The Eighth Horcrux

Albus Potter was having a restless night. Seeing as it was August 31, the day before he left for his first year at Hogwarts, he was half expecting it to be a restless night. But Albus' restlessness was not ue to apprehension. It was due to prophecy. In fact, he was so restless, he woke himself up.

Days rewound, Nights unfurlled,
You’ll feel his struggles and his toil
What was he, is still you
Followed in footsteps your life through
Change it or not, you shall decide
Of those who live and those that die
A day of him, a day of you
And that decides who wins and lose
They thought he was done,
But he now lives in his son,
The eighth horcrux that passed on.

Albus had no idea what it was talking about, so he decided to fall back asleep. When he awoke, however, Albus wasn't greeted by his own bedroom, but rather a cramped room, that barely had any light. What had woken him up was a woman's voice. His mother Ginny's, probably.

"Up! Get up! NOW!" she screeched.

Albus flinched. He'd never heard his mother yell like that. Did he do something?

Sitting up, he noticed that he couldn't see very well, so he looked for a light switch. There wasn't one on the wall, but fumbling around in the dark, he noticed a chain hanging down from the ceiling. He pulled on it, and a faint light emittted from a single light bulb with no cover on it.

"What the bloody hell?" Albus wondered.

Where was he? This looked like...a cupboard.

"Are you up yet?" the woman's voice demanded.

"Uh yeah," said Albus, fumbling around. "Where-" But he couldn't get the rest of his sentance out because his mother shouted again.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Dudley's birthday."

Albus yawned. "Who?" he asked.

"What did you say? Are you losing you memory as well as being stupid?" his mother snapped through the door.

"What?…"

Dudley's birthday?—who on earth was Dudley? The only Dudley that Albus knew of was his dad's cousin Dudley. And who was this woman? She most certainly was NOT his mother. His mother was sweet, kind. This woman most definitely wasn't.
Albus groaned and looked for something to wear. He noticed that he was already wearing clothes, and he was only missing some socks. He didn't see any other clothes for him to wear. After looking aroung for a bit, Albus found a pair of socks. Shuddering as he pulled a spider off of it, he quickly put them on and opened the door.

Where was he? This wasn't his house. Albus, finding his bearings,went down the hall and into what he supposed was the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all these birthday presents. It looked as though there was new computer, a second television and a racing bike. Dear Merlin.

He was definitely right about this woman not being his mother. She looked nothing like his mother. This woman was thin, with a long neck and beady eyes. She was glaring at Albus like he was nastier than a slug.

"Watch. The. Bacon." She told him, ushering him over to the stove, where she gave Albus a spatula, and then hurried out of the kitchen to go get her son, Albus supposed.

Was she kidding? Albus had never really cooked much of anything in his life. His mother was always the one that made breakfast, and never the simple muggle way like this. Albus sighed and just did as he was told. This was all probably just a dream. Yeah. A dream.

A man, big and beefy, entered the kitchen as Albus was cooking.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, as a morning greeting.

"Ha, no chance." Albus muttered, too low for the man to hear him. His hair was just like his father's. Unruly, grew all over the place.

Albus was frying eggs when the Dudley boy arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like the big beefy man. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Albus put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room, due to the many presents. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his them. His face fell in dissapointment.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at whom Albus assumed was his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

Albus snickered. If he ever even ASKED for thirty-six presents for his birthday, his mother would bat bogey hex him.

"What are you snickering about, boy?" asked the fat beefy man.

Albus shooke his head, smiling slightly, but quickly said, "Nothing." This man was intimidating. He had an aura about him that Albus could sense, one that said, "I can threaten, but not physically hurt."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy." the skinny necked woman said.

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

The woman obviously scented danger, because she quickly said, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

'Spoilt brat' Albus thought.

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"

Albus stiffled a snicker. This boy had to be the most spoilt thick moron in existance.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said the woman.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Big-beefy man chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and the woman went to answer it while Albus and te fat man watched Dudley unwrap a racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR.

'Dear Merlin!' Albus thought again. ‘This kid had enough gifts 36 gifts ago.’

He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him."

She jerked her head in Albus' direction.
So, the fat man's name was Vernon, huh?

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror.

"Now what?" asked the woman, glaring furiously at Albus as though he'd planned this. Albus resisted the urge to stick his tounge out at the horrible woman.

