Above or to the side is a picture of James Sirius Potter.

Pressure Has A High Density

It was decided that we would go from oldest to youngest, excluding me, because I had to go last.

"My name is James Potter," my brother rang out, waiting for a reaction.

"I have a son?" Somebody who took the appearance of somebody who looked like a lot like a younger version of my dad.

"Yeah," James continued. "Anyway, I'm seventeen and in Gryffindor. Quidditch captain, seeker."

James looked a lot like our father, except he had brown eyes like our mother did. His hair was dark and messy, and he was about nearly five foot nine. He was the tallest in the household, and his girl friend was only a little shorter than him. She was five foot seven.

"My name is Rose Weasley. "I am in Ravenclaw and I'm fifteen years old. I play keeper for the house team. Hermione is my mother, and Ron his my father."

The sound of coins being passed between mom and dad reached my ears.

"You placed bets on us!?" Hermione yelled at the two.

"I'm pretty sure everybody did. At least, everybody who saw what happened at the Yule Ball last year."

Hermione huffed and turned back around.

Rose looked a lot like her mother, now that I see the two up close and around the same age.

Rose had bushy hair, but it was red. Her eyes were brown and she had her mothers facial structure. They were very alike too; they carried themselves the same exact way, and it was almost creepy. And she, like her mother, was around five foot seven.

"I'm Lily Potter," my sister announced, taking in a deep breath. "I'm thirteen and I am in Gryffindor and I play as a chaser on the house team!"

Lily looked a lot like mom, and you could see it now more than ever.

The red hair was the exact shade. The brown eyes were the same. The freckles seemed to be in the exact same spot as mom's as well. In fact, they seemed to even be the same height- five foot five.

"I'm Hugo, and I'm thirteen and in Gryffindor. I'm Roses' brother and I play as keeper for the house team."

Hugo looked a lot like his father, and he was five foot six. Instead of red hair, his hair was brown, but he did have blue eyes and freckles.

"You're up, boy," Moody grumbled at me, looking at me in a mean way.

I stood up and showed myself.

"My name is Albus Severus Potter, but I go by Al. I'm fifteen and I'm in Slytherin. I find Quidditch to be a highly useless time consuming sport, and because I know that you will ask, I am five foot three."

Silence. Utter silence.

"So, are you like... A Death Eater, or...?" Moody demanded an answer from me.

I got fed up right then and there.

"No," I calmly stated, anger building up more and more after every single sentence.

"And I will have you know," I continued, even more angry than I was before. "I am not a bad person. I will tell you right now that I have gotten a lot of prejudice from people because of my house, and it's better in the future, but I still get it. And I don't need it now. So why don't you guys stop looking at me like I'm dangerous and how about we focus on how the hell we are going to get home!?"

There was more silence after I finished. My face heated up, and I felt the need to crawl into a hole, curled up in the fetal position and get the hell out of here.

"You've been so loud today Al... It's unlike you..." James announced, looking at my face, ready to tease me.

"Yeah, well, shut up," I retaliated.

"Don't tell your elders to shut up," James ordered me.

"You're older than me by, what, a year and a half? Besides, I'm more mature than you."

"Says the boy who had detention for two weeks, Monday through Friday night last October," James tattled.

"Yeah, for taking the blame for something that you did! Since, oh, Gryffindor can't afford to loose their freaking seeker for five freaking practices!" I argued back, done with his shit.

"Well, you wouldn't know how important a seeker is, because unlike everyone else in the family, you hate Quidditch!" James argued back. 

This was turning into a heated argument, and I wasn't aware of my surroundings.

"Because it's stupid! Do you know how many people have died from the sport!? About five hundred and forty three! Excuse me for not wanting to get beaten about the head and die!"

"All you ever do is tell me this when I get into the hospital wing when Lily purposely hits me with the quaffle during practice! Listen, I don't care!" James fought back.

"Well don't come crying to me when you're suffering from a head injury!"

"Like I would even call for you!"

"Well I'd show up anyway, because no matter how much you get on my nerves, you're my brother."

"I don't want you to come. Don't talk to me! I hate you!" James yelled.

"Then I hate you!" I yelled back, before glaring at him and turning back towards everyone else slowly.

"Er... Do they always fight like that?" The younger version of Uncle Ron asked.

"Yes," Lily sighed. "All of the time. That was one of the most calm ones between the two. They just don't get along."

"Why?" Dad's younger version asked, curiosity and concern playing in his emerald orbs.

"They're so different," Rose began to say. "They were fine when they were little, but ever since Al got to Hogwarts... Everybody noticed the differences."

I snorted. "Yes, because the differences weren't clear beforehand."

Hermione laughed. Everybody turned to look at her.

"He has your sass Harry," she laughed.

"I partially get it from my mom, too," I replied to her. "But she gets real mad when I use it on her. And that's when the Weasley temper comes out."

The only option for a Weasley to be my dads wife was Ginny. It took a few minutes for everybody to analyze what I just said.

"I... Marry Harry Potter?" Mom asked, blushing.

"And have three kids with him," Lily stated.

Dad was blushing and was as red as a fresh radish.

The amount of pressure inside of the room was suddenly high, and I really noticed that the pressure of having a famous family was very dense. I didn't particularly enjoy the feeling.