Chapter 2

Albus tore his eyes away from the window. A wary smile slid over his face as he turned to Rose. "So we're here, right? We're finally here. Hogwarts." He looked around. "So we go find a compartment now?"

Rose slid the door nearest them open and stuck her head inside. "Anyone sitting - oh."

"Fancy seeing you here, Weasley. Thought you would've wet your pants and stayed at the station at the thought of not seeing your dear mummy for months."

"Sorry to bother. Go back painting your pretty nails, Malfoy." Rose slammed the door closed, bristling.

"Sheesh, Rose, who was that?" Albus asked as he opened the compartment next door.

A voice came through the half-open door. "Al? Rosie? C'mon in! There's place for a few more." Albus grinned and pushed it further open. He and Rose sat down.

Three boys and in their second year sat across from them. The middle one raised an eyebrow. "Well? Got anything to say?" James said.

"They're nervous about their first day." Fred Weasley II chuckled. "Remember us last year?" He gave a deep, mournful sigh and shook his dark red mop of hair. "Days long past..."

The blonde boy on the other side of James rolled his eyes. Albus assumed he was the Daniel Moore he had heard his brother chatter about enthusiastically during summer: "He's so quiet, Mom, but Dad, wow! You should see the ideas he comes up with! He's a genius!" To which Harry had given Ginny a knowing look and she had grinned.

Rose looked at the boys, all dressed proudly in Gryffindor robes. A shiver went down her spine, bringing back her fear of the Sorting ceremony. Slytherin what if she was in Slytherin what if Slytherin oh merlin Slytherin SLYTHERIN what if what if what-if-whatifwhat-

"Rosie? You okay?"

"Yes... yeah, I'll be fine."

Albus gave a tiny, knowing smile before a frown crossed his face again. "Me too. I mean, I'm scared too. But there's something I need to tell you..." He motioned with his head towards the door. James, their cousin and Daniel looked at the two new firsties. Rose mentioned that they'd be back soon. Albus pulled his cousin out into the corridor, swinging the bag with his Hogwarts robes on his back. As they walked, he said,

"You know, just before we left, my dad told me something. About Slytherin. And the Sorting Hat. Well... well. Yes." He took a deep breath. "Did you know that the famous Harry Potter should've been a Slytherin?"

Rose stopped."What? But... he's Harry Potter. Slytherin? No. Not him.
He's Harry Potter, the famous GRYFFINDOR."

"Yes." Albus mused, "But he was almost a Slytherin. That's where the Sorting Hat wanted to put him."

Disbelief stretched over Rose's face at the undeniable ring of truth in his words. Softly, she whispered, "Uncle Harry... a Slytherin." Suddenly her lips twitched mischievously as she tried to hold a laugh in.

Al frowned. " What's so funny?"

Rose was full blown laughing now. "I'm just thinking. Imagine your dad and Mr. Malfoy were friends in Slytherin? After all, he would never have been friends with my dad then. And I don't know if my dad would met - or even liked - my mom if they hadn't defeated that troll helping each other."

Albus snorted. "Heck, she wouldn't even have been in that bathroom if it wasn't for my dad and Uncle Ron. Wow. Things would've played out so differently if my dad had been Slytherin..."

After Albus changed into this robes, the cousins chatted about what if Harry was in Slytherin and had been friends with Draco Malfoy.

Fred, James and Daniel had no idea how they had started on this random topic. But they were quick to way in their opinions, "If Malfoy and Dad were pals, Dad would never have caught that ball in his first year! So then he wouldn't have been the legendary first year Quidditch player..." James weighed in.

"Hang on, I haven't heard that had to do with Mr. Malfoy..." Daniel inquired.

The rest of the trip consisted of debates, jokes and arguments. They ate too many sweets, James and Rose yelled at each other while Albus fumed, they played Exploding Snap, Daniel got a Hermione Granger Chocolate Frog card which made Rose turn red. Fred dramatically recounted the "Seven Trials" one needs to face before the Sorting Hat. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful eight hours' trip.

It was dark by the time the train ground to a halt. A conductor ushered the students out. The first years huddled in small groups, nervous chatter sounding softly. Just before he got on the carriage, James grinned cockily, motioned to the Great Lake and said something about wrestling the giant squid.

Albus shuddered. Whispering, he asked, "What if, Rose..?"

She knew what he meant. What if they were in Slytherin, what if they had to wrestle a squid and win a giant game of chess, what if, what if...

