Albus Potter and the Hidden Tower

Chapter One: Exordium Novum

Albus tapped his foot rapidly as his father cruised down the road. The rolling hills and fields were their only company, save for the occasional cow or horse. His mother had stayed behind at Diagon Alley to round up James and Lily after Albus got his wand, and Albus had begged to come back in the car with his father. He liked car rides, especially if his Uncle Ron or Aunt Hermione weren't driving. Something about the motions of the car, the open road, and the rolling countryside was peaceful. It was a bonus that his brother, James, hated car rides as much as Albus enjoyed them.

Harry glanced at his son. "Having fun?"

"Mmhm." Albus nodded, matching each beat of the car bouncing on the road to his foot tapping. "It's quiet."

Harry chuckled. "Yes, it is."

Albus's wand vibrated in his pocket along with the thrum of the engine. It was like a great big question mark sitting there, one that Albus already knew the answer to. He asked, anyways. "When can I do magic?"

"When you go to school, you know this. You're not allowed to do underage magic."

"Yeah, but Aurora said that people normally do magic when they get their wands."

Aurora Ollivander had assured him that his wand was the one, but it hadn't done any magic when he held it. In fact, Albus had felt somewhat stupid. He'd expected a shower of sparks or something.

"I trust Aurora, just as much as I trusted her grandfather," said Harry. "If she's sure it's the one, then I am, too."

"What did your wand do?"

"When I got it?" Harry shrugged. "Not much. There was this big gust of wind, but I didn't care about that, really. There was something else, this feeling. Like I knew that it was mine, really mine. You'll have that, don't worry," Harry said quickly after Albus's face turned pale. "When you start really learning magic, it's the best thing in the world."

"I wanna learn to drive, too," Albus said. "That doesn't take magic, does it?"

"No, but you have to wait another four years."

Albus groaned. "Four years?"

"It's not like you can sit on my lap anymore."

Albus remembered. They went on little drives near the house when he was younger, and Albus would practically stand on his father's legs and turn the wheel—or at least, pretend to turn the wheel as Harry's hands guided his own. "I could try."

"Please, no."

Albus slouched. "Four years can't come soon enough."

Harry laughed again. "Don't say that just yet."