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As Albus sat on the Hogwarts Express with his cousin Rosie, he reflected on what his father had just told him. In a way, it made him feel better to hear the story of his name again. Albus had heard the story of why he was named Albus Severus for years, but this time it provided him with a sense of small comfort. His name drew attention in his generation as much as his father's name still did in his own (granted, all generations knew who Harry Potter was). Albus Dumbledore was a legacy. His father was a legacy. Everyone knew the story of Harry Potter, and as people pushed their faces up against the glass as they passed Albus's compartment, he couldn't help wondering if they imagined him accomplishing just as grand things at Hogwarts. Could he live up to the name of not only his father, but also the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had? It didn't help that his brother was already a popular and skilled wizard at school. Albus had nightmares all summer leading up to his first year of Hogwarts. His brother, James, teased him mercilessly with Albus's greatest fear: becoming a Slytherin. Albus knew his father didn't care what house Albus ended up in, but his entire family was in Gryffindor and despite the support shown by his parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, he knew that they all secretly hoped he would be a Gryffindor too. And Albus wanted to be a Gryffindor. But if it were true, if his father truly believed that Slytherins could produce good wizards and that Albus had a choice, it made him feel a bit more at ease.
The compartment door slid open and two faces popped in.
"Do you mind if we sit with you guys?" a small, freckled boy said with an Irish accent. His tall friend behind him grinned.
"Sure," Albus said. He had only met Kyle Finnigan and Lane Thomas a few times when all the old D.A. members reunited, but he liked them and it was nice to see a few familiar faces.
Before anyone else could say anything, Rosie asked, "So, have any of you been looking through Standard Book of Spells?" When none of them answered, she pushed on, "Some of the spells seem pretty easy but we'll have to see what we actually get into in class. Of course, my mother says the technique of-"
"Did you guys hear about the Chudley Canons win this Saturday?" Kyle interrupted.
The other two boys grinned at each other and dove into an hour-long conversation about the comeback of the long suffering Chudley Canons and the performance of this year's Quidditch teams, which Rosie reluctantly joined in after a moment of disappointment. All of them secretly had ambitions to be the next great Quidditch player of the Gryffindor team. The conversation halted momentarily when they saw a pale boy with sleek, white blonde hair in the hallway looking into the compartment, but he only sneered at them before walking on with his two, large friends in tow.
As Albus followed Professor McGonagall and the other first years through the Great Hall towards the sorting hat, he could not help but notice all the whispering and pointing. He focused on McGonagall as she led them to the hat. Though the current headmistress of Hogwarts, she still preformed the task of prepping the first years and leading them into the Great Hall for sorting. James said she was harsh and quick to hand out punishments, but his father always said it was because James didn't do his work and misbehaved. His father liked and respected McGonagall and told Albus that as long as he did his work well and behaved she would have no reason to give him a hard time.
As they halted at the steps leading to the sorting hat, Albus realized how bad he was shaking. He looked at the others around him. Kyle looked pale under his many freckles and Lane looked a bit nauseas. Rosie's lips were pressed together in a thin, anxious line. Professor McGonagall went to the front and began calling first year's names.
"Bates, Emily," she called.
Albus barely paid attention to the shaking girl who went up to the hat first, or to the other names called and the houses they were sorted into. He kept trying to figure out how he could choose a house. James told him that the hat somehow reads your mind and personality and before you know it, you're in a house. So how was it that his father chose which house to be in?
"Potter, Albus," McGonagall called. The tables grew quiet, even the teachers' table. He saw Neville and Hagrid shoot him a reassuring smile. Shaking, Albus walked to the stool and McGonagall placed the hat on his head. The only thing Albus could think to do was say, "Not Slytherin" over and over in his head. He thought of Gryffindor, of the lion, scarlet and gold. But it wasn't necessary, because the hat wasn't on his head more than a few seconds before he heard the hat cry, "Gryffindor!"
Beaming, Albus took the hat off and stumbled to join his classmates at the Gryffindor table, which roared with delight at gaining another Potter. He took a seat by Kyle, who clapped him on the back. Even James beamed and yelled down to him, "Close call, eh?"
Albus just smiled, still shaking slightly. Soon Lane and Rosie joined him.
"Welcome to our new students, and welcome back to the old ones," McGonagall began. "Before we begin our meal, I would just like to say, Tuck in!"
McGonagall smiled as she sat, and Albus laughed with his classmates as they began to eat and talk, reveling in the feeling of his new home.