Albus and Rose trembled as they waited. "Duncan, Riley!" called Headmistress McGonagall, motioning to the hat. A terrified-looking, brown-haired boy stepped forward and placed on the hat. The hat squirmed a moment, as though thinking, and then announced, "GRYFFINDOR!"The boy stood and scurried off to the Gryffindor table.
Albus imagined that he looked just like that boy - terrified. But he'd still managed to score Gryffindor. Albus could only hope that he'd be so lucky. Rose, however, was paying far more attention to the hat itself. I wonder what spell the founders used to animate it...
"Everetts, Emily!" A thin girl with mousy brown hair crept forward. It seemed the Sorting Hat would fall down to her shoulders, and it very near did, covering up to the tip of her nose. The hat considered only a moment before calling, "RAVENCLAW!"
Victoire sat at the Gryffindor table, cheering for Emily Everetts with the rest, slightly less enthusiastically as the Ravenclaws. The group of girls surrounding her clapped, though most looked bored with the ceremony, as this was their seventh time viewing it. Of course, Victoire's friends (rather, the girls that followed her about and mimicked her) were not too bright. Victoire herself was quite eager to watch the sorting, as her cousins were being sorted today. She glanced back at them, her silvery sheet of hair swinging with her head. They looked so young and worried! Oh, how she loved her cousins. When she was younger, they had been baby dolls to play with. Now she was much too young for that, but they all shared such wonderful secrets...
"Finnagen, Sam!" A boy with black hair walked to the Sorting Hat, appearing slightly less mortified than the rest. The hat hesitated a moment, and then called, "GRIFFINDOR!"
James sat only a little bit away, with his own group of friends. The boys around him were mostly second years, but a few were third years. And Riley Duncan and Sam Finnagen had joined them as well, drawn to the older boys like mice to cheese. Many kept glancing over to the (much older) girls sitting about Victoire. James was quite popular, which he considered his birthright as Harry's oldest child. Of course, it wasn't easy - carrying out Harry's legacy. It was quite demanding, as James had figured out quickly the past year. He glanced at Albus. Perhaps, if Albus managed to be sorted in Gryffindor, he could take some of the weight off of James's shoulders. And Rose as well.
"Harringson, Penny." A girl that had golden-sunshine hair and a mortified face, hurried to the hat and placed it on. "GRYFFINDOR!" Rose felt a sting of disbelief at this. The girl looked delicate as a leaf. Albus could not help but fidgeting. As much as he dreaded his turn at the hat, he wished it would hurry up and come. He wasn't sure how much waiting he could endure.
A girl named Madison Jerico was sorted into Hufflepuff along with a boy named Jordan Lennings. Then, Professor McGonagall called, "Malfoy, Scorpius." The hall's clamor quieted somewhat as those who had heard of the Malfoy's wealth and legacy quieted to listen. Blonde, proud Scorpius strode confidently to the hat and placed it confidently on his head. "SLYTHERIN!" it called.
Well, thought Albus, no surprise there. As the cheers rose from the Slytherin table, Albus found that he had an immediate dislike of Scorpius Malfoy. James, looking with narrowed eyes at the Slytherin student, immediately felt similarly. Rose found that she didn't really care about Scorpius, a reacting she found most surprising. Normally, she was concerned about everything. And, of course, Victoire recognized Scorpius, but what did it matter, really? This was her last year at Hogwarts. Why be worried about a little first year?
"Opry, Tammantha." A girl that looked to be a shadow itself strode to the stool. She didn't even have the hat properly on when it called, "SLYTHERIN!" Appearing pleased, she flipped a long lank of dark hair and strode to join Scorpius Malfoy and the other Slytherins.
The time seemed to be ticking away too quickly for Rose. With each moment, she tensed more. What if she was sorted in awful Slytherin. Suddenly repenting all of her bad doings, she feverently swore that she'd never disobey Hermoine or Ron again - or Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, Grandpa and Grandma Weasley, Uncle George, Uncle Charlie, Uncle Percy, Uncle Bill, or even Aunt Fleur. And she'd always be as kind as she could to Albus, James, Lily, Hugo, and Victoire. Just don't let her get sorted in Slytherin!
Wren Parkinson was sorted in Hufflepuff. Dolores Preach was sorted in Ravenclaw. And then -
"Potter, Albus." The room's clatter of cheering and applause for Dolores Preach ended abruptly as the students stared at Harry's second child. Albus gulped and walked unsteadily toward the sorting hat sitting still on the stool. I looked innocent. He picked it up. It's smooth material was frayed. Grateful for a sturdy surface, he sat and placed the hat on his head. Relief spread through him as the hat covered his eyes and gave him a sense of peace and serenity.
