Notes: I had thought this chapter would be filler, but it was far more eventful than I thought it would be! I have been much more productive than I thought I would be when I started this project, so that is very satisfying. I have also changed the title and story description from the generic boring one before to a more specific and pertinent one...

Please Read and Review; I hope you enjoy!

Albus wasn't usually one for theatrics, but he had to admit that Professor Lang's tone was very menacing.

"-Yes." The class was silent.

"Who agrees with Ken?" Luca, and two other girls and two boys from Gryffindor put their hands up. Albus had put 'no', and decided not to lie about it.

"Okay. Now, put your hand up if you are muggle-born." The class stared in confusion. After a few moments, it was clear why he had asked. The only one with their hands up were the very same that had thought the answer was 'yes'.

"Now, Mr Bourghess, what does this tell us?" Scorpius tried and failed to hide his laugh at Macolm's stupid surname. Albus had to cover his smile too to avoid the glares thrown at them. The task became rather more difficult when Bourghess blinked stupidly.

"I d-don't know, sir."

"Hmm, didn't you tell me to ask Gryffindors?"

"Yes, but ask the smart people like Rose, not people like me!" he looked around, as if knowing that the Gryffindors would laugh at his joke. Professor Lang, however, was not amused.

"I do not appreciate the cheek, Mr Bourghess. If you are stupid you should not be showing off about it. 10 points from Gryffindor."

The Gryffindors scowled, whilst the Slytherins tried to hide their glee.

"Right then, Miss Granger-Weasley, you have been proffered again. What do these answers tell us?"

"There is a clear correlation between being muggle born- and therefore unaware of the magic world- and believing that wandless magic is powerful enough to kill people. This likely stems from ignorance and the misconception that magic is the same without a wand as it is with a wand. It shows us that Muggles probably perpetrate ideas of wandless magic as much as they do wand-using magic."

Albus shook his head slightly, disappointed that his cousin could not find a more polite way to put it.

"Well, students, Miss Granger-Weasley has accurately pinpointed a relationship between two pieces of information; furthermore, she has made a good guess as to what drives this. It is a useful intellectual skill to have." Professor Lang started. Rose smiled arrogantly.

"-But, alas, she has fallen to the very thing Western wizards are very susceptible to: arrogance."

Rose's smile fell faster than she blinked.

Professor Lang raised his hand. A figure jumped down from the ceiling and landed on the floor with a massive *BOOM*. The class jumped.

"This is a Vessel spirit!" shouted Professor Lang. "Perfect training dummies! Their form can be specified depending on how you would like to train, and you can do anything you like to them as they do not feel pain. Once you have broken them they will take a bit of time to reassemble- depending on how hard you break them, of course!"

The figure was just like a Muggle drawing mannequin, with simplified limbs and a faceless head. It was not distinctly humanoid.

"So, class, all of you wizard-born folk think that wandless magic cannot kill people? Let us see. -Human anatomy: strength, high tier!" he shouted, turning to the wooden mannequin. At once, the figure began to shapeshift into a more humanoid figure. Muscles erupted across the wooden frame, but there was still a marked absence of any facial features.

"The reason why Vessel spirits are so good for training is that many of them have been adapted to diagnose the amount of damage you do after you do it, so you can aim your moves better. Watch." He drew out his wand. "REDUCTO!"

The spell exploded towards the left hand of the mannequin. The Reductor Curse was, of course, well known.

"Impetus Revelio." Professor Lang muttered. The Vessel spirit, whose hand was now either severed or mangled in parts, began speaking without moving its facial features as the class watched on in curiosity.

"Area hit: Left wrist, destroying all carpal bones. Pain level: high. Likelihood of death of victim: low. Feedback: a powerful curse, but only well aimed if you took out their wand arm. Not enough to kill on its own."

"Regenerate."

The left hand began to patch itself up immediately.

"Now, class, for the wandless magic." Professor Lang suddenly raised up his right hand, and it was covered in violently swirling smoke from inside which an emerald light was glowing dangerously.

