking on the chocolate frog. He picked up the card inside and felt his stomach lurch. Staring up at him from the card was a smiling, seventeen-year-old version of his father. His nerves, that had finally begun to calm, began to go haywire again. He tucked the card into his pocket, intending to dispose of it later. Besides, he probably had about ten of the same one in his collection at home already. "Besides," he started again, attempting to shake off the anxiety, "didn't you know I would share?" He picked up a Pumpkin Pastie and handed it to Rose. For a moment she glared at him, then swiped it from his hand. He knew she wouldn't be able to resist her favorite treat (that was another thing she had inherited from her father; his sweet tooth). For a while they continued to sit in silence, chewing, both too anxious to talk.
"Hey, Rose?" said Albus out of the blue.
"Mmm?" Rose turned to him, devouring the last of her pastry.
"What if-", he paused, thinking of how to explain his thought, "What if you don't get into Gryffindor?"
She thought for a moment. "Well, what could I do? I couldn't request a change, now could I?"
"Well, I mean more, like, if you think your parents would get upset? Or, be disappointed?"
"Hmmm... I don't know for sure. I don't think my mum cares either way, and I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't come as a shock to my dad, but disappointed? I don't think so."
"Oh. That's good." He sat back again, beginning to peer out the window once more.
Rose leaned in on him again. "You don't think yours would be, do you?" she asked, as if it was a ridiculous proposition in itself.
"Not mum, but dad? He said he wouldn't be but, you know, he's just such a Gryffindor."
Rose did not often take to comforting people, but nevertheless she put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "Al, no matter what he's still you're dad, and he would still love you, and none of us would ever think any differently of you." She removed her hand and Albus smiled thankfully at her. "Besides," she continued, in a much lighter, more humorous way, "you're Harry Potter's son, of course you will be in Gryffindor."
The moment that Rose and Albus walked into the Great Hall felt like a childhood fantasy coming to life before their eyes. They began to witness everything their parents had told them about and that they had been dreaming about since childhood; the floating candles, the bewitched ceiling, the great tables lined with multitudes of students anxious for the sorting to be over so that they could begin the feast fit for a king. It was even bigger than they imagined, even grander and even more beautiful. Albus couldn't decide what to focus on first, while Rose couldn't decide what to explain to Albus first.
"See the ceiling, Al? Isn't it lovely? It's bewitched, you know, what a grand idea. And the flags, do you see them? With a house on them? Every year there is a House Cup, the house with the most points wins. And over there-" she went on like this for a while, and, as usual, Albus was blocking her out, however unintentionally.
The walk to the front of the room seemed to take forever, and just as they were nearing it, Albus and Rose heard voices.
"Rose, Al! Hey first-years!" Rose and Albus turned to see James, Fred, Roxanne, Molly, Lucy, and Dominique waving at them from them Gryffindor table, along with Alice Wimbildt, a friend of Roxanne's whom they had recognized from the New Year's party last year, and a boy with messy black hair sitting next to James who neither Rose nor Albus recognized. Rose and Al waved back. Rose seemed excited and even a little comforted to see them waving at them, but seeing James at the Gryffindor table, along with the rest of his family thus far, Albus became unbearably nervous. He became jittery and shaky as they reached the platform. He started to sweat, and then he saw it; the chair that looked like a small throne, with an ancient, tattered looking brown hat in the seat. He had a sudden urge to turn around, get back on the train, and ride back home. He turned to Rose, who looked unaffected completely by anxiety for once in her life; she was too in awe of her surroundings, but for a moment she looked at Albus, and her expression wiped from her face.
"Al? Are you okay? You look sick!" But before he could say anything back, Professor Gondar, a young, plain woman with dark, straight brown hair and a small pointed nose who, as she had explained just moments ago, was the Potions Mistress, stood before the chair at the platform to explain the sorting process.
"When I call your name, you will come up to sit on the chair, and the Sorting Hat will place you into one of the four houses. We will go alphabetically." she began chanting names, the first being a boy named Braun Aarby, who was sorted into Hufflepuff. Name after name was called off the list, each one going from anxious to relieved in a matter of seconds. It seemed like it was going on for eternity. "Leanne Pottan?" was called up. Albus was shocked that when Gondar called her name, Rose grabbed and squeezed his hand. He looked at her and she looked up at him, looking terrified. "You're next, I bet.," she mouthed to him, "I don't want you to go." she mouthed again, and squeezed his hand harder.
"Slytherin!" shouted the Sorting Hat on the top of Leanne's head. She sneered and ran off to the Slytherin table. Albus knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help feeling like it must have been a sign. Rose squeezed harder, Albus felt her nails digging into his skin.
"Albus Potter?
His heart skipped a beat, and he heard Rose's breath stop short, but she did not yet release his hand. Albus looked at her expectantly, and she whispered to him, "Good luck, cous'." she looked close to tears, but she unwillingly let his hand go. For a second he just looked at her face, then he turned and went to be sorted.
