The Good Son

Prologue

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as the falling leaves, littering the streets as they fell from the slowly-baring trees, tousled along the ground by the light breeze.

The family strode across the busy road purposefully towards the bustling soot stained station, rife with fumes and the breath of dozens of pedestrians. Two large cages rattled on top of the heavy trolleys which were being pushed by the two young boys, the squawking of their inhabitants, a pair of owls, attracting dozens of mystified expressions. A little red haired girl trailed tearfully behind her brothers, clutching at her mother's arm and ignoring the gently reassurances of her father.

"It won't be long till you join them snitch," Harry told her comfortingly.

"Two years," sniffed Lily Luna Potter, "I want to go now."

Ginny smiled at the image, remembering her own childhood disappointment every time her own brothers had gone to Hogwarts, leaving her alone at home. She had been the same, longing to join them in the fabled halls of the best school in the world. But Lily was still nine, she still had her little girl for a couple more years, the house would be too quiet when all three of them were students. Ginny both looked forward too and dreaded the day when Lily would get her letter. The sound of her youngest son's voice snapped her out of her reverie, she shook her head in exasperation, it would seem that they had taken up their earlier argument with renewed vigour.

"I won't! I won't be in Slytherin!"

"James, stop irritating your brother," said Harry, a tad sharply.

"I only said he might be," grinned the eldest of her children, smirking at his younger brother. "There's nothing wrong with that, he might be in Slyth-"

James caught his father's stern gaze and fell silent. Harry Potter rarely got angry or short tempered, but in the past few days he had been incredibly short with the rest of his family. Ginny suspected that it might have been something to do with Albus' upcoming Sorting, her husband had been in the same foul mood up until James had sent a letter declaring that he had made Gryffindor in his first year. With a cocky look in his eye, James broke into a run, vanishing a moment later as he passed through the barrier.

"You'll write to me, won't you?" asked Albus quietly, taking advantage of his brothers momentary absence.

"Every day, if you want us to," said Ginny reassuringly.

"Not every day," said Albus quickly, "James says that most people only get letters at least twice a month."

"We wrote to him four times a week last year," said Harry, "You shouldn't believe everything your brother says about Hogwarts, he's too much like your Uncles Fred and George for his own good."

One after another, they passed through the barrier, emerging onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was steadily being belched by the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared. They could hear his voice though, regaling his friends with his summertime adventures.

"Where are they?" asked Albus anxiously, peering at the hazy incandescent silhouettes as they made their way down the platform.

"We'll find them," said Ginny, her eyes darting around as she sought out her brother and his wife.

Albus heard the detached voice of his Uncle Percy, discussing the latest regulations governing flying carpets with his daughter Molly II and was thankful for the excuse not to stop and say hello. It was not that he didn't love his uncle and cousins, but Uncle Percy was dreadfully boring and he much preferred his Uncle's George and Bill. He liked Uncle Charlie as well, but he was rarely home due to his new job as head of a Dragon Sanctuary in Romania.

"I think that's them Al," said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the thick vapour, standing alongside the last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when the Potters had drawn right up alongside them.

"Hi," he said, sounding hugely relieved to find his favourite cousin and aunt.

Rose, who was already dressed in her new Hogwarts robed beamed at him before pulling him in for a tight hug, she looked remarkably unlike the rest of the family. Her hair was a sandy blonde, falling in loose curls down her back, her skin was rather pale, but she had her mother's chocolate brown eyes – even though they were flecked with silver. Aunt Hermione would always look uncomfortable when anyone pointed out how unlike a Weasley her daughter looked, and would hastily point out that her own mother, Jean Granger, was blonde and pale. And that her father had grey eyes.

"Harry," declared Uncle Ron in a warm voice, clapping a hand on his best friends shoulder. Albus noted that his uncle had put on rather more weight since the last time he had seen him, his uncle had been quite athletic in his younger days but had now gone slightly to seed. He had also begun losing his hair.

Meanwhile, Lily and Hugo were having an animated discussion as to which houses they would be sorted into when they finally got to Hogwarts in two years.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," said Ron, "but no pressure." Harry closed his eyes, before nodding in agreement with a thin smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ron!"

"Harry!"

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus looked solemn whilst Rose managed to pull off an expression of haughty indifference.

"I'm going to be a Ravenclaw dad," she said crossly, folding her arms and giving him a look that was eerily reminiscent of her mother.

"He doesn't mean it," laughed Ginny, but both men were no longer paying attention and Hermione seemed to have paled considerably as she noticed who they were staring at. The steam had thinned considerably and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

"Look who it is," sneered Ron.