As the class watched, the smoke swirled even faster, wrapping and twisting itself round his palm like a snake, and all the while lit by the pulsing light. Albus could feel the cold air touching where they were standing as it was blown from Professor Lang's fist. The light flickered and darted one last time, as if preparing for a dance of death.

*SMASH*

The head of the mannequin exploded upon contact with his fist. The class watched, mouths agape, as the entire head was incinerated.

"Impetus Revelio."

"Area hit: Skull. Pain level: maximum." Professor Lang sneered at the assessment.

"Likelihood of death of victim: 100 percent." The class started, wide eyed.

"Feedback: The entire skull region was obliterated, using what has been detected as only a moderate amount of magical energy. This attack would effortlessly kill the average person, even the average wizard putting up the best defenses he could. Only problem, the explosion of blood and brains might be difficult to clean."

Albus saw Garrett looking extremely queasy. Terry Garland looked up in fear at the Professor, who was standing there with one eyebrow barely raised.

"Western wizards, western wizards… They invented the wand some time ago, and believed that it brought them supreme power over the magic world! The study of wandless magic was revoked! Useless, they said! Of course, they could never ignore the one advantage they had. Before long, everything was about wands. Corporations built up, worth millions of galleons, based on the ability to make and sell and study wands. A technology which was embedded into society!" Professor Lang boomed.

"But wandless magic was outcast as weak because it did not suit the wand-selling syndicates, and many forgot its true power! This was made doubly easy by the fact that the average wizard could never hope to do wandless magic. It is a forgotten art, only pursued in Asia, where wizards understood their spiritual roots! For Western wizards, magic became a science, and not an art."

Ken raised his hand. The Professor nodded. Ken spoke, looking slightly uncomfortable. "If I'm not mistaken, sir, it is actually easier to kill someone with wandless magic than with a wand, no?"

No way, thought Albus.

"You are correct, Mr Handa. Why do you say this, though?"

"Umm… the use of wands allows the average wizard to amplify his power, but it also in some way filters it. Wands come from sentient magical creatures in their core, and wood as a body. They are not designed to be evil, or to kill, for otherwise you would not have a Phoenix feather or Dragon scale in your wand- both from 'light' creatures, especially the former. So when you try to kill someone with a wand, it dilutes the power of your offense and you need more hate and evil to release the power necessary to take a life."

Professor Lang nodded, clearly impressed. Albus knew that it made a lot of sense, and Scorpius and Luca nodded next to him.

"But as a human who wants to kill someone else we harbour the intent to do harm, so Wandless Magic allows us to amplify this. Without a filter, wandless magic is an expression of the volatile power of one's soul mixed with the suffocating power of one's magical energy. Furthermore, if you are trained in the Muggle martial arts, you can use it to greatly embolden a normal strike, just like you did- a regular Tiger boxing strike from Chinese Kung fu, no? Whereas you would have been able to break a nose and knock out a few teeth easily, this magic allowed you to obliterate every obstacle in the way of your punch. With wand magic the weakness is that you shoot magic in a ray out your wand, but the wand does not contribute any offensive power. In wandless magic, that offensive power can come from yourself, and if you are a trained warrior, a full power strike is enough to shatter several layers of rock, I would think."

Professor Lang grinned wide, and the class was shocked to see the happiness on his face- even Ken.

"Mr Handa, do you mean to tell me you are trained in the Muggle art of fighting?"

Ken flinched, and looked down at his feet. "Y-yes… I know it isn't noble for a wizard but at that time I didn't even know I was one... and I needed to protect my family. I find the physical training very relaxing when things get tough, even though I don't really know any proper form too well."

Professor Lang just laughed. "Very good, Mr Handa, very good. Did you learn it by yourself?" Ken nodded hesitantly.

"Right! Come up then!"

The class murmured amongst themselves as Ken stepped up to the front of the classroom, with the still smoking smithereens of the Vessel spirit.

"Reparo." Professor Lang said, pointing at its remains. At once, an energy flowed to it, and it rebuilt itself.

