Chapter 9
Albus stood on platform nine and three-quarters, accompanied by his father. The passage of time was evident in the subtle changes etched upon their faces. Albus's once bright eyes now held a darker hue, his complexion more pallid. Despite his attractiveness, he refused to acknowledge it.
"Third year. Big year," Harry remarked, extending a permission form for Hogsmeade to his son.
Albus frowned. "I hate Hogsmeade."
Harry sighed, trying to reason with him. "How can you hate a place you haven’t actually visited yet?"
"Because I know it’ll be full of Hogwarts students who hate Slytherin, same as you," Albus retorted, crumpling up the paper.
"Just give it a go — come on — this is your chance to go nuts in Honeydukes without your mum knowing — no, Albus, don’t you dare," Harry warned as Albus pointed his wand.
"Incendio!" Albus cast the spell, setting the paper ablaze, the flames dancing across the stage.
"Of all the stupid things!" Harry exclaimed, clearly exasperated.
" I did expect it to work. I’m good at that spell," Albus admitted.
"Albus, I’ve been exchanging owls with Professor McGonagall — she says you’re isolating yourself — you’re uncooperative in lessons — you’re surly — you’re —" Harry began, concern etched in his voice.
"So what would you like me to do? Magic myself popular? End my friendship with Scorpius? Conjure myself into Gryffindor? Transfigure myself into the best student, like Hermione? Just cast a spell, Dad, and change me into what you want me. That is what you want, isn't it? Got to go. And most of teacher, including McGonall, support Gryffindors and never isn't supporting Slytherins including me. In reality I and Scorpius are one of the best students our year. Train to catch. Friend to find," Albus interrupted, his tone laced with frustration as he turned to board the train.