Chapter Four: The Sorting of the New Generation

POV: Albus and Rose

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was by all intents and purposes, a badass. Yes, she ran this historic and prestigious school with an iron fist for over twenty years (some would say more), but she was also an undercover agent. At her two hundred years of age (or however old she was), she was still a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a "secret" organization that fought evil (although everyone claimed it had been disbanded after the Second War, but we all knew they still met up from time to time). McGonagall was incredibly intimidating, especially when her sharp, dark eyes found you and held you down without so much of a blink from her part. There were even rumours she could turn into a wild predator (but those I had yet to find any evidence of). She was ruthless and unnerving—but throw her in the unforgivable mix that was my family and I can assure the poor woman was out of her element.

Case and point: McGonagall was just approaching the golden podium at the front of the Great Hall to address her students when the doors banged open, letting in a commotion of flapping robes and ginger hair. 

"Troll in the dungeon! Troll in the bloody dungeon!" wheezed my cousin Fred Weasley II (Freddie does the trick, actually). 

When he collapsed on the floor space between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, the crowd erupted into fits of laughter. Beside me, Rose's face was melting into that of worry and shock (as was most other First Years), but then Freddie jumped up, bowing and waving at his peers. He was a bit of a diva.

"Mister Weasley," hissed the Headmistress, bringing upon immediate silence, "what is the meaning of this?"

"Would you believe I thought there really was a troll in the dungeon, but it was just Peeves shape-shifting again?" Freddie asked, batting his eyes at the woman. When her stern expression did not change he said with a sigh, "I'll find Mister Filch after the feast to take my detention. Two weeks seem okay?"

"A month," said McGonagall.

Freddie pretended to sulk as he made way to join James at the Gryffindor table. Once he sat down, James clapped him hard on the back, grinning like an idiot. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts, First Years," although this sentiment was meant to be cheery, the Headmistress lacked any when she followed it with, "As all prior students know, the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students who do not wish to die a most painful death. Secondly, our Caretaker, Mister Filch, would like me to remind you that all Weasleys Wizard Wheezes products are banned from the castle."

"Uncle George is a terrible influence on children," Rose murmured, nudging her head at the cluster of boys sneaking smirks at one another, mischievous glints in their eyes. 

I scoffed. "He likes a laugh, that's all."

Rose scoffed back, too. "Right."

"When I call your name," Professor Horton was speaking now as the Headmistress took her seat, "you will come forward, I will place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your House."

A rush of panic surged through my body, making me think I was a few seconds from collapsing here and there, but the thought of James never letting that go kept me steady on my shaking knees. 

"Abbot, Gloria!" A girl with bright orange hair stumbled to the stool at the center of the stage where the sorting hat awaited. Her hands shook when Professor Horton placed it on her head, but in two seconds it bellowed "HUFFLEPUFF" and all her fear was gone. A cheering table awaited to welcome her home. 

Liam maneuvered away from Nia's side to arrive by mine. "That wasn't too bad," he said. "My cousins said we had to wrestle a werewolf. At least, that's what I thought they were preparing me for all summer."

I patted him on the back, just like Scorpius had done before. I thought I had it rough growing up with a brother like James that loved to torment me for his own amusement, but this lad had it worse. 

Just then, after Amelia Bole had sat with the sorting hat on her head, it yelled "SLYTHERIN!"

I was sure the grimace that crossed Scorpius' face was the same as mine. 

"Honestly," Rose groaned when Patrick Dunstan was called forward, "the two of you are proper idiots."

Scorpius knitted his brows at her. 

"Don't you two get it?" she continued, patience long gone now. "It isn't about your families. It's not about legacies. It's about where the sorting hat thinks you belong."

Scorpius blinked down to his shoes, still frowning, but I doubt it was at Rose. She was right, after all. Even if we were too stubborn and scared to accept that.

"Greengrass, Liam!" Horton called. 

The relief that had taken up Liam was instantly gone when the group of First Years parted and all eyes were on him. 

Nia was immediately at his side.

"They're staring," he gulped.

"And they'll stare all of your life," she said before pushing him onward. 

He stumbled, but quickly found his footing before embarrassing himself. Alike most before him, his knees and hands were shaking when Horton placed the sorting hat on his head. 

"Merlin, this one's shy," snorted the Sorting Hat. "There's hidden bravery in there. Lots of loyalty. Not a shabby mind, either. Has potential, but better be GRYFFINDOR!"

My jaw dropped as the House name echoed off the Great Hall. Honestly, I expected Hufflepuff for someone like Liam, but good for him. The smile on his face was grand as he rushed to the clapping and booming table. 

