A/N: Bear with me here, it takes every opening story a few chapters to get off the ground. Too many introductions, I suppose. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and leave me some comments.
Diclaimer: Whatever it is that usually goes here. Obviously the Harry Potter series and all its characters belong to JK Rowling. Anything you recognize, I don't own.
Chapter 1: The New Generation
As the train left the station and Albus found a compartment with Rose, well away from his brother, he thought about his father's words. If it was true that you could choose which house you wanted to be in, then what was the point of the sorting? And wouldn't anyone with his head in the right place choose Gryffindor?
Rose noticed her cousin brooding. "What is it," she asked, in a soft tone that she had learned from her mother.
Albus hesitated a moment, deciding how much to tell her.
"What house do you want to be sorted into?"
Rose frowned slightly at the question. "Well, Gryffindor, I suppose."
Albus didn't find this answer thoroughly appeasing, but before he could reply, Rose continued.
"I mean, my father of course keeps insisting that I ought to be in Gryffindor, but my mom says that all of the houses are advantageous in their own way."
"Even Slytherin?" Albus's eyebrows had risen slightly.
"Slytherins have wit and cunning so they can influence others. Slytherin has produced some truly great wizards, and not all of them were evil."
"But," Albus said with a frown, "Even the defining properties of the house are villainous. Muggle-borns can't get in, and only very rarely do half-bloods get in, those that are simply pure Slytherin qualities. Wait…" He looked at his cousin. "You don't even have to worry about possibly ending up in Slytherin, do you? You're not a pure-blood."
"Well," said Rose, "that depends on how you define the term 'pure-blood'. My mother is a witch, but she's a Muggle-born. Both of my parents are magical, so I could be considered a pure-blood. If you think about it, there are probably very few wizards that don't have a single Muggle ancestor. There aren't that many wizard families, relatively. The term 'pure-blood' simply gets tossed around a lot by Slytherins. But I believe I could be in Slytherin. And I could do just as well there as Scorpius Malfoy."
"Could you now?"
The words hadn't come from Albus. He and Rose both turned. Standing at the entrance to their compartment was none other than Scorpius Malfoy.
His blonde hair was slicked back smoothly, and his black robes were spotless. Even though the sorting had yet to take place, Scorpius was already wearing a green and silver tie, obviously his father's old one.
"You're Ron and Hermione Weasley's daughter, aren't you?" Scorpius said, gazing at Rose intently, with a slight smirk on his face. "You think you could do better in Slytherin than me? Think you could even be in Slytherin, since your mother was a…?" But he didn't say the word. He broke his gaze away from Rose and looked down briefly, before turning to Albus. "So you're the son of the famous Harry Potter." Scorpius held out his hand. "How do you do?"
Albus hesitated a moment, then shook hands with him. Scorpius then turned back to Rose and held out his hand to her, but she declined, eying the hand warily.
"Making friends with the Weasleys, Malfoy?" A black boy with a slanted face now stood at the entrance to the compartment. He wore spotless robes featuring a Slytherin badge, and looked to be about a third or fourth-year. His expression towards Scorpius combined a glare and a smirk.
Scorpius met his eye, matching the look perfectly. "Not exactly, Zabini. Hello Nott, Montague," he added, glancing at the large boys on either side of Zabini.
Zabini turned his glare towards Albus. "You're Harry Potter's kid."
Albus glared back at him, wondering for how long he would merely be known as 'Harry Potter's kid.'
Zabini held his gaze on Albus for a moment, then gave a little nod and turned back to Scorpius. "If you want to be in Slytherin, Malfoy, you had better watch who you go and make friends with."
"I think you had, too, Zabini." Another black boy had entered the scene. Albus recognized him as Shane Thomas, the son of his parents' friend Dean. He was a third-year in Gryffindor.
James appeared beside Shane, and behind them came Daryl Finnigan and Dom Petrino, a Muggle-born.
"Hello, Potter," Zabini said with a snort. "Back again to see if you can break your father's record for most detentions, hmm?"
