After another relentless day of classes and a tiring evening attempting homework, Albus still hadn't finished everything he was assigned to do. Darren, who had finished it all after an hour of work today, had taken to reading a book by the fire, flipping through it half-heartedly as though he'd already read it a million times. Albus took to frequently glaring at him when Darren wasn't looking. It made him feel better.

Despite not being done with his homework, when Rose stretched and put her quill down – a telltale sign that she was finished with her work – Albus asked if she wanted to go to the library to research.

"Al," she said in that annoying tone she picked up from her mother, "you've still got a lot of work to do. I won't be the one to take you away from it."

"Rose," he said in an equally annoying voice, "I'll get it done. Before it's due. I swear. It's just if I look at this parchment for one more minute, I'm going to go mad." Rose opened her mouth to object, but Albus plowed on. "How about this?" He put his own quill down, shut his book, and stood up. "I'm going to the library. You can't stop me. If you want to come with me to do some research, that's great. If not, I'm still not doing my homework, so your moral outrage is useless."

Rose glowered for a few moments, but then sighed. Albus grinned. Rose's curiosity had to be killing her too.

"Shall I accompany you then?" Darren asked quietly from the chair by the fire.

Albus jumped; he had nearly forgotten Darren was there.

"No, that's quite all right," Rose said, surprising Albus. Rose seemed to like Darren as far as he could tell. "I think this is something Al and I should do on our own, if you know what I mean. You know something I have been curious about, though? I heard some older students talking about the kitchens, and my mother has asked to check on the situation of the house-elves. Do you think you could try and find it for me? It would be a big help."

Darren looked inquisitively at Rose for a moment for giving an uncertain smile. "Certainly, if that is what you wish."

"Thanks," Rose said, and she grabbed Albus by the sleeve and nearly dragged him out of the common room.

"What was that about?" Albus said, pulling away from her death grip. "He could've come, I don't care."

"If I was only looking up our parents, I wouldn't have really minded either. He probably would be a big help."

"Then what's wrong with him coming?"

"I just… don't want him there right now, okay?"

Albus raised his hands in surrender. There was no point in arguing the point with Rose. It would only lead them into an argument, and he needed her help to find the library.

When they reached the library, Albus noticed a stern-looking woman standing behind the counter. Rose whispered that was Madam Pince, and that as long as they didn't mess up any books or make any noise, they would get along fine. Albus's first impression was that she was the type of woman who could be a real pain if angered. He made a mental note to keep his voice down whenever here and followed Rose, who was looking over the aisles critically. She walked for a few moments before her expression lightened and she walked down one of the aisles, now looking curiously at the books.

"Is this where we should be?" Albus, who had never been in a library in his life, knew nothing about how books were organized.

"Yes," Rose whispered back. "This and the next seven aisles down are about famous people in wizarding history."

Albus's jaw dropped. "The next seven… aisles?"

When Rose did nothing but give him a stern look, Albus sighed and peered at the books despairingly, hoping for some sign as to which of them held information on his father. He glanced at the titles; they seemed to be alphabetized. With not much hope, he left the aisle he was in and traveled down to Aisle 3, which held the Hs. He glanced over the titles of a few books, and his jaw dropped once again. He had not expected to find any books with his father's name, but he gazed upon at least ten volumes starting with "Harry Potter," whether it was Harry Potter: The Tragic Childhood and Heroic Life or Harry Potter and the Defeat of the Dark Lord.

On another hunch, he ran down to Aisle 6, where the Ps were. There were at least another five books here: Potter's Story (Including the Article Discussing You-Know-Who's Return Published in the Quibbler) and Potter: An Abused Hero among them. Just as Albus was putting all this information into his head, Rose came up to him and handed him a book: The Dangerous Life of a Hero: A Biography of Harry Potter. Albus's eyes bulged. Not only were there the books that started with H and P, but there would be others scattered in between, like this one, a D.

