The morning of Albus' first full day at Hogwarts. Woo Professor Longbottom! And yes, Scorpius saying Albus "looks like a codfish" in the previous chapter is a reference to Mary Poppins. Sorry.
Albus groggily rolled out of bed and into his robes before heading down to breakfast. He looked over and saw Jupiter sitting alone at her table. He looked over at the prefects - occupied. An open space was next to Jupiter. He quietly sat down there and began comparing schedules. They had transfiguration together tomorrow afternoon, and potions together on Friday.
He heard a grunt, and looked up to see one of the 7th year Gryffindors glaring at him. "Why exactly are you over here, Potter?" he said with a sneer.
"I, uh, have a friend over here?"
"What, that Lovegood? Loony as her mum, no decent wizard…" He was cut off by a quick punch to the gut Albus threw that saw McGonagall rushing over.
"What just happened here?! Potter, McGraw, explain yourselves!" Scorpius looked over from his lonely meal at Hufflepuff.
"Mr. McGraw insulted Jupiter so Albus punched him."
"Hmph. Not a good start to the year you two! Detention, 8:00 tonight, my office." Albus sadly looked at his schedule. He never did it right. Well, off to charms. He waved bye at Jupiter, who looked apologetic. Scorpius got up and followed him.
"You have charms too? I've heard Flitwick is a good teacher."
"Me too. My dad said he was one of his favorites. They trudged off to Flitwick's class, Albus thankful for Scorpius' presence. Maybe being sorted into Gryffindor wouldn't interfere with his friends. Or - what to call them exactly? He certainly considered them his friends, but who knew if they he was their friend? He pushed the tangle of pronouns out of his mind and sat down next to Scorpius in the classroom.
Professor Flitwick popped up behind his desk to take roll, having stepped up on a tower of books. Albus had to supress the urge to giggle. "Class, please take your wands out." The clatter of books and bags and new wands being plopped on desks resumed. The professor waited until they were settled before beginning. "The charm we will learn today is a classic first year charm, one of my personal favorites. It's always fun to watch a student's awe at one of their first pieces of magic. Now, the wand motion is very simple. Hold your wands straight out, and swish and flick, like so…" Albus became smiling. Aunt Hermione loved telling this story. "The spell is wingardium leviosa. Say it with me: wingardium…" The class chorused with him.
Feathers appeared in front of all of their desks and Albus pointed his wand at his own promptly. "Wingaardium leviosa," in a way that'd do Hermione proud, and the feather sailed up around the room, with a huge grin spreading across Albus' face. He looked over at Scorpius, who had The Standard First Grade of Spells open to the appropriate page. "What are you doing?"
"Did you know that 85% of spells come from Latin roots, and that this is one of them? Perhaps I should put more time into my Latin studies…"
"Scorpius…"
"And you can make this charm longer lasting by mixing in…"
"Scorpius!"
"Hmm?"
"Try the spell?"
"I, um, ehm, I'm bad at charms?"
"Naw, you're not. Look…" Albus guided Scorpius' wand arm in the motion. "Perfect, now…"
"Wingardium leviosaa!"
"No, no. It's leviosa, not leviosa. Try again." Scorpius gave it another go, and soon his own feather was joining Albus' in soaring around the classroom.
"Beautiful, boys! Ten points to Gryffindor and ten points to Hufflepuff!" Both boys smiled and kept practicing, watching their feathers flutter and dance. This was magic. "All right, class, our time is up. Be sure to practice. Also read through the relevant section in The Standard First Grade of Spells - this class won't just be for practice, but theory as well. Now, off you go!" The class left, and Scorpius waved as he headed off to defense and Albus headed off to Herbology.
He was excited for the class - Professor Longbottom was a family friend, and he had been teaching Albus bits about herbology and magizoology for years. It was his favorite subject and he thought he might want to do research in it when he was older.
He breathed in deeply as he walked into the greenhouse, relaxing in the familiar smell and the warm air. He pulled on his dragon-hide gloves and smiled as Professor Longbottom walked in. Professor Longbottom smiled back and began.
"Many claim that this class is their least interesting. Who cares about a bunch of moldy old plants, eh?" The class snickered in agreement. He winked back at the class and continued. "I aim to show all of you wrong. There is great beauty and power in plant and animal life. Many of the greatest achievements of the world were inspired by them. Severus Snape, the old potions professor here," (here he stood bowed, in a moment of respect) "used to claim he could bottle fame and put a stopper in death. But where, do you imagine, do the ingredients for those potions come? Hmm?" A pause, and then Albus piped up.
"Herbology of course! Professor Sprout when she was here prepared mandrakes so Professor Snape could brew the potion to unfreeze those turned to stone by the basilisk, for example."
"And there he goes, Potter bringing up his daddy again…"
"I'll note," Professor Longbottom interrupted the same seventh year who had accosted Albus at breakfast, "that firstly, I have very sharp hearing, and secondly, that Albus never mentioned his father in his explanation. Anyway, I'll thank you not to sour my dramatic entrance." The class tittered, and the flustered seventh year looked away. Albus' cousin Sirius, who was sitting next to the seventh year, looked apologetically over at him. Sirius was three years older than himself, and had always been like a big brother to Albus. He was Ron and Hermione's son, and a fellow Gryffindor.
The class continued, with Professor Longbottom introducing some of the more fantastic flora, and mentioning mandrakes due to Albus' comment. "For those interested," he concluded, as the class was rustling their parchments into their bags, "I'd recommend looking for A History of Herbology, which can be found in the library. It provides a lot of the context for how these plants were discovered and found to have the magical properties they do. These things don't just pop out of thin air, you know. Dismissed!" The class left, and Albus was left standing awkwardly. "Yes, Albus?"
"I...thank you." And he rushed out of the classroom. He'd just stood up for him because the two were family friends, of course. Ah, well. He decided to skip lunch; his breakfast had been so big he wasn't hungry. Besides, his afternoon was open and he wanted to spend all of it in the library. The herbology book was calling, and he had the homework for charms too.
He was actually kind of surprised he wasn't in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, now he thought about it. As a kid, he'd always loved The Tales of Beedle the Bard and all the Muggle stories Hermione had given him, like The Lord of the Rings, and The Wizard of Earthsea. But even reading them he'd known he couldn't be that brave. He just couldn't. Even though his parents were both Gryffindor and he himself wished to be brave, in some measure, he kind of felt they valued the wrong things anyway. Friendship, to him, was more important than anything. Ironic, because he'd never really had any close friends. Just books. Lots of books, thanks to Hermione. Adults, especially Hermione, he'd connected to more easily than those his age.
She often joked (and Harry half agreed, he knew, in that joking way) that she'd gotten the wrong child. Sirius was a Gryffindor through and through, like his namesake and like James, Albus' older brother. James was a lot like his grandfather, and by extension his father - impulsive, and a bit arrogant (though there was where he differed from his father). Lily, his younger sister, was still young, and gentle and kind, but she'd inherited some of his mum's feistiness.
Albus though - Albus just kind of wasn't anything. Bland, he thought. Utterly bland. The sorting hat was right, he thought - he needed to find his place in the world. In his musings, he hadn't noticed he'd reached the library. "More in his head than out it," his father had said, his mother nodding solemnly. With a shake of his head he went in. Time for that herbology book. He'd have to be careful not to get too lost though - dinner was at 6:00, flying lessons for first years at 7:00 (he didn't know if he was looking forward to those), and then there was McGonagall's detention at 8:00, and then curfew at 11:00. It'd be a busy afternoon and evening.