Chapter 1: Hogwarts Again
It was precisely eleven o'clock in the morning on September the first, and the corridor was suddenly quite empty.
Albus Severus Potter looked around him in some consternation, as the floor beneath him gave a shudder and the Hogwarts Express set into sudden motion. The entire morning had been, as the year before, a flurry of bustle and excitement; packing, racing around finding this and that, running through to the platform, hugging his parents goodbye, following his relatives onto the train…
But now said relatives had disappeared. James had raced off as soon as he'd spotted some friends, leaving his little brother behind without a thought. Victoire, now looking down from the lofty position of sixth-year, had huddled up with some of her friends, giggling about how Teddy Lupin had given her a kiss goodbye; her little cousin Rose, a fellow first-year, had followed after, and Al had no desire whatsoever to follow a gaggle of girls to…wherever they were supposed to go.
His new owl gave a disgruntled hoot, and Albus jumped. He noticed that the students in the nearest compartment were staring - whatever Uncle Ron had said, it was definitely not the adults' fault, they were gone now - and tugged at his trunk nervously, deciding he'd better look for a compartment.
It was about ten minutes before a panting Albus found himself at the last compartment, and he peered into it through the window nervously. Most of the other compartments had been completely full, although - oddly enough - almost every time he opened a door someone ended up on the floor with others making it obvious the seat was supposed to be empty. Or, on one occasion, a rather nasty-looking group spread themselves out as far as possible and made it quite clear he wasn't welcome. Al supposed he could have taken any of the seats, but he didn't really want to be stared at his first day…
Luckily enough, however, this particular compartment seemed to be mostly empty. Anxiously clutching his trunk, Al slid the door open.
"Hey—is it all right if I, um, sit in here?"
The two girls that occupied the little room looked up. One was rather thin, with straggling muddy brown hair and rather intimidating oval glasses, and studied him from over a schoolbook. After a moment, she shrugged, said, "All right, then," and returned to her book. The other one just shrugged; she was short and a bit heavyset, with short blond pigtails.
Albus dragged his trunk in and set about trying to put it above the seats. Unfortunately, this was a bit of a problem, as in his time dragging it he'd come to realize it was at least as heavy as he was. Several awkward moments passed in which he failed to shove it upwards, the pigtailed girl watched nervously, and the bookish one didn't seem to notice the rest of the world was still existent.
Then, at last, came there words he was hoping for.
"Here, help me with mine and I'll help you with yours." Grinning with relief, Al turned - to find himself face-to-face with someone that had been quite loudly pointed out by his uncle.
Scorpius Malfoy was standing a spare few feet away, lugging a heavy trunk-and-owl of his own, and now pushed white-blond hair out of his face with an air of haughty irritation. Al opened and closed his mouth, recalling everything Uncle Ron had said that his parents had ever objected to his hearing, then managed to find his voice.
"Oh—uh—sure. We can, uh—you take an end and I'll—"
Scorpius raised an eyebrow and Al shut up; together the two boys managed to get their trunks overhead, and sat down. The pigtailed girl was still staring at them.
"So—um—are you first-years too?" Al asked, a little feebly.
"No." The voice issued from behind the book, and, carefully marking her page, the girl with her hair down set it aside. She crossed her arms, looking at the pair of them intently, then tossed her hair. "I'm a second-year, but the rest are first. You're Albus Potter, correct? And you, the blonde one, are a Malfoy - I've never seen anyone else with hair like that - and you…" She trailed off, looking at the girl next to her. "Not sure who you are, but you must be a first-year, you're too small to be older than me."
"Helen Dursley," the pigtailed girl answered, clearly confused. Al was disconcerted, himself - he hadn't really thought anyone would know his name, his relatives excepted.
"Uh…" he said tentatively. "How do you…"
"You look just like your father," the girl answered simply, as if that answered everything. "Saw you two on the platform. Hmm. Dursley, Dursley…" She turned back to Helen. "It rings a bell. Do you have a father in the Ministry, by chance? Ah…Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes?"
Helen blinked, then shook her head. "My parents aren't wizards. My father makes drills."
"Oh. Hmn. I do know the name from somewhere." The girl shrugged and shook her head, then moved on. "What about you, blondie? What's your name?"
The Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Scorpius," he muttered, a little resentfully. "Scorpius Malfoy."
"Don't like being called 'blondie', do you?" the girl asked with amusement. "Lovely, Scorpius Malfoy, pleased to meet you. My, the little outcast corner's full this year, isn't it?"
"The what?" Despite his dislike of the second-year's pointed words, Al was intrigued.
