A/N: Reviewers! W00t!

Maggie - Thanks, first reviewer! Though… I hope you know that that wasn't Aberforth… He'll arrive later on.

AnnaK - awww, thanks! I feel super encouraged now!

These people deserve medals, they really do.

The living room was the most important room in the house and seemed to have been designed specifically to impress. Not only was the room vast (to Albus, at least) with a high ceiling that curved to an apex right above the middle of the room, but the pictures and tapestries in here were even more eye-catching and beautiful than the rest. There was an oil painting of a woman in dress robes, who sat primly in an armchair with an austere expression on her face, another painting depicting a group of wizards at a dining table, which was not as impressive as it was intended to be due to the fact that the wizards kept on getting drunk and staggering through the rest of the house's paintings singing bawdy songs and a tapestry showing a unicorn standing above a lake with a swan on it. The furniture was a rich mahogany that made Albus feel as though he shouldn't even be going near it and there was a large wolf-skin rug, the fangs of which frightened him. Above the mantelpiece there was a model of the family coat of arms; a pair of falcons united around a shield bearing the legend "fide et sapientia," (1) the meaning of which was lost on Albus. When looking at the fireplace, words such as 'formidable,' 'stately' and 'unnecessary' would come into a visitor's mind. All in all, the room was not one for being casual in.

Albus, therefore, always felt that entering the living room was a forbidden exercise, although neither Mother nor Father had ever told him such. The only reason he had crept nervously in was because he'd lost Nurse, who had a habit of wandering off and then claiming that it was he who had done so. He had not expected Nurse to be there; indeed, the room was silent except for the sound of flames crackling and the wizards laughing over some wine.

He turned to leave when the fire suddenly caught his attention - it had suddenly turned green. He stared at the emerald flames in fascination - and then, to his surprise, a middle-aged man with short grey-brown hair tumbled out the fireplace.

The man stumbled, coughed and then tripped over a lamp to catch his balance just before he trod on Albus. He was clutching a silver-topped cane in one hand and a briefcase in the other and was wearing black robes with silver fastenings. His face was rather grey and haggard and he cursed under his breath until he saw Albus.

Having no idea as to whether the man was meant to be there or not, Albus was silent and stared blankly at him. The man scowled and tapped his cane on the floor. Albus noticed that one of his boots was crushing the wolf's head and was about to say so when the man spoke.

"Well then, haven't you a tongue or any manners, young man?"

"Uh - hello," said Albus, uncertainly.

The man frowned at him before tapping his cane again. "I am Professor Wood and I will be teaching you over the next few months. You will address me as Professor and you will not talk whilst I am talking. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor," replied Albus, feeling confused and nervous.

"Good," snapped Professor Wood. "Show me into your nursery and we will begin there."

Albus nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, before leading Professor Wood out of the living room and along the hallway to the nursery. Most of Albus's favourite toys had been moved to his bedroom and the remaining toys - the ones he didn't like so much - were stacked up against one wall. Apart from that, there was nothing in there apart from a table, two chairs and a small desk with an inkwell built into it. Their purpose was now apparent as Professor Wood gestured at him to sit at the desk whilst slamming his briefcase down on the table.

Albus shivered. He didn't like the nursery. There was something bad about it - but he couldn't think what.

Professor Wood opened his briefcase - and, for so small a briefcase, it was amazing what he managed to get out of it. He withdrew many rolls of parchment, some books, a quill and ink-pot and an armchair. He shunted the wooden chair at the table out of the way and nudged the armchair into place. He waved his cane and the ink-pot, quill and a roll of parchment floated over to the desk where Albus was sitting.

"We shall start with the alphabet," Professor Wood said shortly. He sighed and looked bored as he waved his cane and a red ribbon in the shape of the letter A appeared in mid-air. "This is the letter 'A.' It can be used as 'ah' or 'ai-'"

"Professor?" interrupted Albus.

Professor Wood scowled again. "I believe I told you to be quiet."

"But Professor - I already know the alphabet!" said Albus desperately. He did not want to have to learn the alphabet all over again.

Professor Wood looked surprised and sceptical. He raised one eyebrow. "Indeed? Recite it, then."

Albus did so and Professor Wood seemed somewhat disconcerted. He tapped his cane on the floor again; Albus wondered if he did so without realising it.

"Well, we shall see how well you read, then." He handed a book to Albus and told him to read the first story.

Albus found that the book was full of stories - but very boring, basic stories that weren't like his book about Merlin at all. The subject of the first story seemed to be a Crup and a 'big red ball.' Albus found it very easy and Professor Wood looked pleased. His tutor then went onto numbers, which Albus also found easy - except when Professor Wood asked him to count beyond the number thirty. He found addition simple as well - but didn't understand subtraction as well. Nevertheless, he managed a few simple subtraction problems near the end of the lesson and Professor Wood had stopped scowling and was now smiling.