He pushed through the sea of first-years, who he knew were looking at him as he approached. He stepped up on the platform slowly, and the eyes of the students felt like burns on the back of his head. He knew that everybody knew his name, knew his family's names, and knew that for generations, both sides of his family had been solidly Gryffindor. He sat down on the chair and immediately wanted to sink into the ground and never be seen again; everyone was staring at him. Everyone. It was as if their eyelids had stopped working, no one even blinked, but the stares that stung worst were the ones from his family. There was James and Fred and their friends, all smiling and looking excited, and there was Rose, who looked scared for her life without her cousin, and her best friend, by her side.
The hat was put on his head, and a fire ran through his blood, and in his veins, and gathered at his heart. There it sat, a hot pool of anxiety just waiting for that one word.
"Ha!" The hat exclaimed loudly and made Albus twitch, "How much Weasley blood does there need to be before you slow down? Ah, but you're also a Potter, another one, I see. But you, you're something, aren't you." His words made Albus's stomach flop. Something? What did he mean by something? "I've had Weasleys' and I've had Potters', but you're different, you're something." Albus scanned the room. He was humiliated, and everyone else seemed shocked, but no one more than James, judging by the look on his face. He remembered what his father said, that the Sorting Hat takes your wish into account, and he was going to ask to be in Gryffindor, but he couldn't. Something stopped him. He didn't ask for anything. He just froze, petrified in body and mind. "You are different. You are different. Difficult decision. But I can only think of one place where you can thrive to your full potential, and you will thrive here." Albus squeezed his eyes and stopped breathing. "Ravenclaw!"
His jaw went numb. He couldn't feel his legs. He opened his eyes and looked at the Ravenclaw table, there was shouting, people standing on benches. "We've got a Potter? We've got a Potter!" some yelled. Then he shifted his eyes to the Gryffindor table. They were fairly still, some clapping, but unenthusiastically. He looked at his family. They all looked shocked beyond words. His heart sank when he saw James tilt his head to the floor and turn toward Roxanne. He looked out to Rose, who still looked terrified, but sympathetic, and to Albus's surprise she did not even looked shocked.
Before anyone could scold him he walked down off the platform and walked dizzily to the Ravenclaw table. Many people shifted to make room, in hopes that they would opt to sit next to them. He looked down the line of students until he saw two familiar blonde heads and bright faces: those of Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, the twin sons of friends of the family, whom Albus had forgotten were going to be first-years this year. With his head tilted to the ground, he walked briskly to where they sat.
"Er, hello Lorcan, Lysander."
"Albus!" they both said in a most dreamy-sounding unison.
"Would-would you mind me sitting with you?"
"Not at all, Albus! In fact, we'd be honored!" replied Lysander brightly. Albus noticed that Lysander was just a bit shorter than Lorcan, with a slightly rounder face and slightly greener eyes. The only way he would be able to tell them apart, he thought to himself.
He sat down next to Lorcan, closer to the platform. His neck stiffened when he thought about turning his head toward the Gryffindor table, he was too terrified, so he was left to merely imagine the looks on the faces of his family. He imagined Dominique turning up her pretty little nose at the Ravenclaw table, ashamed of being Albus the Outcast's cousin. He imagined Molly and Lucy trying hard to contain themselves with dignity, the way their father had taught them to, but finding it difficult. He imagined Fred and Roxanne making jokes about him to try and cheer everyone up, but most of all he imagined James with an angry, ashamed look. Ashamed that his direct family could have any little drop of non-Gryffindor blood. They were the sons of Harry Potter, for goodness sake. Harry Potter, practically the face of Gryffindor house second only to Godric Gryffindor himself and the great Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore, after whom he was named. If anyone was expected to be in Gryffindor, it was he.
Professor Gondar continued to spout off names. He felt horrible for Rose, he knew how she got under pressure and how vulnerable she was alone. He knew that she so hoped to be in Gryffindor, and he hoped that his placement into Ravenclaw didn't upset her or put her off too much. About twenty-five minutes later, there were only about twenty students left to be sorted, including Rose.
"Rose Weasley?" Gondar called. Albus saw Rose step up from the front of the platform, she was shaking just as badly or maybe even worse than he had been. She sat on the chair and the hat went onto her head. She locked her legs so still that it looked painful, and her jaw was visibly shaking. For the first time in his life Albus felt an overwhelming urge to hug her. He had never noticed until now how vulnerable she was without her family around her. Their whole lives, he realized, they had been together. He was her first friend and her best friend for so long. At least twice a week they would visit each other and play together as their parents conversed or cooked a feast or made plans for work. It only occurred to him now how alone she must have felt.
"Fascinating. I haven't seen a mind like yours since-why since your mother's!" exclaimed the hat. Rose shook violently, "Yes, I remember now. Yes, yes. Gryffindor!" shouted the Sorting Hat. Rose stopped shaking, finally. She smiled and the color came back to her face and she ran jubilantly to the Gryffindor table.
Albus clapped for her. He couldn't decide whether to be sad or happy. He was happy that she would be with her family all around her, to watch out for her and be with her until she got comfortable with the other people, but unbearably sad that he would be alone, without Rose, without any of his family, after all those years.
He turned and glanced yearningly at the Gryffindor table. Rose sat down next to Dominique, who hugged her and said something to her, while from a across the table James made miniature fireworks erupt from his wand and disappear into his still empty glass.