Albus Potter and Friends
On The Train
He could see his parents’ faces fade from view as the train gathered speed and left the station. With a quiet sigh, Albus Potter turned from the window at which he stood and made his way down the corridor, pushing past witches and wizards of all ages.
It was only a few more doors down the corridor when Albus found a suitable compartment, completely empty except for an owl cage somebody had obviously left behind. He heaved his trunk up onto the luggage rack before slumping down in the closest seat.
“God, Albus, I’d wondered where you’d gotten to.”
An ever familiar voice disrupted him from his short train of thoughts. Rose Weasley stood by the doorway, her dark red hair reflecting the light from the window behind her. She didn’t appear to be staying – unlike Albus, she was unaccompanied by a trunk.
“I just wanted to know if you wanted to come sit with me and a couple of other people – you look a bit lonely.”
The thought of having to meet more people so soon was enough to discourage the eleven year old. “Thanks Rose, but I’m fine here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself. But you can come up at anytime.”
Albus nodded his thanks and returned his gaze out the window as paddock after paddock flew by. He should’ve known Rose would make new friends quickly. She was so easy to get along with, after all.
His thoughts soon returned to the school he was soon to attend. Hogwarts was only a few hours away; and yet he still felt an unnerving lurch at the thought of going. And the Sorting Ceremony… what if he got into Slytherin? Both his parents had been in Gryffindor, as had Rose’s. His brother James, too, had been sorted into the same house. Albus didn’t know anyone from Slytherin, and nor did he want to meet them.
“Erm… can I just get – er, get my cage?”
Albus tore his gaze away from the window and saw a familiar boy standing tentatively by the door. He soon recognised the boy to be one from the train station – the one his uncle Ron had called Scorpius.
“What? Oh… yeah, sure.”
The boy smiled in thanks and edged forward, retrieving his cage from where it lay on the ground. “I’m Scorpius, by the way.” Albus noticed how much Scorpius’ hair resembled that of his father, Draco. He had heard his parents mention Draco Malfoy’s name before.
“I’m Albus. Albus Potter.” Albus gave a small smile, trying to judge whether Scorpius was indeed a friendly person.
“’Course you are,” the blonde boy replied, taking the seat opposite Albus and returning the smile. “You’re Harry’s son. My father talks about him sometimes.”
“Really?” Albus noticed the lack of awe in Scorpius’ voice. On the contrary, he found this comforting. Usually people found it interesting that he, Albus, was the son of the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort.
“Yeah,” Scorpius said casually. He gave a sigh. “Do you know which house you’ll be in?”
Albus shook his head, the uncomfortable weight in his stomach returning.
“Neither do I,” said Scorpius quietly, looking toward the ground. He looked to be nervous at the mere thought of going to Hogwarts. “My dad was in Slytherin.”
“Do you want to be in Slytherin?” asked Albus.
“I don’t know,” Scorpius replied. “I mean, Dad’s always going on about how good it is… but I don’t know why. The houses seem to be such a big deal.”
Albus nodded, not sure what to say. Thankfully, this moment was again interrupted by the arrival of a short plump old woman and a trolley, bearing every type of food imaginable. Scorpius had already jumped to his feet, looking delighted. “I’m starving…”
Albus, too, got up and looked toward the food. He was hungry despite the dull weight that had settled within him; maybe eating would distract him from his nerves.
It was only a few more doors down the corridor when Albus found a suitable compartment, completely empty except for an owl cage somebody had obviously left behind. He heaved his trunk up onto the luggage rack before slumping down in the closest seat.
“God, Albus, I’d wondered where you’d gotten to.”
An ever familiar voice disrupted him from his short train of thoughts. Rose Weasley stood by the doorway, her dark red hair reflecting the light from the window behind her. She didn’t appear to be staying – unlike Albus, she was unaccompanied by a trunk.
“I just wanted to know if you wanted to come sit with me and a couple of other people – you look a bit lonely.”
The thought of having to meet more people so soon was enough to discourage the eleven year old. “Thanks Rose, but I’m fine here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself. But you can come up at anytime.”
Albus nodded his thanks and returned his gaze out the window as paddock after paddock flew by. He should’ve known Rose would make new friends quickly. She was so easy to get along with, after all.
His thoughts soon returned to the school he was soon to attend. Hogwarts was only a few hours away; and yet he still felt an unnerving lurch at the thought of going. And the Sorting Ceremony… what if he got into Slytherin? Both his parents had been in Gryffindor, as had Rose’s. His brother James, too, had been sorted into the same house. Albus didn’t know anyone from Slytherin, and nor did he want to meet them.
“Erm… can I just get – er, get my cage?”
Albus tore his gaze away from the window and saw a familiar boy standing tentatively by the door. He soon recognised the boy to be one from the train station – the one his uncle Ron had called Scorpius.
“What? Oh… yeah, sure.”
The boy smiled in thanks and edged forward, retrieving his cage from where it lay on the ground. “I’m Scorpius, by the way.” Albus noticed how much Scorpius’ hair resembled that of his father, Draco. He had heard his parents mention Draco Malfoy’s name before.
“I’m Albus. Albus Potter.” Albus gave a small smile, trying to judge whether Scorpius was indeed a friendly person.
“’Course you are,” the blonde boy replied, taking the seat opposite Albus and returning the smile. “You’re Harry’s son. My father talks about him sometimes.”
“Really?” Albus noticed the lack of awe in Scorpius’ voice. On the contrary, he found this comforting. Usually people found it interesting that he, Albus, was the son of the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort.
“Yeah,” Scorpius said casually. He gave a sigh. “Do you know which house you’ll be in?”
Albus shook his head, the uncomfortable weight in his stomach returning.
“Neither do I,” said Scorpius quietly, looking toward the ground. He looked to be nervous at the mere thought of going to Hogwarts. “My dad was in Slytherin.”
“Do you want to be in Slytherin?” asked Albus.
“I don’t know,” Scorpius replied. “I mean, Dad’s always going on about how good it is… but I don’t know why. The houses seem to be such a big deal.”
Albus nodded, not sure what to say. Thankfully, this moment was again interrupted by the arrival of a short plump old woman and a trolley, bearing every type of food imaginable. Scorpius had already jumped to his feet, looking delighted. “I’m starving…”
Albus, too, got up and looked toward the food. He was hungry despite the dull weight that had settled within him; maybe eating would distract him from his nerves.