"Well done, Master Dumbledore," he said primly, packing his things away. "Next time, we shall start counting after the number thirty and-"

Albus forgot what Professor Wood had said about not interrupting and pointed at the window. "Professor, look at that bird! What is it?"

The big golden bird on the branch outside started and glared at the auburn-haired youngster in the nursery beyond the window.

"What is it!" he squawked. "I am not an it! You are an it!"

"Master Dumbledore, I told you not to interrupt!" snapped Professor Wood, scowl back again.

"But, Professor - that bird-"

Professor Wood turned and looked - but too late; the bird had taken off and left. He frowned at Albus again, who looked back innocently.

"It flew off, Professor."

Professor Wood grunted and then said sternly, "I don't want you talking over me again, young man."

"No, Professor. I won't, Professor," apologised Albus, suitably chastened.

Professor Wood smiled, apparently satisfied. "You may go and tell your parents that you did well in our first lesson. You are quite a bright child."

Albus didn't know what 'bright' meant but the tone of Professor Wood's voice made him glow with pleasure. Mother and Father would be very happy. Once Professor Wood had gone, he went through the house searching for his parents, whom he found sitting and talking together in the drawing room. Father was smoking his cigar again; Albus wrinkled his nose and tried not to breathe the smoke in.

"Mother, Father," said Albus as he entered. "Professor Wood came, he-"

Father interrupted and Albus wondered if Professor Wood would ever tell Father to be quiet. "Really?" He turned to Mummy. "Honestly, he might have told us he'd arrived!"

Mother nodded but turned in her seat to face Albus, smiling. "How did your first lesson go?"

Albus beamed. "It was easy, Mother! Professor Wood said 'well done-''"

Mother smiled and pulled Albus into a warm hug. "Oh, that's wonderful, Albus-"

Seeing that Mother and Father kept on interrupting, Albus decided to blast on regardless of anything. "We did letters and then we did numbers and then we added them together and then we took them away and Professor Wood said that I was 'bright' but I'm not sure quite what that means-"

Mother's smile grew even broader. "Bright means that you have a sharp mind, Albus. That's brilliant, dear - I am most pleased."

Albus giggled with delight - but Father, whilst he was smiling too, did not seem as pleased as Mother.

"Deary me, Albus," he said, taking his cigar out of his mouth. "If you're not careful, life will make a scholar of you and not a real wizard."

Albus's brow wrinkled. That phrase, 'real wizard' again - but Albus had thought that he was a real wizard…

"Ulfin!" snapped Mother at Father, glaring at him. "You should be encouraging him!" She turned to Albus again. "Just ignore your father; he's being a fool - you did very well."

Albus, however, couldn't shake the idea that Father wasn't as happy as Mother. Perhaps he hadn't really done as well as Father wanted him to. He was confused about the idea of not being a 'real wizard.' Hadn't Father told him the previous night that he was one?

Albus went up to his room to play, still slightly confused. He had decided to play with his model broomsticks and had opened his bedroom door - when suddenly the idea flew out of his head.

A boy he had never seen before was sitting on his bed. The boy wore glasses - something which Albus had never seen before - over a pair of emerald green eyes and had a mop of untidy black hair. He also wore the strangest robes Albus had ever seen - it was as though he just wearing an undershirt and nothing else apart from lengths of material wrapped around his legs. Somehow, the two lengths joined together at the top where his crotch was and he didn't seem to have a cloak at all.

Albus stared at him. The boy stared back.

"Who are you?" Albus blurted, after a moment.

The unknown boy smiled at him and didn't answer the question. "You're Albus, aren't you?" He swung himself off the bed. "Come on, let's play."

"Um - okay," said Albus, deciding to just accept the fact that there was a boy there who wanted to play with him. He crouched down and opened the toy box.

The boy knelt down and grabbed one of the model broomsticks. Soon the boys were racing around the room, waving their arms over their heads. Once they tired of this, they sat down and started playing with the Gobstones - the delight of being squirted in the face with water was ageless. They were laughing and shrieking when Nurse opened the door.

She looked strangely at Albus, ignoring the other boy. "What are you up to, Chavy (2)?"

"I'm playing with my friend," he answered, thinking that it was perfectly obvious.

She gave him a funny look and then shook her head before leaving. Albus dismissed her from his mind and continued to play with his new-found friend.

A/N: Review some more, people! There will be more Fawkes soon!

(1) - Fide et sapientia - latin for faith and wisdom. I thought that was kind of appropriate.

(2) - 'Chavy' is apparently Victorian slang for 'child.' Yes, I know, I find it bizarre as well.