Chapter Four: Albus

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The first years shuffled into a line, all looking either white as a sheet, or unnaturally green. Al felt the worst of them all. A day ago, at least Al knew what he wanted. He was going to be a Gryffindor, he didn't care what it took to get him there. But now... things had changed very quickly.

Al's dad only had only been a Gryffindor because he requested to be there. The Sorting Hat intended to put him in Slytherin. That was hard to comprehend because throughout Al's life, he had always known two truths: Severus was an awful middle name, and Harry Potter was a Gryffindor. Alone this information didn't change much. Al would ask to be a Gryffindor and the deed would be done. He could be a Gryffindor, just like his mother and father, like his cousins, like James... But why would Al want to be like James?

Lydia had changed things, even more than Al's father. Lydia was everything a Slytherin should be; sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and strong-willed. When James had come around to humiliate Al in front of his new friends, Lydia had shown how Slytherin-esque she could behave. But Lydia hadn't been mean to Al, as he expected a Slytherin to act. She had been standing up for him. She would be a Slytherin for sure - but maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

Al didn't know what he wanted.

It took Al a second to register where he was. This must be it - this was the Great Hall. Four tables ran through the length of the hall, each full of students, waiting in their black robes. At the front, a table seated a long line of teachers, facing the students. Candles floated in the air, high above even Hagrid's reach. And above the candles, Al couldn't see a ceiling, but instead he saw the stars. Faintly, he remembered Rose mentioning after she had finished Hogwarts: A History that the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside, but he could hardly believe there was a ceiling there at all.

Then, resting on a stool in front of the teacher's table, Al saw the Sorting Hat. It was tattered and frayed, made more of stains and repair jobs than it was of fabric. As he made his way closer to it, he was surprised his legs could support him. What if he wasn't a Gryffindor? What would James say?

What if I am a Gryffindor? Al thought to himself, and he felt a great sense of impending doom. Before he could fret any further, a voice echoed down from the front of the hall. The Sorting Hat's mouth was moving - its song had begun.

"The time has come for Hogwarts

To turn its eyes to me.

I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I know where you should be.

I may not have the finest look

Or fit well on your head,

But there is not a single book

That can say what I have said.

I'm the smartest hat you'll find

I know your every thought;

When I see into your mind

I'll know where to put you and where not.

You might be in Gryffindor,

Where the courageous students live;

Their bravery and chivalry

Are what Gryffindors have to give.

Or perhaps in Ravenclaw,

You'll find some friends like you;

Their wit and smarts set them apart

They'll teach you something new.

You may belong in Slytherin

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