The crowd rushes past me, swerving frantically, wheeling owls and suitcases hurriedly throughout Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Chatter fills the air, sounds of goodbyes and farewells and whatnot.

A grin begins to form across my face as I stare up at the gleaming scarlet train before me. This is it. After eleven years of waiting, of having to listen to James and Fred and Molly and all my other cousins chatter about their adventures at school, I'm finally off to Hogwarts!

I take a moment to glance back at my family. Mum smiles encouragingly, tears pooling in her eyes. Dad grins, pride filling his bright green eyes. "Good luck, Albus!" Uncle Ron hoots, embarrassingly loud. "Don't worry, I'll try not to kill you if you don't get into Gryffindor, but no guarantees!"

I let out a sigh, chuckling. Uncle Ron is hilarious, though maybe a little too bent on every single Weasley and Potter getting into Gryffindor. I feel bad for Rose; if she isn't a Gryffindor, it will take at least six months for her hot-headed dad to blow off his steam.

Lifting up my trunk and Ploof, my salt-and-pepper colored rabbit, I take a deep breath as I prepare to step onto the train, relishing the moment. Right now begins a new stage in my life. I'm no longer a scrawny eleven-year-old boy with messy black hair that never seems to flatten out. Today, I'm finally a real wizard!

Not bearing to hesitate any longer, I hoist up my trunk and step onto the train, ready to begin my new life as a strong, smooth, manly man.

And that's when I stumble over the steps and fall flat on my face.

Shrieks of laughter echo through my ears, coming from both the train and the platform. I feel my face flush beet red as I try to pick myself up, my arms and chin throbbing. Even worse is that I had landed with my legs on either side of the arm rail, and there I sit, straddling the rail, suffering from excruciating pain in the place where you do not want excruciating pain to occur. And just when I think it can't get any worse, I feel my trousers rip, probably revealing my underwear to the whole wide world!

"Yeah, Albus!" my cousin Fred hoots from behind me. "You're off to a great start!"

"At this rate, you'll be the most popular boy in your year!" adds James, laughing hysterically behind Fred.

I bite my lip as hard as I can to suppress the tears that threaten to come. I guess that "strong, smooth, manly man" idea isn't exactly working out that well for me so far.

As usual, I plaster a goofy grin onto my face. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I call that move the Nutcracker!"

The crowd bursts out laughing again at my witty and slightly inappropriate remark. That's my strategy for when embarrassing things happen to me. Just grin and laugh along with the crowd, and you'll feel much better. As I lift myself off the railing, I feel my embarrassment fading away, even though my trousers are ripped and pretty much my entire body is throbbing. I haven't even gotten onto the train yet, and I'm already the joke of my year.

To be honest, being the joke of my year doesn't feel all that bad. If you don't let yourself feel bad, you won't feel bad. I've learned that from eleven years of enduring countless embarrassing situations.

Lifting my head up proudly and ignoring the embarrassment lurking deep down inside me, I attempt to climb up the train again, this time successfully. I realize that I've been clutching Ploof so tightly that I've nearly strangled him. "Sorry, Ploo-Ploo," I mutter.

I swear that I see my own rabbit snicker my mortifying situation.

I'm careful to wheel my trunk up against the back of my pants to cover up the wide, gaping hole in them. As I enter, the whole train applauds and laughs, to which I grin and wave.

I've learned another lesson over the years, too: If it seems like people are laughing at you, laugh along with them, and they'll laugh with you instead.

Shouts of "Oh look, it's the Nutcracker!" ring out among the kids, and I have a gut feeling that I will be stuck with that nickname for the rest of my life.

All the compartments are almost full, so I have trouble finding one. There's a compartment containing Lucy, Dominique, Molly, Roxanne, Fred, Lorcan, Lysander, Laurel, and James, but it's stuffed to the brim. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to listen to their taunts. I have a feeling that they will never, ever let me forget this.

After awhile, I finally come across a compartment that contains just one girl, someone who I don't recognize. Being the son of Harry Potter, I already know some of the kids in my year, but I don't think I've ever seen this girl. She has a dark brown ponytail with a bright red streak in it, deep blue eyes, and tan skin; she's actually very pretty, in her own casual, tomboyish way. She lounges on the seat, perusing a copy of Hogwarts: A History lazily. I just hope she didn't see what happened to me...

I swing open the compartment door, and she jerks quickly to face me. "Whoa, there!" she yelps, startled. I notice that she has a strong northern American accent. She must be from New York or Boston or something. "You know, there's a brilliant thing that people like to do sometimes, and it's called 'knocking'."