"We could phone Marge," Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

"What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped the long-necked woman.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo,"she said slowly, "… and leave him in the car…"

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…"

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying — Albus could tell that much. His sister Lily'd gotten away with a lot thanks to those very same crocodile tears. The woman was an easy target, however, and fell right for those fake tears.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

Albus snickered again. Dinky Duddydums.

"I… don't… want… him… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!"

Ha gave Albus a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Albus gave him a two fingered salute in response.

"Git" Albus thought.

Just then, the doorbell rang — "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said the woman frantically — and a moment later, she ushered in the boy and his mother. The strange people that seemed so familiar, but so foreign, having no other option, decided to take Albus along with them.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers, Dudley's friend, Albus learned, wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can-but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

Albus scoffed. “You can’t MAKE it move. They move when they feel like it.”

Dudley ignored him.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Albus moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long.
The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Albus'.

It winked.

Albus smiled. Did that snake just do what he thinks it did? Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Albus a look that said quite plainly:

"I get that all the time."

"I know," Albus felt himself saying, murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

“I’m sorry you have to put up with it.” Albus told it.

“Ittttsssss not your guiltttttt.” The snake said.

Albus smiled sadly at the snake.

He’d always been able to speak to snakes, ever since he could remember. His brother couldn’t, and neither could his sister. He supposed he must have inherited it somehow from his Dad, who was the only other Parslemouth he knew.

Everyone had expected Harry Potter to lose his ability after the Battle of Hogwarts, but to his and everyone else’s surprise, he didn’t.

And so by luck of the genes, Albus had also inherited it.

The snake simply looked at him and opend his mouth in a low hiss that Albus was sure he was the only one who could hear or understand it.

Days rewound, Nights unfurlled,
You’ll feel his struggles and his toil
What was he, is still you
Followed in footsteps your life through
Change it or not, you shall decide
Of those who live and those that die
A day of him, a day of you
And that decides who wins and lose
They thought he was done,
But he now lives in his son,
The eighth horcrux he passed on.

Albus just stared in horror. What on earth?
Just then, a deafening shout behind Albus made both him jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling like a fat pig over to where he was. It reminded Albus of a baby giant.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Albus in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Al fell hard on the concrete floor.

"OI!"

What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Albus sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished.

Did he do that? He hasn't even gone to Hogwarts yet and he's already doing magic. Well, it least it was for a good cause. Albus thought, looking at Piers' and Dudley's soaking persons.

The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Albus could have sworn a low, hissing voice said,

"Remember the prophecy, Albus Potter. Remember it well."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

Poor Muggle. Albus laughed silently to himself.

The zoo director himself made Dudley's mother a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Al had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

"Harry?" Albus thought. How odd. I'm not Harry. That's dad's name.

Suddenly Albus realized why this family seemed familiar. It's because they were the Muggle family that had raised, for lack of a better word, his own father. What was he even doing here? Albus just kept his mouth shut, adamant that this was all a dream.

Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Albus. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go — cupboard — stay — no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and his wife had to run and get him a large brandy.

Albus lay in the dark cupboard much later, finally falling asleep.

The next morning, Albus woke up in his own bed. It was September 1st, and he was going to Hogwarts today. See? He had told himself it was all just a dream. A vivid, vivid...dream.

Platform 9 3/4

Albus Severus wriggled out of his mother's grasp as he headed down the train, looking for a compartment. There was probably room next to his brother, James, but after his teasing today Albus didn't really feel like sitting with him.

He made his way to the back of the train where an empty compartment was. Albus knew that it was silly to be this worried, but what if James was right? What if he WAS in Slytherin? Sighing, Albus closed his eyes and remembered what his father had said right before he had gotten on the train.

“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them, was a Slytherin, and he was possibly one of the bravest men that I ever knew.”

Did his father REALLY not care where Albus ended up? He knew that Harry would like for him to be in Gryffindor, but if he didn't end up there, was there a possibility that Harry would love him any less? Of course not. He said so himself.
Albus's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a rapping sound on his compartment door.

He looked up to see a boy about his age, carrying a heavy trunk behind him.

"Hi" Albus said.

"Hi." responded the boy, "Do you mind if I sit with you?" he asked.

"Not at all. Come in." Al said, motioning to the seat in front of him.