"Thank you for the energy sir!" it said, without moving its face.

"That is no problem. Anatomy: Human. Strength: Moderately high. Magic: none. Martial arts: skilled. Target: Kenichi Handa, but only minor injuries if any please! ATTACK MODE ENGAGE!"

"Wha-" started Scorpius, but he couldn't finish, as a hand smashed itself towards Ken's startled face. The latter dodged it smoothly.

"Let's see how you do, Mr Handa!"

But Ken… smirked?

"Yes sir! I've always wanted an opportunity to train without hurting people!"

Professor Lang smirked as well. "I know you do. Any fighter would." Ken grinned as he dodged another punch.

"Right then, no pain felt right sir?"

"Indeed. Do as you wish."

The next punch came down with lightning speed. Ken smiled.

The class gasped. He had just caught the slicing punch, and in one fluid motion, bent down so that the momentum of the figurine pushed it over his shoulder, where he proceeded to slam it into the ground. Professor Lang looked very pleased.

The mannequin jumped backwards to get on its feet, but Ken leaped forwards to stop it from gaining stability. A quick flourish, and several punches were traded, before Ken went nearly flat on the floor and did a kick Albus had never seen, sweeping the feet of the mannequin up so it fell backwards awkwardly.

*SMASH* Ken's upper cut smacked into the Vessel spirit's jaw, and its head rolled painfully. Ken suddenly jumped upwards, and came straight back down with a kick which spun midair and straight into the mannequin. It crashed in a heap in the corner, and stopped moving.

"Excellent, Mr Handa. Truly excellent." Professor Lang said, clapping. Luca beamed, and started clapping too. Albus traded a look with Scorpius, and they grinned before joining in. Soon the applause was surprisingly loud, with the whole of Slytherin and most of the Gryffindor girls joining in.

"I was expecting strong magical potential in some of you students- and the rest of you to be useless, of course. But I did not expect any of you to be trained in the martial arts. You will find that martial arts training is a very good stepping stone for wandless magic, because, as Mr Handa pointed out, wandless magic is an extension of the physical being of a human."

"-This is complete rubbish!" shouted Terry Garland. "Everyone knows wandless magic is inferior to wand magic, and everyone knows that muggle fighting is low class and vulgar! I can't believe they let inferior wizards like you teach here!"

Professor Lang looked at him as if he were a particularly slimy slug. "Good, I was not expecting all of you to accept it straight away. So embedded is the Western arrogance that it will be difficult for those of you with smaller brains to accept the real truth." Albus laughed, and then had to cover his mouth quickly.

"For your information, I disrespect the English wizarding nobility as much as they do me, so I don't mind if you think I'm a nutcase, so long as you do not disturb my lessons. I want to draw your attention to the Bonus Question though. Mr Garland, what would happen to British wizarding society if people found a way to stop wands from working?"

"What? That's impossible!"

"-And if it did happen? How would the average wizard compare to a muggle?"

"We would still be superior, of course."

"Why?"

"Because… because we understand magic."

"WRONG!" Professor Lang roared suddenly. The class jumped violently in their seats.

"Mr Agarth! How does wizarding intellect compare to muggle intellect?!"

"We are smarter." said the stocky Gryffindor boy.

"Incorrect! This is why I hate Western wizards. Wizards have gotten around for centuries using magic. They have had little need to adapt, because the average magic ability is enough to provide food, through gardening charms, and warmth, through heat charms. Meanwhile, Muggles die left right and centre because they can't get enough food, and have done so for millenia. So they are always inventing, always thinking, always observing! Muggle technology is far more advanced than wizarding technology! The only reason we think we are so clever is because we are more powerful. Without magic, the average wizard would be no more than a backwards fool."

"That's rubbish-"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME MR GARLAND! MISS GOSHAM, HOW DOES THE AVERAGE WIZARD COMPARE TO A MUGGLE IN TERMS OF PHYSICAL STRENGTH?"

"We are stronger, of course!"