I stand there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to her snippy remark.

The girl produces a mischievous grin that resembles the Weasleys' permanent smirk so much that it's kind of creeping me out. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in, I think there's some room to spare!"

I return her smile, happy that she didn't taunt or snap at me. "Thanks," I reply, placing my trunk under one of the seats. "What's your name?"

"I'm Cat," she says, putting down the book and holding out her hand. "And yours?"

I grasp her hand and shake it. "Albus Potter."

Cat's eyebrows furrow. "Potter…that sounds familiar. See, since I'm not from England, my mom made me read this book about the First and Second Wizarding Wars, and also this copy of Hogwarts: A History -" She gestures to the ginormous book in her hand. "just so that I know what's going on all the time. And the book talked about this guy named Harry Potter who defeated Voldemort and stuff. Are you related to Harry Potter, by any chance?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm his son."

Cat nods too, stretching her legs out on her seat. "That's cool. Must be kinda hard, though. Is everyone all obsessed with how you're his son?"

I find it strange that I've just met Cat, and she is exactly right about my general situation in life. When I go out with my family, I just have to pretend that I don't see the stares or hear the whispers. They aren't nearly as common as they were years ago, but I'm sure that I'll be getting a lot of attention at Hogwarts because of my dad.

"Yeah, it is. Sometimes people treat me differently because of it."

Cat smiles at me. "Well, don't worry, I won't treat you any different. I know what it's like."

I raise my eyebrows. "Is one of your parents famous, too?"

Cat nods, averting her eyes for the first time. "Edgar Riddley. President of the US. He's my dad."

It takes all of my willpower not to gape. Somehow, I can't picture that Cat, a girl wearing an old t-shirt and ripped-up jeans, is the daughter of the leader of one of the most powerful political empires in the world. Then again, some people seem surprised that I, the son of the Boy Who Lived, am not a rich snob, even though everyone knows that Harry Potter is as humble as you can get. Really, I don't have the right to judge her.

"Oh, that's - that's cool," I'm careful not to sound too shocked. "Is he a wizard? Or is your mom a wizard?"

"My mom's a witch, and my dad's a Muggle," Cat replies. "My mom is from England, and she went to Hogwarts. Oh, and in case you're wondering, I'm an American exchange student, though that much is probably pretty obvious."

"Yeah, it kind of is, seeing as you have an American accent and your dad is the President," I respond, and we both laugh. "What part of America are you from?"

"Well, we're currently in D.C., but I'm from Mystic, Connecticut," she says. "If you don't know what that is, it's a state in New England that's east of New York, west of Rhode Island, and south of Massachusetts. It's north of Long Island Sound. Oh, and in case you don't know what New England is, it's the northernmost part of America, on the East Coast. It's basically Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Rhode Island -"

"It's okay, I know what New England and Connecticut are!" I interject, laughing.

Cat blushes. "Oh. Sorry you just had to endure a North American geography lesson."

"Yeah, those two sentences were absolutely unbearable," I laugh. "You just wasted a full ten seconds of my life. Shame on you, Kitty-Cat. Shame on you."

Cat sticks her tongue out at me, punching me lightly on the arm. "Yeah, you could have been doing something more productive, like looking at your right hand."

"What? I don't get it – WA!"

I jerk back as I realize that my right hand is now tinted a very, very noticeable hot pink. There are bright red letters on my palm: "I am a complete, utter, undeniable idiot."

"How did this get here?" I ask, scared out of my mind as Cat begins smirking. "How did you – Oh, I see."

The clues begin to form together. When I shook Cat's hand earlier, she must have somehow snuck some tattoo thing onto it!

Cat holds up a bright pink plastic bag. "Invisible Palm-Stickers, brought to you by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! They're brilliant! You just stick the invisible adhesive end to your palm, shake someone's hand, and then they're stuck with that mark for eight hours!"

Normally, I'd be kind of annoyed, but that prank was clever. Take it from the guy who grew up getting pummeled by Weasley pranks. Cat starts laughing softly, then I join her laughter, and in a matter of seconds, we're shrieking hysterically at the pure ridiculousness of what just happened. "That was brilliant!" I gasp. "I can already tell you're gonna be trouble!"

Before either of us can say anything else, the compartment door opens, revealing a blonde boy with bright grey eyes and a friendly smile marking his face. However, no matter how hard we try, we can't stop laughing. The boy raises his eyebrows. "Listen, I realize that I'm not the most good-looking guy on the block, but is this really necessary?"