Albus felt anger rise within him, but James smirked. "You know it, Zabini."
Zabini was left speechless after his bluff was called. He merely gave a curt nod and spared Scorpius a quick glare, then turned around and left, Nott and Montague following in his wake.
James glanced at his brother, than at Scorpius. It took only an instant for James to note the blond hair and green tie and put two and two together. "You're a Malfoy."
Malfoy nodded, holding his head high and trying to appear brave while faced with the Gryffindor third-years.
"I think you better leave too," James said, his voice level.
Scorpius hesitated, then made to leave, but Albus said, "Wait." Everyone looked at him. He looked from his brother to Scorpius. "Do you want to sit here?"
The third-years and Rose all gaped at him. Scorpius looked slightly bewildered as he watched Albus's face for any sign of trickery. After a moment he said in a quiet voice, "Okay." He took the seat next to Albus.
Albus could feel Rose glaring at him, but he didn't look at her. The third-years gaped for a moment longer, than looked at each other. James gave a slight shrug and left, and the others followed. The door to their compartment closed, leaving the three of them in silence.
Minutes passed while Rose turned her glare back and forth between the boys. Albus kept his gaze fixed out the window, though he wasn't paying attention to what he saw through it. Scorpius stared determinedly straight in front of him to a point somewhere off to Rose's left.
Then the compartment door opened again. "Something off the trolley dears?" All three quickly dug their hands into their pockets for coins.
The presence of sweets eased the tension a little, and Albus and Rose started comparing chocolate frog cards, although a slight edge remained in Rose's voice. Scorpius watched them silently.
A Ravenclaw prefect came by and reminded them to don their robes as they would be arriving soon. Rose and Scorpius were already wearing theirs, but Albus quickly pulled his on over his Muggle clothes. Scorpius looked at Rose's robes, surprised to see that they looked new. He could have sworn his grandfather had mentioned that the Weasleys couldn't afford anything new. Scorpius shrugged this off as Rose noticed him watching her. She looked away from him as he turned back to his chocolate frogs.
Soon they felt the train slowing down. Albus felt the excitement that had been building within him reach a new peak.
They heard Hagrid calling as they exited the train, and moved quickly over to him.
In the middle of the crowd moving towards the boats they were shoved together with another boy. No one got a good look at him until they had seated themselves in a boat.
He had brown hair and green eyes, the same green eyes as Albus. Unlike most of the other 1st years, he wasn't gazing fixedly up at the massive castle silhouetted against the night sky.
"I'm Alexander Regine Zarin," he said. Albus, Rose and Scorpius all introduced themselves.
Rose was looking back and forth between the boy and Albus. Albus felt uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze, but there was no denying it, Alexander had the same eyes as him.
Alexander noticed Rose's looks, and he turned to Albus. There was a long moment as green eyes met green eyes.
Then Alexander said, "I inherited my eyes from my mother, who got them from her mother before her. My mother was a Muggle. I'm half-blood."
Albus was about to respond, but then something else occurred to him. "Isn't Zarin the name of the potions teacher at Hogwarts?" He could have sworn he had heard James complaining about "Professor Zarin," whom he apparently hated.
Alexander nodded smugly. "He's my uncle. He's Head of Slytherin also. I know I'm going to get into Slytherin, even though it usually only takes pure-bloods. My father can trace our lineage back to Salazar Slytherin himself."
Albus knew this last part wasn't true. His father had killed Slytherin's last living descendent, the Dark Lord Voldemort. He exchanged glances with Rose and Scorpius, but none of them opted to say anything. The boy seemed very proud of having made this claim.
They reached the cave beneath the castle, and Hagrid led them up the steps to the entrance hall. Silence had fallen over the first-years.
In the entrance hall they were met by Professor Ferius Flitwick, who had inherited the position of Charms Teacher from his father, Filius. Headmistress McGonagall had given her consent to the move.