Draco Malfoy was standing with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat despite the stifling heat of the platform. Despite being in his mid to late thirties he barely looked a day over twenty five. The boy beside him resembled him as much as Albus resembled Harry, something which had annoyed Albus to know end. He hated when strangers would look at him and begin weighing him against his father. Harry had saved the wizarding world when he was only seventeen years old, how was Albus supposed to compete with that. He wasn't James, who revelled in the attention . . . he was Al, and he hated the fame and unwanted attention.

Draco caught sight of them staring, nodding curtly and then letting his eyes fall on Rose. His eyes seemed to widen for a moment, as his gaze flitted between Hermione and her for a fraction of a second before he once more took on his expression of haughty indifference. Albus thought he was the only one who noticed it, but Aunt Hermione seemed to have a death grip on his shoulder so obviously she had too. He wondered what it was about.

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron under his breath, "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank god you inherited your mother's brains. God knows what would happen if you inherited your fathers."

"Ronald," snapped Hermione sharply, "Don't turn them against each other before they've started school."

"You're right dear," Ron said soothingly, "but don't get too friendly with him Rosie dear. Granddad Weasley will never forgive you for marrying a pure-blood."

"Hey Slytherin! Rosie-Poo!"

James had reappeared; divested of his trunk and owl and evidently bursting with news.

"Teddy's back there," he said breathlessly, pointing over his shoulder towards the train, "Guess what he's doing! Snogging Victoire! Our Victoire!"

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by their lack of reaction.

"Our Teddy! My godbrother! Snogging my cousin! And I asked what they were doing –"

"You interrupted them," asked Ginny quizzically, "You are so like Ron."

"Oh I would so love for them to be married," declared Lily loudly and ecstatically, "Then Teddy would really be part of the family."

"He lives with us," said Harry shortly, "He has for the fast fourteen years, he is already family."

"It's nearly eleven," said Ginny quickly, seeing how close to snapping her husband was, "Quickly onto the train loves."

Ginny kissed both her sons goodbye, and warmly hugged her niece as James disappeared into the train, scrubbing at his cheek. Albus paused for a moment before hugging his father, softly asking the question that had been bugging him for weeks.

"What if I'm in Slytherin?"

The whisper was for his father alone, and Harry tensed at the question, his eyes hardening slightly before crouching beside his son, his own grudge against the House of Green and Silver momentarily forgotten when he realised his son's fear was genuine and sincere.

Albus' face was just slightly above his own as he kneeled in front of his son. Alone out of Harry's three children, Albus had inherited the emerald green eyes of Lily Evans.

"Albus Severus Potter," said quietly, so that only Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to engage Hermione in loud conversation whilst waving cheerily at Rose, who had by now found a compartment, "You were named for named for two of the greatest headmasters Hogwarts has ever known. One of them was a Slytherin and he was the bravest man I will ever know."

"But what if?"

"Then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student," Harry gritted his teeth as he spoke, "It doesn't matter to us," he lied, "But if it matters so much to you, choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Hat takes your choice into consideration."

"Really?" Albus asked, wide eyed and innocent.

"It did for me," said Harry.

He had never told any of his children that before, but now he saw the dawning wonder on his son's face when he said it. But now the doors where slamming, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming in for final goodbyes until Christmas, students were hurrying onto the train as a loud whistle filled the station and would a last fleeting look at his parents, Albus ran into the train as the wheels began to turn.

"He'll be all right," murmured Ginny as the train vanished around the corner.

"I hope so," said Harry quietly, before absently touching the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

The scar had not pained him in nineteen years. All was well.

At least for now.

(*)(*)(*)

"Why do you want to be a Ravenclaw so badly?" Albus asked Rose, the two of them walking down the train looking for an empty compartment.

"My dad put's all this pressure on us to be Gryffindors," she said honestly, "But it's not his life, I'd like to think I'm brave and heroic and such but I much prefer Ravenclaw wit to Gryffindor brawn. Dad needs to realise that the Gryffindors weren't they only house that bled in the war."

"You've given a lot of thought to this," said Albus with a raised eyebrow.

"My mother is Hermione remember," she laughed, "I over think everything."

"Why do you want to be a Gryffindor?" she asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I guess dad and James both want me to be there and I just want to make them proud."

"That's so sweet snake," said James with a laugh, neither of them had realised they were walking passed the third-year Gryffindors compartment, "But you're going to be a Slytherin so stop getting your knickers in a twist."

"I'll be a Gryffindor," stammered Albus, "I will."