We start laughing even harder. "No, it's not you!" Cat gasps through her laughs. "Look at the guy's hand!"

I hold up my hand for the boy to see, and he chuckles. "So I see you've been caught red-handed?"

"Ha, that was so punny!" I respond, making another horrible pun of my own.

Cat groans. "Oh no, must you throw puns into this?"

"Why so annoyed?" the blonde boy asks. "This is so much pun!"

I start laughing at his second pun. "Well, come into our compartment! Here on the Hogwarts Express, we'll 'train' you to make better puns!"

"Whoa, there, I think you're going down the wrong track!" the boy exclaims, and we start laughing again.

"What the heck, you're making me lose my train of thought!" Cat retorts, earning another round of laughter and groans.

"So what's your name, blondie?" Cat asks once we've settled down.

"Scorpius," he says. "Scorpius Malfoy. Nice to meet -"

"Malfoy?!" Cat and I let out at the same time, giving each other a worried glance. Did he just say Scorpius Malfoy? As in, the son of Draco Malfoy, my dad's old arch nemesis?

Scorpius sighs. "Here we go again. Listen, I'm not as bad as my dad. Well, hopefully not."

"Oh, I wasn't judging you," I clarify. "I just…uh…"

"It's okay," Scorpius says, plopping down next to Cat. "I'm used to it. So, what's your name?" He looks at Cat.

"I'm Cat," she answers. "American exchange. I think I read about your dad in a book."

Scorpius wrinkles his nose. "Really? Well…how'd you like him?"

"He sucked."

Surprisingly, Scorpius doesn't seem offended. "What was the book?"

"It was Hermione Granger's autobiography."

"Oh, okay," Scorpius says, nodding. "Yeah, my dad and Hermione weren't exactly the best of friends."

Cat purses her lips. "That much I could tell. But whatever. Anyway, nice meeting you, Scorp," She holds out her hand, and Scorpius reaches for it.

"Don't!" I yelp.

Scorpius raises his eyebrows, and I lift up my hand. He nods, chuckling, and withholds his hand from Cat's reach. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

"Dang it," Cat mutters. "Oh well, I still have seven years' worth of pranking opportunities for you guys, so you'd all better watch your backs, especially you, Potter."

"What? Why me?" I protest.

"'Cuz you're so prankable."

"Well, thanks, I'm just feeling the love over here," I mutter sarcastically, smiling.

"Wait…you said his name was…Potter?" Scorpius asks.

I nod. "Yeah. I'm Albus Potter."

Instead of grimacing or widening his eyes, Scorpius smiles. "Well, hi, Albus."

The compartment door opens again, this time revealing a girl with singed auburn hair, a soot-covered face, and a traumatized expression.

"Ugh, Rose, were you playing Exploding Snap with Fred and Lucy again?" I groan.

My disheveled cousin holds up her hands in protest. "Hey, I've been practicing a lot, lately!"

I snicker. "Yeah, and look where that's gotten you."

Rose rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Albania."

"Okay, you really need to find a new nickname for me."

"We also need to find you a new brain, maybe your stupidity would decrease slightly. Oh, wait - I forgot. You're a hopeless case!" Scorpius and Cat laugh. Rose plops down next to me, facing Scorpius and Cat. "Hey, guys. I'm Rose Weasley, and I'm Albania Potty's cousin. He's kind of a nitwit, in case you haven't noticed."

"For the last time, my real name is not 'Albania'!" I snap.

"I love how you get mad at me for calling you 'Albania', and not for calling you a nitwit." She holds up her hand before I can interject. "What are your names?"

"I'm Cat," Cat replies. "Exchange student from America. Nice to meet you!" She holds out her hand.

"NO!" Scorpius and I shout at the top of their lungs.

Rose raises her eyebrows. "Albania, I know you're not fond of manners, but is a handshake really too classy for you?"

"Just don't!" I plead.

"Why?" she demands.

That's when I suddenly realize, What the heck am I doing? "Oh, I was…er…kidding."

Rose narrows her eyes, then shrugs. She grabs Cat's outstretched hand and shakes it.

All three of us burst out laughing as Rose, mortified, holds her newly pink hand up to her face. "What the heck is this?" she shrieks.

"Aw, Rose, what did you do to your hand?" Cat asks innocently. "Looks like a terrible accident." She puts emphasis on the word 'accident' as we laugh even harder.