"Wrong again! You've grown up, watching your parents levitate luggage and bags of flour with featherweight charms, apparating instead of walking or using other forms of transport, and using household charms to do all their work for them! You think they are strong? Muggles do all the physical labour themselves! They carry their flour and heavy luggage, they cut down trees with tiny axes, they wash dishes by scrubbing them with their bare hands, and they run when they are late to pick up their child! Furthermore, the strongest muggles are trained in martial arts. The average muggle is physically stronger than a wizard by a bit. The trained muggle is stronger than a wizard by several leagues!"

"-So if people found a way to block wands, we'd be screwed, basically?" asked Garrett.

"If we ignore the slang, yes, British wizarding society would be destroyed. Muggles are smarter. Muggles are stronger. Muggles are also, normally, more united. The only reason why wizards can beat them is due to their magic. But what if their wands got taken away from them? They can't perform any wandless magic because they've never bothered to learn the inferior magic! They can't fight because they've never bothered to learn the vulgar means of martial arts! They would be destroyed by muggle technology, which relies on no magic!"

"BUT NO ONE CAN BLOCK WANDS, YOU IDIOT!"

"-Another detention, Mr Garland. Do not speak to a teacher that way. Also, it is a thought experiment, not a reality. Luckily for you."

Somehow, Albus felt a great pull towards wandless magic now. He knew deep down that Professor Lang was right. It didn't seem likely that wands could be blocked… but wandless magic would expand his power. Not many people knew it… so it would give him something to distinguish himself from the rest of his family. He could show them that he was not just a little boy.

Wait, since when did I think like this?

"-Right, finish the rest of the questions for homework. We have discussed a lot today, so it shouldn't be a problem! NO STRAGGLERS, AM I CLEAR?" Albus broke out his stupor and nodded stupidly.

"Right, one last activity for today. A practical one, this time." The class looked at each other, mostly excited. Professor Lang waved his hand, and a bag came flying to his hand. He reached in and took out a glowing blue bean.

"Who recognises this?" Rose, Scorpius and Luca all shot their hands up.

"Malfoy?" Rose scowled at him. Luca just shrugged.

"That's a faba mensurae -or measuring bean- a bean which can measure the output of magical activity. It absorbs the energy, and stores it. It was banned at magical sporting events, as people would store excessive amounts of energy and eat it just before games."

"Good. Today, I will begin to teach you how to channel your energy. We will then retrieve your measurements for relative units of wandless strength. First, take your wands and place them in the circle in the corner. He motioned to the right side of the classroom, where there was a glowing gold circle."

"What will happen?"

"The wands will be bound to stay there until you remove it. No one except you can take it out, and it will not interfere with your attempts to channel energy. When you are done, come up to me and take a Measuring Bean."

The class shuffled over excitedly. Albus placed his wand down, and went towards Professor Lang. When he got to where he was standing, he suddenly noticed that the Professor was staring at him with his face impassive.

"...Sir?"

"Forgive me Potter. How do you feel now that you have dropped your wand in that circle?"

"O-oh? I-I don't think I feel any change. I feel warm, because the sunlight is coming through the window, and my body feels relaxed. But nothing special."

"Does it feel like you are missing part of yourself?"

"...No, not really. It feels like I have just taken a weight off my shoulders, though."

Professor Lang regarded him very oddly, and then realised there was a queue forming. He brusquely handed Albus a small blue bean, leaving him standing there quite perplexed.

"Return to your desks once you have collected a bean."

Albus did just that.

"Right, now that everyone is ready, let's begin! Channeling energy comes easiest out of the palms. This is because magical nerves connect there- and that's also why we hold wands in our hands. Wandless magic can come from elsewhere, but it is more difficult to shout a spell out your knee, for example. Wandless magic is governed by concentration! You must calm yourself down, think of nothing, and envisage a stream of energy flowing from all parts in your body to your fingertips. The bean will shriek slightly once it detects magical input. Do not lose patience if you hear nothing! Just allow the energy to follow its natural course."

