"We are all equal in the fact that we are all different. We are all the same in the fact that we will never be the same. We are united by the reality that all colours and all cultures are distinct & individual. We are harmonious in the reality that we are all held to this earth by the same gravity. We don't share blood, but we share the air that keeps us alive. I will not blind myself and say that my black brother is not different from me. I will not blind myself and say that my brown sister is not different from me. But my black brother is he as much as I am me. But my brown sister is she as much as I am me."
― C. JoyBell C.

Al grabbed the rear-facing seat by the window. His dad was offering an encouraging smile, his mum was rolling her eyes with a secret grin, and Lily was straining against her father's arms, waving enthusiastically and crying just a little bit. Al smiled in return, waving back to Lily with strange relief. As much as he and Lily were friends … well, sometimes it was just nice to not have to put up with your little sister. After an entire year of putting up with her without James to help, Al was ready to have a bit more space.

Of course, James had already disappeared. All James wanted to talk about over the summer was his new friends from Hogwarts, who of course were all in Gryffindor and much better than anyone else he knew, so he surely had to go and find them right away. He barely even talked to Fred and Louis all summer, despite the fact that they were cousins and best friends before Hogwarts ever started, because they were in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Al didn't think that was right – after all, they were still family.

But then again … if he was Sorted into Slytherin, would James ever talk to him? If he didn't even talk to Fred or Louis, who were still in acceptable Houses, what would he then have to say about Al being Sorted into the only completely unacceptable House? Did it matter? Dad said that it didn't. He said that he would be proud no matter what, and Al did remember him talking about Severus Snape, one of his namesakes. Severus Snape, the Head of Slytherin. Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts for one year. Severus Snape, who loved his grandmother, was a super top-secret spy for the good guys, and gave his life for the cause. When they were little, James and Al used to play war sometimes when Mum and Dad didn't see. James always wanted to be Dad, and always tried to make Al be Voldemort. Al always wanted to be Snape. Sometimes he made James be Voldemort, and Al would be Snape, sneaking around and trying to find clues to help the good guys, and then walking right up to Voldemort and lying to his face. Of course, James would always ruin the story by then pretending to read his mind and find out that he was lying and kill him. Al always told him that didn't happen that way, but James wouldn't believe it unless Dad said it, and all Dad ever said was that he was killed by Voldemort personally trying to save the students at Hogwarts. Dad didn't like for them to play war.

"Hey, Al."

Al looked up and saw Rose sidling into his compartment, her eyes a bit red around the rims. He expected she'd been crying in the toilets. He greeted her with a silent nod and returned to looking out the window, where the tall buildings of London were already fading into the distance. He could still only just see the gleam of sunlight hitting The Shard. Dad insisted on teaching them Muggle Studies at home, and one day they had a field trip with Aunt Hermione into Muggle London. Al's favorite part was the tall buildings, and The Shard was his favorite. It was unlike anything in the wizarding world – so tall and shiny and strange looking. He wondered how tall Hogwarts was – was it as tall as The Shard? Surely not. Nothing was as tall as that.

"What do you think the Sorting will be like?" Rose asked after a long period of companionable silence, drawing Al out of his thoughts once again. "Mum and Dad wouldn't say."

Al shrugged. "I dunno. Dad told me …" he hesitated, but figured that Rose was at least one person he could trust with this, "Dad told me that the Sorting Hat will let you have a say sometimes."

"Do you think that's true?" Rose asked with a bit of skepticism and worry in her voice.

Al scowled, unhappy to have shared it with her now. "Dad doesn't lie to me."

"I wasn't saying that …" Rose said quietly, looking hurt. "I just … I don't think I really want to choose. I'm afraid I'd pick the wrong one. Because I think that I want to be in Gryffindor … but my mum was almost in Ravenclaw, and she said that would have been nice as well. It would be a challenge, I think. And Louis is in Hufflepuff, which sounds really friendly."

