Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter; I know, it's a big shock.
Chapter 2: Don't Pass Me By
Albus Severus Potter grinned as the train pulled up at the Hogsmead station, excitement bubbling up in his chest at the anticipation of finally entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the subject of so many of his father's greatest stories. He was still slightly nervous about the sorting, but his father's words had put most of his fears to rest, making room for enthusiastic anticipation. As he and Rose stepped off of the train, he looked out at the distant form of Hogwarts, and was struck with a sense of awe at its magnificent beauty. So far, it was only a speck on the horizon, a pinpoint of light atop a tall hill. He could only imagine how majestic it would look once he got closer to it.
Suddenly, Hagrid's gruff voice reached his ears as he called out over the sound of hundreds of students talking amongst their friends as they walked along the platform looking for their trunks and other luggage. "Firs' years over here! Firs' years!" boomed the friendly half-giant, and Albus made his way over to the shaggy head sticking up above the rest of the crowd, his cousin by his side. Hagrid's height made him easily distinguishable for all of the younger, much shorter people packed onto the platform. When the youngest Potter boy and his cousin stopped in front of the enormous man, Hagrid smiled down at them. "Albus! Rosie!" he cried, giving both the green eyed boy and his bushy-haired cousin thundering pats on the back with each of his massive hands, causing the two to sway dangerously and nearly lose their balance.
"Hey, Hagrid," called Rose cheerfully, waving at the large man who beamed down at her. "Hello Hagrid," Albus reiterated, smiling up at the big man. From somewhere across the platform there was a shout of, "Hey Evie, first years over there!" which could be heard easily by Albus, even over the loud chattering of hundreds of excited students.
"I know, Roo, I'm not deaf," came the exasperated reply; it was a girl's voice, quiet but carrying clearly across the platform. "Although I will be if you keep yelling in my ear; I'm only three feet away from you!" Albus grinned at the girl's sarcasm as the rest of the first years began to gather around the half-giant Care of Magical Creatures teacher. When everyone was accounted for, they began the trek towards the boats that they would be riding across the Black Lake in order to reach the castle that would be their home for the upcoming school year and six more after that.
When they finally reached the shore of the lake where the boats were docked, they looked out across the water to gaze in wonder at the amazing sight before them. The grand, well-lit castle stood out in stark relief against the inky black sky beyond, and its reflection blinked up at them from the surface of the water, hiding the dark depths of the lake from view. It really was an awe-inspiring image, the regal castle sitting atop a hill from across a dark expanse of fathomlessly deep water.
Hagrid's loud voice shattered the reverent silence that had fallen over the first years as they stared in wonder at the large castle; "Four to a boat!" he boomed. Albus and Rose clamored into one little dingy with two other children that they didn't recognize; one was obviously Muggle-born, judging by his shocked and startled expression which quickly changed to one of awe as the boat began to cut through the placid, glasslike black water, slowly picking up speed.
Albus tuned his cousin out as she began to prattle on about everything she'd read up on the boats and the Black Lake in Hogwarts: A History, knowing that whatever she was saying she'd probably told him many times before. He figured her incessant chatter was her own way of releasing the pent up nervous energy that she was no doubt feeling concerning the impending sorting. The Muggle-born boy sitting in front of them, however, had his head turned to her so that he could listen with rapt attention about the new and exciting things he was experiencing. Albus smiled to himself; at least Rosie's ramblings were helping someone out.
As they got out of the boats and began walking toward the castle, Rose continued to give her running commentary on the grounds and the castle's outside appearance, explaining the Muggle-repelling charm and the way in which the castle was built. When they reached the huge oak double doors leading into the school, she was still talking, this time about the inside of the castle. When Hagrid left them in a room off of the entrance hall to wait to be sorted, she explained all about the sorting hat's origins and the way in which it sorted people. Eventually, when she began to unknowingly repeat herself, starting to sound less confident and more nervous, Albus put a gentle hand on her arm, successfully getting her to close her mouth.
From the back of the room Albus heard the soft, carrying voice from outside before they'd gotten on the boats as it stated quietly, "That one's a Ravenclaw for sure."
"Yeah, I bet you're right. Say, what house do you reckon I'll be sorted into?" asked the companion who had allegedly "deafened" her back at the platform, who was obviously male judging by his voice and his next comment. "I mean, I dunno; do the ladies like handsome, chivalrous, strapping young lads filled with courage," Albus could just imagine the boy flexing his biceps as he said this, "Or do they fancy the brainy, intellectual type?"
"Well, I suppose it really depends on the girl… beside, what makes you think you have any of those characteristics? You could just remain unsorted for your entire student career because you have no good qualities whatsoever," his companion suggested, and Albus could practically hear the smirk in her voice.
"I'm hurt," said the boy in an overdramatic, mock-wounded voice.
"I'm sure," the girl muttered in reply, no doubt rolling her eyes. Albus grinned; these two were definitely entertaining, and he liked them already. And, even better, their conversation seemed to have caught everyone's attention, so those who had been staring at him, an obvious relation the Boy-Who-Lived, had redirected their focus to the bantering pair towards the back of the room.
Their conversation stopped abruptly as the door suddenly swung open, revealing the Herbology professor Neville Longbottom standing on the other side. He smiled at them and asked them to follow him as he lead them into the Great Hall; they eyes of all the older students were trained on them as they entered the room and a hush fell over the Hall's occupants. Albus felt himself squirm under the hundreds of pairs of eyes that stared at him, and whispers broke out among the students as they recognized him. He tried to slouch a little so that he would hopefully be less conspicuous, but this did nothing to avert peoples' attention. They reached the front of the hall as old Professor Flitwick brought out the stool and the sorting hat, placing them at the head of the room in front of the staff table.