"You may begin. I strongly recommend closing your eyes until you hear a shriek."

Albus closed his eyes. He tried to focus his energy on the bean, but he felt thoughts swirling inside his head. Failure to get into Gryffindor, his family's rejection, his Herbology lesson with his Godfather tomorrow… they swirled around as if blocking his way.

-You have your father's eyes. That thought was also familiar to him. He thought of his value to society. He had been followed since he was a baby, the son of the legendary saviour, the one who looked like him. His value would forever be determined by his birth, and not by himself.

NO! That's not what I want!

Albus suddenly knew what to do, but knew not how he knew. He imagined a dark hole in the corner of his mind, and gently pulled all his thoughts there, imagining them as swirling lines being swallowed up.

He breathed through his nose. His head suddenly felt empty. It felt free.

He imagined streams of golden warmth all around his body. They flowed down from his head, up from his legs, all collecting at his heart, which fluttered suddenly. Then...

Direct it! He imagined the energy all zooming into his outstretched right hand. It rolled straight off, towards its target.

"EEEEEEEEEK!"

The class jumped. Albus nearly lost his connection.

"Very good Potter! A connection this quickly! You can open your eyes now, and keep the flow up."

Albus did just that. There was no question who Professor Lang was staring at, in the midst of the other students with their eyes still closed. When they made eye contact, Professor Lang glared at him as if reminding him to focus on his bean.

Albus looked down. He could see the bean swelling pleasantly, even though he could not see any magic coming out his fingertips.

He closed his eyes once more, and imagined the waves glowing to life. Suddenly, he was shocked. He could see the faint shining of rays of light streaming out of his fingertips through his eyelids, and opened his eyes to find they were very much visible. He heard Professor Lang drop his teacup.

"Eek!" to his right, Ken's bean seemed to have activated. Quickly afterwards, two more 'Eek!'s were heard, and Scorpius and Luca both opened their eyes too. The three of them ogled Albus' rays, which were still pulsating gently. He tried to give them the same glare Lang had given him, and it seemed to work, for they went back to focus on their beans. Albus smiled slightly, before looking back at his own.

The waves of light were pulsing gently, and travelling slowly.

Like a set of waves. They collide, and expand!

As he thought it, he noticed the lines getting thicker. There was a notable section at the back, which passed through like a large impala which had been swallowed by a python.

"Five more minutes!"

Albus spent the next few focusing on his bean. He could hear the 'Eeks' punctuating the air now.

"Time up!" Albus felt his shoulders sag, and looked at his friends. They looked exhausted. Albus felt tired, but not that tired.

"Right, time to measure the units! I will tally the total units for each House. When that is done I will divide the answer by ten and give the resulting amount as House points!"

Both sets of students perked their ears at that. "I will call you up to be measured with the meter!" he said, brandishing a yellow device.

"Malcolm Bourghess." the latter looked like he had tried to swallow a lemon. He presented a pitiful looking bean.

"2 units." Professor Lang looked at him with dead eyes, as if seriously unimpressed, but said nothing. "Daniel Agarth."

"7 units."

"Amanda Gosham: 14 units." The girl beamed, seeming happy to get double digits.

"Alice Longbottom: 19 units."

"Myra Fitzgerald: 11 units." the good-looking Gryffindor shrugged like she didn't care. Albus could not help but feel something nasty there, though. It was as if the link between her eyes and the rest of her body had been severed; despite her relaxed posture, Albus thought he saw something far less nice in her gaze. She turned suddenly, and they caught each other's eyes, before she grinned at him. The smile did not reach her eyes at all. It was as if it had been snuffed out halfway on its journey there.

"Terrence Garland: 28 units." The boy puffed out his chest, but wisely didn't say anything, only walking back to his desk looking smug.

"Rose Granger-Weasley, 39 units. Best yet!" Rose grinned at her Housemates, before catching Albus' eye. Her smile dropped.

"Right, Slytherins! Cassandra Symonds!"

Albus watched Cassie walk up, trying to forget the sinking feeling now in his chest.