"But what if it wanted to put you in Slytherin?" Al challenged.

Rose furrowed her freckled brow thoughtfully, looking out the window. After a while, she finally said, "I think it would be okay. I don't – I don't want to be in Slytherin. I think Daddy wouldn't like it. But, if the Sorting Hat thought that I would be happier there … well, it says in Hogwarts, A History, that the Hat has all of the brains of the Founders in it. So if Slytherin thinks that I belong in his House, then I think … I think that I would be okay with that. I think."

Al and Rose were silent for a while after that, both of them thinking about what would happen if they were Sorted into Slytherin. Their musings were interrupted only by the occasional shout or giggle in the corridor, until suddenly the door banged open and –

"Hey! Al! Rose! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

It was, naturally, Frederick Gideon Weasley II, the eldest and only son of George Weasley, owner of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes and uncle to both Al and Rose. Fred was easily the most exuberant, the most mischievous, and likely the most intelligent of the Weasley cousins. Everyone thought he'd be in Gryffindor because they always said that he took after his namesake, their dead uncle who had started the joke shop with Uncle George. But Fred, with his caramel-colored skin, dark eyes, curly brown hair that stuck up all over, and penchant for doing things "just to see what happened," defied all expectations in a typically Fred way by taking to Ravenclaw with more ease and flair than could be expected. The family reckoned that Uncle George was still a bit disappointed about it, but then again … Uncle George never did really get over Uncle Fred's death.

Fred threw himself onto the bench next to Al with a bright grin and a laugh, while his friend and partner-in-crime, Max Morrison, a stocky boy with long brown hair, trailed in behind him. (James told Al that Fred and Max had bonded over their names, because Max's full name was Maximillian Michael Morrison III, which was even worse than being a Frederick Gideon Weasley II.)

"So, getting antsy about the Sorting yet?" Fred inquired with a cheerful smile. Al and Rose sent him equally baleful glares. Al could admit one thing about Rose – her glares were second to none. She learned them from Aunt Hermione very early on, and had been able to glare anyone into submission for years. (Except, of course, Aunt Hermione.)

Fred faltered under the glare and gave Rose an encouraging smile. "Look, it'll be fine! Don't fuss so much – it'll be over in no time! Want to see a trick I learned?"

Al and Rose both perked up. Fred always had the best tricks!

"I was trying to combine these two spells, the Bubble Charm and the Colour-Changing Charm, just to see what happened, and look!"

With a flick, swish, and sharp jab of his wand, bubbles began to fill the compartment, changing colour every few seconds from lurid green to tangerine to butter yellow and through all the colours of the rainbow. Al and Rose watched in awe, grinning at the spectacle. Soon, however, the bubbles began to gather on the ceiling of the compartment, none of them popping the way normal bubbles would.

"Finite," said Fred commandingly.

Bubbles continued to push themselves enthusiastically out of Fred's wand.

"Finite!"

The bubbles began to appear even faster than before. Fred exchanged a wicked grin with Max, who flicked his hair out of his eyes ever-so casually.

"Shall we?"

"Let's!"

"See you later, kiddos!" Fred called carelessly, racing out the door with Max and beginning a mad dash down the corridor. Al scooted to the end of the bench and peered out the door (along with a number of other students in neighboring compartments) to watch Fred and Max frolic away trailing colour-changing bubbles in their wake. Shaking his head, Al retreated into their compartment once again, sharing a smile with Rose. Rose, ever the sensible one, opened the window and began to usher the bubbles out into the countryside they were passing through. Al briefly amused himself with imagining the faces of Muggle children finding those bubbles in their garden.

Rose sighed with a good-natured half-smile. "Merlin, Fred's going to get us into trouble before classes even start, isn't he?"

Albus laughed, and tossed her one of the chocolate frog cards his mum had tucked into his pocket with a wink before he left. As much as he and Rose had argued and annoyed each other over the years, they were still cousins and friends. He was glad to know that, no matter what, he had at least one ally to rely on.