Flitwick was just as small as his father had been, and just as jumpy. He glanced around at the first-years. He then explained the sorting process for anyone who didn't already know it. Albus felt renewed anxiety rise within him amidst all the excitement. He couldn't be in Slytherin. The hat couldn't put him there.
After a few minutes Flitwick led them into the Great Hall, and Albus's attention was immediately taken away from the imminent sorting, if for only a moment. The Hall was truly spectacular. The first-years looked around in amazement as Flitwick brought the ancient and severely burned Sorting Hat onto its stool.
Voldemort had set fire to the hat years ago during the battle at Hogwarts, but it had miraculously survived the flames. The hat featured powerful ancient magic, and no simple fire could destroy it. It didn't look good, but it was still perfectly fine as the Sorting Hat.
The hat launched into its latest song:
New Wizards and Witches
Standing there humbly
I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
I'm more than what you see.
You'll sit here and put me on
And you will hear me say,
"Now let's see, what have we here?
Where shall I place you today?"
Worry not about reputes
For the four houses here,
For none is better, none is worse;
Reputations spawn from fear.
You may yet be in Slytherin
But no, you are not bad.
You'll learn wisdom from power
So sit there and be glad.
Or you may be in Gryffindor
Where your bravery will shine
But no you mustn't feel the need
To match Gryffindor's alumni.
Or if your passion's learning
Ravenclaw may be for you.
Through intellect and wisdom
You'll excel at what you do.
Or if you value honesty
Like those just Hufflepuffs,
Among them you will make true friends
Who won't seek to get rough.
But do not dwell overly
On the house where you will dwell,
Make good friends with one and all
Other creatures as well.
For if there is one thing we learned
From the chaos two decades ago
It's that unity among us all
Will smooth history's flow.
There was applause for the hat's song, and then Flitwick began calling off the list of names. "Anderson, Sean." A tall boy stepped up and pulled on the hat, and it shouted "RAVENCLAW!" The sorting had begun.
Albus watched anxiously as the first-years went up one by one. He glanced sideways at Rose, who was watching with a matching nervous expression. On his other side, Scorpius didn't look quite as anxious. He was fiddling with his green tie, assuring himself he would be in Slytherin.
"Dennison, Emmeline." "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Dursley, Harry."
All thoughts were driven from his mind as Albus suddenly stood upright and stared at Flitwick. Rose was staring too, and behind Flitwick, Headmistress McGonagall was frowning. Albus immediately scanned the first-years around him, but no one was walking up to the hat.
"Dursley, Harry," Flitwick repeated, looking at the first-years. He then turned to the Headmistress, who stood up.
"Harry Dursley," she called, her voice clear and stern. Whispers began to break out in the Great Hall as everyone watched the first-years. No one moved. Albus was positively reeling. There was no way it could be the same Dursley family. Not the one his father had grown up with, Muggles who had hated the idea of magic. Yet the name was not overly common, and the child was named Harry. It seemed too much to be a coincidence. And the fact that the Headmistress was now looking at him confirmed it.
But Harry Dursley apparently was not here, and after a moment McGonagall told Flitwick to continue. "Everett, Robert."
Soon it was Scorpius's turn. Holding his head high, he marched forward to the stool. It took all of two seconds for the hat to place him in Slytherin.
Albus's turn was fast approaching. It came all too quickly, and he moved forward, his eyes fixed on the hat. He sat on the stool and the hat was placed on his head.
"Hmm," said the voice of the sorting hat, "another Potter. Truly unforgettable, those Potters, always the most difficult to sort." After another moment the hat said. "You are certainly no exception, Mr. Albus. Of course, like your father and brother before you, you don't want to be in Slytherin." This was, of course, quite clear to the hat, as Albus was repeating it over and over again in his mind. "Don't know what you Potters have against the house. It's just a house, after all, same as any of the other three. It doesn't matter who's been in it. All that matters is the qualities of your personality. I don't place people in Slytherin because they are inherently evil. You could be great in Slytherin, same as the rest of your family. But if not, then I suppose I better also put you in GRYFFINDOR."