Albus dejectedly took the book Rose had handed him to the nearest table and sat down, positioning his arm so that it supported his head. Somehow, seeing all these books with his father's name on it put it into perspective for him. The entire world knew his father's secret, but Albus had been kept out of the loop. It was like some sick, twisted joke. And now he was going to find out his father's entire life story – from a man he didn't even know, from a man who knew more about Albus's father than Albus himself did. He clenched his hand into a fist. This wasn't right! How could this be real?

Rose sat herself across from him, looking into his eyes. They exchanged the same look of disbelief, sharing the incredulousness for a few moments. Then she broke their gaze and opened her book to the first chapter, letting her eyes soak up the words on its pages. Albus flipped open his own book and sifted through the first few pages, letting his gaze rest on the chapter heading. A Family Murdered.

He only needed to glance through the first few sentences to get the gist, to make sure the heading wasn't misleading in any way. He sat back in his chair, already overwhelmed. So his grandparents had been murdered by this Dark Lord? Why hadn't he known? Albus could only remember asking about his grandparents a few times, and every time his father would say, "They died a long time ago, before you were born." He'd usually add something else to the end of the sentence that would take Albus's mind off the subject, like, "It's a shame they didn't meet you, they'd be so proud! You did an excellent job flying yesterday! Did James teach you how to spin without falling?"

Rose looked up, examining the look on his face. "Already? You haven't even flipped the page."

Albus took so long to answer, Rose had already turned back to her book to continue reading.

"I want to know about him," Albus said slowly. "I want to know what really happened in his life, not because he kept them from me, but because he's my dad. Because I used to want to be like him. But I don't want to be like a liar. I don't want to be like a person who can so easily lie about the most important parts of his life."

Rose paused for a moment. "And just what are the important parts of a person's life?"

Albus sensed something in her tone that he didn't like. "I'd say the life-changing events that made him who is are pretty important!"

"But really, Al, isn't that what's important?" Rose said quietly. "Isn't who he is more important that what made him that way? As long as he hasn't been faking his personality and lying about loving you, isn't that what is most important?"

"Who he is, Rose," Albus said acidly, "is a liar. And that's what I have a problem with."

Rose opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, then closed it and put her nose back in her book.

Albus glared at her for a few more moments, rocking on the hind legs of the chair he was sitting in. Then he slammed the book shut and stood up, muttering something about going back to the common room. Rose gazed helplessly after him as he left her behind, but he never turned back.

The raven-haired boy took his time walking around the castle, aiming to eventually hit Gryffindor common room. Since he didn't know the way, however, he figured he had time to blow. He used it to fume, to seethe, to let his anger stir and brew. How was he ever going to manage to learn the truth about his father this way? If every little lie brought him to a boil, if every half-truth made him walk away, how could he get through the dozens of books on his father in that library?

Albus absentmindedly turned a corner, not paying attention to his surroundings. It was with astonishment that he noticed he wasn't alone in the corridor, and the person was mere feet from him. He glanced up, surprised.

"Oh. Hey."

"Hey," Valerie said casually. "Where you headed? I didn't think anything important was down this way."

"I'm… just wandering," Albus said truthfully. "I don't know how to get back to the common room." He paused. "If nothing's down this way, why are you here?"

Valerie grinned. "My secret base is here!"

Albus blinked. "Your what?"

Valerie pulled at his sleeve. "C'mon, I'll show you." As they walked, she kept talking. "Whenever I go new places, I find a secret base. You know, somewhere you can go in case you need to be alone. The problem with Hogwarts is that you a share a room with up to four other people, and there's almost always someone in the common room. So I had to find somewhere that nobody went."

They reached a classroom door and Valerie pulled it open, beckoning Albus inside. "I might have done a little after-hours sneaking around, but I finally found this place. You can see it's almost empty and even a little dusty, so I'm sure it hasn't been used for anything in ages. I guess it was an old classroom that they stopped using. They probably have too many, as big as this place is. Hey, what was your name again?"

Albus paused. "Albus Potter."