"Albus Severus Potter," the hat's low voice said. "child of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. Brother of James Sirius Potter. Ah, yes, you have Weasley blood. They are quite famous now, aren't they, for their legacy of being sorted into Gryffindor?"
Gryffindor! Albus agreed feverently in his mind. Not Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin!" the Sorting Hat let out something that might have been a cackle. "and I thought your brother was the spitting image of your father!" Albus gawked. No one had ever said he was like his father when James was around. The Hat listened to the mess of Albus's thoughts for a moment more. "No," he finally agreed. "Not Slytherin. And not Ravenclaw. No... they would not help you..."
Gryffendor, Albus begged.
The hat considered. "I think you would do better in Hufflepuff." Sensing Albus's disappointment and indignance at these words, it added, "No, I am sure. Hufflepuff has hidden in the shadows too long. Cowards! Hmph. There are no cowards in Hogwarts. Cowards don't come. You will bring glory to Hufflepuff, I believe." And, before Albus could ponder these words, the hat called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" to the awaiting crowd of students and professors.
The Hufflepuff house immediately let out a torrent of sound that even the ghosts shrunk from. Despite his disappointment, a smile rose to Albus's face at the warm welcome. He placed the hat back on the stool, and stepped towards the Hufflepuff table, his new home. He grinned as they slapped his back, and he ended up sitting beside three other Hufflepuff first years - Wren Parkinson, Madison Jerico, and Jordan Lennings. They all grinned at him, and he beamed back. Maybe being in Hufflepuff would be just like being in Gryffindor.
Gregor Ryans was sorted in Ravenclaw. Gertrude Sean was sorted in Hufflepuff. Albus cheered as loud as his house for Gertrude, who sat beside him, and beamed. Cristopher Stephenson was sorted in Slytherin. Hannah Thomas was sorted into Ravenclaw. Dean Theiner was sorted into Gryffindor. Then Rose was the last unsorted first year.
"Weasley, Rose." Rose held her head high, ignoring the looks she was given. Her family was so old, many of the students would hold grudges against her just for being a Weasley. Albus, James, and Lily were lucky. They carried their father's name and a completely different legacy. As the oldest in her family, she represented herself and Hugo right now, as well as any other children that Ron and Hermoine might ever have. She placed the hat upon her head with upmost dignaty.
"Rose Weasley," the Sorting Hat greeted her. "You're Hermoine Granger's daughter, aren't you? I can sense her brains at work in you...and Ron Weasley's spunk."
I'm more like my mother, Rose responded conversationally. My brother, Hugo, is more like Dad.
"Ah, yes, I can tell, by your memories of him. As for you, I think that you belong in," this to the whole room, "RAVENCLAW!" The booming cheers of the Ravenclaw table made Rose abandon the hat immediately, curious as she was about it. She hurried to the clapping Ravenclaws, and took her place beside the other first years - Dolores Preach, Gregor Ryans, Hannah Tomas, Emily Everetts, and a few others.
Professor McGonagall motioned for Argus Filch, the caretaker, to remove the hat and stool, as the sorting was over. "Let us eat!" she called, and the students called their approval. Food of all sorts appeared before them, and both Albus and Rose could not help but stare. They had never seen such abundance before. Their fellow first years had similar reactions. Then they grinned at each other and dug in.
"What a shame," Eloise, one of Victoire's friends said, "that your relations aren't in Gryffindor."
"Yes," ageed Victoire, though she doubted Eloise cared. "it is." The rest of the girls clamored their opinions and Victoire barely surpressed a sigh. The girls that followed her were of all years, and some had more tiring personalities. Sometimes Victoire wished they would simply quiet down for just a moment and let her be.
James laughed with his friends, who hadn't commented much upon his cousin and brother's being in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It was, he thought, better than Slytherin, but he would rather have had them in Gryffindor. With Albus in Hufflepuff, how would he be able to pester him anymore? Just in hallways, was the answer, and he found that rather depressing.
Once Albus had gotten over his enitial shock of the food and of being sorted into Hufflepuff, he began to introduce himself to the others, mainly those in his year. "I'm Albus," he said, sticking his hand out to one, whose name had escaped him. The boy was of dark complexion and obvious good humor.
"Jordan Lennings," he replied, shaking Albus's hand heartily. Then he gazed about the room in an almost dazed manner. "It is amazing here, isn't it?"
"Better than James ever described it," Albus agreed, and hastily added, "that's my brother, James," and pointed him out.