Suddenly, a rip in the brim of the tattered, patched old hat opened up and the not-so-inanimate object burst into song:
Welcome, students, to Hogwarts School
Come seat yourselves upon this stool
So now just put on this old hat
Then I will tell you where you're at
Perhaps you'll go to Slytherin
Where they use any means in order to win
Their cunning surely is unmatched
If ambitious plans you hatch
Maybe you belong in Ravenclaw
If in your brains there is no flaw
Intellect is valued above all else
If you wish to better yourself
Or do you fit in Hufflepuff
Where they stick by you when the going gets tough
You'll find nobody who's more devoted
And their loyalty is duly noted
Then again, maybe you're a Gryffindor
Where nothing really matters more
Than bravery in the face of danger
And chivalry is not a stranger
Now, I may be torn and dirty
But appearances do lie
For when it comes to knowledge
Oh, filthy rich am I!
As the hat finished its song, the students applauded accordingly, and the first years really started to squirm in anxiety as the sorting finally began. "Alderson, Stuart," became the first Hufflepuff, followed by "Andrews, Mary ," a Ravenclaw, and then there were three more Ravenclaws and another Hufflepuff before the Slytherin "Avery, Maurica," stepped up to the stool. Neville called out a string of about seven other names and suddenly paused, looking at one of the names on the list with shock and suspicion before abruptly moving on. As he called the next name, "Boris, Kent," a boy's voice spoke in an angry whisper from the back of the crowd.
"They skipped me!" hissed the voice angrily. "Did you see that, he passed right over my name!" A soft voice shushed him, and he harrumphed audibly but let the matter drop. Neville continued down the list, and "Malfoy, Scorpius" was called up to the stool. He sat there for an abnormally long time before the hat shouted out a word that left everyone gaping at the blonde, speechless. "GRYFFINDOR!"
Albus was happy to be once again relieved of all the unwanted attention he'd been receiving as the Great Hall burst into chatter. Once the resulting roar of shocked voices that sprung up after this announcement had been taken under control once again, the sorting continued once more. He himself was startled by this new development; a Malfoy in Gryffindor was simply unheard of. He felt a twinge of pity as he thought of how mad the boy's parents would likely be, based on his own father's description of their tempers.
After Neville had called many more names, some of which Albus recognized and more of which he didn't, it was finally his turn to make his way up to the three-legged stool he sat down and the hat was placed upon his head, flopping down over his eyes and engulfing his vision in a sudden cloak of darkness.
Well, well, the hat began, it would seem that you are another Potter child. Well, this is interesting; it looks like you'd do rather well in Hufflepuff. You're loyal and kind, never thinking of yourself; definitely not Slytherin, you have hardly any sense of self-preservation, and not too keen on spending long hours studying, it would appear. So I suppose that rules out Ravenclaw as well. But there is definitely bravery in you; you hate to see others in trouble, and you enjoy helping people and standing up for the underdog. It would seem that you're pretty much evenly split between the two; well, I suppose you'd want to be with your family, so better be…
"GRYFFINDOR!" roared the hat, and the table decked in red and gold erupted into applause, all of his cousins beaming at him from their seats around it. Albus turned to give Rose a reassuring smile before walking over to join his brother, who ruffled his hair as he sat himself down on the wooden bench. He reached up in a vain attempt to flatten his unruly locks as he glanced back up to watch the rest of the sorting.
As Neville passed a name in the 'S' category, the confused and suspicious look returned to his eyes before he called out the next name; this seemed to anger the boy whose own name had been neglected earlier on. "They skipped you too," cried the indignant voice, obviously outraged; "What are they playing at!" He was once again shushed, but this time the rebuke was only half-hearted as the girl, too, seemed to be troubled by Neville's negligence to call them up to the stool.
When Neville finally reached the 'W's, there were only six people left, including the two whose names apparently can't been called. Now that Albus could actually see them since they were no longer obscured by a large crowd of people, he noted that they both had black hair; the girl was thin and petite with big, clear blue eyes while her male friend was muscular and had slate-grey eyes. They both looked oddly familiar to him, the boy definitely more so than his friend. Albus wondered idly where he recognized them from as he watched his cousin step up the stool as the hat was placed upon her head. In moments, she was pronounced a Gryffindor—not a Ravenclaw as the black haired girl had predicted—and sauntered over to the table beside him.
As the last name was called and the parchment rolled up, the two black haired eleven-year-olds stood awkwardly in front of the head table, and the headmistress cast a sidelong glance at Neville. When he just stood there, staring at the only remaining unsorted first years, she asked him sternly, "Professor, why haven't you called these two children up to the stool yet?"
"Because these two people, as far as their listed names would suggest," he gestured to the scroll in his hands, "do not exist." There was a collective gasp from every person in the room at these words, and suddenly everyone broke into excited whispers, speaking to their friends about the strangeness of this occurrence. Albus was relieved that, now, every single person's attention was averted away from himself; he had a feeling that nobody would be paying him much heed for quite a while with this news, and that was just the way he liked it.
"What," began Headmistress McGonagall slowly, trying her best to keep the shock from her face, "are the listed names of these two students?"
"Well, I have to be honest, headmistress, at first I thought it was just a joke, but it would appear that, if that is the case, someone went to great lengths to make it authentic. It's a pretty cruel joke, not funny at all if you ask me."
McGonagall sighed. "Please, Professor; just give me the names."
"Alright," replied Neville, drawing in a deep breath before quickly blurting out his answer. "Sirius Black and Evangeline Lily Snape."
A/N: Reviews are quite welcome; actually, they make my life—and my stories—so much better. So please R&R. Oh, and to add to the disclaimer; I don't own Evangeline Lily, because that would be illegal not to mention unethical; I'm just borrowing her name because I like it and it fits my character.
