Albus Severus Potter walked into the Great Hall with the air of a typical First Year: mystified, excited, and nervous. No amount of encouragement could have soothed him now. They were lined up in alphabetical order and marching toward the stage in silent panic. The older students would smile down on them or snicker at their misfortune. Albus had never been one for attention.
"Abbott, Garner," the tall Headmistress called out, holding a list in one hand and a ratty hat in the other.
A pudgy burnette sat on the stool and grimaced when the hat was placed on his head. Much to their surprise, a seam on the hat split into a mouth as it called out, "Hufflepuff!" Professor McGonagall raised the Sorting Hat and the child rushed to his table to avoid further embarassment. The process continued endlessly, with no one of interest until a peculiar girl was called.
"Lacewick, Kitty."
A girl with long ebony ringlets swayed to her destiny. Her slight frame spoke of elegance, her golden eyes of mischeif. One look and he knew she was trouble. Kitty seated herself on the polished stool and waited patiently for the hat to decide. She wasn't waiting long. The second it dropped on her curls, it cried out, "Slytherin!" Surprise, surprise. After her, the list went by rather quickly. He was horribly anxious.
"Potter, Albus."
It seemed like the whole lyceum was silent with anticipation as the hat was placed atop his head. Imagine his surprise when the hat's cynical voice invaded his mind. "Another Potter? Tell me, boy, are you a magnet for tradegy as your father or an independant bookworm as your mother? Hehe, as if I don't already know. You've the cunning of a snake and the loyalty of a lion. The best of both worlds! But where to put you...Oh, I know."
"Slytherin!" The serpant table cheered. They had a Potter. Though halfblood, he was wealthy and famous. And a freaking Potter! But Albus was dreading his education now. Funny how a single word was all it took to complete change his paradigm of this place. Grudgingly, he approached his new house and sat next to Kitty. She paid him no mind, chatting animatedly with her new followers. He didn't know the first thing about this vixen, but he felt like he knew her. Maybe she was famous or something.
The blonde on his right gave him a knowing look. "Don't bother with her," he advised "She's too good for wealthy men like us." It was a funny thing to hear from an eleven-year-old. Kitty must have thought so too because she began laughing, which caused the girls surrounding her too giggle too.
"I wouldn't call you a man, Scorpius," she said through her chuckles "More like a pig-headed baby." Her followers howled at her jab, though it wasn't all that clever. A bit of annoyance weaseled its way onto her slender face.
"You wound me," the boy replied, clutching a hand to his heart for dramatic effect. So they weren't as unfeeling as the young Potter originally thought, they still seemed a bit stuck up.
"Get used to it," she said with a snort and bit into an apple. Then her eyes moved to Albus, who quickly looked away from her. "What about you, Potter? Are you a man?"
He sensed an innuendo in this and chose his answer carefully. "I guess that depends on your definition." He began picking at the fruit on his plate. Even without his mother here to scold him, he intended to maintain a healthy diet.
"Well put," she returned, throwing her apple at a redhead across from her. "So what's your story? Crazy and determined like your father or generous and opinionated like your mother?"
"Depends on how you look at it."
"Are you ever going to give me a straight answer?"
"You tell me."
She laughed rather loudly. "You, Master Potter, are a riot!"
And so began the odd and entirely necessary friendship that would make their years at Hogwarts so magical.