Albus (A Next Generation Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Not Gryffindor

Albus didn't move. There had to be a mistake, there had to be. Everyone was in Gryffindor. He couldn't be in Slytherin. He couldn't.

His eyes met James', who was staring at him as he sat, emptily moving to cover the space he had saved for Albus. Faintly, in the back of his head, he could hear clapping- no, cheering- from the Slytherin table on the far side of the hall. He felt his legs slowly stand, as if they knew their fate, and walk even more slowly over to the other side. The wrong side. Rose's eyes followed him from the crowd of first-years still waiting, and he could feel hundreds of others watching, in shock, as his heart sank slowly lower and lower, approaching the Slytherin table. He sat down in disbelief, as the sorting continued, just like that. He'd been put into completely and utterly the wrong house, and they didn't even stop to question it?

Someone patted him on the back, welcoming. Welcome to Slytherin.

The boy sat next to him turned around, giving him a blank look. Al recognised him from earlier. He wasn't the Malfoy boy; he was sat further up, already surrounded by cronies. "You're Harry Potter's son, aren't you?" the boy asked.

Al nodded. He wasn't really in the mood to chat. He felt like he'd let down his entire family, the Potter legacy. Famous Harry Potter and his friends in Gryffindor, everyone in Gryffindor helping defeat Voldemort, everyone in Slytherin getting in their way. Albus' whole family, cousins and all, in Gryffindor, all except him. He tried desperately not to look too ungrateful as the meal appeared in front of him. He ate quickly and even managed to force a couple of smiles at the girl from the carriage, Matilda, who as expected was sorted into Slytherin shortly after he was. She was nice, at least. He could befriend her until they sorted him into the correct house, as by the end of the meal and introductions he had already decided exactly what to say in a letter to his father. He knew Dad could get him into Gryffindor, even if they had to bribe the hat to do it.

"I'm so glad I wasn't the only one," Matilda was saying as they were led down to the Slytherin common room. Albus stared at the bleak walls of the dungeon, as dank as some of the wizards who had been raised down here. No wonder Slytherin was considered the bad house. "But I know you, like, really wanted to be in Gryffindor," she continued. "Are you okay with it?"

Albus looked into her grey-blue eyes, swallowing. "Yeah, I guess," he lied. Up ahead, he saw the Bloody Baron, laughing his grey, sallow laugh as he watched the first-years take twists and turns into the depth of the castle.

After another few lefts and rights Al knew he would forget soon, they reached a dark wooden door just past a large stone wall. Although similar fires to what he saw earlier were present, they hardly lit up the dark corridor. They were so deep in the castle that light wasn't much of an option anymore. There was no portrait or anything on the door, instead it was simply dark. Just like everything else in Slytherin. Albus already missed James, Sam and Rose. They would be by the fire in the Gryffindor common room right now, getting to know the place they'd be sure to grow up in, probably wondering why Albus was such a let down. This was exactly what he'd dreaded all his life.

"Pure blood," said the Slytherin prefect, whose name Al didn't know and didn't care for. The door opened. Albus felt sick. Next to him, Matilda coughed slightly, looking uncomfortable as he followed her through into the Slytherin common room.

Inside, the common room looked like a perfectly normal place, with couches and sofas and a roaring fire, but it was the green drapes and snake shield high on the wall for everyone to see that gave it away. Al followed the crowd humbly, the whole time completely aware of the whispers and sniggers directed at him. The fire flickered in his eyes as he zoned out, watching the wisps of smoke escape up the chimney and into the room, running away from the whole room. The furniture seemed to scream at him that he didn't belong here. What seemed absolutely the last straw was the there were no windows considering how far down they were. It was a miracle light was able to break into the darkness at all.

"First year boy's dormitories down to the end of that corridor. Girl's is the same, but on the right of the boy's. Welcome to the Slytherin common room," the prefect said, grinning, before dispersing along with a few other older boys to wander off about the castle. The first-years wished each other goodnight (even though they hadn't done much all day, the travelling had tired them all out completely). Al kept his head down as he went to follow the boys.

"Hey, Potter!" he heard behind him. Some older boys were draped over the table and chairs behind him, their green robes blending in with the overall colour scheme. They could be 4th or 5th years, Albus had no idea.

"What does your Daddy think about you getting put in Slytherin?" one of them sneered. "Bet he won't like it,"

Albus rolled his eyes at them blatantly. "He won't care," he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

One of the boys approached him slowly, his pale hands clutching the side of his robe, and his crooked teeth stapled in a grin. Albus backed away, almost tripping over a pouffe that sat very much in the way. The boy laughed cockily. "Don't worry, Potter. I'm just being friendly," he grimaced, holding out his hand with unnaturally long spindly fingers out for Al to shake.

"Leave him alone," came a high pitched voice from behind him. Albus turned around, surprised that someone would bother to stick up for him, but was even more surprised when he saw who. Scorpius Malfoy stood there, short and wimpy but respected by the older boys, who immediately backed off. 

Malfoy flicked his slimy white hair out of his eye and gestured towards the corridor, his face set in a sneer at his older friends, and yet not to Albus. It crossed his mind that the grimace might just be his face, but he sure looked like his father, Draco. Albus followed him down the corridor, through the cold, narrow doors into a room with about five beds in, and a few other first-year boys already sat down with their things.

He saw Jasper, his snow-white owl in his cage next to a spare bed, with Slytherin robes laid out for him to wear the next day. He sat down on the dark green blanket, Malfoy standing over him, but almost in a friendly way. "Don't mind McGregor. He's a real dick,"

Albus might have smiled a little. "Nobody really expected me to be in Slytherin," he said quietly, hoping the other boys wouldn't hear. He suddenly noticed there was a window, but as it was on the ground floor there wasn't really any view. Still, the air would be nice, and he could send Jasper out with a letter to his father later that evening.

"No, they didn't," Malfoy said. "Sorry about when I shoved on the train, by the way. Didn't mean to." He sat down on the bed opposite Al, who had completely forgotten about the little blonde boy that had barged past him when he was looking out the window. It was decent of Scorpius to apologise, and Albus was a little chuffed in that Scorpius didn't seem nearly as bad as his father was supposed to be.

"Wasn't trying to shove you, I was aiming to get past that Weasley girl. My father said her family's a bunch of dirty Muggle-loving airheads and that I'm not allowed to go near them," he said, flopping down on the bed as if he owned the place.

Realising Malfoy was talking about his cousin, Rose, he reconsidered his opinion. Maybe they wouldn't get along so well.