After the five seconds it takes for Rose to grasp what just happened, she begins laughing too, and we all just sit there and laugh until a prefect opens the door and tells us to quiet down. Unfortunately, he leaves before Cat can offer him a handshake.

"So," Rose says once we've calmed down. "What's your name?" She gestures at Scorpius.

"Scorpius Malfoy," he replies. "Wait...you're Ron and Hermione's daughter, aren't you?"

"The one and only," Rose analyzes Scorpius, then glances over at me, as if to say, Is he okay? I give her a reassuring nod.

"Well, nice to meet you, Scorpius Malfoy. Anyway," Rose continues. "If you had the choice, what houses are you all headed to?"

"I have no clue," Cat says. "And I'm glad I don't know. That way, the Sorting will be more of an adventure. But my mom was a Slytherin when she went to Hogwarts, and she really, really wants me to be a Slytherin, too. Therefore, out of rebellion, I don't want to be in Slytherin."

"Your mom went to Hogwarts?" Scorpius asks.

"Yeah," Cat says. "She's from England."

I notice that she doesn't add that her father is the President, so I decide not to mention it.

"That's cool. I know I'm going to Ravenclaw," Rose says. "There's pretty much no doubt about that. I mean, my hobbies are writing, reading, acting, and music, and I find that Ravenclaws tend to be into music and writing and all that jazz. Plus I'm proud of my insanity, so I think that makes me a Ravenclaw."

"You're proud of your insanity?" I scoff.

Rose shrugs, turning to me. "Yep. Being eccentric is very fun. Being smart is also fun, you should try it sometime."

"Hey!" I protest. "Just because your vocabulary is unreasonably advanced doesn't make me dumb! And nobody says 'eccentric' anymore!"

Rose turns to the other two, ignoring me. "Don't worry, I'm not nearly as mean as I probably sound right now. I'm just mean to him, you know, because he's my cousin, and he's a nitwit."

"Yeah, you strike me as the Ravenclaw type," Scorpius says. "But to be honest, I think you might be more of a Slytherin. Albus, five galleons that she'll end up in Slytherin."

I snort. "You're on. There's no way. To be honest, I'm not sure where I'm headed. Gryffindor, maybe?"

Deep down inside, I have a gut feeling that there is no way I'll ever be a Gryffindor.

"Gryffindors rule!" Scorpius exclaims.

"Are you sure you're related to Draco Malfoy?" Rose questions. "What about you, Scorpius?"

"Anything but Slytherin," he responds proudly.

"What?" I interject. "But…but you're a Malfoy! Hasn't your entire family been in Slytherin?"

"My point exactly," Scorpius affirms. "And I'm sick of it. Father tries to cover it up, but I can tell he really, really wants me to be a Slytherin. Really, I'm surprised he married a Ravenclaw. But I don't want to be your average stuck-up Malfoy. It sounds crazy, but I just want to be something different. You guys know what I mean?"

The three of us nod, though I don't know if I can relate to that or not. I mean, I get what he's saying; the Malfoys haven't exactly earned the World's Favorite Family award. I guess he doesn't want to be the stereotypical Slytherin Malfoy. But I'm in the complete opposite situation; I don't want to be different than the rest of my cousins and aunts and uncles and family. I just want to be a Gryffindor so that I don't disappoint them. Sure, if I don't get Gryffindor my parents would be nice about it, but James and the others would never let me hear the end of it.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Rose says. "I feel kind of the same way. Almost every Weasley was or is a Gryffindor. Part of me wants to be a Gryffindor to fit in with them, but part of me wants to get into a different house, just to try something new."

Well, I guess that's kind of how I feel. I want to be a Gryffindor like the rest of my family, but at the same time, a small part of me wants to be a little bit...different.

There's a knock on the door, and the lady with the snack cart stands outside our compartment door. We open it for her. "Any snacks from the trolley, loves?"

We pool in a few galleons and purchase some Cauldron Cakes, some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a few Chocolate Frog cards. For the next fifteen minutes or so, we munch on the snacks and talk some more about our backgrounds.