"Oh, right, you're the Potter," Valerie said. "I don't like the name Albus, though. Can you I call you something else?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I dunno," she said, sitting down on top of one of the few desks remaining, "I don't know you that well yet." She winked at him, then started carefully spinning herself in circles. "I'll come up with a good nickname for you, though, promise!"

"Right," Albus said wearily. This girl wasn't like Rose – she had more enthusiasm. Albus wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

"Heeeeey," said the dark-haired girl, stopping her spin, "you don't seem like you're doing so well. What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Albus said, brushing off her comment. He didn't really want to talk about it.

Valerie gave him a hard stare. "You know, 'fine' isn't really an emotion. It's one of those words people say to get out of a conversation with someone else because they don't want to talk about the problem or they're not comfortable with the person or something. But you know, it's okay to talk about stuff with me." She grinned at him, starting to spin once again. "I'm the best listener ever."

Albus didn't believe that for a second. She talked way too much to ever shut her mouth. "Really, I'm okay."

"Really, you're a liar," she said, continuing to spin and to smile.

That struck a cord with Albus. He fought conflicting emotions of anger and sorrow. He didn't want to be like his father, he didn't want to be a liar, but he couldn't deny that the girl's words were true. Was it really that obvious that something had upset him?

With a sigh, he took a seat on top of a desk across from Valerie, kicking his feet in the air. "I'm not a liar," he said softly. "There is something bothering me."

"Yeah?" The girl paused facing away from Albus, then leaned back so that she was looking at him upside down. "What's wrong?"

Albus looked sideways at her. "You know, I still might not want to talk to you about my problems."

Valerie grinned, which made Albus want to turn his head so he could see her properly. It looked weird upside down; still, he resisted the urge. "You don't have to talk to me, but why not? I'm just some weird girl in your year. It's not like I know whoever is causing you the problem – unless it's Rose, and then I still don't really know her. I don't think she likes me." She stuck her tongue out playfully. "She's very down-to-earth, and I'm very in-the-clouds."

"What's that matter?"

"It's everything, silly! Talking about your problems makes you feel better. And talking about it to a total stranger who won't judge you or anyone else involved is the perfect venting strategy."

"Except you're not a total stranger. I'll have classes with you for the next seven years."

"I'll tell you what," Valerie said, sitting up straight and facing Albus. Her finger was raised like she was making a point as she spoke. Albus wanted to laugh; she was very strange. "If you spill your guts to me and feel totally awkward after, we don't have to be friends. I won't talk to you or Rose again. So no harm done! I'll be like a complete stranger!"

Albus stared at her, his brows furrowed. He really didn't understand this girl, but she was so determined to get him to talk. He supposed he could tell her; it's not like it was a big secret or anything. The big secret was the one kept from him. "Deal."

He peered up at the ceiling for a minute, still kicking his feet against the air. "Well… you know how my dad is super famous?"

"Yeeeeah…" Valerie said, prolonging the word.

"Well… I didn't know. My parents and Rose's parents were in this big conspiracy to keep it from us until we got to Hogwarts. In Potions the other day with Slughorn? That was the first time I heard he defeated a Dark Lord. I mean, I knew he was an Auror so he tracked and fought bad wizards all the time, but nothing on the scale of saving the world from the ultimate villain."

Valerie remained silent, something that shocked Albus. Was she actually a good listener, or was this the exception rather than the rule?

"I'm just really upset. Anyone would be, I guess. I want to know why he never told me. Nev—Professor Longbottom has been a friend of the family for ages, but he said he was sworn to secrecy not to tell me. Even my brother, who's a huge troublemaker and rebel, is keeping his mouth shut. Everyone's telling me to write to my father to find out why. But I don't want to write to my father. I don't want to speak to him again. I don't understand how he can justify lying to me my whole life. I used to look up to him, but now I want nothing to do with him. I don't want to be like him, a liar."

Albus went silent. Valerie waited a minute to ensure he was finished before speaking. "So you lost your idol in one big blow. That must suck."

"It does," Albus agreed.