"25 units!" Cassie smiled, seeming fairly pleased.

"Charles Garrett: 13 units."

"Corman Reddick: 9 units."

"Scorpius Malfoy!"

Scorpius walked up to the desk, looking very… nervous? Professor Lang waved his meter, before looking up at him across the corner of his eye with his eyebrow raised.

"Well, isn't that surprising…"

"-67 UNITS!" The Slytherins roared in shock and Ken clapped his back painfully.

"Luca Miniati!"

Luca walked up now. "64 UNITS!" The Slytherins roared once more, and Luca smiled excitedly. The Gryffindors were becoming slowly more sullen and dejected. Rose was glaring painfully at them.

"Kenichi Handa!"

"70 UNITS!" This time, Scorpius and Luca went with a double slap as if to gain revenge, but were quite miffed when they seemed to hit hard muscle. It didn't matter, though. The three Slytherins had equalled the whole of Gryffindor alone.

"ALBUS POTTER!"

Albus felt his mouth run dry. He grasped the bean between his fingers, feeling it's soft and rubbery skin. Abruptly, he remembered that he had no need to fear…

Did he?

When Albus presented his Measuring Bean Professor Lang seemed to do a double take. It was certainly quite large, and Albus had imbued it with a lot of 'waves' over the time they had taken to do the practical task. Slowly, Professor Lang switched on the meter and peered at Albus. There was a beep, and the reading was done.

Professor Lang's eyes bulged. He dropped the meter in shock, before stopping its fall with swift wandless magic. He was still boring into Albus' eyes, and seemed to be lost for words for a second. Albus was worried that something had gone wrong. The class shifted testily as they waited for the result.

"Albus Potter… 173 UNITS!"

"WHAT?!"

The class was in utter uproar. Some students were looking at Albus with their mouths agape, and some (mainly Slytherins) were belting their approval. Scorpius' mouth was so wide Albus could probably fit his whole fist into it. Luca and Ken recovered from their shock faster, and began clapping.

"Well that... is certainly... a surprise." said Professor Lang. "Right, Potter, stay behind after the class finishes. Miniati, Malfoy, Handa, you stay too. The class point tallies are as follows: 18 points for Gryffindor, and 65 for Slytherin!"

The Gryffindors snarled back, and Rose glared at Albus. "Cheating, cousin?"

"W-wha-" Albus stammered.

"Of course, you're just a good sneaky Slytherin. I should have known you would be evil like the rest of them, but I never thought you would stoop so low!"

Albus' eyes narrowed. "Excuse me? No one cheated, Rose! I don't know how I got so many units- it just happened!"

"As if that could 'just happen'." sneered Rose.

"It very much did 'just happen', believe it or not!"

"Cut the rubbish, Albus. Your friends cheated with you too?"

"We did no such thing! Just because we beat you!"

The bell ended the conversation abruptly. Albus was still fuming. He could not believe his cousin could be so horrible.

"Right, class, begone now. I have things to take care of. The four I requested to stay, it won't be long at all."

With that, the students were ushered out. Albus felt his face feeling a bit hot when Cassie waved at him, but he dismissed it as excitement from the lesson. Professor Lang stood impassively, waiting until the door shut behind the last student.

"Right, you four. You are all 11-12 years old, right?"

"Yes, we are." said Scorpius.

"Your potential is through the roof. All of you."

"But sir, only Albus is that high."

Professor Lang smiled. "Don't worry, Mr Malfoy. You can all be that high- and quite soon too. I must be gone now, but I want you four to really really understand something. These units are meaningless, really. Mr Potter's units are higher than a fifth year's"

"-As in, they're only a measure of current potential? And this can change quickly?"

Professor Lang nodded. "Well done Mr Potter. Wandless magic is excessively difficult to control, and requires a lot more than just potential. Emotional, mental, physical training… all areas where some of you four are better than others of you four, and where you youngsters are terrible in general. I will explain in further detail if you want to meet and talk about it."

