A/N: Sorry for anyone who is waiting for the next installment of my Steter drabble series (yes, I know. Completely different fandom, but maybe you wandered over and are reading this) but it's going to be a while longer. When I was in the middle of writing the next one, which was supposed to be set while Stiles' mom is dying from cancer (cause that's my headcannon still) I found out that my mom had ovarian cancer. She fine, she had surgery and has gone into remission, but it was enough to make it impossible for me to write it, and impossible for me to get back into writing. Hopefully, I will be able to seduce my muse back to me soon, because I do love where I was going with it. But, who knows?
Anyway, this was a short-short I wrote for my short fiction class this last semester. So it's really short. The Next Gen isn't really my preferred setting, but if people like it I may write more. So, let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Al is used to being the second son of the famous Harry Potter, The-Man-Who-Conquered. That doesn't make it any easier to actually be the son of the most famous wizard in the modern world.
A Potter Child
The Great Hall was everything he had imagined it would be, bright and loud, filled with chatter from hundreds of young voices and teeming with excitement that made the floating candles gleam brightly against the artificial night sky above. He swallowed heavily as he peeked between the gaps in the dark, flimsy robes of those clustered before him as he tried to catch a glimpse of his brother, already sitting at the red and gold table, chattering brightly with his friends. James had come to Hogwarts two years before Al, and was promptly Sorted into the House of Lions, just like their parents. The older boy had easily and quickly made friends, unworried about his place or the possibility of two-faced children out for the newest scoop on the Chosen One's family.
Al envied him.
Still, despite the way his stomach was wriggling, twisting onto itself and sending sparks down his arms and legs which fluttered along his limbs and tugged at his skin like those Cornish Pixies his Dad and Uncle Ron had laughed about when they thought he had been asleep after getting into the Firewhisky, Al was still excited. He wanted to know where he would go, where he would spend the next seven years. He wanted to know who he would be sharing a dorm with, classes with. He wanted to know who he would be able to make friends with; he only had family, and though that family was extensive, it still wasn't an actual friend. And he wanted that, that connection with someone his own age, who wanted to spend time with him because they wanted to, not because they had to.
He wanted desperately to know where he belonged.
Yet, Al had doubts and fears heaped upon fears. He knew that, of the children, he was the one that truly chafed under the name of Potter. James took to the spotlight like he was born for it, a little knight destined to protect those under his banner. Lily, too, took to it like a fish to water, the tiny princess who needed no rescue and only missing her crown because Mom had to draw the line somewhere. And then there was Al. Al who shied away from crowds. Al who preferred to skulk in the corners and shadows while his siblings and cousins ran around, screaming like banshees, watching it all with wary eyes and hunched shoulders.
And Al had heard his Dad talk to Aunt Hermione about him before as the child peeked around the door, worried about him, saying that he acted so afraid and timid around people, like a strong wind would fling him away, or perhaps a hard hand. But, then, Aunt Hermione had said the one thing that made Al smile a little more brightly for an entire day after.
"Harry, out of all of the children, Al reminds me the most of you."
He knew that Dad's shoulders had slumped when she said that, something dimming in his eyes and smile straining at the seams, but for Al it had been the best compliment he had ever gotten. He loved his Dad, was so amazingly proud of him. And so, when his name was called and silence struck the Hall, his brother's loud whoop the only noise as everyone waited to see where the second Potter child belonged, Al walked steadily to the front of the room. And when his House was announced, he smiled, steely eyed as he moved to his future.
"Better be Slytherin."