Warning: SPOILERS! MAJOR DH SPOILERS! Gasps!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me because if they did I would've wrote another book for its Epilogue and continued the series with James, Albus, Lily, Scorpius, Rose, Hugo, Teddy, Victoire, and all the like. But that's just me, and that's why I've started this fan fiction, because they're screaming that they deserve their stories told. Again, all characters (except for those new ones I planted in there) are copyrighted to J.K. Rowling and all her fabulous wealth.
A/N: This is going to be a long fic, so be warned.
Albus Potter –Year One
The younger son of Harry had been fidgeting nervously all throughout the train ride. On about the third try to pry out what was wrong with her cousin, Rose huffed and gave up, plastering her face to the window. It was all this time that Albus was reciting the stories of Hogwarts his older brother had partly made up in his head. He knew that his father had said that most of them weren't true, partly or no, but it was his only grasp at knowledge of his new school. But it wasn't the lore of the Whomping Willow or the invisible threstrals that was clogging up his mind. It was what his older brother had mentioned about the portraits of the headmasters and his father's parting words.
"Albus Severus," Harry said quietly, so that nobody but Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, "you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."
Yes, he was still a little worried about which house he was going to be placed in, but he thought he had time enough to worry about it when the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head. He was wondering about whether or not he'd be able to see the portraits of the headmasters he was named after. What if he didn't like them? What would he ever say to his father? No, he decided, if his father respected them enough to name his son after them, then he would give them proper respect whether or not he thought they deserved it.
"Al?" Rose waved a hand in front of where his distant gaze had ended up. Had he really been staring at her this whole time? He hadn't even noticed! He bit his lip for a bit, letting go of it to respond.
"Yes?"
"Could it be possible that you inherited more from my dad than your own?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.
He frowned, taking that as an insult of some kind. Rose thought her father annoying, but in a loving way. She'd told him countless times that she wished her father was somewhat more like Albus's. "Why?"
"Because you were staring blankly at me, like how Dad stares at Mom before she thwaps him upside the head." She huffed, crossing her arms in front of the violated area.
"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to." He mumbled back lamely. "I was thinking."
"About?" Her ginger brow was raised unbelievingly.
"Who I was named after." He replied truthfully, his gaze now directed to the great outdoors.
"Pfft, what a lame excuse, Al," James's voice rang in his ears. The younger brother quickly turned his head to see his brother with the lackeys he had conjured up. He was sure his brother had conjured them – they didn't seem human at all, more like ogre. Why hadn't they been sorted into Slytherin? They certainly looked the part.
Rose gave James a quick smirk, "Exactly what I was thinking."
James snickered, "Now, Al, you do know she's your cousin, or did you hit your head on the way here?" He'd slipped into their car, plopping down next to his brother while two of his lackeys squeezed in next to Rose.
Albus gave an inward groan, "Why don't you go bug someone else?"
"Believe me, I would much rather do so, but all the other cars are full."
He frowned, decided to change the subject, "What are these lackeys' names again?" That question earned him dirty looks from both.
"They're not lackeys, they're my friends." James gave his brother a nice slap upside the head. "Show some respect to your elders for once."
"Fine, what are your friends' names?"
"Karl Finnegan and George Thomas, Dad knew their dads." He replied proudly, pointing to each one in turn. Now, they weren't as ogre-like as Albus first thought. They looked quite a bit like Seamus and Dean, the former having enough Chang blood in him to make him look like his Asian ancestry, but not enough to take away his father's self-proclaimed good looks. The latter was a mix of his parents, but it was apparent that most of Luna's genes had won out in the end. The boy was blond and had that same serene smile plastered on his face, though it appeared to have more of his father's features. Dean won out on what to name the child. And Al had to admit that they weren't so bad to look at after all.
George nodded politely while Karl simply gave a "humph" and turned to James. "So, what've you been doin' all summer?"
"Making sure this bloke stays out of trouble." He said with a shove to Albus.
Karl laughed, "It's times like these I'm glad to be an only child."
"You have no idea how lucky you are." Rose spoke up, groaning slightly. "Hugo is so annoying."
"Yeah, tell me about it." James smirked to Rose, "Little Al and Lily are always going on about some story Dad told them that probably came out of a story book."
"Am not!" Al yelled to his defense, not liking being called little one bit. "Those stories are true; Father wouldn't lie about stuff like that!"