"That's totally not fair, though," she continued. "How could they let you come to Hogwarts not knowing? I mean, they at least should've told you the day before you came or something. That way you could ask all your questions then and at least be informed about your own family when you got here. And everyone's against you, not telling you anything you want to know. I'd be angry too if I was you. They left you to deal with something huge all on your own. That's not right."

Albus felt a surge of gratitude toward her. "Yeah, it's not right."

Valerie smiled. "Feel better now?"

Albus smiled too. "Not really. My problems haven't changed at all."

"But," she said, waggling her finger in the air again, seeing from his smile that his words weren't entirely true, "now you've got someone who knows the crap you're dealing with. If you ever need to rant again, feel free to pull me aside."

"Rose already knew what I am going through. She didn't know either."

The expression on Valerie's face wilted. "Oh… well… now someone on the outside knows! So even if Rose makes you angry, you can still come talk to me! You can't talk to Rose about that now, can you?"

He could, but trying to talk to Rose about her flaws was about a smart as taunting an angry manticore.

"I suppose not. Well, thanks, I guess," he said, standing.

"You're welcome!" she said cheerfully.

As he turned the handle for the door, Valerie's voice called after him. "Hey… do you still want to be my friend?"

Albus glanced back at her, a glimmer of a smile on his face. "Yeah, I guess."

The smile when he left filled Valerie's entire face.

It took him a long time to find the Gryffindor common room. He finally figured out what floor it was on with the help of some quarrelsome portraits, but the people in the paintings kept moving. He thought he found the right entrance to the common room several times, but no one was in the portrait to tell him if he was right or not. Finally, when the Fat Lady returned from a visit to her friend Violet, he provided the password and made his way inside. Darren was sitting in the same chair reading the same book as when they had left.

"Hello," he said softly, not looking up as Albus walked in. "Rose has been very worried about you. She said you left the library a long time ago."

"Oh, yeah… I got sidetracked."

"You were lost for so long?"

"Not exactly."

Darren sighed. "It does not matter. She will be pleased to hear that you are well."

"How are you going to tell her that? James said the staircase flattens when you try to go to the girls' dormitory."

Darren looked down to the floor where a black cat was curled up facing the fire. He stroked her back. "My cat is a female. She will deliver the message."

As though she knew he was talking about her, the cat peered blearily at Darren. He placed a note in her mouth and whispered Rose's name. The cat stretched, then pranced off to the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"Shall we retire?" Darren asked, closing his book soundlessly.

"Uh, sure," Albus said. He walked over to the staircase and climbed up the steps, then proceeded into his room. The other three boys were already asleep – or at the very least had already shut themselves inside their curtains. Albus changed and collapsed on the bed, not realizing until he lay there just how tired he was. It had been a long day. Classes were never-ending and his search in the library hadn't gone nearly as smoothly as he'd hoped. This was going to take some mental preparation. But how could he prepare himself for a truth he didn't want to believe?

Albus knew his father had lied to him. Too many people spoke about the great Harry Potter, the hero Harry Potter. All the same, he wished that when he woke up tomorrow, he'd find that everything had simply been a dream. That his father was still the heroic figure to Albus that he had been for the last eleven years. It gave him a feeling of security to believe that he and his father had such a tight bond, that they could talk about anything. He wanted that relationship back.

It sort of felt like Harry Potter had stolen his father. Albus had never thought of his dad as Harry Potter; sure, he knew that his father's name was Harry Potter, but they seemed separate at the same time. The man named Harry Potter was Albus's father first and foremost – his dad, his best friend. But now they seemed to be two separate identities more than ever. What had happened to Albus's dad, the kind, trustworthy man he had come to admire, to idolize? And why did this Harry Potter of legend have to take him away, to twist him into a despicable liar? It wasn't fair.

All Albus had ever wanted was a normal year at Hogwarts – just like his dad always had. Except now Albus knew that his father had never had a normal year at Hogwarts. He'd practically been born a legend. Everything his father had ever said about his time at Hogwarts was probably a lie.

It didn't look like Albus was going to have a normal year at Hogwarts, but if the first three days were any indication, it did seem like it would be the same kind of year as his father's.