Chapter Six: A Midnight Chat

"Har-harry close the windoer," Ginny mumbled, half asleep. She waited a few seconds for her slumbering husband to arise, then rose out of bed towards the open window in their room, coaxing sleep from her eyes. She started awake as she realized the rhythm emanating from the ceiling was not the sound of rain, but rather the pitter patter of feet pacing the floor above. She checked the time, 2:10AM, and curiously made her way to her sons' bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, letting a thin band of light streak the hallway. A shadow passed through the band, giving away the movement of some agitated child and the creaking of wood.

Ginny already knew which boy was awake, but wondered what kept Albus crossing the bedroom. Peering through the gap, she watched her son pace around the floor, taking inventory of his belongings, now neatly organized for the trip tomorrow. The family was spending the last weekend of the summer at the Weasleys' before the school year began. One. Two. Three. Albus counted his reading list; Dragons and Lore given to him by Charlie Weasley, Pinnochio and other fairy tales (Had he taken that from the Dursleys?) , and The Nargles of Central America compliments of Luna and her husband. He ran his fingers down the bars of an empty bird cage, which would soon house his own mail owl. Suddenly, he again crossed the bedroom to where James lay unconscious, comfortably resting over a few piles of half folded clothes he was supposed to have packed. He slowly pulled a jumper from a stack near his feet, slightly out of place from being removed before, and, checking once more that he hadn't disturbed James, pulled it over his head and shifted slightly to face a standing mirror between the beds. Slowly, he traced the outline of a golden lion sewn in the center of the maroon material, taking in the image of himself in proper Gryffindor attire. First he stood quite square, filling up as much space as possible in the larger sweater, then, glancing once more to the left, relaxed into a jaunty pose, wagging his head slightly and flashing a mischievous smile.

Ginny couldn't suppress a chuckle at the uncanny impression of James, shattering Albus' isolation. He whirled around and stared wide-eyed at his mother, who gently beckoned him downstairs. In the kitchen, Ginny placed a kettle on a raised stovetop and began rummaging through her one of the many eclectic cupboards surrounding the archway over the oven. The kitchen descended slightly into a small living room organized around a wide gable window. A light curtain had been thrown across the panes for the night, but one could still make out the roofs of the neighborhood as they sank into a valley, the dotted lights reappearing after a distance, as the other side of Ottery St. Catchpole crawled up the slope of another grassy mesa. Beyond the hilltop lay a very familiar crooked rural home now in the care of Ron and Hermione. The tea kettle began whistling whilst Ginny continued to search for a chocolate drink and a mint tea, "shhh, shhh,shhh" she crooned to the kettle, "Do you know what time it is?" as the pot nestled into a contented murmur. Finding her items, Ginny poured two mugs of hot drink and pushed them across the middle island, in front of Albus who had slouched on a stool. Perching on a seat next to her son, Ginny ran her fingers through strands of thick brown hair, tugging the clumps into wild directions. Albus grinned and shook his head, then began talking, "It'll be awfully cool if I get picked for Ravenclaw and get to sleep in the high spires of the dorm."

"Oh I bet that will be a magnificent view. I've heard you can see the clouds settle on the lake from above on foggy days."

"And Hufflepuff may win another Quidditch championship, especially since Roxanne will have recovered from her broken arm."

"That wasn't James who caused that, right?"

"No, Archer Boot."

"Ah well that may have set their relationship back."

"Oh I don't know." Albus reddened as he whispered, "James, said they were snogging on the train back home"

"James would eavesdrop on a moment like that"

Albus snickered and continued

"And well James is all about Gryffindor, he said they have the best kind of people, and Slytherin... well..." Albus was scuffing his hands around the edge of the countertop. He looked up at his mother who returned his gaze empathetically.

"Al, believe me when I say that you'll love the house you're sorted into. The hat...yes I know its a hat...is very good at picking the place that you'll thrive best."

Still unconvinced, Albus ventured "But some houses are better though, I mean there's so many heroes in Gryffindor, even besides you and Dad and the Weasleys... other houses..."

"Why should you care Al? I know where you're going." Ginny paused, deciding, then continued in a heavier tone.

"You know, as the battle with Voldemort began at Hogwarts, Headmaster McGonagall ordered the Slytherin House to be confined in the dungeons. It was a time of emergency and at that point, several students in Slytherin had made their loyalties very clear. But there were a few students who adamantly refused her order and fought, for our side. They actually escaped the dungeons and destroyed a back entryway, using very little magic as well, Al, as most had had their wands confiscated. They more or less obliterated the front being led by Rudolphus Lestrange. " She paused again. Albus' eyes were riveted with the new information.

"I believe it was Minerva's greatest regret; she insisted on stepping down from her post shortly after the damages to Hogwarts were mended. She felt unfit to lead a school of students that she had rendered so vulnerable because of her fears of a House's legacy. Eventually many wizards persuaded her to reinstate herself, I think, for the better. "

A weight seemed to drop into Albus' eyes as they trailed off to ponder this new information. Minerva often visited the Potters and Weasleys, and seemed to a small child like Albus, a woman of impenetrable wisdom and will. Her decisions as Head of Hogwarts were often praised in the Daily Prophet as she increased the quality of staff and resources available to all departments, soaring the OWL score of the average wizard to the highest in Western Europe. Yet she felt responsible for an impossible choice to the point that she would have let her skills go to waste? He remembered once when he and James had prodded her to tell them a tale of the Battle, gushing about her amazing feats of transfiguration. She had ordered them away rather sternly, saying she thought as little of that year as possible and planned to continue ignoring it. "She's just humble," said James, and Albus believed that to be a reasonable explanation, but now the recollection took on a new color...

Ginny was always impressed at the perceptiveness of her middle child; she swore the present contortion of her son's expression would have matched the older face of her former professor as she had confessed her story during a visit many years ago, asking for donations to make a memorial for the fallen students. She cupped her son's cheek and brought his head to face hers once more.

"Albus, I want you be excited about the House you'll be sorted into. I want you to be proud of your colors and cheer on your Quidditch team and try to get as many points as possible whenever you can. But don't think that all those things require you to act a certain way. Houses are not the halls and Common Room, Albus, they're people- the people define the House, not the other way around."

She started to draw a ribbon circling her son's features and by the time she had meandered down the bridge of his nose, Albus had slouched into her, fast asleep.

Ginny gathered up the small boy and laid him into bed. As she wrapped the covers around Albus' shoulders, he stirred slightly and asked, "Does Dad think this way?"

"I think he would like to tell you himself."