A/N: Thank you reviewers! Sorry for the delay; starting sixth form was a bit hectic for me. I'm afraid updates from now on may be further apart due to annoying things like homework (waaahhh!).
Greenfly - Ugh! What an awful typo, I'm sorry! I'll fix it as I upload this. Sorry for the confusion, I'm providing a list below to help people keep track. As for the no girls - well, I think at eleven years old, most genders seem to stick together. But don't worry, there WILL be some girls! How Albus go through 7 years of schooling without meeting any?
Dark Angel's Blue Fire - Thanks! Hope you're still reading.
Mthukral - Thanks! Especially for the writing skills part, as I would very much like to be a real author.
Lameth Mornefea - Thanks! And don't worry, it was meant to parallel it. Notice that Frederick and Malfoy met first in Diagon Alley - just like Harry and Draco! But I don't intend to make the whole story a parallel.
AJ Wonkette - Thanks for the review! And you WILL be seeing more of that wand...
starlitjewel - Thanks! And yes, Malfoy will eventually meet Fawkes...
TicTacTurtle - I hope so too. Albus has really only just grasped the mudblood-pureblood debate properly.
OKAY, BECAUSE THERE WAS SOME CONFUSION LAST CHAPTER, HERE IS A LIST OF VARIOUS PEOPLE:
Matthias Moody - Half-Blood...Frederick Potter - Pureblood...William Longbottom - Pureblood
Samuel Lupin - Half-Blood...Liberius Weasley - Pureblood...Neptune Lovegood - Muggleborn
ONE LAST NOTE: Something I forgot to explain earlier. As a tendency, the further you go back in the past, the stricter all rules get. In Harry's time, 'mudblood' refers to Muggleborns - in the past, I imagine they would have been more picky about it. Hence 'mudblood' also refers to Half-Bloods. Hope that clears up any confusion over Samuel's parentage.
Everything was all dark and confused, and, for a moment, Albus thought that he'd be lost forever in a sea of heaving bodies, hooting owls and confused first years. Then a gruff voice started calling out, and so gave a point of distinction in the chill night. Albus made his way towards that distant sound as best he could, in an odd parody of life.
"First years!" the gruff voice was calling. As he neared the voice's source, Albus could see that it came from a surprisingly small, weedy-looking man who seemed rather bored and irritated by the whole thing. He was holding a small lamp in which a candle flickered, which did nothing against the pitch black around him.
"Follow me!" he was crying and he moved away unexpectedly, meaning that Albus had to quicken his pace to keep up. He found himself struggling along beside Frederick, whose thin face was screwed up in determination. This sight once again made Albus think of Lightning and puzzle over how much Frederick looked like him. Perhaps Lightning - or Frederick - was playing a game with him, and had Charmed his eyes brown and somehow hidden his scar…
The first years found themselves at the edge of an enormous lake, which was, if possible, even darker than the pitch of the night. The only sign that it was indeed water and not some hole leading down to oblivion was the very slight pin-pricks of light cast upon the liquid by the stars overhead. Small, unsafe-looking boats sat on the surface.
"Four to a boat!" the gruff man commanded.
Frederick grinned at Albus and grabbed his arm, steering him towards the nearest boat. Albus gave Frederick a small, shy smile of liking as they climbed in. To Albus's surprise, Matthias made his way towards their boat very deliberately, although he frowned slightly at Albus as he got in.
Next to them, a similar boat was being rocked as William stumbled into it, being helped by Liberius and Neptune. Albus glimpsed Samuel and waved at him, but Neptune had already absent-mindedly pulled Samuel into his boat as well. Instead, an unknown girl climbed in, giving the boys a wary look, as though she'd been forced into joining them.
The boats set off automatically, skimming lightly across the lake. Albus wanted to talk to Frederick but he felt rather cowed by the way Matthias kept glancing at him suspiciously, as though expecting him to deliberately upend the boat, and Frederick seemed rather unnerved by the icy green gaze of the girl, whom alone among the first years didn't look even the tiniest bit nervous. Her green eyes were shielded by square spectacles and her long black hair was as dark as the lake below.
However, the uneasy silence between them was broken when the boats rounded a corner and they got their first look at Hogwarts. Albus's gasp was not the only one that echoed over the water - Hogwarts was a splendid sight, the vast towers and battlements lit brilliantly against the dark sky, so that - just for a second - the whole thing seemed as beautiful and strange as an optical illusion.
Frederick turned a gleeful, excited face towards Albus. Albus beamed back and the pair were momentarily united in a surge of pure anticipation. Matthias's eyes flickered and his serious face suddenly split into a smile and the girl raised her eyebrows, apparently impressed.