"Oy! Firs' years over 'ere! Com'n, ye little Firsties! Okay, righ', ye all 'ere? Good! Ah, 'ello, Albus an' Rosie."

"Hi, Hagrid." Rose greeted shyly. Hagrid really was huge. He towered over the two cousins, but he was so cheerful it was hard to look at him and not grin.

"Would yeh look at 'ow yeh've grown! Last time I saw ye, yeh were jus' a little baby. I could 'old yeh both in my arms! Well, 'op in, Firs' years! Find a boat!"

Rose and Albus were the last in a boat. With a grinding noise, Al pushed the boat into the dark lake. Water splashed against the side as it slowly propelled itself forward. It was a good thing that it moved magically, because Albus and Rose were staring, open mouthed at the castle. It was magnificent. The towers seemed to touch the sky and even though they were so nervous, the cousins completely forgot about the Sorting Ceremony.

The boat slid onto the sandy bank with a crunching sound. Slightly wobbly from the ride, they stepped out. In the full moon, Rose could see Hagrid grin widely. He seemed as excited as they were to get to the school. "C'mon firs' years. Up this way!"

It was dark and cold, but the windows of the Great Hall sparkled invitingly. Hagrid led them up steep stone steps cut into the cliff face. The air had a freezing bite to it, but Rose wasn't shivering because of the cold.

"James says that a giant squid lives in the Lake." Albus said nervously as the butterflies throw a disco party in his stomach. He tried thinking of happier thoughts, like getting to play Quidditch like his father, and midnight dorm parties... Would Slytherin have dorm parties? Oh, Merlin, Slytherin...

"Merlin was in Slytherin." He whispered. Have courage, like him. Be brave. Unconsciously, he was lecturing himself on Gryffindor traits. It was so enforced by his parents, aunts and uncles: Be brave and you will come out on top. Also, be Slytherin and you will turn out like Malfoy. The butterflies turned into an entire zoo.

A tall man waited at the top of the cliff in front of a strong, wooden side door. "Good evening, Hagrid. Brought the First Years up safe?" said Professor Neville Longbottom.

"Yep! Good as gold too, yeh bet. Look 'ere! Ron an' Hermione's kid an' lil' Al too."

Albus made an unidentifiable noise at being called "little". Rose ignored it. She had more pressing matters at hand. Her black tie wasn't straight.

The door opened, and Neville led them into a small passage. The first years followed in a single file and the passage led out into a sort of side room which led out into the Great Hall. They could hear the Headmistress McGonagall announcing that they would now be sorting the new students and that they must welcome the first years, no matter what house they are in. Then the line started moving and Rose got her first taste of the inside of Hogwarts.

Now, Rose had expected it to be amazingly magical. She knew about the enchanted ceiling. But what she saw took her breath nonetheless.

Then Professor Longbottom took a scroll of parchment and told the students that there were four houses. "Each with their unique traits: Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." The muttering in the Hall quieted at the last house.

In most people's eyes it was the house that the Death Eaters had been in, the house that had wanted to turn in Harry Potter. The Second Wizarding War had been fought to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Heir of Slytherin. Something like that tended to be the etched into history and culture of every wizard in Britain. Many ghost stories started with, "It was midnight. A Slytherin was sneaking around, the shadow of..." and this part was whispered, "...You-Know-Who, Voldemort, was following him willingly..."

Neville cleared his throat. "I would like you all to remember that all the none of the houses are good or evil. No matter what your dorm- and housemates might say, all houses have produced their share of Dark wizards."

"Now," and he stepped to the side revealing the Sorting Hat, "You will be sorted into your appropriate houses." A slit opened at its brim, and the Sorting Hat sang, telling about the houses and their characteristics. Then Professor Longbottom unrolled the parchment and read,

"Aragorn, Edward!"

A boy with neat, wavy dark hair nervously walked forward and sat on the chair. The Sorting Hat was placed on his head. It hesitated a moment, then yelled,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A table in the front right decked in red and gold cheered loudly. Rose searched it for familiar faces, and found several of her cousins. Edward hopped of the chair and trotted over to his new house. Rose wished it was her sitting down there. She tuned out.

"Cole, Joshua!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Ford, Owen!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Hemes, Melissa!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Kempthorne, Ariana!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The girl froze. Neville whispered that she could get up, and look- there were her housemates. Ariana sat still, terror on her face. Neville looked a bit lost. He tried coaxing her. Then a boy stood up in the top left of the hall and walked forward. Five hundred and twenty pairs of eyes watched him confidently run a hand through his strawberry-blond hair and straighten the collar over a green and silver trimmed pullover. He held out a hand to the girl and helped her off the chair, gently guiding her to the table.