"Oh, come on, the Chamber of Secrets doesn't exist, everyone knows that!"
"Father said it does!" The younger brother replied quickly, turning back to face the window. He was no longer fidgeting, but fuming. He decided to drown out their conversation and concentrated on the sound of the tracks below them.
It surprised him how fast that train ride seemed. Father had always told him that Hogwarts was far away from any other human settlement, even Hogsmeade, so Albus had expected more of a train ride than that. He wasn't complaining, though, as this meant that James and he would finally go their separate ways. Al, now fully dressed in wizarding robes, followed his cousin out to hear a bellowing Hagrid call out for the first years. His father had told him plenty of stories about Hagrid, so Albus had no trouble following the friendly half-giant to where the boats lay. The boy also had no gripe when Hagrid didn't recognize him, because after all they had never met, he had his mother's face, and his hair was way too long, down to his midback, to be any resemblance to Harry, even if it was his father's color. He was glad his father had let him grow his hair out, as Al treasured this abnormality from the other students. Just as his father had his scar, he hoped he'd be able to leave a mark with his hair.
He felt relieved to be placed in the same boat as Rose, as he wanted to keep something familiar near him in case he burst from excitement. This was what he dreamed of – being part of Hogwarts, the school his father had attended and as he had explained to him many times, his first home. It may not be his first home, but Albus was determined to make it a second one as soon as possible.
The boat ride had finished all too quickly as well and the first years continued their journey towards the Grand Hall – and the Sorting Hat. Albus had accidentally bumped into Scorpius, who shot him a not-so-friendly look because of it.
"Sorry," Al muttered and continued along, snaking his way around other kids to separate himself from the Malfoy. They stopped their ascent of the staircase when they reached the Professor who greeted them at the top. From the looks of things, Minerva McGonagall was still alive and well for how old she was. Frail looking in her old age, but demanding respect at the same time, she fit the strict Christian granny character well. She had no hunch in her back though – she seemed too dignified to even be able to stoop to such normal unhealth, even when she was expected to die soon simply because of how long she had lived.
Albus looked upon her with awe. This was the head of Gryffindor House. This was the woman he would look up to for years to come. He would honestly much rather have a grandmother like this instead of that absurd annoyance his mother called mum. Not that he didn't love his Grandma, she just got very old very quickly. The young Potter shook his head, he shouldn't think like that. Grandma wasn't so bad…
"First years," called out the old woman, "in a moment you will pass through these doors and wait to be sorted. After you have the pleasure of learning which house you will be in the full seven years you have at Hogwarts, you will sit down with the rest of your house and wait patiently until the last first year is sorted. Professor Lovegood will speak, and afterwards there will be a feast. Now, if you will come this way. It is time." She turned and opened the giant double doors, walking swiftly through the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables with the eleven-year-olds falling behind her. Reaching the podium, she took a scroll from Xenophilius. Albus spotted Neville sitting at the table behind where Minerva and the headmaster stood next to Hagrid, and waved with a smile. Professor Longbottom waved back with a similiar smile.
"Albus Potter," McGonagall called, the scroll now held open. Stillness echoed throughout the room. Though most people were pretty certain that a Potter would be in Gryffindor, as both James had been, but there was always that area of doubt. The said child felt a chill go down his spine. Him first? He thought he'd have time to figure out how to convince the Sorting Hat not to put him in Slytherin first. A deep breath. Everyone was counting on him being in Gryffindor. He could feel their expectations on his shoulders as he walked getting heavier and heavier each passing second. As he took his seat on the stool and felt the Sorting Hat placed upon his head, he felt like he wasn't able to breath.
Which made him think, why did he have to be in Gryffindor? What was so bad about Slytherin?
"'Why do you have to be in Gryffindor? What's so bad about Slytherin?' you ask," the Sorting Hat mused, which made Albus wish the thought never accured to him, "Now, now, do not be ashamed of your thoughts, boy, for they are the thoughts of the second child of the Boy Who Lived. They hold much more relevance in this world than another's would. Now, let's see… I'm sure your father would like you to be in Gryffindor, no doubt, but this is not about your father, now, is it?"
With that, his thoughts flared again. He had been worrying about being in Slytherin before, but now he really wondered what it was like. Surely not all Slytherins were evil, as what his father said about his name. The bravest man he knew… Al felt a soft smile pass his lips.
"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat had bellowed, just as Albus had asked.