The small man halted the boats at some stone steps, which they ascended in a nervous rush, before entering a dim Entrance Hall and then being left in a small room of the side of this. To Albus, the journey seemed to take nothing more than a few brief seconds, taking place in flashes of movement before the scene switched.
The first years whispered and shifted their feet nervously and people seemed to naturally gravitate together in clumps. Albus, Frederick and Matthias found themselves close to William, Samuel and Liberius, whilst Neptune hummed dreamily nearby. There was a sudden shout when several ghosts materialised through the walls. Albus stared at the pale figures with interest, but he didn't have much time to look at them as a real, living person entered the room.
It was a small, frail-looking witch, with large soulful brown eyes and long flaxen hair that was inexpertly braided. The paleness of her skin was emphasised by the pitch black teacher's robes she wore. It was, however, her hat that held Albus's eyes. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. It looked like an ordinary black witch's hat that someone had thought to hang a tassel off the top of and then curl over the said tip so that it looked like the cloth representation of an ammonite.
Albus looked away slightly to see that Frederick, too, was transfixed by the hat. They were still gazing at it when the witch began to speak.
"My name is Professor McKinnon, and I am Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts as well as being Herbology teacher and Head of Hufflepuff." Her voice was low and hard to hear, and nothing she said sounded as though she was very certain of it. "At Hogwarts, you will be Sorted into four houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Each House has its own Common Room and dormitories. Good behaviour will be rewarded with House points and the bad will be punished with a deduction." Here, Albus noticed, she looked almost as nervous as the first years at the thought of punishment. "Follow me and you will be Sorted into your Houses."
The first years followed her through a small door into what could only be the Great Hall. Albus's mouth fell open. The Great Hall was massive and so brightly lit that it hurt Albus's eyes after the dark outside. The four House tables were crammed with chattering students and as he and the other First Years entered, Albus shivered as he felt the weight of many pairs of eyes pass over them. The now pale and silent first years passed around the long High Table. Albus looked distractedly up at the teachers, to find most of them dour-faced and solemn, in black, and all wearing the same strange hats as Professor McKinnon, although the wizard's hats were brimless. Albus's eyes found the Headmaster, who sat in the golden chair at the centre of the High Table. Above the hard, sharp face and resting on the grizzled, dirty-looking grey hair, sat the most bizarre hat that Albus had seen since entering the school.
Perhaps it was just a combination of nerves and excitement, but Albus had to shove his fist in his mouth to keep from collapsing into laughter as Professor Lestrange stood up and waved a hand for silence - which came immediately and was absolute. The hat that sat on top of Professor Lestrange's head was black, like the others, but stretched upwards not to a point but to a sudden square, a platform of stiff black material, from which hung no less than five tassels. Each tassel ended in a bead of a House colour, with the exception of one, which ended in a large silver star. It was such an odd sight that Albus quivered with silent giggles, until Frederick began to look at him in some alarm.
"Let the Sorting begin," said Lestrange simply, in his harsh, cracked old voice.
Albus suddenly noticed that a stool stood in front of where they all stood, on top of which sat the most battered and tattered hat imaginable. All of the first years stared at it with a good deal of bewilderment. Albus blinked and wondered if everybody at Hogwarts was obsessed with hats. Matthias eyed it warily, whilst William looked terrified.
Then the rip at the brim opened and the hat began to sing. Since none of the Professors nor any of the older students looked surprised, Albus assumed this was normal, although privately he felt that if someone had told him beforehand that the Sorting Ceremony involved a singing hat, he would have been doubtful of that person's sanity.
"Long ago when the founders four stood tall,
And Gryffindor and Slytherin were side by side,
I was put into this school
To quarter you and to decide!
Set me on your head
And I'll tell you where to sit
And find you a House
In which you will surely fit!
Perhaps you'll be in Gryffindor
With courage in your core
And daring in your heart-
Too feisty to ignore!
Or mayhap Ravenclaw your home
With knowledge as your strength
And a quick mind to hone
That's never still for any length!
Could loyal Hufflepuff be your place
With a heart that's always kind?
Slow and steady wins the race-
For caring you're designed!
Or could you be in Slytherin sly
With cunning as your friend
And on your way with ambitions high
With a will that will not bend?
So put me on and let me choose
Where you should rightfully be-
Don't be afraid, you cannot lose-
Come on now, let's see!"