Albus and Rose exchanged glances. It had been ages since they had seen him. Louis. The first Weasley in centuries to be Sorted into Slytherin. He spent most of the summer at his one of his friends, Zachary Nott. Harry and Ron didn't like the Nott boy very much, though. Something about the past. Louis was a year ahead; second year like James.

The next name was called, a Dylan Landon who was a Hufflepuff, and someone else who was a Ravenclaw.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

All eyes followed the son of the famously infamous Draco Malfoy as he threw a cocky smirk over his shoulder

Scorpius:

I smirked at the other first years. Confident. Be confident, my father said. Even when you are absolutely terrified.
What if I'm in Gryffindor? My father will disinherit me, I'm certain. I step up and sit on the chair. Be brave, Scor, I think. No! Not brave. Cunning. Yes.

"Well, well, well... young Mr Malfoy, I believe?" the hat echoes through my head. Darn, it's going to mess up my hair.

Who else? I think.

It chuckled. How does a Hat chuckle? "Arrogant, too. I think it should be –"
Slytherin... The Hat silently agrees; I feel it.

"Hang on."

What? Fear takes root. What will father say? What will Grandfather say? I will be kicked out, I'll be in the same House as that POTTER prat… no- no- no-no-no…

"You are a Gryffindor at heart, Scorpius. And you know it. You could grow in that house and be happy.

I am a Slytherin. My tone is final; my thoughts are not.

"You will come to regret that choice. But if you feel so strongly, then it should be:

SLYTHERIN!"

I wanted to let out a whoop, but kept it in. I was in Slytherin! The only respectable house for any Malfoy. Calm and controlled; bursting on the inside, I got off the seat and strut over to the table of green and silver Serpents.

I couldn't help but sneak a glance over to the table of Gryffindors, trying to banish the doubt...

Albus:
I looked over to Rose, who was standing near the back of the line. She was fidgeting with her tie again. "Psst..." I hissed. She glanced up. "Always knew he'd be Slytherin," she mouthed. I nodded.

A few other names were called. A Hufflepuff here, Ravenclaw there, the odd Slytherin or Gryffindor, then:

"Potter, Albus!"

Cold sweat runs down my back. My thoughts fill with green and silver. I stand up. I walk, as if to my hanging. Haha, they're going to put this thing on my head that will read my thoughts. I wonder if it can see the time I crashed my broom into the tree, I think, slightly hysterically.

I sit down. Neville catches my eye and put a hand on my shoulder. The he places the Sorting Hat on my head.

"Hmm…" the Hat voice booms through my head. I shiver. "A Potter, is it?"

Ahh…uh - yeah. Yes.

"Hesitant? Let's see." Hesitant? No - that's not a Gryffindor quality -

"You would be surprised, Albus. Sometimes it is just that which keeps you and your friends from getting killed. Everyone is scared when they come through here."

I swallow. Oh... okay… I pull my stomach together (it seems to be all over the place) and ask, as firm as I can, What House should I be?

I want a truthful answer.

I feel it smile, and I wait. Breathlessly.

"I think, Albus...Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff. But… I'm leaning towards Gryffindor. Your last question showed courage."

I scarcely dare to hope. Yes, yes, Gryffindor… I fail miserably in my quest to not-hope.

Then I hear it, shouting out my House name,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I grin uncontrollably. Neville slips me a quick smile and I realise how much he wanted me to be in his House. My House cheers wildly, clapping and laughing.

I think I skipped. I'm not sure, but I hope not. Gryffindor - Gryffindor! -boys don't skip. I think.

I sit down next to a dark-haired boy. "Hello!" he says cheerfully, before I've said a word.

I smile. "Ah- Hey. I'm Albus -"

"Nice to meet yah! I'm Marius Thomas. I'm so glad I got into Gryffindor! My dad was here, you see. Who knows what he would have done if I wasn't! My mum though, she didn't mind. She's a Muggle, but Dad told her he was a wizard when they got married. My dad was in the same year as Harry Potter! Dean Thomas. What about your parents - muggles or wizards? Where were they? "

"Um. Eh…" I swallow. "Well. Actually, my mom and dad were both Gryffindor."

"There must have been a lot of pressure to be here, right?"

"Not… not really." I say, for the first time realising that Mom and Dad honestly don't mind which house I am in. I smile slightly. But I can't straight out go, "Hey, my Dad is Harry Potter," can I?

