The Hogwarts Express chugged along the track, the students inside all excited to be going back to school and the first years inside nervous about the Sorting. One student in particular, Albus Severus Potter, was almost literally shaking at the thought of being stuck in Slytherin, separated from his brother, James. His father's consolation before he had boarded the train had done a little to soothe his nerves, but not much. It had been years since Harry had been at Hogwarts, and the Sorting Process might have changed by now. No, it wouldn't make much sense, but fear was irrational. It didn't listen to logic; it just made you all shaky and nervous. That was its purpose.

Albus was also fairly nervous that he wouldn't be a good student, that he would freeze up in the face of performing a magical task, or that he would be just plain dull. His name alone carried expectations: Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards the world had ever seen; Severus Snape, one of the smartest potion-makers and noted double agent; and last but definitely not least, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Big expectations much? Yeah, he thought so.

There was nobody else in the carriage with him. Would Albus have no friends at Hogwarts, would he be forced to look to the teachers for protection? Questions like these nagged at his brain, at least they did until his brother came barging in with a couple other second-years. Then he was just annoyed, with an undercurrent of nervousness.

"Hey, little brother," James said, ruffling Albus's black, untidy hair.

"Cut it out!" Al slapped his older brother's hand away, glaring at him with his jade green eyes.

James was about to retort with something probably inappropriate, but a brown-haired boy came scooting into the carriage, carrying his luggage and a large tawny owl. "Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full." Without even waiting for an answer, the boy sat down. "Thanks," he said, nodding towards the bewildered Albus and the now-frowning James. "My name's Andrew. Andrew Brown. What's yours?" His dark blue eyes focused on Albus's, demanding an answer.

"A-Albus," he stuttered. "Albus Potter."

Andrew's mouth fell open. "Harry Potter's son?!" He was astonished. "Then that means you must be his brother," exclaimed, turning to James.

"Yeah… I'll just be going." And with that, James and his friends slipped out of the compartment, going to find somewhere else on the train with less excitable people, leaving Albus shifting uncomfortably under the disconcerting stare of Andrew.

"Erm… Yeah. My dad's Harry Potter. I kinda look like him, if you hadn't noticed…" He trailed off, not quite knowing where to go next. He was saved by the trolley lady, who had just opened their compartment door.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked, turning to them with a kind face.

Albus bought some chocolate frogs and some Every-Flavor beans, since he collected the cards. Andrew bought a bunch of Pumpkin Pasties and a few Cauldron Cakes, as the two had agreed to share their purchases when they made their decisions.

The first box of Chocolate Frogs that Albus broke open had a card in it, one that he amazingly didn't have. It was Albus Dumbledore, the man who had died twenty years ago at the hand of another of his namesakes. His father had told him all about the reasons for the killing, how Dumbledore had previously ordered Snape to kill him when the time came. Albus stared morosely at the picture for a minute, and then turned it over when the man left the frame. He read the text on the back, having suddenly lost his appetite.

Albus tapped his new hemlock and unicorn hair wand, and was startled when red and gold sparks came flying out the end. He hadn't expected that. The train was beginning to slow. "We should change into our robes," Albus told Andrew, pulling them out of his trunk. The other boy nodded, and they proceeded with the task.

Albus caught himself staring enviously at the boy's large owl, wishing his own were larger. His was a smallish snowy, named Hedwig after his father's. Harry had regaled them with tales of his younger years, stirring their hearts and imaginations, making the boys almost wish that they had been him, and Lily, their younger sister, glad that she hadn't been her father. She was sensible like that, although she did do things out of the ordinary sometimes.

Albus's thoughts were interrupted when the train squealed to a stop, and a voice came over the intercom, saying, "Please leave your belongings on the train. They will be taken separately to the school." We're here, Albus thought, and nervously made his way out the door of the compartment.