A/N: Another one for you!
Albus stared around to find that most of the faces seemed friendly, and felt somewhat relieved, although every muscle in his body was still thrumming with tension. The boys were First Years like himself and it was comforting to see that they were glancing around nervously as he was.
The boy who'd called out to him smiled. It was only then that Albus looked at him properly and grasped the alarming likeness. He took a sharp inward-breath as he took the boy in, gaping at the familiar, untidy black hair which was short in the same, rather unfashionable style, the same thin face and the almost identical round spectacles.
"Lightning!" he exclaimed, wondering how on earth Lightning was able to be seen by the other boys and whether he'd been secretly as substantial as himself the whole time.
The other boy frowned in puzzlement.
"What?" he said, and Albus realised that the eyes behind the spectacles were brown, not green and that there was no jagged scar on the pale forehead. Albus narrowed his eyes and gazed in disbelief - but for those details, this boy was exactly like Lightning.
"I apologise," he said quickly, fearing that he'd already made a mess of the valuable first impression and that these new boys now thought him rather strange. "You look like someone I know."
"Oh," said the boy, beaming once more. "Well - anyway - my name is Frederick Potter and you..?"
"Albus Dumbledore," said Albus hastily, shaking Frederick's hand and looking nervously around at the other boys.
There was a freckle-faced red-head, who was almost as tall as Albus, although his hair was a good deal shorter and tamer. He introduced himself as being Liberius Weasley and seemed so irrepressibly cheerful in the company of boys whom he could not have know for more than a few minutes that Albus couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. Liberius was naturally at ease with others; Albus was not.
After Liberius, a small thin boy with long wispy blond hair and overly large eyes introduced himself as Neptune Lovegood. His voice was very whispery and his face was somewhat dreamy but Albus couldn't help but like him instinctively.
Then there was the round-faced, stammering William Longbottom, who squeezed Albus's hand so tightly when he shook it (presumably out of anxiety) that Albus's circulation was nearly cut off - and the serious-faced, almost studious-looking Matthias Moody, who did not smile when Albus shook his hand.
"First Year as well?" Liberius said and Albus nodded.
"Oh - do you know how we're sorted into the Houses?" asked Frederick, evidently continuing a discussion that had been going before Albus's arrival. "There seems to be quite some mystery about it."
"No, I don't," replied Albus, shaking his head. "I thought perhaps one of you would."
"This idiot," said Frederick, nudging William gently, "thinks we'll have to fight a dragon or something."
"They wouldn't make First Years do that, would they?" said Albus desperately, consciously knowing that it was a silly idea but sincerely hoping that it would be nothing as awful.
"Don't be a fool," said Matthias gruffly. "It'll be something simple; something we can all do."
"By Merlin," said Frederick, his voice betraying his worry, "I hope so. I only got my wand yesterday but I know I'm going to be hopeless at everything."
Frederick seemed to have voiced Albus's own fears and, from the expressions on all the surrounding faces, his words seemed to have struck a chord in the others too. William looked even more nervous.
"N-Nobody shall b-be as hopeless as I," he stammered sadly. "I can't even fly a b-broom straight."
"Hang on," exclaimed Liberius suddenly. "Your name's Longbottom. Wasn't your father Keeper for Puddlemere United until recently?"
William nodded and Frederick let out a long, low whistle. The others all looked impressed. Albus wished he'd been more interested in Quidditch; he had nothing to say on the matter.
"I say," admitted Matthias quietly. "Your father is rather splendid on a broom."
"Oh, I know he is," said William miserably. "Makes it look a whole sight worse when you see how terribly I fly."
"I haven't even been on a broom!" said Liberius enviously. "My father's a Healer and he goes on about how dangerous it is-"
"What's your father?" Matthias asked Albus but before he could answer, Neptune broke in dreamily.
"I would never get on a broom," he said vaguely. "Because of the Bowtruckle Conspiracy."
There was a silence. Albus felt his brow crease in confusion: he remembered what Bowtruckles were from his books and he didn't see how they could possibly form a conspiracy. Liberius's lips were twitching, Matthias's eyes had rolled heavenward, William looked even more nervous and Fredrick seemed completely at sea.
"But Bowtruckles…" said Albus tentatively. "Aren't they tree-guardians? How-"
"They're angry because of all the wand wood that's been taken from them," Neptune whispered. "They've disguised themselves as brooms but one day, they'll attack and eat their riders alive."
There was another silence, more disbelieving in tone, in which everyone unanimously decided to ignore this. Matthias repeated his question to Albus.
"He's Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Albus.
Matthias's eyebrows shot upwards and, for a moment, his frizzy brown hair seemed to bush outwards. William looked impressed, Liberius frowned vaguely as though trying to remember something, Neptune hummed 'Silent Night' under his breath and Frederick's eyes widened.