Scorpius Malfoy sat glumly in the compartment he shared with his cousins and their friends. All of his cousins were older than he was, and all of them were Greengrasses. He never fit in with them, no matter how hard he had tried. The Greengrasses were known for their placid tempers and their perfectly pristine reputations. They weren't too ambitious, but they weren't stupid. They never got onto anybody's bad side.

Scorpius was not known for anything like that. Oh, his mother had tried to instill some of those values in him. His father had tried, as well. But Scorpius' secret ambition (not that he would evereverever tell anybody in the world) was to be just like Harry Potter. This was not only extremely ambitious, but it was also incredibly stupid, not good for his reputation, and certainly likely to get him onto the bad sides of many, many people.

Malfoys were not supposed to like Potters, and especially not idolize them. Scorpius knew that. And yet … Harry Potter was just so cool. He was talented, and he worked hard, and he had power over so many people and things and still was really, really humble and seemed … nice. Every time Scorpius had run into Auror Potter with his father, he'd been impressed by the way he was just nice. He smiled, and was polite, and Scorpius knew that meant a lot because his father didn't like Auror Potter, and Auror Potter knew that. They had a history. Scorpius didn't know all of it, but he knew that his father was not quite as nice to Auror Potter as Auror Potter was to him.

Having had very few genuinely nice people in his life, no strings attached, he liked that.

Callista Greengrass, his much older and very beautiful cousin, fixed her gaze on him. She was studying him. Scorpius could practically see the cogs in her Ravenclaw head chugging along, churning out observations about him. She had a long fringe of dark hair which partially covered her eyes, but it didn't stop those blue eyes from being piercing and cold. She was a sixth year now, and the whole family expected her to be Head Girl next year.

Scorpius shifted uncomfortably. He looked at the others in the compartment, but realized that none of them were paying him any mind. Only Callista. What was she trying to do? Communicate with him telepathically? She was smart, but Scorpius didn't reckon she'd figured out Legilimency just yet.

Abruptly, Scorpius stood. He mumbled something under his breath about finding the toilets or the sweets trolley or something – he didn't remember – and excused himself from the compartment unnoticed but for Callista's all-too-knowing look.

Scorpius didn't breathe easily until he was two carriages away from that compartment and Callista's piercing eyes. Merlin and Morgana, family was such a pain!

When at last he found the toilets, he threw open the door with a sharp bang, frustrated.

Then he took a quick step backwards, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

The toilets were not, as he had assumed, empty. There was a girl inside – a tiny, blonde little girl with freckles across her pale nose and wide, frightened eyes that were a weird color Scorpius didn't know what to call – brownish greenish? The only word he could think of, though, when looking at this girl was terrified. She was sitting on her trunk, which had been squeezed into the tiny water closet so that there was barely any room for her legs.

"Wha-?" Scorpius stared, confused. "What are you doing in the toilets?"

The girl didn't respond. She stared at him in return, looking about as scared as Scorpius reckoned it was possible to be.

"I – I'm sorry if I scared you," he apologized, although really unsure what he was actually apologizing for. What on earth was she doing in the toilets? Did she really expect that no one, in the course of the entire train ride from London to bloody Scotland, would need to use the restroom? (Inwardly he apologized to his mother for swearing, even as his newly-independent-self rejoiced in the small freedom.)

The girl still did not respond.

"Umm…" Scorpius wasn't really sure what to do about this. "Can I … can I help you get your trunk in a compartment?"

The girl didn't say anything, but she stood and quickly exited the toilets, looking down at her feet rather than at Scorpius. Scorpius took that as a yes, and he dragged her trunk out of the toilet with only a slight eye roll. Merlin, it was only day one!

