Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Nightmares and New Beginnings
Albus' POV
Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin.
He kept repeating the words over and over in his head, trying to calm himself. He could not get sorted into Slytherin; he just couldn’t.
Albus rolled over and stared at his bedroom walls. They were scarlet red, just like the walls in his parents’ bedroom and the walls in his siblings’ bedrooms. It was the color of Gryffindor house, the house that both his parents, his older brother, and almost everyone else in his family had been sorted into.
Everyone was certain that Albus, too, would be sorted into Gryffindor. Everyone but his brother James and himself.
“James is just joking,” he told himself for the umpteenth time. “There’s no way I’ll get sorted into any other house.”
He drew in a shaky breath and forced himself to close his eyes. Tomorrow, at this time, he would be in the dormitory of the first-year Gryffindor boys, sleeping soundly in one of the four-poster beds his dad had described to him so often.
Tossing and turning, Albus finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
“Potter, Albus!” the Hat called.
Albus stepped forward with shaky legs. He felt over a hundred pairs of eyes on him. His name was being whispered from every corner of the Great Hall. The voices seemed to get louder and louder as he made his way up to the Sorting Hat.
He sat down on the old wooden stool, and the voices around him immediately fell silent. A dark figure behind him stepped closer and placed the Sorting Hat on Albus’ head.
“Ahh, another Potter, yes?” a voice whispered into his ear. “But you are different, aren’t you? You are weak.”
Albus shuddered. “I'm not weak,” he said, though his words were barely audible.
“You are not as brave as your father or your brother, that’s for sure,” the Hat said. “You are not a true Gryffindor. You are evil... and we both know what that means...”
“No! Please, I am not evil! I can be good, please!”
“Albus!” someone said firmly. “Albus, wake up!”
He kept screaming. The Hat was still over his eyes; everything was dark. The darkness was so heavy that he thought he might suffocate.
“Albus, open your eyes,” the voice said.
Slowly, he did as he was told. He was in his room again, his scarlet red room, and his dad was towering over him, holding his arms down. He tried to rip his hands out of his father’s grasp and realized that he was thrashing around in his bed. As soon as he realized this, he stopped.
He felt his cheeks growing hot and turned his head to the wall, avoiding his dad’s worried gaze. After a brief moment of silence, Harry let go of his wrists and reached up to ruffle Albus’ already messy mop of black hair.
The gentle gesture prompted Albus to look up and meet his father’s bright green eyes.
“Sorry,” Albus mumbled. Shivering slightly, he sat up and backed away from his dad to lean against the wall.
“You don’t need to apologize for having a nightmare, Al.” Harry said quietly.
“Did I wake everyone up?” Albus asked, blushing again.
“No,” Harry lied. “They’re all still asleep. I just didn’t feel like going to bed early today.”
“I know I shouldn’t still have nightmares,” Albus muttered. Still avoiding his dad’s gaze, he reached up and rubbed his swollen, red eyes, trying to hide the tears that were now running down his face.
“Why do you say that?”
Albus had always been the most sensitive out of all his children, and Harry, who still had trouble coping with his emotions post-war, had no problem relating to his son in situations like this one.
“I’m eleven,” Albus said, as if that would explain everything.
“So what?” Harry said slowly, carefully considering his every word. “I still have nightmares, and I am way over thirty, Al.”
“Really?” Albus asked, disbelief written all over his face.
“Really,” Harry said, and reached out to pull Albus over to where he was sitting. He wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and placed a kiss on his head, something that he knew Albus would never have allowed if either of his siblings had been present in that moment.
“What was your dream about?” Harry asked, although he thought that he already knew the answer.
Albus looked at him for a moment, and Harry felt as if Albus was considering whether or not he should be honest with him.
“I won’t tell your mum,” Harry reassured him. “And I won’t tell James, either,” he added, when Albus still didn’t look convinced.
“It was about Hogwarts,” Albus admitted. “I got sorted into Slytherin again.”
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his own raven-black hair. Grey streaks were starting to appear near his temples.
“I told you that your mum and I don’t care in which house you will be sorted,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time.
It was true; he and Ginny had sat down with Albus multiple times to talk about his fears. It had all started on Albus’ eleventh birthday when his Hogwarts letter had arrived. Ever since that day, James had been teasing his little brother about the possibility that Albus might get sorted into Slytherin.
“I know you said that you don’t care,” Albus said, and to Harry’s surprise, he sounded frustrated now, “But I care. I don’t want to be in his house.” he whined.
Harry didn’t have to ask to know who Albus was reffering to. Lord Voldemort had been dead for over a decade now, and yet the children of today knew his name just as well as he had known it when he was eleven. The only difference, when Harry thought about it, was that now nobody was afraid of the name.
