Albus Potter and the Cursed Legacy | Scorbus

9. Potions

Albus was seven years old when he first came home from primary school crying. The young boy stepped in the door, with tears falling down his rosy cheeks. He dropped his bag and coat on the ground, running into his father's arms, seeking his comfort and warmth.

"Some kids at school made fun of me," Albus said through heavy sniffles and gasping breaths.

"Made fun of you?" A wave of shock and anger washed over Harry, "Why would they make fun of you?" He couldn't bear the thought of someone hurting his child, physically or emotionally. It sickened him. His kids were so small and innocent, their pain was his pain. He'd do just about anything to keep his kids safe, even if it meant giving his own life.

"They said my n-name is weird."

Harry frowned. As much as he hated the thought, he knew well enough that a scenario like this would happen eventually. After he and Ginny decided to send the kids to muggle primary school instead of tutoring them at home, he expected that Albus would be questioned about his unique name. Wizards understood the Al' legacy, but muggles? Muggles had no idea. To them, Al was just some kid with a funny name.

"Come sit," Harry led his son to the dining table. He went to the kitchen to grab some biscuits and placed them in front of Albus as he took a seat across from him. Despite his tears, the young boy gladly snatched one up.

"Albus Severus Potter," Harry began, emphasizing each name individually. "it's a very special name. I chose it because it holds a great amount of meaning to me. Do you know who you were named after?"

Albus shrugged, biscuit crumbs falling down his chin. He used the back of his hand to wipe his tear-stained cheeks.

"Albus Dumbledore, the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen--perhaps even the greatest wizard in history."

"The old guy? I've seen him on chocolate frog cards." Albus perked up slightly, knowing his name must have been important if he shared it with someone famous enough to be on a chocolate frog card.

Harry grinned, "Exactly. He helped me a lot when I was in school. Taught me things. Believed in me. Trusted me. And for that, I named you after him. Without his guidance, I don't know if we could have defeated Voldemort in the way we did."

Albus followed every word, nibbling on biscuits but his wide eyes focused on Harry.

"Severus Snape. He was quite the man, to say the least," Harry chuckled under his breath. "I didn't always like him. He was my teacher, you know, the potions master. I always disliked potions and was never all that good at it. I thought Snape hated me, and, perhaps, he did to some degree. But it wasn't until he was killed by Voldemort that I realised Snape had always protected me. And to honour that, I gave you his name." Harry looked across the table at his son.

Albus was always going to be a baby in Harry's eyes. It seemed like hardly any time had passed since he was spending long sleepless nights up in the nursery, cradling the dark haired boy. How had seven years passed already? Albus was no longer an infant but now almost a spitting image of his father at that age. Same touseled hair, thin frame, and heart-shaped face. The only difference seemed to be the lack of a lightning scar--the sign of a childhood less troubled than Harry's own.

"You were named after two great and powerful wizards and the muggle kids at school don't understand that. But your name is something to be proud of. So next time they make fun of you, just hold your head high and remember that I told you, okay?" Harry finished, reaching out to squeeze his son's crumb covered hands.

Sometimes Harry wondered if the name he had chosen would put too much of a burden upon the child. He was such a small boy and it seemed like such a great weight to place upon someone so small who knew nothing yet of the world and its dangers.