The boy complied, dragging his heavy trunk inside and Al, being the nice guy he was, decided to help him.

Soon the boy's trunk and everything inside of it was put away. The boy sat down.

"So, what's your name?" The boy asked.

"Albus. Albus Potter. Yours?" Al asked.

Suddenly the boy's eyes widened.

"You mean you're..." the boy trailed off.

"Yeah. I'm Harry Potter's son." Albus stated. He got this all the time.

The boy grinned cheekily.

"Well, yes, but...I was talking about your mother, Ginny Potter. The famous Chaser! I love her! Do you think you could get me an autograph?" the boy smiled.

Albus grinned.

It was nice for other people to see him as Ginny Potter's son instead of Harry's. It was a rare thing, that.

"Sure. I'm sure she'd be happy to." Albus smiled back at the boy.

"So, do you know what house you'll be in?" the boy asked.

Albus cringed, and shook his head "No."
"Yeah." his ocmpanion said. "I guess no one really knows until they get there, huh?" he asked.

Albus nodded.

"So...what's your name?" Al asked.

The boy shook his head, as if he was coming out of a daze. "Oh. How rude of me. I'm sorry. I'm Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy." He said, extending his pale arm for Albus to shake.

Albus shifted his weight, then smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Scorpius." he said, shaking the boy's hand.

The boy smiled, then looked down.

"What's the matter?" Albus asked.

"Oh, nothing...it's just...usually whenever someone hears the name "Malfoy, well...they tend to avoid me if at all possible. Either due to my being a Malloy, or because of the…rumors."

“Rumors?…Oh you mean that “Son of Voldemort” nonsense? Yeah, what a load of rubbish. People will believe just about anything these days.” Albus shook his head.

Scorpius beamed.

“I know! I mean look at me! I’m like my Dad’s clone!”

Albus nodded his head in understanding.

"I understand. Trust me, I do. I’m practically my Dad in looks as well. That’s about as far as it goes, though. We’re very different, me and him. But I don't really care what your surname is. You're just Scorpius to me.”

“And you’re just Albus to me. Or…do you prefer Al?” Scorpius asked.

Albus thought for a minute.

“I prefer Albus.”

Scorpius grinned. "Ok. Albus. I’m glad my name didn’t put you off. So...what house do you think you'll be in?"

Albus shrugged. "I don't know. My brother's been teasing me that I'll end up in Slytherin, but..."

"Why tease? If you go there, you go there. All my family's been in Slytherin, and I really doubt that I'll be the one to break tradition." Scorpius said.

"Really? But you’re so nice."

"Not all Slytherins are bad people, Albus. The house just has a bad reputation. Slytherin house is for the crafty. People with Ambition, Cunning, Determination, Resoursefulness...does that sound like a bad thing to have?" Scorpius asked.

"No...I guess not." Albus muttered.

"Then stop worrying. No matter where you end up getting sorted, it'll be right for you. What are your traits?"

"Huh?" Al asked.

"What do you like to do? Do you read alot?"

Al shook his head.

"Not really. I mean, I'm fairly smart, but that title goes to Rose."

"Do you try to break up fights with other people? Are you courageous?"

"Not much. Confidentially, I don't really have alot of self-confidence. And I'm a bloody coward! You know I'm afraid of flying? Yes, son of Harry Potter, world's greatest seeker and Ginny Potter, celebrated player for the Hollyhead Harpies, afraid of a broom."

Scorpius smirked.

"Are you loyal? Would you stick by them through thick and thin?"

"Honestly...yes. But...Oh no...I'm going to be a Hufflepuff!"

"You don't know that, Albus. Hufflepuff's aren't that bad anyway."

Albus huffed. "I'd rather be in Slytherin."

Scorpius smirked again.

Albus blinked. What had he just said?

"Wait. I...no...I didn't mean..."

"Slytherin's not looking so bad after all, is it, Albus?”

"I never said it'd be bad..."

Scorpius smirked.

"Face it my friend. We're halfway to Hogwarts, we haven't even been sorted yet, and you're already acting like a Slytherin."

Albus smiled. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, being a Slytherin. That house got an awful name for itself.

"I still say I'll be in Hufflepuff." Albus frowned.

Scorpius just laughed.