"Harper, Nia," said Horton, calling the beautiful girl forward. She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, meeting the eye of anyone who stared at her, and sat with arms crossed over her chest. She was definitely Slytherin material. Had to be. But when her blue eyes looked over at Liam, the sorting hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Liam had to have been the one to clapped the hardest and loudest. He practically climbed onto the table, chanting Nia's name with relief all over his face. Rose said something about those two reminding her of us, but I hoped that I was not that dependent on Rose as Liam was on Nia. 

As Gryffindor's cheers declined a few degrees in volume, Alice Longbottom was called to the front. Alike Nia, she was smooth and confident. Not that there was a surprise there; Alice's father was Professor Neville Longbottom, the expert in Herbology around here, as such, Alice and Frankie (her younger brother) were more than at ease with the Hogwarts environment. In fact, Alice spent a lot of her free time quizzing Rose about the history of the school (they said it was a competition, but they were both nerds and we all knew it was what they called fun).  

I was genuinely expecting the sorting hat to call out Gryffindor when it came to Alice, as was she, because when "HUFFLEPUFF" was pronounced, she looked shocked. It took her a moment to get off the stool. She looked over at her father sitting among the school's staff; when he gave her a gentle, proud smile, she beamed back and ran to the clapping Hufflepuff table.

It seems there was a lot of fear-of-disappointing-our-parents around here.

"Malfoy, Scorpius Hyperion!" 

With a surname like his, the silence that fell over the Great Hall was expected. I will give it to Scorpius, though; he looked unruffled by the deafening silence. 

"You'll be great," Emily whispered to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be fine."

He gave her a fleeting, uncertain smile before taking the first step to the sorting hat.

The thing barely touched his head when it said, "So much desire to prove yourself. Not like your father, not like your mother—but who? You seek to be someone. Someone you've yet to meet, or perhaps yet to become. What a brave heart you carry. An exceptional mind, too. Wit beyond measure. Better be....SLYTHERIN!"   

Disappointment. That is what I would call what crossed Scorpius' features at the House name. He said he had not wanted to break family tradition, but I think a part of him wanted to. He wanted something new that could lead him to a different path not already paved out for him.

"Nott, Evanna!" Scorpius was forced off the stool when Professor Horton called a new student forward. The dark-haired girl was on the seat less than a second when the sorting hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Rose and Emily were at my side now. My cousin rested her head on my shoulder, looking up at me with an encouraging smile, while our new American friend patted my arm. I looked at them with a raised brow, wondering why they were trying to comfort me. Of course, fate was always on time when Horton said, "Potter, Albus Severus!"

A shiver ran up my spine as the girls detached themselves from me. 

The loudest noise in the Great Hall was the pounding of my heart and the squeak of my shoes against the marbled floor. I could feel all of my relatives' eyes on my back, pushing me forward, their anticipation to hear what House I'd be sorted to cutting me up. I held my breath when the old leather hat was placed on my head, slightly covering my eyes.

"Well, well," it said in that mocking tone it had taken with most students, "you're a very conflicted boy. So many expectations for yourself. Trust me, Potter, you're going to fail all of them. But that's okay. You've got enough nerve to change everything. One of those will be the way people look at you and your new house-mates." 

Oh no. 

"SLYTHERIN!"

It took one long, painful second for any noise to be made. It came from Rose and Emily who put their hands together to clap. Slowly, the rest of the Great Hall followed.

"Way to go, Albie!" Dominique cheered as she, Louis, and Freddie rose up on the Gryffindor table. Victoire and Molly weren't far behind; their grinning faces lit up the room. 

Although that definitely made my heart swell up, it was hard to notice the one person who was not clapping. James sat there, his gaze hard as it followed me to the Slytherin table, betrayal flickering in them. 

"Which one of us do you think is screwed more?" Scorpius said as he made room for me beside him. "You or me?"

I laughed. "Both. Definitely both."

"Maybe. Or maybe we belong here, right?" he said.

My eyes drifted back to my brother. I suppose, despite all his teasing, he never imagined I would end up here. But for the first time ever, I really did not care. I was here now. I was in Slytherin and there was no going back. James could think himself the pride of Gryffindor, but it was my turn to prove myself as someone else. I had no idea who that was or could be, but I wanted to find out. 

                                                                                                X

I still could not believe it—Al, a Slytherin. Sure, I had been the one to constantly remind him that James was full of it, that it did not matter what House he was sorted into, but it actually coming to pass... Well. Wow. Best of all, he had a smile on his face that looked genuine. 

"Think he'll be okay?" asked Emily as another student ran up to the stool. 

I nodded, keeping my eyes trained on the Slytherin table. My attention then drifted from my cousin to the boy beside him. Malfoy seemed far more content than he did earlier. The relief that flooded me in that moment made me question who it was for, him or Al. 

"Rookwood, Belinda!" A blonde girl with a cool expression and hard-set hazel eyes walked over to the sorting hat.

I shook my head—it was for Al, of course. I did not have anything but indifference for Scorpius Malfoy. 