When he realized that the girl was not going to lead the way to a compartment, Scorpius sighed and dragged the trunk off down the corridor. He peered into the compartments, looking for a relatively empty one. At last, he found one with a couple extra seats in it – the only people in there were a boy with a big H badge on his chest, a very pretty girl with a P badge on her chest, and another girl still dressed in Muggle clothes. Scorpius took a deep breath, checked to see that the girl was still following him, and opened the door. The people inside turned to look at him.

"Uh, hi," Scorpius said with a small, tight smile. "Do you mind if we sit with you?"

The group looked surprised, but H-Badge stood to help him with the trunk anyways, easily hoisting it above his head to the luggage rack. Scorpius entered the compartment, and the girl followed him slowly, warily.

"I'm Matthew Devon," the H-Badge boy introduced himself, "Head Boy. This here is one of the seventh year prefects, Victoire Weasley, and another seventh year, Emma Dawson."

Victoire, the extremely pretty Prefect, smiled warmly at them, and Emma Dawson, pretty in a less stunning way, gave them a broad, cheerful grin that brought out the sparkles in her eyes. Scorpius was sort of glad, now, that his cousin Callista was so beautiful, or he would have been pretty intimidated.

"Come on in and sit down!" Emma welcomed them happily. "First years, right? What are your names?"

"I'm Scorpius," he said, purposefully leaving off his last name, "and this is … um … I'm not really sure?"

Scorpius waited for the girl to introduce herself, but she was trembling slightly. He didn't think she would do it, in the end, and tried to think of something to say to explain it, but then he found himself surprised.

"Sophie," the girl whispered. Her voice was as tiny as her person, but Scorpius was just happy that she had said something.

"Very nice to meet you both," said Emma. She held out a hand to Sophie. "Why don't you come sit by me?"

Scorpius was surprised to see Sophie take Emma's hand immediately and attach herself to her side, sitting closely to the seventh year girl. He felt only marginally offended. Why did she like this girl right away, but didn't like him? (He tried to ignore the voice of reason in his head that was reminding him about slamming open a restroom door.)

"Do you know what Houses you want to be in?" Matthew asked. He had dark hair that hung over his eyes, just like Callista did, but his blue eyes were friendly rather than icy.

Scorpius shrugged. He wanted to be in Gryffindor, and he figured it would go over well with the Head Boy who was wearing a Gryffindor tie, but … there was always the chance that his words would get back to his father. Scorpius had no interest in that argument. Best to wait until he was Sorted.

Sophie looked confused. She also shrugged.

"That's okay," said Victoire gently. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and shot them a dazzling smile. "I didn't know what house I wanted to be in when I got to Hogwarts either. The hat barely touched my head, though, before it decided I was in Gryffindor! The other Houses are great though. We have friends in all of them. Emma here is a Hufflepuff, and she's brilliant."

"You should come to Hufflepuff," Emma said with a smile. Her curly dark hair lent her a softer appearance than Victoire, and for a moment Scorpius was tempted. If everyone in Hufflepuff was as nice as Emma … but no. If he wanted to be like Harry Potter, he had to be in Gryffindor. That's all there was to it. "Everyone is so nice, and our Head of House is great – Professor Radcliffe teaches Ancient Runes. She's ancient, but she's so funny! And so nice!"

Matthew smiled. "She is great. Our Head of House is Professor Longbottom, and he's really cool as well. He teaches Herbology, and he's a great war hero. He lives above the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley because his wife runs the place – which is only the coolest thing ever!"

Scorpius had to admit that Professor Longbottom did sound really cool. Had he fought with Harry Potter? Did he have any cool scars? Maybe Herbology wouldn't be as boring as he thought it would be…

"I still think that Hufflepuff has the better Head of House," Emma teased. "After all, Professor Longbottom doesn't wear sparkly robes and headscarves, and he certainly doesn't perform dramatic monologues in class!"

"Hence why he is so much cooler," Matthew teased back. Emma stuck out her tongue at him, and he stuck his out back again.