Albus removed the hat from his head and moved quickly over to the Gryffindor table. He was not overly pleased, knowing he would have been placed in Slytherin if he hadn't thought against it. But his father had done the same thing, and Albus allowed himself to relax with this thought.
Soon only two first-years were left. Rose and Alexander stood quietly as Rachel Vicsen took a seat at the Slytherin table.
"Weasley, Rose." Flitwick called.
Rose walked quickly to the stool, a million thoughts rushing through her mind. The sorting hat was placed on her head and she heard its voice.
"A Weasley, yet again. There must be more Weasleys now then any other magical family. Even the Potters now have Weasley blood. But you, you're no ordinary Weasley, are you? I remember a girl like you, from the same year as Harry Potter. Granger, Hermione Granger." There was a pause. "Your mother. Interesting. She had both bravery and intelligence in abundance. She could have done just as well in Ravenclaw as she did in Gryffindor. You could too." Another pause. "I placed your mother in Gryffindor because she had an urge to do more than just learn as much as she could. She wanted to be great, to make a difference, a quality I don't often see so strongly in Muggle-borns. Just how much like her are you?" Another moment passed, and to Rose it felt like forever, but then the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"
"Zarin, Alexander." Alexander came up and was placed into Slytherin even faster than Scorpius had been. Albus saw him look at a man at the teacher's table, who nodded curtly at him. This must have been Alexander's uncle, the Potions Master.
He was a pale man with black hair and a grim face. His eyes were jet black. His hands were white and his fingers seemed abnormally long and pointy, as did his ears. Albus thought he looked slightly elfish. Albus looked back at Alexander, who, come to think of it, looked slightly elfish too.
Scorpius had decided back at the boats that he ought to keep an eye on him. Anyone who claimed to be a descendent of Salazar Slytherin was most likely bad news. Scorpius watched Alexander come and sit across the table from him, next to Zabini. He cast the latter a little sideways glance, as though his very presence annoyed and disgusted him. Scorpius noted how Alexander's pale complexion contrasted greatly against the black boy. And obviously Alexander noticed this too.
McGonagall stood up and addressed the hall. "Welcome to another year here at Hogwarts. It is a great pleasure to see all the familiar faces, and to meet all the new ones. First-Years please take note that the forest on the edge of the grounds is strictly off-limits. Also Mr. Filch, our Hogwarts groundskeeper, has a list of ground rules and forbidden objects, most of which are common sense. Beyond that, I would just like to say welcome and enjoy the feast."
She sat down, and heaps of food appeared on the golden platters. Scorpius instantly began tucking into the food, as did Alexander.
"So this is a Hogwarts feast, eh?" Alexander said, grabbing a bottle of pumpkin juice and looking at it. "I'll tell you what we need," he said, grabbing the goblets of everyone around him, Scorpius, Vicsen, another first-year named Vera Sinley, and Zabini, filling them with pumpkin juice, and returning them. "A toast," he said, raising his own goblet. "To Slytherin house. May it dominate all the others henceforth."
"Here, here," the others said enthusiastically, Scorpius chiming in half-heartedly. They all drank.
Across the room, Albus was busily scraping the food off his plate. Across from him sat Rose, eating somewhat more slowly. James came up behind her and leaned over towards Albus.
"Welcome to Gryffindor little bro," James said, holding his hand out for a high five. Albus gave him one as Rose spun around in her seat. James looked down at her. "You too, cuz." He got a high five from her too.
Another familiar face appeared beside James. Victoire Weasley was a silver-haired beauty, just like her mother. She beamed at them. Albus and Rose waved at her.
"Normally the fifth-year prefects would lead you to the common room," Victoire said, "But I told them I would take care of you all instead. They figured that as Head Girl I will do a better job than they would anyway. When you finish eating come find me."
