Albus felt the nervousness inside him rising as silence filled the room beyond. He became suddenly aware that his hands were shaking, and he shoved them hastily inside his robe to hide this from anyone watching. He looked anxiously over at Rose and saw that her face was nothing short of petrified. Fear washed over him like a tidal wave – he'd forgotten not to look at Rose as they got nearer to the Sorting. As the first years followed the violet-robed man, Albus pushed his shaking hands deeper into the pockets of his robe.

The room beyond was enormous, though not nearly as large as the hall he had just left. The ceiling reflected the starry night outside, and it blended so well with the walls of the hall that Albus was not sure where the sky ended and the walls began. This room held five long tables, the first of which stretched the width of the room and had an assortment of adults sitting along it with only two chairs missing their occupants. The other four took up almost the entire length of the hall, upon which sat all of the students of Hogwarts. Every eye seemed fixed upon Albus as he walked down the aisle, though logically he knew this was nothing more than paranoia. He held his robes tight against his small frame as he walked, and was in such a hurry to get to the end of the row that he almost tripped over his robes. Thankfully, Rose seemed to be jerked out of her stupor at this movement and grabbed his arm to steady him.

The first years stopped in front of a stool, upon which sat a very old, battered-looking hat. The man that had led them to that point moved to stand next to the stool. When they had all gathered before him once again, he spoke. "Good evening! I am Professor Swift! Now, first years, when I call your name, you'll come sit on the stool and place the Sorting Hat on your head. When you have been sorted into your houses, you will sit at the appropriate table. Everyone got it? Wonderful!"

Albus glanced around, trying to figure out which houses were which. He saw James wave at him from the table on the far left, which meant that was Gryffindor's table. To the left of them, Albus spotted the insignia of Ravenclaw, all of whom were gazing interestedly at the stool, as though it were about to share some secret with them. After them, Albus spotted the Slytherins. Everything James had told him about the lot seemed to be true: they looked like horrible, malicious people that probably wouldn't be averse to smashing his face in if the occasion presented itself. To the far right sat the Hufflepuffs, a rather kind-faced group of people that contrasted extraordinarily with the Slytherins next to them.

"Ackerd, Melissa!"

The girl that had asked Hagrid about mermaids on the boat shakily moved forward, looking very much like she would rather flee from the room and never be seen again. With an encouraging smile from Professor Swift, however, she managed to pick up the hat, sit on the stool, and place it on her head with a little squeak of fear.

Albus wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, but he'd thought something would. His father had told him that the hat talked to people, but Albus had usually envisioned it speaking aloud so everyone could hear. There were several moments of silence, and then quite suddenly, an opening appeared at the brim of the hat like mouth, and the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

The third table lined with blue exploded into tumultuous applause to greet the new Ravenclaw. The girl, looking quite relieved that the affair was over, skipped to her house table.

"Alcott, Timothy!"

The list of people went on. The dark-haired boy with Scorpius on the train, who was named Lucas Andrews, was sent to Slytherin without hesitation. Aeron, the boy from the train, turned out to be a Ravenclaw addition. This surprised Albus greatly, as he had not taken Aeron to have much of anything in his head. He also discovered, though this was not to his surprise, that Scorpius Malfoy was immediately sent to the Slytherin table to join his friend.

"Potter, Albus!"

The stern woman that sat in the middle of the staff table snapped her head to look at him as he nervously approached the stool. He felt her eyes boring into his with such intensity that it was almost a relief to turn his back to her when he sat on the stool. He slid the battered Sorting Hat over his head, which fell right down to his nose, and waited tensely for something to happen.

"Another Potter, eh…?" a soft voice whispered; whether it was in his ear or in his head, Albus knew not. "Brave like your father, yes… a curious mind… some cunning in you too, you could do well almost anywhere…"

Please, Albus thought meekly, I don't want to go to Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin?" said the voice. "Slytherin will help you to get places, they're always well-connected, Slytherins…"

No, please, Albus thought. I want to be a Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor? Yes, I see you have a lot of your father in you… very well… GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted to the entire hall. He pushed the hat off his head to see a torrent of applause from the Gryffindor table. He scampered off the stool and searched for Rose, meeting her eyes once he'd found her. The fear on her face was one Albus associated with severe punishment, like the time his mother had discovered that he and James had accidentally set the house on fire when his parents were in Diagon Alley. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but that seemed to only heighten her terror, as though his grin was the signature on her death warrant.