Cat tells us that being the president's daughter isn't all it's cracked up to be. She's constantly being followed around by security guards whenever she goes out of the house, even to walk her dog. Whenever she wants to practice Quidditch on her Pantherpaw (the newest and fastest Quidditch broom to date), she has to get one of her wizard guards to install 22 Muggle-repelling and disillusionment charms. Cat is constantly being compared to her three older sisters, all of whom excel in everything from school to looks to popularity. They're 'stuck-up idiots' as Cat put it, and her parents obviously favor them over her. When she was asked to be part of BAWEEP (British-American Wizarding Education Exchange Program), she agreed readily. She was bored to death of the White House, of her rigid, uptight parents who don't approve of her "un-ladylike pastimes" (Quidditch)

Rose admits to the others that the only things she's really good at are music, writing, and academics ("and being a prat," I added, to which she slapped me).

We've never really figured out why, but Rose is an actual musical prodigy. She can play the clarinet, saxophone, cello, violin, oboe, piano, bass clarinet, and...there was one other, but I forgot. I think she's starting to fool around with a trumpet. We don't know where her skill came from; the Weasleys aren't really a musical family. Ever since she started learning to play the piano at age three, she's been steadily increasing the amount of instruments she is capable (and very good at) playing. Normally, the Weasleys probably wouldn't be able to afford all those instruments, but Rose pays for them by competing and winning in Muggle talent contests and stuff like that. She also makes quite a lot by standing on street corners and playing her instruments, while people drop money into whatever instrument case she brings along.

I guess I would be kind of jealous of Rose, but her skill in music and academics balances out almost everything else; she's incredibly clumsy, horrible at running, and even worse at Muggle sports. She's not a bad Keeper in Quidditch, though. I hate to admit it, but she's actually pretty impressive. Rose can't play any other position, though, especially Beater. Often she ends up whacking her forehead rather than the Bludger.

I tell them that I'm great at Quidditch, good at math, not great at music, and absolutely hopeless at cooking. I'm the only person I know who can manage to make Jello explode without even trying. I don't really have that much to say about myself; I'm a very open person in general, and I have pretty much nothing to hide.

Scorpius rants about how his parents don't approve of his ambition to be an artist one day. Apparently (although he specifically clarifies that he's not trying to brag) his art skills are highly advanced, and he's always cooped up in his room, painting or sketching or sculpting. He says that his parents have become somewhat nicer, though; they promised themselves that they would make friends with other Wizarding families instead of being rejected among society. And it's working – they have a much better reputation then before, and now Draco Malfoy is a good, changed man. However, he and his wife, Astoria, still don't like the idea of their son being artsy rather than athletic.

Rose stretches her arms and yawns. "Okay, now that we've all shared anecdotes –" I snicker at Rose for her nerdy word choice, to which she rolls her eyes. "What should we do?"

I shrug, feeding a bite of Cauldron Cake to Ploof, who gobbles it up ravenously. That rabbit will eat anything. "We could tell corny jokes."

Scorpius grins. "Oh yeah!" We exchange a quick fist bump, causing Rose to groan.

"Ugh, that was so tacky," Rose moans, fake-gagging dramatically.

"Hey, you're the one who always high-fives everyone and still says 'groovy'!" I retort.

"Really?" Scorpius laughs. "Stuck in the Seventies much, Weasley?"

Rose reaches over and flicks his forehead playfully. "Oh, shut up…wait, I need to come up with an annoying nickname for you. How 'bout… Scorp?"

I snicker at her. "Wow, so clever, Rose. That one'll get you into Ravenclaw for sure."

"Hey, Scorpius is a hard name, Albania!" she protests. "Oh well, I'll just go with Scorp. Or maybe The Scorpion."

Suddenly, I realize that Scorpius is leaning on the table, resting one arm on his chin, smiling slightly and gazing longingly at Rose as if he's in some sort of trance.

"Uh, Scorpius? You okay, there?" I wave my hand in front of his eyes, to which he yelps and jerks back as his cheeks flush bright red.

"Oh, yeah. Just…just chillin'." He leans back in an attempt to appear casual.

A grin forms onto my face. "You are horrible liar!"

Scorpius rolls his eyes as his cheeks turn even redder. "Ha, ha, very funny."

Rose raises her eyebrows and purses her lips uncomfortably as I start laughing. "Whatever. So anyway, Cat, what do you think of England so far?"

Scorpius lets out a small sigh of relief that Rose changed the subject.

"I think it's pretty cool," Cat says. "Americans love British accents, but I still can't really tell the difference between a Yorkshire accent and a London accent. I've always wanted to see London, and I think it's awesome."

"Have you met anyone besides us, yet?" Rose asks.