The feast was nearing its conclusion. Albus had just decided he could eat no more when an extremely familiar voice called out "Professor McGonagall."
Albus swung around towards the entrance to the hall. There stood his father, with a blonde boy who looked to be around Albus's age, though somewhat larger around the waist.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall responded, standing up. "Well this is a pleasant surprise. Welcome back to Hogwarts."
Albus saw that most of the teachers had also stood. Flitwick, Hagrid, and Neville had stood up immediately. Professor Zarin had remained seated.
There were excited whispers rising among the students, some of the students nearest Harry Potter at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables leaned as close to him as they could, their hands held out for him to shake. Harry gently complied with many of them.
"Er, sorry for the interruption, Professor, but it seems one of the first-years missed the train."
McGonagall's gaze shifted to the boy, although just about everyone else kept their eyes fixed on the one and only Harry Potter. "Harry Dursley, I presume?" The boy nodded meekly. "Why weren't you on the train with the other students?"
At this Harry Potter frowned slightly and walked up to McGonagall at the teacher's table, bringing the boy with him. "He didn't know how to get onto the platform, Professor," he said in a quiet voice.
"I see," said McGonagall. "Didn't your cousin remember seeing you come onto it twenty years ago?"
He shook his head. "He was never with me when I got onto it," he said with a slight frown.
McGonagall sighed and looked at Harry Dursley. "I see. Well, we'll have to get you sorted. The feast is over anyway." She addressed the hall. "Fifth-year prefects, please lead the first-years up to the common rooms. Everyone else please retire as well." She turned to Harry Dursley. "Please follow me to my office. You may come too, Mr. Potter."
Albus felt his father's eyes on him as he followed closely behind Victoire out of the hall. This had been strange to say the least. He had not expected to see either of his parents again until Christmas, and he felt slightly embarrassed to see his father show up so soon, even if the reason had nothing to do with him.
Victoire led them up the marble staircase, and through a series of corridors. The paintings followed their movements.
They entered a large chamber full of moving staircases, the Grand Staircase. Victoire led them up one that was stationary, for the moment. Once they reached the seventh floor there was a portrait of a rather large lady in a pink dress.
"Bonjeur, Madame," Victoire said with a charming French accent. "Fleur de Lis." The fat lady smiled at her and the portrait swung forward, revealing a hole in the wall through which they all climbed through. "The lady has chosen a French theme this year," Victoire explained. "My mother would be so proud."
Albus wondered if this didn't have something to do with the fact that this was Victoire's last year. James had once teased Victoire that she got along best with the paintings.
"Boys' dormitories are through that door on the left, girls' through the door on the right. As first-years you will have your dorms at the top of the staircases within. And boys," she added with a small giggle, "Don't try to get up the girl's stairs, you will find it…rather difficult. Goodnight." And she left back through the portrait hole, still giggling to herself.
Albus turned to Rose, who for some reason was smirking. He merely shrugged and looked around the common room. There was a picture at home of his father with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione sitting in the common room during their second year at Hogwarts. The room still looked pretty much like it had in the picture. The décor, for the most part, was scarlet. The walls were scarlet, along with the rug on the floor. The ceiling was a pale golden color, and the curtains around the windows were golden. There were comfortable red armchairs and a couch in front of the fireplace on one side of the circular room. On the other side were chairs and tables for homework and studying.
Rose had gone over to one of the windows, and Albus followed her. He looked out across the grounds. In the distance he could see Hagrid's hut, with smoke rising from the chimney. Just behind the hut was the dark outline of the Forbidden Forest. Between the hut and the castle Albus could see the tree that James had identified as the Whomping Willow, and off to the side he could see the edge of the lake, but not the part where Dumbledore's marble tomb was.
"I'm going up to see what the dormitories look like," Rose announced, "then perhaps I'll go to bed. See you in the morning."
Albus bid her goodnight, then turned towards the boys' dorms. He climbed up the staircase and reached the first-year dorm. Inside were five beds, although Albus remembered that only three boys besides himself had been sorted into Gryffindor. He couldn't remember their names. He believed one of them was named Robert something-or-other.