"Oi, lovebirds, cut it out!" Victoire exclaimed with a laugh. She turned to Scorpius and Sophie with a conspiratorial smile. "Don't mind them. They only started dating a few months ago, and they still think arguing is fun."

Scorpius wasn't really sure what to say to that, so kept quiet. He snuck a look at Sophie, who seemed content to sit and listen without saying a word, still clutching Emma's hand.

He thought about going back to the compartment with Callista … and quickly trounced that idea. This was at least a little bit better.

"So …" he said at last, "What's Gryffindor like?"

When the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station at long last, it was dark outside. Lanterns lit the way as the first years were ushered towards a massive, shadowy figure on the edge of the platform shouting "Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!"

When the first years at last found their way to the enormous figure (at least he was easy to find!), they discovered the hairiest, scruffiest, largest man that any of them had ever seen. Scorpius tried very hard to keep his jaw from dropping. Sophie didn't. Two of the first years, one with black hair and the other with red hair, greeted the man with bright smiles and waves. Scorpius tried very hard not to be jealous. It felt very unfair that they knew a professor already. He wondered who they were.

The big, hairy man ushered them down to the lake, reminding them to watch their step on the slick, mossy stone staircase which led them to the lakeshore. Scorpius wondered why only the first years went this way – what about the other students? Where were they going?

The students were all sorted into little boats at the lake shore. Since there were four to a boat, Scorpius and Sophie found themselves sharing a boat with a tall, lanky girl with funny metal things on her teeth and a short boy with a friendly smile and a face full of freckles that didn't stop chattering the entire time they were in the boat.

"Wow! Isn't this neat? Can you believe we're here? This is so cool! Look at the water! You can see the moon! And some stars, too! You know they say there's a monster in the lake? I bet it's really big. Hogwarts has been here for ages – did you hear about the Forbidden Forest? I heard there's werewolves in there! I heard they sometimes send students there for detention – I hope I never get detention!"

He went on and on, and poor Sophie looked more terrified the more he spoke. She scooted in closer to the center of the boat.

Scorpius, however, forgot about Sophie and the chattering boy and everything else in the world when they rounded a cliff and got their first good look at Hogwarts. It was magnificent – the castle, set high on a cliff, was lit up for the students' arrival. Lights shone through nearly all of the windows. The turrets stretched high into the sky, reaching for the wispy clouds that occasionally provided a veil over the moon and stars. Scorpius was stunned. He had imagined Hogwarts many times, but he had never imagined something so … beautiful. It was the only word he could think of. Maybe awesome? Amazing? Wonderful? Scorpius had never dreamed of living in such an incredible place. Would he be living in a tower? Or the dungeons? He hoped a tower – what a view that must be!

When the boats came to a halt, Al stumbled out of the boat after Rose, wishing he could go back out and look at Hogwarts again. Amazing! He wished he could have a picture of that to keep forever – he knew he'd never forget it. It wasn't quite as tall as the Shard, he thought, but still ... wow! He couldn't believe that he was going to live here! Dad had always said that it was incredible – he spoke about it with awe and wonder and love in his voice. Now Al understood why. He had a feeling that he'd always speak of Hogwarts the same way.

One the girls who had been in the boat with them, girl with dark straight hair and nervous brown eyes, stumbled into him accidentally. She apologized quickly, saying something about the slippery ground. Al ignored her. Rose replied instead – commiserating, Al thought, but he was too busy focusing on not tripping up the slippery steps to really pay attention. Girls! Always chatting.

When they reached the top at last, Hagrid reached out a massive, hairy fist to knock heavily on the door. (Al was so glad Hagrid was here – nice to see a familiar face!) After a few long moments of waiting with bated breath, the door opened. In the light of the doorway, a tiny figure was silhouetted – not much taller than the shortest first year, and wearing a tall wizarding cap in the old-fashioned style. The man's tiny little voice piped up cheerfully, carrying his words out to ring clearly through the still night.

"Welcome, students, to Hogwarts!"