"Ah - yes - hasn't he made statements in the paper and that sort of thing?" asked Liberius, still frowning. "Well, the dosh must be rolling in for you, then."
"Um-" said Albus, unsure as to how to respond to this.
"But you don't look like one of those-" began Frederick but he was interrupted and, later on, Albus wondered what he'd been about to say.
Another boy had rushed into the compartment, slamming the door behind him, looking somewhat dishevelled and with a large bruise forming on his cheek. He was thin with moderately light brown hair and wearing what were obviously second-hand robes.
Albus's heart gave a thump of recognition. A dim memory of a boy rose up in his mind. He looked up as the boy turned around and they gazed into each other's eyes for a minute.
The boy's eyebrows came together. "Have I seen you before?" he asked Albus. "Your face seems familiar to me."
"I think we used to play together," said Albus slowly. "Would, by any chance, your name be Samuel Lupin?"
The boy nodded vigorously. "Yes, it is. Is your name Albus Dumbledore?"
Albus nodded too and the pair smiled at each other, memories drifting in the air between them. Then Samuel spotted the other boys and his face fell. He looked down and shuffled his feet.
"It's all right," he said to Albus's new acquaintances, who were eyeing him with curiosity. "I'll be going. It's all right; I know." His look and tone said that it was anything but all right.
"What's the matter?" asked Frederick, looking quite sorry for the battered Samuel.
Samuel shuffled some more, shame seeming to emanate outwards from him. "It's all right," he repeated. "G-Gaunt made it clear to me."
"Made what clear?" barked Matthias.
"Who's Gaunt?" enquired Liberius.
"One of the Prefects," said Neptune airily. "He wasn't too pleasant to me."
"It's all right," said Samuel again, gruffly. "I'm a… a filthy mudblood." His voice broke. "I won't - I'll go."
He turned to leave but three voices immediately vied with each other in outburst. Ignoring William's horrified look and Liberius's raised eyebrows, Albus grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.
"Father beat me for playing with you," he said fiercely, surprised by how strongly he felt about it all. "But I don't care!"
"Hear, hear!" said Matthias loudly. "Anybody who follows mad ideas like that is an idiot."
"If I'm a mudblood," said Neptune quietly, "then I'm the muddiest of the lot. I'm Muggle-born and Gaunt was beastly to me too."
"I say you should not listen to this Gaunt," Frederick offered. "I think 'mudblood' is a horrible word."
"My only concern about blood," Albus assured Samuel, who was smiling now and looking extremely relieved, "is that it stays inside of me and doesn't spill out all over the place." With that, Albus finally decided that he sincerely did not care about blood at all - Samuel seemed a good sort, as did Neptune (even if he was a little odd) and so Father had been wrong about all mudbloods being evil: the proof of his error was right in front of him. As for Father himself, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.
Samuel grinned more widely, but out of the corner of his eyes, Albus caught Matthias looking at him with an expression of deep suspicion. He had no time to ponder this, however, as William gave an audible gulp and Liberius was casting a wary look at Neptune.
"You're… Muggle-born?" he repeated to Neptune, in an odd voice. Albus whipped his head around, Frederick and Matthias looked from Neptune to Liberius and back again and Samuel's grin faded.
"Yes," said Neptune just as dreamily as ever, but his expression was a little less dreamy than it had been; the vague smile slightly fixed.
"That's not allowed," said Liberius slowly. "You can't - Muggle-borns aren't allowed."
The repetition and Liberius's expression made Albus uneasy. He glanced to his right to see Frederick looking indignant, and the sight steadied him. He looked back at Liberius.
"No," agreed Neptune. "My father lied and said he was a wizard, so I could get in." He paused. "Are you going to tell someone?"
Liberius shrugged and then shook his head, fidgeting in his seat. All eyes were on him now and all traces of envy that Albus had felt of him vanished.
"I - don't like - mudbloods," said Liberius in a tight voice. Samuel took a step backwards, Neptune gazed at Liberius with an oddly dispassionate expression and Matthias's face hardened.
"So you hate them too," he stated softly and Albus felt his heart sink in disappointment. He had liked Liberius for his smiling face but if Liberius hated Samuel then friendship was out of the question…
"No!" Liberius burst out, as Matthias looked more and more contemptuous. "I don't - I don't hate them! I just - I don't know…" His voice grew quieter. "I'm just - just nervous of them, I suppose," he ended pathetically.
"'Nervous?' What is there to be nervous of?" demanded Matthias, his eyes glittering. "They're not poisonous beasts."
"They're just like us," said Albus firmly but, to his surprise, Samuel's face twitched.
"'They're just like us,'" he repeated sadly. "'Us.' Them. Us and them. The same but different. You - and me."
For a moment, Albus didn't understand, but then he realised what he'd implied. He felt an icy shaft of horror go through him at Samuel's face and he opened his mouth to try and mend things when again the compartment door swung open to reveal three more boys, two of whom were very large.