The girl shrugged and picked up her book. "The outcast corner. Obviously you don't know each other, and obviously you couldn't find someone else to sit with, so you're outcasts. Though why a Potter boy can't find a seat…" She trailed off, reading again.
"So who are you?" Al asked aggressively, frustrated by her superior attitude.
"Nicole Ashford at your service. My friends call me Nikki, or, that is…" a delicate pause, "anyone who would call me by my first name does. Ravenclaw second-year, three-quarters wizard like you," at Al, "but my surname is from my Muggle grandfather, not my pureblood strains. I hope to become a historian someday, have interrupted Professor Binns more than anyone else in the century, and unlike most of the wizarding world consider cats to be quite as good as owls." With that she opened a wicker basket, setting loose a chocolate tabby cat, and returned to her book.
"Leave Maylin alone, please."
"How does she know I'm three-quarters wizard?" Albus asked the air. Scorpius hid a snigger, and Helen grinned at him shyly. With a start Al noticed her eyes were much like his own: a piercing, brilliant green.
"Well, you're the son of Harry Potter, aren't you?" the second-year responded without looking up. "He's a half-blood, and he married a pure-blood."
"How do you know—"
"Also," she went on slyly, "you live in Godric's Hollow, in a house charmed to keep reporters away, have an older brother and a younger sister - give James my thanks, by the way, he was the one who lost Gryffindor all those points last year - and more cousins than I can count, are friends with a half-werewolf, and at home have a pet cat named Linda."
There was a brief silence in which Al became aware he was gaping. After a moment he demanded, "What, do you know more about me than I do?"
The formidable glasses emerged from the top of the book.
"Yes," answered Nikki smugly, "from the look on your face, I expect I do."
The rest of the train ride was more or less uneventful. Following tradition, Albus, Scorpius and Helen pooled their money to get a minor mountain of sweets when the trolley came by (Nikki didn't notice or didn't care), and spent a fairly cheerful afternoon introducing themselves. Al and Scorpius eagerly filled in Helen on all the details and passed-down stories of Hogwarts, though they differed on the point of "best house" (Nikki continued to read), then began eagerly speculating about what would happen when they got there (Nikki gave no advice, and had by this point finished her first book and moved on to a second).
Evening came, and Albus pulled on his wizard's robes. They felt awkward on him; perfectly fitted though they were, and wizard-born though he was, he had always worn Muggle clothing around the house, and to tell the truth this was the first normal occasion he was wearing robes of any sort. As he finished changing, lanterns flickered to life up and down the train; night was falling, and it was almost time to go.
The four disembarked with eagerness; with a vague wave in the opposite direction, Nikki informed the first-years that they "went that way", and drifted off to a series of carriages (which, Al noted with relief, were pulled by something completely and utterly invisible). She hadn't put her book away. Jostled by the crowd, Albus momentarily lost sight of his newfound friends and panicked; he caught sight of his older brother, and called out, but James didn't seem to notice; he saw Victoire again, gently pushing an anxious Rose in the direction Nikki had indicated, and with relief followed his cousins toward the edge of a large lake.
"Rose!" he called, and she looked his way, flashing a nervous smile. He hurried over through the crowd in her direction.
"Listen, d'you have any clue where we—"
"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"
Rose grinned. "Well, there's Hagrid," she answered cheerfully, pointing. "Your dad said we go on the boats, right? Come with me?"
"No more'n four to a boat!" the call went on. "Down the path that way, on the lake!"
Al nodded, and the two clambered into one of the boats, waving at the large man currently propelling a few stragglers in their direction. Albus gave a start as he recognized two.
"Scorpius! Helen!" he shouted. "Over here, we've got room!"
The other two first-years looked to see who was calling, spotted him, and darted through the fragments of the crowd, landing in the boat just as Hagrid climbed into his own and shouted, "Right then, everyone in? Hands, feet an' pets in their boats? Good—FORWARD!"
As the gamekeeper went on to explain that it was a misty night, and that shape up ahead was actually the castle, Albus ducked his head and began to whisper with his friends.
"Scorpius, Helen—my cousin Rose Weasley. Rose, this is Scorpius Malfoy and Helen Dursley—I met them on the train."
Rose was staring openly at Scorpius. He stared right back with something between amusement and irritation.
"You're a Weasley, then?" he said. "My dad was telling me all about you."
Rose blushed and looked away. Al volunteered helpfully, "Uncle Ron - her dad was doing the same."
Helen was watching with undisguised interest, and all three first-years sat a moment awkwardly. But then Scorpius grinned.