Once the hat had finished, the students and most of the teachers burst into applause. Albus, however, spotted that Lestrange's hands remained quite still and that he had a look of distaste on his face as he looked at the hat. Professor McKinnon, meanwhile, began reading from a list of names. Albus's stomach clenched with shocking remembrance.
"Avery, Juliet!"
A girl with shining golden hair coiled ridiculously on top of her head pranced forward. Albus dimly remembered her and how overdone she'd been when he'd met cousin Malfoy and gone to the Illusionartum, but he could not help feeling sorry for her; she was extremely pale as she put the hat on.
"SLYTHERIN!" screamed the hat.
Juliet smiled prettily as one of the tables erupted in applause. She set the hat down and took her seat at the table. As she did, Albus thought of what the hat had sung. He had no idea where he belonged.
Thinking guiltily of how disloyal he had been to his father, he dismissed Hufflepuff quickly from his mind. He was scared stiff of it all, so Gryffindor definitely wasn't an option. He didn't know what his ambition was and he certainly didn't feel cunning or quick-witted; Slytherin wasn't for him either. Ravenclaw… He thought he had a chance there; he liked reading - did that count?
"Bulstrode, Magnus!"
The large boy sloped forward. The hat took longer in deciding with him, but he eventually ended up in Slytherin too, as did Fitzwilliam Crabbe. As the list descended down the Cs, Albus grew more and more nervous. He felt as though he'd somehow bought the cold Autumn air in with him and that it was hanging around him like a bubble. His heart rose up into his mouth.
By the time the Ds were started, he was feeling quite sick. Then, all too quickly-
"Dumbledore, Albus!"
He staggered forward, seeing Frederick's grin of encouragement but his face too stiff to respond, and sat on the hard stool before ramming the hat on his head. Somehow, it was although he ceased to exist properly and that all there was was sensation and sound… He could feel the ridged surface of the wood of the stool and the rough weave of the hat as though they were part of him. The hat fell down over his eyes so that he was spared the sight of hundreds of students staring at him. All he could see was blackness - and he couldn't help wondering whether that was somehow representative of his future - just a huge blankness…Then a voice began speaking in his ear.
His first instinct was to rip the hat off and fling it on the floor. Instead, he gripped the edges of the stool so tightly that his knuckles cracked and listened.
"Hmm," mused the hat. "What a quick mind, indeed! And you think you belong in Ravenclaw, eh? Well, certainly you seem it on the surface…"
The hat made another noise of pondering fascination.
"And there's loyalty there - oh yes - and yes, cunning! A mind for plotting with, yes indeed… but ambition centred only in others…"
Please sir, Albus thought. I don't feel very cunning.
"You don't feel it, no? Well, trust me young Dumbledore, you are. Hmm… where shall I put you?"
There was a pause.
"Ah!" the hat cried softly. "Bravery! Determination! But-"
There was another, agonisingly long pause. Then the hat spoke in tones of unmistakeable bewilderment.
"But you could do well in any House! Loyalty and cleverness and bravery and cunning… Where am I to put you?"
Albus became aware that he'd been sitting on the stool for a whole five minutes; he could hear the sounds of people whispering and moving impatiently… He bit his lip and waited.
"Well, I don't think I've ever found it so hard to Sort a student," admitted the hat.
Are you looking into my mind? asked Albus hesitantly, feeling ill at the idea.
"Yes, I am, young Dumbledore - and what a picture I am finding!"
Albus had no idea whether this was a good thing or a bad thing and bit his lip harder.
"Right," said the hat suddenly, decisively. "There's the answer - at the core of you. You have the wind of change blowing through your soul, young Dumbledore. And the bravery's driving it. There's only one House for such revolutionaries and idealists. Best be… GRYFFINDOR!"
One of the tables roared with excitement and pent-up suspense. Albus took off the hat to see the whole school staring at him. He set the hat down, feeling light-headed, and went to sit over at the Gryffindor table, to sit down next to a friendly-faced third year. Albus gazed at the hat dreamily as someone else picked it up. He couldn't believe it. How could he, a quiet bookworm, be at home in a House renowned for bravery and recklessness? It didn't seem possible.
He watched as the other first years were Sorted. William sat on the stool for a minute before being sent to Gryffindor and Neptune seemed completely unconcerned as he was Sorted into Ravenclaw. To Albus's delight, no sooner had Samuel sat down than he was put into Gryffindor - meaning that the pair of them grinned happily at each other before turning to watch the others being given their places. Matthias fidgeted on the stool before being made a Gryffindor and he sat down next to Albus looking pleased - although Albus still caught him glancing at him in apparent distrust.
