The Houses Competition: Year 9, Round 6

House: Gryffindor

Class: History of Magic

Category: Themed

Theme: Discovery: the act of finding something that had not been known before; learning something new.

Prompt: Character: Albus Severus Potter

Word Count: 1425

Disclaimers: Possible minor canon divergence from Harry Potter and The Cursed Child, in that this piece posits a romantic relationship between Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy, whose relationship is presented as platonic but arguably queer-coded within the source material. Italicized text taken from the playscript of Harry Potter and The Cursed Child (written by John Tiffany and Jack Thorne, based on an original story by J.K Rowling)

Beta'd by: Many many thanks to Gryffindor team and special guest star, Megaflash

Albus Severus Potter typically looked forward to his bimonthly visits with the Hogwarts Herbology professor—his godfather, Neville Longbottom. Albus had approached this one with a nervous idea for a hard conversation. Once actually in the greenhouse, though, his courage failed him, and he became remarkably interested in one plant in particular.

He looked up to see Neville watching him with concern. "You've already plucked the Chizpurfles from those leaves. Twice, in fact." Albus ignored him and bent down again, fingers pinched for a third time; that might have been why Neville didn't leave him in peace.

"Albus, is there…something on your mind? Something you'd like me to know, maybe?"

He turned to his godfather before reason could take over.

"Scorpius isn't with Rose anymore."

Neville nodded, the look on his face warm but confused. "And…you're worried about how to support your friend? You're feeling stuck between your friend and your cousin?"

"No. No, that's not it."

"What, then?"

Albus said the next words more quietly. "He's…well, he's with me."

"Oh." Not knowing, exactly, what expression he expected made it impossible to recognize the expression that Neville really wore.

Albus returned his gaze to the plant. "You didn't suspect that, did you?" Too nervous to wait for his grandfather to speak, Albus continued, cutting off any response that Neville might have made. "I fancy boys. I fancy girls. And right now, I fancy Scorpius."

"Fancy" wasn't the right word, Albus knew. There probably wasn't one word for it, though. Saying any more of those words—to his professors, to his parents—seemed like a risky idea to Albus. Which was rich, really, given that he had personally fractured the space-time continuum a number of times before this conversation and had, in fact, briefly caused the death of the man now looking so fixedly at him.

He finished, masking his fear with a challenge in his voice. Beating his godfather to the punch, he supposed. "Bet you think there's something wrong with it. Now that you found out."

Hurt joined confusion on Neville's gentle face. "My gran might have. I don't." He looked Albus in the eye. "You know she raised me. She…she had a lot of opinions. About who a lot of different people ought to be, really. And I can't deny it, having a gay godson isn't something she prepared me for."

"Bi godson. I think. But I don't have it all sorted yet."

Neville looked at him, his mouth closed and head tilted, inviting him to say more. Albus schooled his posture and expressions almost aggressively to indicate that he wouldn't, lifting his chin and opening both palms in a gesture of impatience for Neville to speak next.

"Right. Okay, then. I don't have it sorted, either—that's what I'm saying, Albus. My gran raised me in a different time. Back then, it probably didn't matter who you fancied. It mattered that you married the right sort and popped out male heirs, and nothing else was important if no one found out. My gran believed in doing what the people around you expected you to do, and yeah, I admit, that's not quite what I expected."

He seemed then to take a breath on purpose to set up for a conclusion. "So….there's a lot of things she believed that I figured out are rubbish, and that probably means some of what I think is rubbish, too. But what actually matters is…I don't think there's something wrong with it. Not when I get past what she told me and think for myself."

Albus thought about what he'd just heard. "Some day, you'll have to teach me how to do that. How to get past what you've been told and just think for yourself. My parents..." he paused and amended it. "My dad…." He left the statement trailing on the ground that he stared at: his godfather waited and then picked it up.

"What has Harry actually said to you?"

The question of what his father said to him raised the question of what he had said to his father, in turn. Albus found himself sent back in time in multiple directions, a feeling about which he really wished he knew less.

Just cast a spell, Dad, and change me into what you want me to be, okay?

I just wish you weren't my dad.

Well, there are times I wish you weren't my son.

I'm sorry, Albus, but it has to be this way.

But they'd mended things, hadn't they? Albus shivered and closed his eyes again, calling on different memories as though he planned to use them, would drive off the Dementors he'd once made his dad explain.

There's plenty you're good at, Albus.

I'm going to try to be a better dad for you, Albus.

I think it's going to be a nice day.

The question echoed in his head. What has Harry actually said to you?

At that point, he decided that his godfather's question was, in its current form, too big to answer. "What he's said to me about what?"

"About you and…Mr. Malfoy."

"You're in godfather mode, not Professor mode, right now. This surname stuff is weird, Neville."

"About you and Scorpius. About…all of that."

"We've...gone back and forth about me being friends with Scorpius." Understatement, Albus realized, of the time-travel centuries. He re-heard a somewhat ordinary conversation on an ordinary train platform, then immediately remembered less ordinary threats in a less ordinary infirmary.

"About the other thing…the bi thing...we haven't talked at all." The realization made him chuckle as he said it. "I think he'll be angrier about the fact that it's a Malfoy than the fact that it's a boy."

Neville smiled. "Safe assumption, really."

His face became serious. "But what matters is, it's Harry. It's your dad, and it's Harry. He'll do anything, anything, for the people he loves. Even kick his own arse to get out of your way."

Albus regarded him with mock horror, an expression on his face that he'd borrowed from Rose. "Language, Professor."

"Speaking purely as your godfather right now, remember."

"Right."

Neville's brow furrowed. "But let me be dead serious…Albus, you can tell him. Him and your mum, and anyone you like, really."

"I don't like to. I'm scared to. And Scorpius isn't telling, either. Makes sense, when you think about it."

Albus held up his green scarf like a battle flag, advancing and surrendering in one flick of his wrist. "We're not Gryffindors, remember. 'Where dwell the brave at heart.'"

Neville touched Albus' shoulder as he put his scarf down. "Listen to me. The thing about the Houses isn't as simple as they say it is. And…it seems to me like the both of you are plenty brave for now." Neville took a breath and seemed to be choosing his words carefully, delivering a lecture despite 'Godfather Mode.'

"The bravest thing any of us can do is live the life that's really ours. And you don't do that once. You don't do it just by saying things. You don't do it by following some kind of fixed timetable for knowing who you are. You do it by really being open to discovery; you stay constantly open to finding out about yourself, and then you just keep moving from there."

He paused. "Are the two of you kind to one another? Do you respect one another? Are you more or less as honest with each other as you can be with yourselves, right now?"

Albus reflected. He remembered all of the times he and Scorpius had spoken to each other with great feeling of their friendship over the years and how long they'd both said (pretended) that it was just friendship. How much and how urgently they had clung to one another, and how many times and in how many universes they'd fought beside and for each other. Against their parents, Dark wizards, one another…and themselves.

He answered his godfather. "I think we're more honest now than we used to be."

"Brave enough to be getting on with, then, if you ask me. Neither of you are done yet. You're off to a good start." He paused. "It's midway through your fifth year, Albus. I remember being exactly how old you are right now."

His godfather spoke once more before pulling him into a tight hug; Neville smelled a bit like Stinksap but Albus found he didn't mind. "You both have loads of time to be who you're meant to be. And I'm excited to keep discovering more of who that is."