"Said your dad wasn't worth much, but his mum's a Weasley and she can kill someone with that Bat-Bogey Hex of hers. And," thoughtfully, "that your mum's all right, for a Mudblood. Means a lot coming from him."
Another brief silence, then Rose smiled too. "Mine said to beat you in every test, and not to get too friendly with you, but Mum thinks it's all right."
Albus snickered, but Scorpius held out a hand and Rose shook it. "What do you say we forget everything they've ever told us?"
"Everything except the secret passage to Hogsmeade."
"Works for me."
Al grinned covertly at Helen, but unfortunately the young witch seemed to be at a complete loss. Leaning over, he whispered, "Scorpius's dad was mine and Rose's dads archenemy, practically, from what everyone says." He sniggered. "Can't wait to see—"
But then, quite suddenly, the boat made a rough grinding noise as it fetched up against dry land. All four first-years jumped, looked up, realized they had missed their first view of Hogwarts, and vowed to pay more attention from then on (a vow which, of course, would be broken at latest by their first History of Magic lesson). They seemed to be directly underneath the castle - looking backwards, they could see a small bit of dark sky through a tunnel - and were clearly supposed to be heading for a door that must be an entrance to Hogwarts itself. Albus swallowed, and in an instant all his misgivings from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters returned.
Fortunately, he didn't have long to contemplate. Hagrid strode up to the door and gave it three solid knocks - Rose gave an inadvertent, anxious squeak and clutched Al's arm, Scorpius shifted and lifted his head uneasily, and Helen flinched - and it opened to reveal another familiar face.
"Very good, Hagrid, I'll take them from here! Welcome, first years—" Rose brightened hopefully as Neville Longbottom's smile flashed in their direction "—follow me, this is the entrance hall, here we go…"
Albus and his fellow forty-some first years crowded into a small chamber off to one side of the entrance hall, allowed only a brief glimpse of the inside of the castle before being hustled aside, and they clustered together, whispering anxiously. Al could hear the other three speculating softly behind him, but his throat was too dry for him to speak and in any case he wasn't too sure he could force the words out around his heart, which seemed to have lodged itself halfway up his throat.
Neville—Professor Longbottom waited for them to file in, followed after, and closed the door firmly behind himself, beaming at them. There was something immensely reassuring about a friendly professor at the moment, accident-prone though Al knew the Herbology teacher was. It was certainly comforting to know the man in front of them had undergone whatever trial they were about to face some twenty-something years ago, on the very same day his father had.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, all of you!" Helen shifted at the name of the school, and Albus glanced to the side to see her face shining with excitement. "Right about now, your fellow students are filing into the Great Hall for the start-of-term banquet…but before you all go out there, there's a few things we need to cover."
The foursome glanced at each other, eager but anxious. Rose was chewing her lip.
"Before you can eat—I'm sure you're all very hungry, the trolley never did seem to have enough, did it?" —a few students tittered nervously— "—you have to be Sorted into houses. While you're here at Hogwarts, your house is your family. You eat and sleep with your house, have a house common room and dormitories; everything you do earns or loses your house points. Keep that in mind, please, rule-breakers-to-be!
"There are four houses at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each one has their own story, their own founder, and their own excellent wizards to claim; I'll leave that bit out, though, as it's mostly covered during the Sorting." Everyone exchanged glances, and Professor Longbottom smiled.
"Now, then. I'm going to go see how long it'll be before you kids can come out and get this over with. I'll be back when it's time to Sort!"
He bustled out, closing the door behind him, and at once Scorpius bolted for it.
"It's locked," a black-haired girl nearby said, disappointed, and with a sigh the Malfoy boy stepped back over to them.
"Worth a try," he shrugged at the others' incredulous looks.
"What did you plan on doing." demanded Rose, "sneaking out of the castle? I thought you wanted to come to Hogwarts!"
Scorpius grinned.
"'Course I want to come. Don't you want to see what the Sorting thing is? Mum and Dad wouldn't tell."
"Not too sure I do, actually," Helen answered squeakily, but Albus grinned and gave his friend the thumbs-up. A group of about half the girls present burst into giggles and rapid discussion of what the Sorting could be, words which were echoed on all sides by the children around them.
"—heard something about fighting a troll, what if—"
"—pull a rabbit out of a hat? I mean, it sounds stupid but—"
"—if we had to read our books already?—"
"AWWW!"
About half the students leapt several feet into the air; Helen actually gave a small scream and ducked behind Scorpius (which didn't work too well, as Scorpius was rather thin and she was definitely not.) A strange man was floating in midair, carrying a number of chalkboard erasers.