Albus sat down next to a brunette boy that had been sorted before him, both of them sharing a grin, silently congratulating one another on surviving the Sorting.

"Darren Knight," said the boy, holding out his hand.

"Al Potter," responded Albus, shaking it. His hand was very cold, whereas Albus's was warm from excessively high blood flow. It made him wonder if Darren had been nervous about the Sorting at all.

Several more names were called in the next few minutes, until finally there were only two people left. Rose looked close to fainting. Albus wanted to somehow communicate with her that there was nothing to be afraid of, but she seemed unable to look at him anymore, as though staring at him would jinx her chances.

"Weasley, Rosalie."

Rose's entire body was shaking, and when she sat on the stool, it seemed like the very wood it was made of started shaking too. With trembling hands, she forced the hat onto her head. Albus watched with bated breath. Because the hat went even farther down on Rose than it had on him, it was impossible to make out her facial expressions to figure out what the hat was saying. Her hands, however, were clenched onto the stool she sat on, white as a ghost. They occasionally tensed even more than they already were so that the nerves in her hands stood out like paint. After what must have been a minute, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Rose didn't hesitate; she threw the hat off her head and ran to their table.

"What took you so long?" Albus asked, giving her a hug as she took the seat next to him.

"Me?" said Rose. "It took you a while too! The hat just wasn't sure if I should be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. I had to argue my point."

"What did you say?"

"That if the hat wanted me to live to see my second year, he'd better put me in Gryffindor."

Albus laughed, much more lighthearted now that the worst was over. As "Yaxley, Lauren" was put into Slytherin, he introduced Rose and Darren.

"Pleasure," said Darren, taking her hand and kissing it.

Rose flushed a brilliant shade of red to match her hair and muttered something about his action being highly unnecessary. Albus resisted the urge to punch Darren in the face.

There was more clinking of glass, and the woman in the middle of the staff table stood. To her belonged the stern voice that had announced the Sorting of the first years. "I welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts. For those who do not know, I am Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress. We shall go over announcements after the feast. For now, please enjoy yourselves to the fullest capacity."

As she sat down again, the empty golden plates on the tables filled with food, and the aroma emanating from them hit Albus just as suddenly. He had not realized how hungry he was until that moment. The plates were nearly overflowing with turkey, ham, and steak; sausages, bacon, potatoes, and fries; peas, carrots, green beans, and corn. He greedily reached for them, scooping several spoonfuls of everything onto his plate. He glanced over to the goblet in front of him and saw that it too was now full with what looked like pumpkin juice.

"Oh, look," said Rose, not long after they started eating. She was pointing at the staff table. "It's Neville!"

"Professor Longbottom now," Albus corrected, taking note. Professor Longbottom was no different than ever before. While his father had assured Albus that he was a great wizard, he had never seen anything to prove it. Indeed, in the few seconds that Albus watched his new professor, he knocked over his goblet, spilling its contents onto the woman next to him.

Albus was about to go back to his eating when such a chill went through him that he dropped his fork, clattering loudly onto his plate. Rose turned to ask what was wrong when the same feeling passed through her, as though a bucket of ice water had just been poured over her head. Both of them turned to the culprit.

"Good evening," said the ghost.

Albus knew who this must be immediately. He smiled back and said, "Nearly Headless Nick!"

The ghost looked slightly affronted. "I prefer—"

"Oh!" said Darren, eyes wide as he too dropped his fork with a clatter, though he was only staring at Nick. "You are a ghost!"

Nick cocked his head to the side in irritation, causing his head to almost fall off his neck. It hung by the merest thread of skin. "Of course I'm a ghost! What else would I be?"

Seeing Nick's annoyance, Darren quickly murmured an apology. Nick sighed and righted his head. "No, no, it's all right. You're a Muggle born?"

"No," Darren said, eyes on his food. "No, my mother is a witch."

"Oh." It was Nick's turn to be surprised. "Many students of non-magical birth come and are very surprised to see a ghost."

"My mother did not attend Hogwarts; she went to Salem. They have ghosts there as well, but I have never been in contact with one prior to tonight."