The four of them looked at each other excitedly, and turned back. "Do you mean sir- do you mean we can learn more with you?"

"So like private tuition?"

Professor Lang looked at them blankly, before a smirk broke out on his face. "If you impress me enough, that is indeed what I mean."

The friends high-fived each other and grinned.

"I will expect you here at the end of the week, on Saturday. It is a good idea to not mention it to anybody. I'm not supposed to have favourites, see."

Albus laughed. "Thank you sir!"

"Don't thank me yet, Potter. Try the gruelling training first."

The friends left their lessons in high spirits, chattering excitably about what they had just been invited to. They soon arrived at dinner, where it seemed the whole school turned their heads to look at them.

"Err… what did we do?" asked Scorpius.

"-Look at that, Malfoy." answered Marcellus, gesturing to the House hourglasses. Albus noticed other people pointing in that direction, before turning to point at himself and his three best friends. One thing was very clear:

Slytherin was winning by far.

"Naturally, as Trads and Progressives start brawling again we will end up losing enough points to take us to dead last once more, but this still is the first time in four years that Slytherin have been leading the House cup."

Albus suddenly realised why everyone was talking about them, and jokingly nudged Luca and Scorpius in the shoulder. "Oh yes… it's because of these two."

Marcellus had the hints of a smile in his eyes. "Well, regardless of who it is, they say the Slytherin First Years have been on an imperious march to round up every House point in existence. Add this to the fact that some Gryffindor First Year called Garland got 50 points taken from Gryffindor by Professor Lang, and it's been an excellent start for the Snakes, really. Keep going and we Progressives might be able to run back the Battle of Hogwarts without ending on negative points."

The four of them laughed, surprised to see this humorous side of Marcellus. Albus could see the pride in his eyes, and felt warmth swelling in his chest.

"Hey Potter, people have been saying that you got 173 units in Professor Lang's test! I'm a Fifth Year and I only got 114!" said another Slytherin who Albus did not recognise.

"-Pharell Davison, nice to meet you."

As it turned out, many people came to ask the four first years about their wandless magic scores. Albus was surprised to find that they were in great favour after winning so many points and performing so stunningly against the Gryffindors in the strangest lesson of the school. He found that the older Slytherins tended to be quite sociable, but with an air of confidence which he found rather foreign. They were altogether quite nice to the first years, though; Albus had many a discussion about Slytherin values: perhaps one too many.

"No, we don't need personal escorts." he heard Scorpius saying from next to him.

"Alright, alright, don't overwhelm them. There is much more to being a successful Slytherin than one can achieve overnight, after all." interrupted Marcellus. The other Slytherins nodded and returned to their seats. Albus watched them recede, and caught the eye of Professor Sevorian at the High Table. The man's circle beard shifted upwards in a smile and he nodded at them gruffly. Albus felt himself instinctively nod back, before the eye contact was broken.

"Right, it's time to go back to dormitories. First Years, if you want to send anything to your parents, go to the Owlery. It's pretty easy to find."

With that, Albus was jolted into action. He had totally forgotten to send a letter back home!

"Uhh, catch you guys later!"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Sure, see you later."

Albus nodded and promptly ran out of the Hall towards the West Tower, at the top of which he knew the Owlery stood. He entered in, and was not entirely surprised to find it empty, given that he had left dinner so quickly. The bones of rats and voles covering the floor were ignored as he scrambled to a place where he could pull his parchment out and write a quick letter.

There are those moments where we rush to start a message, expecting that the message will conclude itself just as hastily. We are often disappointed, just like Albus was then unable to think of what to write even though his breath was still sharp from the hurried sprint he had just done.

How would he start it? "Hey dad, I just got into the House which murdered your parents. Oh, and yeah, I had the choice too, just like you said!"

He had all but lost hope at that point, so he dropped his quill and sat in the least uncomfortable corner he could find, with his arms around his knees in a small ball. The sight of Hogwarts was breathtaking. The aerial vantage point allowed him to see a wide swathe of woodland he could never have seen from ground level. The wind smarted the blades of grass, and to Albus it looked like a giant uniform wave of undulating greenery.