"Wee ickle firsties!" cackled the stranger - "poltergeist," Rose whispered nervously - as he lobbed an eraser in a tall boy's direction. The boy cursed and ducked, making to grab the poltergeist, but the little man just floated higher in the air.
"Aww, firstie's got a temper!" he mocked. "So tell me, are the wittle firsties scaaaared? Aww, but of course they're scared—" he cackled and chucked several erasers down into the huddle; Albus ducked aside as he was nearly showered with white dust, "—they don't even know what they're doing here! Did I hear one of you say you had to fight a troll?"
Several students giggled, and he threw another eraser down. Halfheartedly, Scorpius shouted, "Somebody throw something at him!" but the poltergeist simply swerved higher out of reach. It seemed as if all of the first-years would arrive in the Great Hall covered with chalk dust, but then—
"May I borrow your gum, please, Miss Davies?"
Confused, Albus turned to see Professor Longbottom standing next to the dark-haired girl he had noticed earlier. The poltergeist heard, and blew another raspberry, but Professor Longbottom just smiled and pointed his wand at the poltergeist.
"Waddiwasi!"
Doubtless Miss Davies would have swallowed her gum was she still in possession of it, because it had just flown out of her mouth and into the poltergeist's nose.
The little man made an odd snorting noise, cursed, and zoomed out of the room, flashing a rude gesture at Longbottom that made several of the girls titter. Most of the students were staring at their professor with openmouthed awe.
"And that," said Professor Longbottom contentedly, stowing his wand in a pocket, "is what you get if you listen to your teachers when they're not teaching. Learned that little trick from my third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—used it on Peeves ever since. Come on, then, brush off your robes and follow me, Sorting's about to begin!"
The students filed into a line and trooped out; this time Albus made sure to stick with someone he knew for nerves' sake and found himself behind Scorpius and in front of a curly-haired boy he didn't recognize. His heart was threatening to burst out somewhere between his chest and his mouth at any moment.
The students found themselves standing in the Great Hall, easily recognizable as Al's father had described it and just as fabulous. Five tables of students and staff were standing, staring at them; Al found himself reddening and glanced up at the ceiling—or rather, the night sky. Disconcerted, he looked instead at the floor, which was ordinary stone, then gave a little jump as Professor Longbottom appeared in front of them, carrying a stool and a very old, very dirty-looking hat. It was patched and frayed and oddly scorched, and in fact had a few small holes burned into it and patched up again. Thoroughly confused, Albus stared at it.
Then a rip near the brim opened and it—of all things!—began to sing.
In future years Al would never quite remember what it sang (because the current author is not at all good at making poems, songs, or anything else of the sort), but he found himself gaping at the end. Something about the four Houses, and how he was supposed to try it on…
Dad mentioned a Sorting Hat, he remembered suddenly, and with a rush of humiliation recalled their entire conversation at King's Cross. Why couldn't he have remembered it sooner, when the kid behind him was going on about the troll? And as for putting the hat on…
He really didn't feel very much anything at the moment, and hoped this Sorting Hat had taken a leaf out of Nikki Ashford's book and knew more about him than he'd ever thought about.
"Now," said Professor Longbottom cheerfully, now holding a roll of parchment, "come up and put the hat on when I call your name! Abercrombie, Natalie, would you do first honors?"
"Wouldn't pay gold to take her place," whispered Scorpius into Al's ear, who grimaced agreement. The girl gulped, trotted up to the stool, and tugged the hat on over her head. There was a pause.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. The table farthest left burst into applause, and Natalie Abercrombie tossed off the hat as if it was burning to race toward her new house; Albus spotted his brother, cousin and their friends clapping cheerfully. Professor Longbottom called two other names, one into Slytherin and one Hufflepuff, and then—
"Dursley, Helen!"
Helen gulped and looked around frantically. Albus caught her eyes and flashed her the thumbs-up, while Scorpius next to him gave an encouraging grin. Positively terrified, the girl scurried up to the stool and jammed on the hat.
There was a long pause. What little of Helen's face that could be seen was slowly turning red. Scorpius and Albus exchanged confused looks, and Al glanced around to see if Rose or possibly even James knew what was going on.
Then, at long last—
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Another short pause, and the rightmost table clapped. Everyone was looking at one another, and Al spotted Nikki Ashford at the Ravenclaw table, studying the Sorting Hat thoughtfully. Chewing her lip and—to Al's consternation—looking close to tears, Helen dropped the hat on the stool and walked slowly over to her new house.
"Three Galleons she wanted a different house," Scorpius whispered in Al's ear. Something clicked.
"I'd like three Galleons," he whispered back, frowning, "but you're probably right."