"My dad was in the year as your as your father," I say. I vaguely wonder if he is going to recognise me. Then again, it's not like I've been in the spotlight very often.

"Really?" says Marius. I can see he's trying to piece me together with one of his father's friends. I watch his face struggle between guessing and asking. I wonder if he's going to hit the right one.

"Who was your dad?"

I suppress a grin and a sigh. I know, I know, many witches and wizards would give their Kennilworthy Whisp-signed brooms to be Harry Potter's son, but quite honestly… I hate it. I hate the awkwardness and fame. "Harry. Potter. Yes. Well." I wait.

His eyes grow. "Potter? You're his son?"

"I've always assumed so."

He chuckles anxiously. "Sorry about that. I must seem very forward."

"No! No, please it's fine, I preferred it when you were yourself, it's not like I'm going to hex you for talking to me-"

"Weasley, Rose!"

My head jerks upward.

Rose:

I catch Albus's eye as I walk forward, nervously pushing through the rest of the students also waiting to be Sorted. I should run. Out. Yes. Go, legs, go! Legs are not moving. Well, they are, but not in the direction I want them to. I see the eyes watching me. Most come from the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, surprisingly.

The distance to the Hat takes forever. I am going to die. Somehow, that little piece of knowledge doesn't worry me as much as it should. Huh. I'll save that information for later analysing. What later? I'm going to die, remember.

There. Three more steps. One, two, three… Miscalculated. Four. I step up and sit down. Neville briefly squeezes my shoulder and picks up the Hat. It is placed on my head. Immediately, I hear it.

"Well… what have we here? Another Weasley, I see. A good mind, yes… A very good mind. Also brave, courageous and chivalric. So far a traditional Weasley."

Something twisted inside me as I was called "traditional" A Weasley? Yes. But in a family consisting of a thousand red-heads of the same name, traditional and normal just leaves you lost in the sea at family gatherings.

I'm not traditional, I think.

It probes deeper into my mind. "No. It seems I was mistaken first time around. You are certainly different than the rest of the bunch that have gone through here."

I grin. Thankfully, someone has seen that my personality is more than just red hair.

"I think that mean you're perfect for…"

Realisation hits me in the gut as I understand what I have condemned myself to.

NO! WAIT! I think wildly. The Sorting Hat pauses.

"You don't want to be different?"

Well, yes, but in a good way… I don't want to be in Slytherin!

"There goes Ravenclaw. You're too narrow-minded. Not all Slytherins are evil, Rose. You should know that."

Neville catches my eye. "Hat stall," he mouths. I'm too preoccupied to notice.

Yes, but, still! I might want to be different, but I'm still a Weasley! We don't belong in Slytherin!

"Rose. Your family has been in Slytherin before. In fact, you are descended from a family that believed only Slytherin to be the right house. You know, of course, that you are related to the Black family through your father, but there is something else too."

I sense the weight of some behind his words. What do you mean?

"Your mother, Rose, was muggle-born. But most muggle-borns have a wizard in their ancestry… or, as in Hermione's case, a squib."

I blinked. I must have looked very strange to the students watching, I suppose. Not that I was thinking about that. One of my mom's parents, or grandparents was a squib?

"It goes a bit farther back than that, I think, between four and six generations. A Black squib, to be exact. Of course he, or she, I'm not quite sure, will not be found in any records. The Black family would have made sure of that. But on both sides, strong Slytherin magical blood runs through your veins, Rose. Very watered down, but there. You are a Weasley, but I also see some of the Black family in you - more than I have ever seen in any of your other kin. Slytherin could make you a great witch. The first Slytherin Weasley."

What do you mean, you see some of the Black in me? I have never done anything remotely evil… Flashes of lying to my parents and blaming it on Hugo, lying well at age seven, secretly practicing my magic before I was eleven rip my argument apart.

I shiver. I'm scared. I don't, I can't be in Slytherin.

What would dad say? They would be so disappointed. Mom would sit silently and try to hide the fact that she had secretly hoped for Gryffindor. Dad would probably rage and send a Howler. Albus… he would be shocked. Horrified, even. I can't do this to them?

No. I can't.

I must be in Gryffindor. For my family.

"That, Rose, is the most Gryffindor-like thing you have said all evening. You are willing to sacrifice the great life you know, yes, you do know it, that you could have had in the house of silver and green."

I glance over to them.

"I stand by my word. You should have been in Slytherin. But, for your family's sake-"

Does this mean-

"GRYFFINDOR!"