Mum –
I GOT CHASER. James is furious, he says that the only reason I did was because our Keeper is dreadful, but if that were true then everybody would have had a perfect tryout, and I only made four of five goals and still got more than the others. You were right though, when you told me that half the game is learning to keep track of the Bludgers. I actually got knocked clean off my broom at our first practice. Don't worry, I was only a few feet off the ground and wasn't hurt. Crawson, the new Beater, meant to send the Bludger to the other end of the pitch but his aim is worse than Uncle Percy's. Our Beaters are decent enough, but one of them has a year of experience so hopefully they'll improve before our first match. Which, by the way, is against Gryffindor. I suspect that's another reason James is upset about it; he's probably afraid we'll win. He just wouldn't be able to bear losing to his little brother. I'd love to say he has good reason to be nervous, but half our team is either third or second years. Our captain is only a fifth year, so what little experience we do have comes from one of Slytherin's worst losing streaks in history. Last year, though, we did alright. I'm hoping to win our first match just because I'd love to have anything to rub in James's face. He's always picking at me over something, it'd be great to give him a taste of his own medicine. Sort of like you did with all your brothers when they had no idea you even knew how to fly, but you made the team and were loads better than they gave you credit for. They must have been baffled when you made the Harpies team. Professor Sprout told James once that Dad could've played professional Quidditch too, only he wanted to become an Auror.
I had no idea Dad played that well. I mean, I know he was the youngest Seeker in over a century, and he says that Granddad Potter was Chaser, the best that Hogwarts had seen in that long. Both their names are on all sorts of things down in the Trophy Room. What's all this about our family setting all these records for over a hundred years? Too much pressure, if you ask me. Put that with the fact that half my aunts and uncles were geniuses, heroes, master pranksters or all of the above and I'm not sure I see the purpose in getting up every morning.
Tell Lily that there's no way I'm trading my Agrippa Chocolate Frog card for her Hufflepuff one- it took me ages to find him. I've got about sixteen of Uncle Ron's though, so if she's desperate to get rid of Hufflepuff then fine by me. Uncle Ron has got the most uncomfortable looking picture on his. It's awful to look at unless you're really depressed about something, then it's good for a laugh.
Anyhow, I'd better be off. Rose is helping me with a Transfiguration essay that's due day after tomorrow. It's ghastly stuff, but she's Aunt Hermione's daughter so she's got the whole textbook memorized by now. We're meeting in the library because she says I'd be forever trying to get in the Ravenclaw common room. That stupid eagle on their door doesn't make any sense at all to me, but it always loves Rose's answers because they sound smarter than mine. Can't argue with that, I suppose. Give my love to the family, and ask Gran if she could sent some of that fudge next time she makes it. You know the kind – chocolate, with caramel and nuts all mixed in. I don't care if it's not healthy to eat it past midnight, it's the only way I'll ever make through these study sessions with Rosie. Make sure she sends loads of it. I'll write a more decent letter when things aren't so hectic.
Love,
Albus
/
I've always imagined Albus to be the more nervous of Harry's children, which is why he's sort of rambly here. But this chapter was fun to write – I love that the three kids will be able to ask both their parents for Quidditch advice. And I like the idea of the boys playing Chaser while Lily plays Seeker. (That idea will come in later chapters, by the way. In case you like this story enough to actually be interested.) Thanks for reading, if you did, and don't be shy. Let me know what I can do better!