“Voldemort was not the only Slytherin student who ever lived,” Harry chuckled. “There are good and bad people in every house. Do you remember the time I told you about a man named Peter Pettigrew?” he asked. “He was a Gryffindor, but he was neither brave, nor was he a good person.”
He pulled Albus closer and felt his son leaning into him. “Your Hogwarts house doesn’t define you, Al,” he said. “The Sorting can tell you a lot about your values and your traits, but it doesn’t change who you are as a person. It doesn’t make you good or bad, do you understand?” he asked.
“But what if the Hat really does put me in Slytherin?” Albus asked, his voice still full of doubt.
“Then Slytherin house will have gained an amazing new student,” Harry said simply, and had to suppress a laugh when he saw Albus’ shocked but relieved face.
“And if it's really that important to you, you can ask for Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat will take your choice into consideration.”
“Really?”
“It did for me,” Harry smiled and ruffled his son’s hair again.
“Try to get some sleep,” Harry said. “And try not to worry too much about the Sorting.”
He helped Albus lay down again and pulled the comforter, that Molly had knitted for him, up to his chin.
Albus nodded and closed his eyes. He felt his father place a kiss on his forehead and heard him walk to the door.
“Good night,” Harry said before switching the lights off again with a wave of his wand.
“Night, dad.” Albus said. “Thank you.”
“Always, Albus.”
________________________________________
The next morning was a very hectic one in the Potter household.
Ginny and Harry had made sure that both of their sons’ trunks were already packed the evening before they would leave for Hogwarts, but as expected, their departure was nothing short of chaotic. James had unpacked his entire trunk about five times, claiming that he wasn’t sure whether or not he had packed his broom care kit. In the end, he had been so unnerved by the whole situation that he accused Lily of hiding it.
As a result, Lily had run straight to Ginny, who promptly put an end to the siblings’ quarrel by threatening to take James’s broom away at once if he didn’t get his temper under control. Albus had barely said a word all morning long. He hadn’t touched his toast during breakfast and had more or less withdrawn into his room after his parents had excused him from the table. He heard Lily’s cries and his mother’s stern voice reprimanding his brother before a door was slammed shut, and it was quiet again for a short moment.
Albus sighed and knelt down next to his trunk. It was so full that he had barely been able to close it the previous evening, and yet he would still have to carry some of his belongings in his backpack on the way to the train station.
To be absolutely sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything, Albus began listing the trunk’s contents in his mind one more time: school robes, dragon hide gloves, telescope –
“Albus!” he heard his little sister’s voice coming from the hallway right in front of his room. “Where are-“
The door opened, and a young, red-headed girl entered the room, carrying a big purple cat on her arm. She crossed the room and wordlessly dropped her cat, Violetta, on Albus’ bed before kneeling down by his side.
Albus opened his mouth to say something to her when he noticed that there were streaks of dried tears on his sister’s cheeks.
“Don’t be sad about James, Lil. Whatever he said, I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” he said, trying to comfort her. “He’s just a bit stressed out right now.”
Lily looked confused for a moment, but then something seemed to click.
“Oh, that,” she said and waved her hand dismissively. “He lost his bloody broom care kit again.” She sighed and looked over her shoulder, as if she expected James to be standing in the door. “Turns out that it was still in the living room.”
“Hey, language,” Albus teased, even though he couldn’t suppress a smirk.
“You’re my brother, not my dad,” Lily shot back. “Anyway, that’s not why I was sad,” she said curtly.
Albus waited for her to continue talking, but Lily just sat next to him, staring resolutely at his trunk. Suddenly, it dawned on Albus...
“In two years, you can go too,” he tried to reassure her. “And I’ll write to you every week,” he added.
“I want to go now,” Lily said stubbornly. “First James and now you...”
“Oh, come on,” Albus laughed. “You’ll have mum and dad all to yourself. You’ll get even more attention than you already get now; it’ll almost be like you’re an only child.”
“As if,” Lily said bitterly. “Dad is barely home anyway, and mum will just be worried about you and James all the time.”
Albus knew that neither of the two statements were completely wrong, but he would never admit it.
He knew how worried his mum had been the previous year. Every few weeks, another letter from Hogwarts had arrived. James wasn’t exactly a troublemaker, but he did manage to get himself into some pretty risky situations every now and then. And of course, there were also a couple of Quidditch injuries that his parents had been informed about, even though none of them had been serious enough to land James in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
His father, on the other hand, had been on one Ministry mission after another. As the head of the Auror Department, it had always been common for him to get called away in the middle of the night. However, up until last year, those missions had neither taken longer than a few hours nor had they ever put his father in mortal danger.
This year, things seemed to be different. His father and uncle Ron would often get called away on Auror missions and not return for days or even weeks on end. When they would finally return, his father always wore an expression that was a mix of worry and defeat.