"Salem!" said Nick with interest. "I've visited there once, just when I was passing—"

But Rose, seeming unable to contain herself, cut in. "You're from America?"

Darren looked at her, smiling. "No, my mother is. I was born in Britain."

"Have you ever visited? I've always wanted to go, but my mother doesn't think I should start studying abroad until after I get out of Hogwarts. I keep saying I only want to visit, but I suppose she's right," mused Rose. "Once I was there, I wouldn't want to leave."

"I have been twice to see my mother's family. They live in Florida."

Rose immediately started talking excitedly about everything she had read about Florida, and Darren politely continued the conversation with her, an amused smile playing at his lips. Albus tried very hard to ignore them, but the image of wrestling Darren to the floor was repeatedly floating through his mind. It was a very enticing thought.

Somewhere in their conversation, the plates of food vanished again, only to be replaced by desserts. Some Albus recognized, like the treacle tart and jelly doughnuts, but others were new to his eyes. He cautiously tried a few, but was already so full after the feast that there was little room in his stomach for anything more. It was to Albus's relief that Rose seemed to have exhausted herself of anything more to say about Florida and continued to eat quietly. She would occasionally suck the end of her fork, a habit Albus recognized well. Whenever she was deep in thought about anything and had a utensil in her hand, she sucked on it as though it would help her to think better. Albus had been getting her Sugar Quills for Christmas for the last three years.

When the desserts vanished, Professor McGonagall stood again. She had lines on her face from where stress had made its permanent mark in addition to the natural wrinkles of age. Albus recalled his father saying that Professor McGonagall had taught him and that she was not one to cross. She was a fierce witch that was too fair – she never let people off just because they were in her own house. Now that she was Headmistress, however, Albus vaguely wondered if she would still be head of Gryffindor house or teach Transfiguration, like she had done when his father was at Hogwarts.

"I hope you all have enjoyed yourselves this evening. Now, I have some announcements that must be made. First, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students." Her eyes flashed to the Gryffindor table, where James and his two friends were grinning at one another. "Second, visits to the village of Hogsmeade are forbidden to all but third years and above, and students must have signed permission slips from their parent or guardian in order to attend.

"Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors. There is also a list of forbidden items which can be found on his office door, which includes a blanket ban on all Weasley products, Fanged Frisbees, Dungbombs, and similar items."

Rose had a hint of a smile on her face at this. Her Uncle George was infamous in the magical world as owning the greatest joke shop in wizarding history. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had been added to numerous books, earning its reputation for not only laughs, but brilliant weapons that were commonly employed by the Ministry of Magic.

"Also, please note that Quidditch tryouts will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team is encouraged to contact Madam Marin before that time."

"Madam Marin?" whispered Albus. "Mum always said Madam Hooch taught them how to fly."

"No, I looked up our professors before we came," Rose quietly responded, not taking her eyes off Professor McGonagall. "She's a referee for the Official European Quidditch League now."

"You looked up our—?"

"Quiet, Al!"

"Thank you for your attention. I'm sure you're all anxious to get to your dormitories. Please do not be late for breakfast tomorrow, as we will be handing out your new schedules. Goodnight!"

There was suddenly quite a lot of noise as students stood to head out to their dormitories. Albus did the same, a look of mingled uncertainty and apprehension on his face. He glanced at Rose, who looked just as unsure as he did.

"First years!" A boy and a girl from down the Gryffindor table were pushing toward them through the crowd. "Hey, you lot, over here!"

"Jess," the boy chided. "Be nicer to them!"

"What's it matter, they got the message! Are all of you here? All right, try not to trip over yourselves, don't gawk at the portraits, and keep moving! I'd like to get back to the common room before dawn."

The boy's hand flew up to his face, covering his look of exasperation. "Jessica, you can't speak to people like that!"

But she had already started walking towards the double doors leading out of the entrance hall. With a sigh, the boy followed, talking to the first years as he went. "I'm John, and that's Jessica. We're twins, and we're the Gryffindor prefects. If you have a problem, I'd recommend you came to me. She's not always like this, but she can be a bit snappy if she thinks you're wasting her time." He paused. "Which is most of the time."

