The Wrongs of the Past

ONE

Albus Severus Potter

Albus didn't know what he expected, silence maybe? Horrified gasps, pitchforks and torches, a mob? What he didn't expect was for the hall to erupt into cheers, just like any other sorting, the Slytherin table hollering the loudest. Of course, there was still that low buzz of voices whispering furiously, an undercurrent of disbelief to the applause. But he ignored it; he was used to whispers.

The Gryffindor House was more subdued in their celebration, looks of uncertainty and confusion donning most of their faces. As soon as Albus's last name had hit their ears, they'd all immediately prepared for a new member to join their ranks. After all, surely any child of Harry Potter's was a Gryffindor, through and through.

Albus made his unsteady way towards his new house, legs turned to jelly as the adrenaline all but vanished from his veins. With a reluctance he didn't show, he looked up from his feet to smile at his brother as he passed. James Sirius Potter's face had turned an unhealthy shade of beetroot, as his cinnamon eyes regarded his younger brother with something akin to betrayal in their depths. Albus flinched away from that look, knowing how excited James was to finally have Albus by his side again. Sure, the eldest Potter child had groaned on about having to show him and Rose the ropes but underneath all that bluster had been a gruff happiness.

Hurrying past the other two tables, ignoring the whispers that erupted behind him, Albus all but threw himself onto the Slytherin bench, squeezing in between a first year girl with incredibly large, blue eyes and a seventh year boy who clapped him on the back with a warm smile. He gave the boy a wobbly smile back.

"Hey! Glad you joined us, Albus." He said, putting the smaller boy a little more at ease. "I'm Roman, by the way, Roman Levesque, I'm your Head Prefect." As Prefects go, Roman seemed pretty laid back. Albus had heard horror stories about the time his Uncle Percy had been a Prefect.

"It's n-nice to meet you." Albus murmured back shyly, silently cursing himself. What was all that about changing Slytherin for the good? I can't even get through a conversation without stuttering, for Merlin's sake.

He realised he was missing the rest of the ceremony and hastily turned back to the front in time to see Cynthia Punnett, a girl with glossy black pigtails, skip over to the Gryffindor table. A sharp blade of envy twisted Albus's gut as Cynthia slid into the spot next to James, who high fived her enthusiastically.

The next person to be sorted into Slytherin was a thin looking boy with curly brown hair and glasses called Simon Vermain, who tripped over his too long robes on the way there and fell on his face. Albus scooted over so the blushing boy could slide into place beside him, offering him a tentative smile.

"Hello," Albus said quietly, determined not to blunder through this conversation. "My name's Albus. Albus Potter." The skinny boy turned an alarming shade of pink, brown eyes wide with awe behind his glasses as he gazed back at Albus with shock.

"Oh. Oh. H-hi, I'm Simon Vermin- Vermain! Simon Vermain. Not Vermin. I'm not a rat, obviously, not that I have anything against rats. It's just, well, I'm not a rat, I don't have whiskers... But there was that one time my brother... Well you can see I'm not a rat. I'm human, I talk like a human, act like a human, I have all of a human's... appendages-" Albus couldn't help but burst out laughing. The boy was talking about his appendages.

"It's okay, Simon Who Is Most Definitely Not A Rat. I believe you," the young Potter chuckled, green eyes sparkling with mirth. Simon, who had gone from pink to tomato red, managed to produce a smile at the sight of Albus's warm one, the boy's enthusiasm was catching. Soon they were both sniggering into their hands, spluttering about rats and appendages. Albus was starting to feel that tingly excitement he'd had before the whole Sorting Hat Catastrophe, but it was swept away in a river of tension as the next name was called.

"Rose Weasley."

Albus's cousin stepped up to the stool, flaming red hair tied back from her face and a determined tilt to her pointed chin. Rose had always intimidated him, she was loud, opinionated and bossy always the leader in their childhood games, always the winner, always the best. Albus didn't know how old he was when Rose decided their lives were a competition, but from a very young age the two were rivals of a sort. The only difference between their rivalry was that Albus didn't really care who won, it was all just a game to him but for Rose, it was deadly serious. Albus remembered, with a sick feeling in his stomach, the time Rose turned drawing into a competition and had thrown all his Instant-Sharp-Crayons into the pigsty when Teddy had said Albus's was better. He had an uneasy feeling she would do the same here.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The room erupted into cheers, but Albus sat, chilled to the bone. Because Rose was looking at him with a very deliberate smile, as if to say "That's how you're supposed to do it Little Albus Sevvie", before she flounced down to take her place among the Gryffindors. With a pang, Albus realised she looked like she belonged there, as if she were born to be there. Bowing his head glumly, Albus didn't look up from his empty plate for the rest of the sorting.