Septimus Malfoy swaggered forward to be placed instantly in Slytherin, making Albus glad that he hadn't been put there, as was Priscilla Nott after a two minute-long wait. He then sat and hoped desperately for Frederick to be placed in Gryffindor - which he was and he squeezed next to Albus with a flushed face. Liberius Weasley, after some consideration, was also placed in Gryffindor and Albus found himself grinning at how many of his new friends had been Sorted into the same House. Once the Sorting was over and the hat taken away, Professor Lestrange stood up.
"First years - welcome to Hogwarts," he rasped in a rather unwelcoming way. "Old students, welcome back. Now, I think we all need to be reminded of the rules. No student is to be found out of bed after nine o'clock. No student is to be caught using any of Mr Zonko's thoroughly unamusing products. No student is to…"
Albus soon found his head buzzing with rules and regulations. Frederick's grin faded as he listened and Matthias was more solemn than ever. Liberius kept smiling, as thought he thought it was a joke - and then realised it wasn't, with an expression of horror. All the jubilation of the Sorting seemed utterly crushed under Lestrange's words.
"As a school, it is our duty to encourage intellectual growth. It is also our duty to guide students to the land of Morality." Albus noticed that Lestrange had a cane and was tapping the floor with it, punctuating every syllable with a quiet bap. "Now, this land is one which students seem to… struggle finding. This school is here to halt the descent into Depravity that so many these days succumb to. As a school, we must weed out the weak and help the strong. We must…"
Albus found himself getting very bored with Lestrange's speech. It seemed to go on and on, and the painful ache of hunger in his stomach was growing. Next to him, Frederick's tummy gave an audible rumble. The older students had a slightly glazed look about them, as though they'd heard all about the land of Morality and the regions of Depravity before. Albus attempted to listen but he found what he understood of the speech to leave a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth.
Eventually, Lestrange sat down and clapped - food appeared on the plates and several students stared at it as if they'd forgotten what it was for. Albus started bolting the roast beef down whilst Liberius attacked his potatoes with the ferocity of a bear.
"I'm rather confused," said Frederick through a mouthful of pasty. "I always thought that the regions of Depravity had something to do with using the toilet."
The third year near Albus choked on his pumpkin juice at that, but Albus himself was too ravenous to reply. He helped himself to several sugar-laden cakes just as the third year swallowed his juice and spoke.
"Quite! We've visited the land of Morality with Lestrange so many times that it's a wonder we're not all saints!"
Next to Albus, Samuel was talking to Liberius about the Sorting. Albus listened in.
"I was nearly put in Hufflepuff, you know! I don't suppose that would be too bad-"
"My whole family are in Gryffindor," said Liberius past some trifle. "It would have been awful if I hadn't been one too."
"I was nearly put in Slytherin!" complained Matthias. "As if I'd shared a dormitory with that Malfoy scum!"
"Don't go spreading that around, for Merlin's sake," advised Liberius. "I've heard that the House rivalries are pretty thick."
"The hat couldn't make up its mind with me," contributed Albus tentatively, still feeling rather shy.
"I know!" exclaimed Frederick. "I thought we'd all be as old as Lestrange by the time you took it off!"
Eventually the meal ended and Lestrange rose to his feet again. Albus hoped he wasn't going to make another speech; he was feeling quite sleepy.
"We have heard the Sorting Hat expound to us the virtues of each House," he rasped. "But let us not forget the vices." He then looked pointedly towards Gryffindor table.
Albus and the other first years were quite shocked when all the other Gryffindors broke into a dull chant. "Recklessness, stupidity, disobedience," they recited tonelessly.
Lestrange then gazed at the Ravenclaw table where they also chanted the apparent faults of their House. "Laziness, coldness, disrespect," they intoned sadly.
"Foolishness, carelessness, disinterest," the Hufflepuffs said dully.
Last of all, Lestrange looked towards the Slytherin table. "Disloyalty," they said and Albus was struck by how the Slytherin House seemed to have only one fault.
Lestrange then dismissed them for bed. Albus and his friends followed the Gryffindors up impressive flights of moving steps and along decorated corridors. Albus was still thinking of how odd it was to make the Houses chant their vices before bedtime and several times he nearly walked into the suits of armour randomly dotted around. They arrived in front of a picture of a beautiful young lady, who smiled at them and asked for a password. The Gryffindor Prefect - a tall, slim, elegant-looking boy - spoke it and they entered into a cosy-looking Common Room. Albus was too tired to take it in properly and so simply followed the other first years up to their dormitory, where he tumbled into the massive four-poster with his trunk in front of it. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.