He found his trunks at the foot of one of the beds, but decided to move them over to the vacant bed, which was closest to the window.
He looked out of the window, and this time had a full view of the lake. Dumbledore's white tomb seemed to glint in the night. Beyond it the water was black. Albus thought he saw a ripple mar the smooth surface. Was there really a giant squid in the lake? And merpeople too?
"Albus?" Albus swung around and faced his father, who stood in the entrance to the dorm.
"Hi, dad," Albus said, somewhat uneasily. He looked around his father to see if anyone was coming up behind him.
"I just came up to see if you were settling in alright," Harry said. "My business here is for my cousin and his son. It was a bit of a shock when they turned up at the station just after we'd seen you off. I hadn't seen Dudley since…" His voice trailed off. Albus already knew what hadn't been said anyway, and certainly didn't mind it not being repeated. "Anyway," Harry continued, "turns out his son has got some magic in him. Makes me wonder if there was some in my mother's family after all, not just in her. Anyway they went to King's Cross but couldn't find platform 9 ¾. So I had to bring little Harry Dursley here myself. Had to take him to Diagon Alley first though, since he hadn't managed to get any of his school stuff."
Albus could imagine his father leading the boy through Diagon Alley, trying to explain to him everything that Albus had been brought up learning.
"Professor McGonagall offered me rooming for the night. I must say, I couldn't resist," Harry said. Albus stared at his father. "Don't worry," Harry added, raising his hands in supplication, "I won't be anywhere near Gryffindor Tower. There's guest housing down by the entrance hall. After breakfast tomorrow you'll be on your own till Christmas."
Albus instantly regretted his look, though of course his father understood his urge to be independent from his family while at school. But before he could say anything, the other three first-year Gryffindor boys came into the room. They stared at Harry, their eyes huge.
"You're Harry Potter," one of them said.
"Yes I am," replied Harry mildly.
The boy turned to Albus. "And you're his son."
Albus nodded. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen.
The boy stuck out his hand eagerly. "I'm Robert Everett." Albus shook his hand, and the other two came over to introduce themselves. They were Frank Truit and Jonathan Redford.
Robert turned back to Harry. "Mr. Potter, sir, if you don't mind, could you tell us how you defeated Voldemort. I mean of course we've all heard the story, but it would be absolutely brilliant to hear it from you yourself."
Harry glanced at his son uneasily, then looked at Robert. "I'm sorry, but I can't right now," he said, to Albus's immense relief, "I must be going." But just as he was turning to leave, Neville showed up.
"Harry!" he shouted.
"Hello, Neville. How are you?" Harry said, trying to turn Neville around and lead him out of the room.
"Fine, and you?"
"Fine as well."
Harry had almost succeeded in exiting the room with his friend, but just then Robert said, "Professor Longbottom?"
Neville turned. "Yes?"
"You were there when he defeated Voldemort. Perhaps you can give us a first hand account."
"Okay," Neville said. Albus's heart sank. "Do you want to stick around Harry?"
"No, sorry Neville, I can't. I'll be downstairs in the guest chambers if you want to come by later." And with an apologetic glance at his son, Harry turned and descended the stairs.
So Albus was forced to sit through Neville's recounting of the epic showdown between "the Great Harry Potter" and the Dark Lord Voldemort. He kept his gaze turned well away from Neville, trying not to pay attention as the other three followed the story raptly. He was beginning this year so deep in his father's shadow he doubted he could be anything more than "Harry Potter's son." Maybe he would have been better off in Slytherin after all.
Despite the comfort of the bed, Albus didn't sleep too well that first night. This year had certainly started off on the wrong foot. He hoped his classes got off to a good start tomorrow.
But just as he was preparing to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Professor McGonagall's voice sounded throughout the castle, magically amplified.
"All teachers please report to the Slytherin Common Room. All students please remain in your common rooms."