They exited the Great Hall, Rose explaining everything as they walked. She was much more talkative now that the fear of the Sorting had passed. "That was the Great Hall, we'll be eating there for every meal, and this is the Entrance Hall. Yes, it's quite large, isn't it? Mum told me to read Hogwarts, A History, and of course it has several pictures, so I knew what everything was going to look like before we came. And these staircases, they look quite solid, don't they? Don't be fooled, Al, they move frequently and it's easy to get lost if you don't know your way around. Oh, see, up there? That one's moving!"

Albus looked up and, sure enough, a staircase about three floors above them was moving to the next corridor over.

Rose continued to enlighten him about the different intricacies of Hogwarts until everyone came to a stop. It seemed to Albus as though she was trying to recite the entire book Hogwarts, A History to him before they reached the common room. Once they were in front of the portrait guarding Gryffindor common room, however, she silenced herself.

They had caught up with the blond girl named Jessica. She had a haughty expression and quick eyes that sought out her brother instantly. "Taking your sweet time, were you?"

"You could've gone in," he responded smoothly, undoubtedly with much experience as to dealing with his sister.

"And been harassed because I'm not doing my job?" she snapped. "That's all I need!"

With a last glare, she turned on the spot to face the painting. Within it was a very fat woman in a silk pink dress. The Fat Lady eyed the girl with distaste. "Password?"

"Kelpie," Jessica said.

The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall, through which first Jessica climbed through, then her brother, and then each of the first years in turn. They entered a large room decorated primarily with red and gold. There were chintz armchairs by a roaring fire, which were occupied by two people at that moment, talking in whispers.

With a nervous glance, the girls separated from the boys and followed Jessica up a spiral staircase. Rose gave Albus a last smile of farewell and darted away.

The boys followed John up a separate spiral staircase. Through the window they passed on the way, Albus could see they were very high in the castle, undoubtedly in one of the towers. John led the group of boys to a door, the third one on their left, and departed to his own dormitory.

Albus was surprised to find his trunk already at the foot of his bed; he had never bothered to ask his father how his luggage got there after leaving it to get on the boats. He walked over to his four-poster, which was draped with velvet red curtains. He glanced around at the other boys in the room, who were also taking in their surroundings.

"This is nice, is it not?" said Darren, who had the bed to Albus's left.

Albus merely nodded, still slightly bitter toward Darren for his open flirtation with Rose. He was very defensive of her, and suddenly felt the need to protect her from this boy that was trying to get close to her.

"I like it," said a tall black boy to Albus's right. "I'm Marcus Shacklebot, by the way."

"Al Potter."

"Darren Knight."

"Josh Hastings." Josh was a tall blond boy, very tan with charming blue eyes.

"Brandon Fields." Brandon had a slightly muscular build, as though he did a fair bit of working out, with matching brown hair and eyes.

"I suppose we shall be seeing one another quite frequently then," said Darren with a smile.

"Yeah, don't we all have the same classes together too?" asked Marcus.

"Yes," said Albus, recalling something his father had said to him. "We don't get to choose our classes until third year."

"Bummer," said Josh, falling onto his bed and throwing his arms behind his head. "It's gonna suck if we don't get along."

"Don't start thinking negatively!" said Marcus immediately, taking a seat on his bed and looking closer at it. "We've got two years of each other, let's not start it off bad. That won't bode well for any of us."

Albus privately agreed and resisted the urge to look pointedly at Darren.

"We ought to get some sleep," said Darren, pulling out his pajamas from his trunk. "I doubt tomorrow will be pleasant for us."

Seeing the wisdom in his words, the boys began changing clothes, Albus's thoughts on the boy next to him. What was so great about him? Rose had gotten all flushed like she'd never seen anything like him. He was a prat, and that was all. He was pale, so pale Albus wouldn't have been surprised if he started glowing in the dark. To top that, he had dark hair combed to perfection; it must've taken him hours of staring at himself in the mirror to get it that perfect, not a hair out of place.

Albus shut the curtains around himself and curled up in his four-poster, which was surprisingly warm from the moment he touched it. He tried to relax himself, let the warmth flow through him and calm his mind. There was a lot to be happy about – he was in Gryffindor, for one.

"Brave, like your father… I see you have a lot of your father in you…"

A smile curled Albus's lips as he drifted off to sleep.