Jordan nodded. "Did you know... before you got the letter?"
"That I was a wizard?" Jordan nodded. "Well, I guess not, but we really kind of guessed. What about you? Are you muggle born?"
Jordan looked appaled. "Muggle?"
Albus realized suddenly that Jordan was really rather clueless. "I mean normal, none-magic people. Were you parents a witch or wizard?"
Jordan scratched his head. "No," he answered, "but I never knew my Mum."
Albus shrugged. "She may or may not have been, then." He let that settle in. "All the same, though, you're here, and that means that you're a wizard, no doubt about it." He took a deep drink of pumpkin juice. When he brought down the cup, he found another hand in his face. Blinking, he shook it.
"I'm Wren Parkinson," said the face on the other end of the hand. It had shaggy brown hair, and freckles.
"I'm -"
"Albus Potter, I know," Wren said quickly. "Is it true, then, that you're a real Potter?"
Albus's eyebrows came together. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Wren, slower, "Are you really a child of Harry Potter?"
"Uh, yeah, I mean, of course," Albus said, confusion flooding him. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Now Wren turned scarlet. "I only mean... wow. A Potter. I'm going to be sharing a dormitory with a Potter!" he beamed around at everyone like this was some sort of declaration. Albus's face turned redder.
Jordan held out his hand to Wren and introduced himself. Albus shot him a grateful look. He'd have to explain to Wren later that he didn't like attention being drawn to himself...
Rose, too, was introducing herself to he dorm mates as well. She immediately found Doloras Preach to be the sort that brags about herself endlessly. Hannah Tomas seemed nice enough, but quiet and reserved. Emily Everetts, however, in contrast to her earilier, timid and terrified appearence, now seemed outspoken, and, because of it, hallarious. She reminded Rose of an older, healthy version of Lily. And then she felt a pang of homesickness.
On the other side of the hall, Scorpius Malfoy was joking with the rest of the Slytherins. They readily made fun of Hugo Potter, for making Hufflepuff, by far the most pitiful house. And Rose Weasley, for making dorky Ravenclaw! Ha! Scorpius hung back only slightly, unwilling to pass judgement on people he had never met before. He knew that his father knew their parents, though how well he was blind to. He told himself quietly that he would have to meet them before he could say as awful things as they were saying. However, on the train, he had met Emily Everetts.
Inturrupting Tamantha Opry's vivid accounts about the look on Rose's face to Christopher Stevenson, he told his fellow first years about his encounter with Emily Everetts. "I was only minding my own buisness when she bursts in with her wand in her hand and says she wants to show me something. I want to kick her out, but I can't because she's already -"
Tamantha inturrupted him before he was even properly begun his story. "She's already what? Crying?"
"Not yet," he said, instantly thinking up a better story. "She didn't have anyone to sit with, and she wanted to sit with me. I said no, but she wouldn't go away. She got out chocolate frogs and tried to bribe me with them, but I was adament. Then," he stifled a laugh at the made-up picture in his mind's eye. "A frog, the tiniest I've ever seen, jumps up and climbs up her nose!"
There was an outbreak of snickers at the table. Scorpius joined in, feeling only slightly guilty. It wasn't as if Emily Everetts would ever know of this story, he reassured himself. When the laughter died, Tamantha asked, "Then did she run out crying?"
Feeling a surge of dislike for her, he answered, "Yes, she did." Tamantha nodded and returned to her food. Christopher Stephenson began an eager speech upon the mightiness of Slytherin, which Scorpius immediately tuned out. He heard enough of that from his father.
He glanced out at the other tables, full of laughter and merriment and food; it seemed like paradise. And, though the Slytherin table had the same food, it looked less delicious. Maybe the people around it were souring it, with their snickers and rudeness instead of merriment and laughter. Scorpius wished for an instant that he was at any of the other tables - even Hufflepuff. His father would never forgive him for being in Gryffindor... Maybe Ravenclaw. But it was done now - he had asked the hat for Slytherin, and it had given it to him.
When the feast, at last, was over, and yawns traveled about, McGonagall gave her speech. It was nothing rather magnificent, and it said nothing that anyone, even the first years, hadn't known already. Most were too full and too tired to pay it much mind. Then they all tramped out into the Great Hall, before the marble staircase, to their dormitories.
Perhaps they meant it to happen, perhaps it was subconsiously, or perhaps just fate meant it to be; Rose, James, Albus, and Victoire found themselves standing together just before they parted. They shared a few glances with each other, and then muttered their good nights before seperating to join their own Houses.