He thought about his Wandless Magic lesson, which ultimately had been a great success. Despite this fact, he found it hard to be satisfied, as he felt there was more to seek which he had barely scratched the surface of. Professor Lang seemed very harsh, but at least he smiled from time to time.

He thought about how the different Houses treated his own, Slytherin. While there had been one or two exceptions, Ravenclaw seemed to get on very well with them. It was hardly surprising, owing to the fact that Slytherin seemed admittedly very good academically so far, but he was glad for their presence and that they disregarded the stereotypes. Hufflepuff, however, seemed right at the other end of that spectrum: cowering in fear because of their House colours.

Of course, that left Gryffindor. Albus wondered how differently they would have treated them if he had landed where he was supposed to. He didn't miss the looks of disgust and disdain. It must be unbelievable, he thought, to idolise one man so much, and- and, to see his own son betray him.

"Want is a strong word, but if they wanted it, I would definitely be happy indeed to see how that would turn out."

"Hasn't it crossed your mind that Dad was just saying that to please the Hat? Or even that the memory never actually happened, and it was a trick? I never realised you were so gullible and stupid, Al!"

There was only one thing he would always do, when he was alone yet unhappy.

Poetry.

It had started when he had been at Diagon Alley and heard some nasty men saying terrible things about his father, saying that Harry Potter had let other people die for him. He would only learn much later that they were former Death Eaters. He had been so upset the moment he came home that he ran straight upstairs and locked himself in with a book, a collection of poetry he had gotten from Aunt Hermione.

While his dad and mum had to deal with a crazy James and Lily (neither of whom had heard anything), he had pulled out one of his kid-sized quills and started writing, scribbling away. Albus fingered the corner of the parchment as he remembered fondly his first poem, written at the age of six, about his dad, who those men had insulted.

"Hero".

He had never looked back past that point, churning out childish works nearly as prolifically as a professional writer might, usually when he was upset. He never let material thoughts affect his writing, especially the most turbulent ones, and his characters rarely had names.

There was a brief flicker of light outside the window, and he saw a solitary lamp sailing across Hogwarts lake. He did not know who it was, but remembered his trip a few days earlier across the same waters, and his quill began to get to work on the paper.

THE FRINGES

Proud thief, sailing in the night

Through the nascent sea ashes, sinking

Trying to ignite all the extinguished stars

And forgive the probing witness trees

Like a brief trance that cannot be replicated

A hollow ceremony is being held

So that the roar imprisoned in the body reverberates

Blazing the remnants of the earth again

A million disconnected threads weave his song

But the pitches are guesswork

Trying to ignite all the extinguished stars

And forgive the probing witness trees

So he traveled through the shadows

-Luminescent moon-

Blind like a bird, passing like lightning

Finally forgotten.

He pulled back, satisfied. Some lines had been painstaking, but he quite liked the way his poem had been written, even though he knew it was quite abstract. He seldom failed to burn his poems as soon as he recovered from sadness, but he knew somehow he would keep this one. Perhaps it was because this sadness would take far longer to heal than he might have expected.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I have arrived at Hogwarts, and am mostly well. Sorry for the delay, I was too tired to write before and never found the time. I hope you are well and that Lily is having fun.

I got sorted into Slytherin. I bet no one saw that coming? I don't think they are all that bad… in fact, I have three friends: Luca Miniati, Kenichi Handa- and Scorpius Malfoy too. But I'm sorry, I really am! I know we are supposed to be in Gryffindor, but I thought…

-Anyway, I love you, and hope you won't think I am evil. I will do my best to make sure you are not too disappointed in me.

Best,

Albus

With that, he retired to bed, brushed off the questions about his lateness, and neatly stashed away The Fringes into his secret, unseen, collection.

I really liked my poem, actually! It went very well, and I was as pleased as Albus was with it.

Reviews or any other types of feedback are so useful, so please pop one if you have the time and found this not too boring...