Albus forced himself to fake a smile and pulled Lily in for a short hug.
“Mum will calm down after a while,” he said. “And dad- “
“Will try to be home more often this year.”
The siblings turned around. Harry was standing in the door, smiling sadly at both of them. He crossed the short distance between them and crouched down next to Lily, who eyed him suspiciously.
“Are you and mum getting divorced?” she asked bluntly, and Albus noticed, not for the first time, that his sister looked exactly like their grandmother Molly when she got mad.
Harry, completely taken aback by the question, stared at her for a few short seconds before he composed himself enough to answer her.
“No, of course not,” he said. “What makes you think that?”
“Because you’re always at work, and because mum always looks sad,”
Harry frowned, and Albus had the impression that he didn’t quite know whether or not he should be honest with them or how much he should tell them.
“We are not getting divorced,” he said again. “Your mum and I are fine.”
“But then what’s the problem?” Lily asked. “What’s wrong?”
“There is no problem,” he reassured her. “Work has just been really busy.”
He pulled her up to her feet and ruffled her hair a bit, which earned him an angry glare from his daughter.
“Do me a favor and tell James that we’re leaving in ten minutes,” he said to Lily and turned around to look at Albus, who was still sitting on the floor.
“It’s the Death Eaters, right?” Albus asked once they were alone. “They’re coming together again.”
“I have something for you,” Harry said, instead of answering his son’s question. “It’s in the other room.”
Albus looked at his dad, puzzled, but stood up and followed Harry into his parents’ bedroom, where Harry opened the second drawer of the dresser right next to his bedside. He pulled out a shiny, silvery cloak that Albus recognized instantly.
His mouth dropped open, and he stared at his father with wide eyes. “Your Invisibility Cloak?” he asked, perplexed. “You’re giving it to me?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Harry said and handed Albus the cloak.
“But... wow, I mean... why?” Albus asked, running his fingers over the delicate fabric of the cloak. It felt like water in his hands.
“Well, I just thought that you might find it quite useful,” Harry said with a smile. “And I’ve become quite skilled at Invisibility Charms over the last few years, so I’ll be fine without it.”
Harry stared at the cloak for a moment, lost in memories. It had gotten him out of a lot of risky situations - situations he hoped Albus would never find himself in.
“There’s one condition, though,” Harry said and fixed Albus with a stern gaze. “You must never use it to sneak out of the castle - especially not at night. Stay safe.”
“I promise,” Albus said without hesitation. Harry nodded curtly and guided Albus out of the room with an arm around his shoulders.
“Dad,” Albus asked suddenly. “Why didn’t you give it to James?”
“Ah,” his father laughed. “I was considering it, to be honest with you, but as it turns out, James already stole a certain map from my office.”
________________________________________
King's Cross
Platform 9 ¾ was as crowded as ever. Owls were hooting, younger siblings were crying, and some of the older students were yelling across the platform in an attempt to find their friends, who they hadn’t seen all summer long.
Among them was James, who had taken off as soon as he had seen his third-year cousin, Louis Weasley, who was also a Gryffindor. Albus, on the other hand, preferred to stick by his parents’ side, even though he made sure there were at least a few paces between them so that none of his future schoolmates would think he was a baby right from the beginning.
“Where are they?” Lily asked impatiently.
She freed herself from Ginny, who had been holding her hand in order not to lose her in the crowd, and set off in the opposite direction. Moments later, she returned, followed by two other red-headed children and their parents, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley.
Albus’ cousin Rose, who was also starting school this year, was smiling from ear to ear, but Albus couldn’t help but notice that she, too, seemed quite nervous.
After they had all greeted each other, his father and uncle Ron started getting his and Rose’s trunks loaded onto the Hogwarts Express. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus could see aunt Hermione hugging his cousin tightly.
This is it, he thought. They would be leaving any moment now.
James returned, his pockets apparently full of dung bombs, which earned him a half-serious glare from aunt Hermione and a sly smile from his mother.
“You two,” Ginny said, eyeing her sons. “Try not to burn down the castle, and I’ll try to stop your father from burning down the kitchen.”
She pulled both of them in for a hug and then looked at James pointedly. “Help your brother,” she said. “And quit teasing him about Slytherin or your first letter from home will be a howler.”
James just grinned at her and gave Albus a pat on the shoulder. “He’ll be fine,” he said, and Albus thought that he might actually mean what he had said this time.
The minutes before their departure all seemed to blur. Albus tried to keep his face clear of any emotions and did his best to appear calm and collected.
“Remember what I told you yesterday,” his father said as he wrapped his arms around him one last time.
“Good luck, Albus,” Ginny whispered, and Albus could see the faintest trace of tears in her eyes.
Albus forced a smile and nodded to both of them.
And before he knew it, he was climbing onto the train, heading toward the next chapter of his life.