John Edgecombe became the first new Ravenclaw. Albus saw Nikki clapping politely, but saw with a grin that she had her book hidden underneath the house table. Several unfamiliar names were called, and then about twenty more. Albus's stomach growled, and a distant corner of him wondered how his body could continue functioning when his mind was blindly panicking and he had no desire to eat anytime soon because he would probably throw it up. Then, finally—
"Malfoy, Scorpius!"
Scorpius swallowed, lifted his head higher, and walked forward with his legs stiff. Albus gave him an encouraging nod, but he couldn't be too sure his new friend had seen it. The Sorting Hat came down; there was the briefest pause, and;
"SLYTHERIN!"
Albus grinned and clapped quietly along with the Slytherin table—whatever his own opinion, Scorpius had been quite clear in his desire to join his father's old house. This hopeful thought buoyed him through a few more names, then a few more saw his spirits dropping, then Slytherin "Peakes, Reynard" had him back into his former agitated state. And then—
"Potter, Albus."
He noticed that the room had suddenly gone rather quiet, and remembered uneasily the stares on the train. James was looking around in some confusion, then shrugged and settled for staring at his little brother as well. Well, it wasn't getting any easier standing here; wiping sweaty palms on his robes, Albus strode forward, sat down, and put the hat over his head.
Suddenly he was looking blindly at dark felt, and heard a tiny voice in his ear.
"Hmm…bit nervous, are we? Not really Hufflepuff material, though…might do well in Slytherin, you know, you're really quite smart and you know how to attach yourself to the right people…"
So it was smart, after all. He heard a tiny note of indignation creep into the voice as it went on.
"I'm smart, after all? Perhaps you would do well in Hufflepuff after all…"
"No!" He yelped the word, and was a little worried the rest of the hall might have heard him. The Sorting Hat fell silent, and he heard amusement in the pause. More quietly, he gave an awkward mutter; "Um…could I be in Gryffindor, maybe?"
The silence stretched on. Then the Hat gave something rather like a sigh.
"Who's put out my secret, now? Everyone tells me exactly what house they want to be in this year, and if I went by exactly their suggestions poor Hufflepuff and Slytherin would be almost empty…hmm…" It seemed to be thinking. "You might do, though. Care about your friends, do you? Noble-minded like your father? All right then, GRYFFINDOR it is!"
Dimly, heart thudding with relief, Albus heard the Gryffindor table burst into applause. Frantically he wrenched the hat off and hurried out toward his new table; James pounded him on the back and he managed to find a seat near his brother. From across the hall he saw Scorpius grin at him and nodded back, wondering a little unhappily if this was the end of a newfound friendship.
"Wondered if you were coming out at all," James told him cheerfully, "took almost as long as that Dursley girl! Look, there's only six more and Rose is last."
Albus didn't really notice. He saw that there were still people sneaking him glances as "Robins, Terry" was called, and a question he'd been wanting to ask from the moment his parents disappeared burst out of him.
"James, how come people keep staring at us?"
His brother threw him a glance and shrugged. "Dunno," he answered casually, "something to do with Dad, I expect. Did the same thing to me last year, but not so much—probably because you look more like him."
"But why?" Al asked desperately. "What on earth did Dad do to make us famous?"
"Dunno," was the response again—James didn't really seem to care. "Never asked, did I? Probably in a textbook somewhere if it makes us big eyesores like this, else you can write him and ask. Look, Rosie's next!"
Albus forced his attention back to the Sorting Hat, which a Black boy had just evacuated and Rose was now approaching. To Al's mild surprise, she didn't look nervous anymore, but walked forward confidently with her head high (and not in the meet-the-executioner-fearlessly way Scorpius did it). Victoire down the table let out a shrill whistle in encouragement, and Rose flashed a grin at their table as she sat down and put the Hat on.
"GRYFFINDOR!" it yelled the second she had it on her head, and with pure joy on her face Rose set the hat down delicately, stalking over to her new table.
"Blimey, never knew Rosie was so—not worried," James said in something like awe. Albus shrugged.
"Dunno if she was really not worried," he answered, nodding in her direction—the bravado had been replaced with shaky relief the second Rose was out of public eye, and she now collapsed between her cousins with a huge gulp of relief.
"Thought it might like me better if I acted brave," she said to James's incredulous stare, and Victoire across from them chuckled.
"That's our cousin!"
Perhaps Helen would have been better off if she'd done it, Al reflected, and the feast began.
A/N: So, there you have it...my first chapter. Not planning to edit, but crit much appreciated. The title may or may not be changed, I haven't decided for sure yet. Thanks for reading...ish long. x3