As the train pulled in to the Hogwarts station, Albus felt himself tense with worry. What was going to happen here? His fate lied behind those walls. Would he actually be sorted into Slytherin? He couldn't process it. What would happen? What would everyone say if he WAS sorted into Slytherin? Would people think less of him? His father said that they wouldn't.

However, Albus couldn't shake the feeling that, not only was he going to be sorted into Slytherin, but he had a destiny much greater than that of his father.

"Come on, mate." Scorpius patted his back as they were exiting the train. "You can't stare at the castle forever."

Was that what he had been doing? Albus couldn't remember. He just knew that he'd spaced out for a minute.

"Mate?" Scorpius asked.

"I'm...okay. It's just a lot to take in."

"Well, we're here. Don't think negative thoughts anymore. You'll be sorted into whatever house you're sorted in. There's no use whining like a child."

Albus sighed, a deep heavy sigh.

Apparently Scorpius had thought that Albus had been worried that he would be sorted into Slytherin. He was, but not as much as before. His talk with Scorp had cured him of that.

"Well?" Scorpius asked.

"Let's go." Albus said with determination.

It was a short boat ride across the water to the castle. Albus was so nervous he was shaking. More than once the boat rocked and Albus clung to Scorpius tightly.

“Don’t let me fall in.” Albus muttered to Scorpius.

“Of course not. You’ll be fine, Albus.”

After the boats, it was not a long walk up the steps to the Great Hall. However, it felt like an eternity to Albus to walk with every step.

His feet felt as if they were filled with led, and walking was becoming a chore.

Scorpius had to keep him steady more than once.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Scorpius asked him as they waited outside the Great Hall.

Albus nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I don't know what's gotten into me. I'll be fine with a little bit of rest."

Scorpius looked wary. "I dunno. You don't look so good. You may be coming down with something. No good can come out of almost falling into the Great Lake."

Albus snorted.

"Har har."

They waited outside the doors that led to the Great Hall for quite awhile. It seemed like forever until Professor Longbottom came to get them.

"It's time. Follow me."

The doors to the Great Hall opened before them and they got to take in the scenery around. Candles floated just above their heads, right below a huge ceiling that looked like the night sky. Apparently, it was bewitched, informed Rose. Just like her to know everything. A complete know-it-all that one.

"When i call your name, you will come up, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted. There will be no fighting a troll, or any of that rubbish you might've heard before coming here." Neville said.

Albus breathed a sigh of relief. James had said he'd have to fight a troll, but Albus didn't really believe him. It was only now that his mind was put completely to rest.

"Faye, Abbot!"

A small, skinny girl with blonde hair went up to the stool and sat down.

"Hufflepuff!"

She took off the hat and went to go sit with her new house-mates.

"Braksley, Tomas!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Braksley, Abbot!"

"Slytherin!"

"Oh...that's sad. Separating twins in different houses. And rival houses, at that." Scorpius whispered to Albus.

Albus could do nothing but nod his head in agreement.

"Cabbot, Amanda!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Dursely, Hope!"

"Hufflepuff!"

And so on and so on went the list of first years to be sorted. He was tuning them out until he heard,

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

It took awhile, but the hat finally bellowed out,

"Slytherin!"

Scorpius went to the Slytherin table. Al noticed how Neville's face was unsurprised.

"Nott, Ragen!"

"Slytherin!"

"Otterpole, Jasmine!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Potter, Albus!"

Albus walked up nervously. His fears were coming back to him, though he couldn't understand why. He decided that he would just sit there. Do nothing. Let the hat make it's own decision on where he thought Albus would be best sorted.

It seemed like an eternity, but finally the house shouted,

"Slytherin!"

And to tell you the truth, Albus wasn't that surprised. His family; however, was. There was an outraged cry from the Gryffindor table that Albus was sure had come from his brother. "No way!" He'd heard. But Professor Longbottom hushed him up real quickly while Albus headed over to the Slytherin table.

Scorpius grinned at him.

"I told you, yeah?" he grinned.

Albus pushed his shoulder playfully.

"Prat."

"First years! Follow me to the dormotories!" A prefect yelled. "Follow me!"

Albus and Scorpius found themselves sleeping next to each other, their beds very close. That night, Albus fell asleep. When he awoke the next morning, however, he was not at Hogwarts.

He was back in the cupboard.