It had been three years, but Albus recognised them immediately. Septimus Malfoy, white blond hair as impeccable and robes as impressive as ever, stood in the doorway flanked by Magnus Bulstrode and Fitzwilliam Crabbe. Just as he'd been when Albus had last seen him, he was clutching a silver-topped cane. Albus thought he looked rather stupid with it, as nobody else had one and it served no purpose. Bulstrode was as large as ever and Crabbe still wore the same look of perpetual bewilderment.
Septimus's eyes locked with Albus's and once again, a memory surfaced in Albus's mind - a rather less pleasant one. Septimus seemed unaware of this and he strode forward, smiling, hand extended.
"Cousin Dumbledore," he drawled. "How very good to see you again. And Bulstrode and Crabbe are here too - what a nice little reunion."
Again, Albus saw Matthias's face settle into a look of suspicion, directed at himself before the boy turned and looked at Malfoy, face hardening into pure contempt, mingled with the same suspicion. Albus was just about to ignore this and reluctantly shake Malfoy's hand out of sheer courtesy when Malfoy's eyes went past him onto Samuel.
"Great Merlin, Dumbledore!" spat Malfoy in disgust. "What are you doing gallivanting with the likes of that mudblood scum Lupin! I would have thought a cousin of mine had better taste!"
Matthias scowled and Samuel's face twitched again and he shrank away from Malfoy - and, suddenly, Albus felt extremely angry. He snatched his hand away from Malfoy's just as it was about to close on his.
"I would rather you did not insult my friends," he said coldly.
Malfoy's eyes widened in outrage, whilst Samuel shot Albus a grateful look. Matthias frowned, eyes narrowed and Liberius looked very awkward. William stared from Malfoy back to Albus seemingly terrified, Neptune smiled faintly and Frederick glared at Malfoy.
"'Friend?'" repeated Malfoy, apparently shocked out of decorum. "You call this - muck - your friend?" He gazed at Samuel in revulsion. "Dumbledore, you are a dolt to-"
"Go hang yourself, Malfoy," snapped Frederick, evidently seeming to know Septimus as well. "Nobody wanted your opinion."
Malfoy cast a look at him. "Oh, you - you're the sot I met in Diagon Alley, aren't you? You're a disgrace, Potter. And so are all the other purebloods here who choose to spend time with dirty little Lupin."
Liberius shivered but Albus ignored him. Matthias shot the former a cold look and William shook like a leaf.
"You should go," said Albus softly, his voice coming out remarkably calmly, although, in truth, he was afraid of how this confrontation might end. "Someone - probably me - will shove that cane of yours somewhere where it'll hurt if you don't."
Malfoy took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, as though trying to control himself. Then he opened his eyes and spoke in tones that were forced just above freezing point.
"I will forgive you that, cousin," he said stiffly. "For blood is thicker than water. One last chance - come with me and we can forget this whole sorry affair."
"If I should have an affair, Malfoy, it would certainly not be with you."
Frederick let out a snort of laughter. Malfoy practically snarled at him.
"Still got that imaginary phoenix, Dumbledore?" he taunted with some success - Albus's cheeks burned. "I can say, with full confidence, that I've never had to make anything up in some pathetic attempt to impress others."
"What's the cane for, then?" Matthias growled loudly.
"You nitwit!" snarled Malfoy. "The cane exists."
"Alas," said Albus, more to himself than to anyone else. "It is a sour fact that Malfoy exists - nevertheless, I shall attempt to dream him out of existence."
Frederick burst out laughing, as did Samuel. William looked shocked by Albus's boldness and Matthias seemed to be struggling with his face, apparently suppressing a smile. Even Liberius, although his face still displayed some awkwardness, seemed amused. Malfoy was livid.
"You'll regret this," he spat, as he turned to leave, his two bodyguards mindlessly following him.
"Actually, I don't think I will," said Albus quite honestly.
Malfoy left and Frederick slapped Albus on the back.
"Albus, you are a brick!" he exclaimed. "That was splendid. Oh, here comes the witch with the trolley!"
The boys brought sweets off the trolley, all issues about blood forgotten in the light of sugar. As Liberius queued up beside the others, he gave Samuel a tentative suggestion of a smile. Samuel looked uncertainly at him and Albus, watching, understood: Liberius was trying to see things from a different point of view. It was an encouraging sign and Albus allowed himself to become dazed at the sight of so much confectionary. He bought such a large amount to satisfy his sweet tooth that William claimed he would be sick. Samuel shuffled his feet and said that he couldn't afford any, with the result that both Frederick and Albus insisted on pitching in for him, so he ended up with altogether more sweets than he could eat.
Eventually the time came to change, which they all did in silence, having remembered their previous trepidations. The train finally ground to a halt and the boys stepped outside into a dark, cold night.
A/N: Next, the Sorting!