Albus Potter steps off the stone staircase at the top and watches professor Longbottom knock on the wooden door. A clicking sound makes Albus jump and the door opens very slowly. Professor Longbottom gestures for Albus to enter the room. He flashes him an encouraging smile before closing the door behind the young boy. Albus looks around, his hands wringing and his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Nerves settling in his stomach as he doesn't see professor McGonagall. He's alone in the Headmistress office. Professor Longbottom didn't tell him why he was being called here. But something tells him it must be about the Gryffindor student he punched after he caught him bullying Scorpius. Albus balls his hands into fists at the thought of what had happened yesterday.
Scorpius and Albus have talked a lot on the Hogwarts Express and in their first two weeks of being at Hogwarts. Albus never really relates to anyone, or feels comfortable around others, but with Scorpius he does. He feels appreciated, accepted for who he is. He feels seen. The things he has been searching for the past few years, but couldn't find. He found that in Scorpius. It feels good to have someone, that's in the same house, that has your back and sees him for the person that he is, Albus Severus Potter. Scorpius doesn't see him as the son of Harry Potter. The Slytherin son of Harry Potter.
They were on their way back to their common room after dinner when Albus saw the Gryffindor student bully the boy he has been considering his friend. Albus didn't hesitate to jump into action at the sight of the scene. He had jumped in between the two boys, pushing Scorpius behind him, and had told the student to leave him alone. The student had shoved him into Scorpius, calling him the Slytherin Squib. The tall, blonde boy had caught him, preventing him from falling. He didn't know any useable hexes or charms, so he wouldn't stand a chance in a duel, but he didn't need a wand to confront the other student. As the Gryffindor got ready to throw more insults at Scorpius, Albus lunged forward. His hand balled into a fist, connecting to the boy's jaw. Teachers and the Slytherin prefect had been quick to act and pulled the boys away from each other as soon as the fight had started to enfold. They then had been send back to their common rooms. This morning professor Longbottom came to get him, saying he was to go to the Headmistress' office.
Albus' eyes try to take in everything he sees as he's wandering around the office. Most of the walls are covered in paintings. Paintings of famous wizards and old headmasters, they all turn around, watching Albus as he walks around the office. He can hear them whispering to each other, his name and his father's name are the only things he hears clearly. He sighs and wraps his arms around his chest, as if that will protect him from the staring eyes. An object on one of the shelves behind professor McGonagall's desk catches his attention. A shabby, tattered wizard's hat. The Sorting Hat. Albus looks at the door, trying to hear if there's any movement coming from behind it that can indicate professor McGonagall is coming, but there's complete silence. He walks towards the Sorting Hat, feeling the eyes of the many portrait's on the wall burning through his cloak, but he tries to ignore it.
Albus has been spending a lot of time thinking if he has been sorted in the right house. If Slytherin really is where he belongs. Hell, he doesn't even know if he actually belongs in any of the houses, or this school for that matter. Albus quietly walks around the desk, gently picking up the Sorting Hat. He examines the hat, but when looking at it like this, it just looks like a really old hat. He slowly lowered the hat onto his head. It slips down over his eyes and ears, surrounding him by darkness. He closes his eyes, releasing a sigh as he's waiting for the hat to speak.
'Albus Potter,' Albus slightly jumps when the soft voice starts to speak to him. 'What a surprise to be placed onto your head again.'
'I'm- eh, I'm sorry to bother you. I just- I wanted to ask-' Albus mutters, not being able to find the right words to say.
'You have been wondering if you were put in the right house,' the hat says, as if being able to read his mind.
There was a silence that filled the space around the boy and the Sorting Hat resting on top of his head. A silence in which Albus didn't know what to say. He hadn't said it out loud before, to anyone, that he wasn't sure if he was put in the right house. But he could hear students whisper it to each other. Wondering how a Potter, HarryPotter'sson, could have been sorted into Slytherin rather than Gryffindor. The house where his older brother, James Sirius Potter, has also been sorted in and he has no doubt that his little sister, Lily Luna Potter, would be sorted into Gryffindor as well.
'Just like your father.'
Albus flinches at the mention of his father. Just like your father, he doesn't know what the Sorting Hat meant but he doesn't know if he wants to hear about another thing he has in common with his father. He raises his hands up to the rim of the hood, wanting to take it off, but it calls out his name again.
'Albus Potter, I can feel the fear of being like your father deep inside of you. In his second year he put me on top of his head for the second time. He wasn't sure if he was sorted in the right House. The Dark Lord had gotten through to his head, convinced him he was just like him. Surely it was hard sorting your father, he had great potential. Possessed qualities valued by every house. But it was always going to be either Gryffindor or Slytherin.'
'Slytherin?' Albus hates how small his voice sounds.
'Your father asked me not to put him in Slytherin,' the Sorting Hat explains. 'A shame really. It was all in his head. Slytherin helps wizards on their way to greatness. When I look inside of your head, Albus Severus Potter. I see potential. You can do great things. Determined to prove yourself. A disregard for rules. When I look inside of your head I see your father-'
Albus grabs the point of the Sorting Hat and pulls it off. It hangs limply in his hand, as if it's a normal hat and not one that speaks to you when you put it on. Albus pushes it back onto its shelf, feeling his stomach turn.
'You're wrong,' he says, staring up at the still Sorting Hat. 'I'm nothing like my father.'
'You're not going to find the answers to your questions from that old thing,' Professor McGonagall's voice rings through the room and Albus jumps a mile.
He turns around quickly, guilt written all over his face for snooping around her office.
'I'm- I'm sorry, Professor. I was- I was just-'
'Don't worry. Have a biscuit, mister Potter,' she says as she holds out a cookie jar.
Albus quietly takes one of the biscuits as his eyes take another quick look at the Sorting Hat.
'Are you having doubts about whether you were put in the right house?'
Professor McGonagall walks up to her desk, turning around to face Albus. Her eyes piercing into his. He takes a tiny bite of the biscuit before nodding his head, admitting that he does have doubts.
'Slytherin is often painted as the house to school bad wizards,' Professor McGonagall flashes a small smile when Albus flinches. 'But Slytherins are so much more than that. They're cunning, they're resourceful, they're ambitious. They're determined.'
Albus thinks of all the stories that his father told him about the amazing wizards that have been in Slytherin. Then Scorpius' face pops up in his mind. Scorpius who has been so incredibly kind to everyone he has met. He stayed kind even when they were horrible to him. There is no bad bone inside of that boy's body and he is a Slytherin.
'The house is not determined by the wizards it teaches. Just like the wizard isn't determined by the house it's in. Nobody can tell you what kind of wizard or person you have to be. Not your father. Not the Sorting Hat. Not me. It's our choices that that show who we truly are, far more than our abilities. The only person that chooses what kind of wizard you're going to be, who you are going to be, is you.'
Albus looks up at her, a smile on his face. He knows she's right. He's the one controlling his own life and his own future. It doesn't matter if he's in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Slytherin. The only thing that matters is that he's Albus Severus Potter and he's a student at Hogwarts, trying to become the Wizard he knows he has always wanted to become. For now that was enough.
'But there is one thing that I'm going to be choosing for you,' Professor McGonagall looks at him, her face stern and Albus smiles sheepishly at her. 'And that is the punishment for your actions yesterday.'