(*)(*)(*)

"Can we sit here, everywhere else is full," said Rose as they pushed their way into the last compartment on the train. Albus was still pale from his argument with his brother.

"You sure?" asked the pale, blond haired boy, "Not afraid to catch any death eater germs are you?"

"Why would we be scared of that?" snorted Rose as she plopped herself down on the train, "Voldy's been dead for nearly twenty years."

"Funny," scoffed the blonde boy, whom Albus recognised as Scorpius Malfoy – the boy uncle Ron had pointed out at the station, "You two are the first people who haven't turned up their noses and called me a death eater in training."

"That's not fair," said Albus, surprising himself, but this boy seemed to know exactly how he himself felt whenever people compared him to his father.

"I'm Rose Weasley by the way," interrupted Rose bossily, "This is my cousin Albus Potter."

"A Potter and a Weasley talking to me of all people," the boy whistled in surprise, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy."

"Like I said the war ended decades ago," continued Rose, "Why hold grudges for something that happened before we were even born."

(*)(*)(*)

"So you want to be a Ravenclaw to?" said Rose in surprise, "I would have thought you wanted to be a Slytherin."

"No," said Scorpius, "My whole family has been in Slytherin. I don't have anything against the House, but there's nothing left to achieve in Slytherin that someone before me hasn't already. If I'm a Ravenclaw, everything I achieve will be my own."

Albus thought about that for a long time, and the longer he pondered, the more sense it made.

(*)(*)(*)

"Avery, Xavier," called Professor Longbottom and a dark haired boy with a slightly pointed face scurried nervously up to the sorting hat. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted:

"SLYTHERIN!"

The sorting continued for a while before Albus perked his head up at the sound of the first familiar name he had heard since assembling in the front of the Great Hall.

"Longbottom, Frank."

Frank Longbottom grinned apprehensively as he made his way towards his father, winking at his older sister Alison who was sitting beside James at the Gryffindor table. His brother laughed when he caught Al's eye, and pointed at the Slytherin table with a smirk. The hat seemed to deliberate for a long time before shouting:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Frank looked relieved, whilst his father and sister both smiled at the young round-faced boy who rushed to his new house table so quickly that he forgot to take off the Sorting Hat. His face bright red in embarrassment, he scurried back to hand it to his dad amidst gales of laughter. Even stern old Headmistress Mcgonagall, an old friend of the families, managed a light smile of appreciation.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

The hat was a few centimetres from his head but it still shouted:

"Slytherin."

Scorpius looked rather disappointed as he ran off to the cheering table, taking a seat between Xavier and Elena Flint.

A few more names were called before one in particular caused the Hall to fall silent, so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop.

"Potter, Albus."

The hat was large and leathery as it settled on his head, slipping down over his eyes and obscuring the hall.

"Another Potter-Weasley," said the hat, it's papery voice echoing through his head, "But yet different than all those who came before you."

"Not Slytherin . . . Not Slytherin . . . Not Slytherin. . ."

"Not Slytherin eh? Your father was the same you know. But I still maintain that he would have been great in Slytherin. You on the other hand, bravery . . . power . . . intelligence . . . loyalty to those who are loyal to you. You are not your father; that much is certain. In Gryffindor, you can become a fair and powerful wizard, I can see it in your head . . . but in Slytherin, hmmm, you have the potential to eclipse your father and brother, and all those who have come before you."

Eclipse his father?

Albus took in the Great Hall, the expectant faces all waiting for the hat to scream out GRYFFINDOR, his brother's cocky smirk, his cousin's expectant expressions, the lonely look on Scorpius' face. He remembered his father's gritted teeth when Albus had asked about Slytherin, the man had tried to hide it but he had seen right through the facade. Scorpius and Rose had been right, it was his life, he shouldn't live it to please the people around him.

"Put me in the House you think best for me," said Albus in a hushed voice, yet it was loud enough that Neville fixed him with a strange look, "Put me where I can shine above the rest." Albus ignored the pointed look Neville was shooting at him, this was his choice.

"SLYTHERIN," shouted the hat.

Albus smiled as the hall filled with stunned mutterings, even Mcgonagall seemed thrown for a moment. Then the clapping from his new house filled the air, and Albus strode to join them.

Catching his brothers shocked expression; he decided that it was definitely his turn to give a cocky smirk and a sly wink.

The hat had been right; he would be great in Slytherin . . . he just never realised that even Voldemort had been great . . . terrible, insane but great.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: This is just a plot bunny that refused to leave my head so I spun it off. For now, the Prologue is all that's going to be up but I shall be updating weekly once my exams are completed. Now wish me well, I'm writing Mathematics tomorrow.