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted as Belinda smugly pulled it off after two seconds. She strut her way to the indicated table like that was the award she had been waiting for.

Emily watched the girl before looking up at me. "There is a lot more fear about being sorted here than there was back home. What am I missing?"

"A brush up on your British history," I said to her as I watched Belinda Rookwood aim a grin at Scorpius when he made space on his other side. 

Another name was called, a nervous boy by the name of Jager Smith. It was not a surprise when Hufflepuff was pronounced as his House. Smith quickly ran over, ducking his head as the Hufflepuffs cheered for him. 

"All of you have history here," Emily whispered to me. "I know it doesn't matter, but generations of you grew up here. I'm the first one of my family to come to Hogwarts. I'm alone. I never had much luck fitting into anywhere, it's going to be the same here, isn't it?"

I reached for her hand. "Everyone belongs somewhere, Emily. You're going to be fine."

"Scamander, Lorcan!" Professor Horton shouted from his list. A blonde boy with deep blue eyes marched forward. I remember that name. I remember that face. The realization dawned on me just as the hat called, "RAVENCLAW!"

"Make Mum proud, Lor!"

Emily and I jumped at the bellow that came from behind us. There, a replica of the boy who was now rushing over to Ravenclaw table, was Lysander. It had been so long since I'd seen either of the twins; their mother Luna Lovegood, a great family friend, had relocated from Britain after the tragic passing of her husband Rolf Scamander. Mum and Aunt Ginny (as did most of my family) kept in contact with her over the years, but the last I heard was that she had married Dean Thomas two years back and was contemplating returning home. I suppose Mum and Aunt Ginny were in for a surprise sometime soon because neither mentioned it actually happening.

"Rose," Lysander smiled, "long time, right?"

I blushed just as he was called to be sorted. 

If Emily had not nudged me I would have forgotten she was there. "He'll have to be in Ravenclaw, too, right?"

"Depends," I said. "While most twins have a track record of ending up in the same Houses, it all really comes down to their qualities. My uncles were twins and were impossible to tell apart, not just because of their appearances, but their personalities were the same side of one coin. They were the kings of Gryffindor in their time."

Although I had never met Uncle Fred, I could not help the knot of nostalgia that formed in my throat. I hated to think what pain Uncle George carried with him every day of his life. Everyone always had wonderful, hilarious stories to share about the twins that lead to their eyes growing misty, but it was he who lost half of himself. 

After the sorting hat placed Lysander Scammander in Gryffindor, Horton said, "Taylor, Emily!"

I squeezed Emily's hand before she moved. She took a deep breath and approached the stool, actively avoiding eye-contact with everyone. She even tugged the hem of the hat lower down her face to obscure her sight.

It was no surprise that Al, Malfoy, Liam, Nia, and me were focused on her, passing off some sort of silent support and love for the American who felt out of place. She didn't have to tell us, one look at her and we all knew she was alone. She needed people to help her survive this place. And that's what we wanted to be, her friends. 

"Oh, you silly little girl," said the Sorting Hat. "You have a lot more strength than all dragon slayers combined. Even if you don't believe it just yet. You'll do just fine in GRYFFINDOR!"

Cheers broke out around the Great Hall when Emily stood. Liam and Nia awaited her, ready to embrace her in.

For me, it really didn't matter where I was placed. I couldn't possibly define myself, either, but I knew who I was. Knew what I wanted, at least. All this fear of thinking we were forever going to be that one person who didn't live up to the expectations of our families was ridiculous to me. The answer was clear: of course we weren't. 

My main goal was to educate myself.  I just want to learn all that there is to know, to intake every piece of information and make it develop, make it grow so it could be a useful resource to me and the world in the future. I want to follow the footsteps of my mother and hopefully become the new 'Brightest Witch of Her Age', but necessarily being like Hermione Granger isn't what I was shooting for. I have to be my own person.

Just as I mentally gave myself a pat on the back for being so damn clever for my age, I heard a loud and clear, "Weasley, Rose!" echo off the walls.

From all the First Years that had entered the Great Hall and had waited to be sorted, I was the last of the two. As I climbed up the small steps that led to the stool, I left a dark-skinned boy standing by himself, looking perfectly at ease.

"Another Weasley," the hat snorted as I rolled my eyes at it. "Let's see what we have here, then. Well, there's no denying the new generation of Weasleys is evolving, possessing more than courage, which surely runs through your blood. Incredibly intelligent, you are. Just like your mother. Wouldn't expect anything less from the daughter of the brightest witch to have ever roamed these halls. You've inherited all her intellect, and yet there's so much of your father running through your veins as well. No doubt you'll be just as successful as they were....GRYFFINDOR!"

My eyes caught the silver ones of Malfoy. He didn't look shocked, but a bit disappointed. He clapped along with the rest of the students, but not as enthusiastically like my cousins or my new friends as I hurried off to my new House table.