"Hm…" Cat stops and thinks for a moment. "I met a bunch of kids over at Diagon Alley. Melissa Boot, Amanda Finch-Fletchley, and Matthew Wood. They seemed pretty nice, and I grabbed an ice cream with them. Apparently they'll all be in our year."

"Finch-Fletchley!" I blurt out. The other three give me puzzled looks.

A smirk spreads across Scorpius' face. "You're into Amanda Finch-Fletchley?" he says mischievously. "I'd love to hear about this..."

"No!" I retort. "It's just…the name rings a bell…"

Then again, all the last names ring a bell. I know that Boot and Davies went to school with Dad, too. But Dad told me the story about when Justin Finch-Fletchley, a guy in his year, accused him of trying to unleash a snake on him. What if this Amanda girl tries to get revenge on me at school? What if she does something bad to me? What if –

"Whoa, are you okay?" Rose cuts in urgently. "Your face is as pale as a ghost!"

"No," I mutter. "No, I'm fine."

Rose thinks for a moment, and then she snaps her fingers the way she does when she comes up with an idea. "Oh, is this about the whole Finch-Fletchley-Parseltongue incident that your dad told us about?"

I nod nervously, while she rolls her eyes. "Oh, relax, Albus, Finch-Fletchley was a Hufflepuff, and his daughter will probably be, too. Hufflepuffs aren't the vengeful type, so quit stressing over it."

Maybe that should have made me feel better, but I still hang down my head, staring at my feet, mulling over Amanda Finch-Fletchley's possible revenge plot.

Cat sighs, tossing me another Cauldron Cake. "Don't worry about whatever you're worrying about. You've got us, remember?"

I look up at her and smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

I suddenly realize that, for the past two minutes, I've been worrying about something that will not happen. How dumb am I? I do this all the time. I'll take one little thought, and somehow my crazy mind will blow it up into a huge stress-inducing situation, and I'll just over-think it nonstop. Chances are, Amanda Finch-Fletchley doesn't even know about the situation with her dad and my dad over two decades ago. In fact, my dad and Justin are probably friends now.

I turn my frown upside down, and, for the rest of the ride, we discuss school, Houses, professors, and all that jazz (did I really just say that?) At one point, we change into our robes (I had to hold them behind me to cover the gaping hole in my pants). Finally, after another half-hour or so, we arrive at Hogwarts.

I glance out the window as the train screeches to a stop. "Ah, finally!" I exclaim. Stretching out my legs and grunting, I stand up and open the compartment door, dying to get off the train and sprint my way to Hogwarts.

Some people snicker at me when I exit our compartment, courtesy of the whole 'Nutcracker' situation a few hours ago. I ignore them; I'm not going to let them ruin my first day at Hogwarts!

When the four of us finally stumble off the train steps (though I'm a bit more careful; I don't really want to reenact my previous situation), we stop for a moment to take it all in. The colors of dusk paint the sky, vibrant blues and purples and oranges glowing in the light of the setting sun. What adds to the magnificence is the castle looming in the distance, beyond the glistening waters. It's as majestic as I pictured it - even more majestic, actually. I take in deep breaths of the fresh air as kids pile excitedly out of the train, chattering with glee.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" calls a man whose voice I know all too well.

"Hagrid!" I call. I dash up to Uncle Hagrid and give him a big hug, which is soon joined by Rose. Hagrid isn't our uncle, of course, but he's so close with my family that he's like an uncle.

"Hi there, Albus, Rosie!" he grunts good-naturedly, enveloping us in his furry robes, his long silver beard tickling the top of my head. "I'm so glad you've fin'lly made it to Hogwarts!"

"Thanks, Uncle Hagrid," Rose replies, beaming.

Once we've broken away from Hagrid's embrace (and I think I've broken away a rib, too), Hagrid gestures at Cat and Scorpius, who are standing awkwardly nearby. "Who might these be?"

"These are our friends, Scorpius Malfoy and Cat Riddley," I respond brightly.

"Riddley?" Hagrid scratches his head. "Don't think I recognize that name. Did yer parents go to Hogwarts?"

"I'm an American exchange," Cat says. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too, Cat Riddley!" Hagrid says. "Now, Malfoy...that's a name I recognize."

Scorpius grins sheepishly. "Yup. I'm sure it is. Nice meeting you!"

I can tell Hagrid is a little uneasy, but he relaxes with Scorpius' friendly greeting. "You too...Malfoy..." I detect a hint of a grimace on his face. I don't blame him; after all, Scorpius's father did try to get him fired when he was at Hogwarts. "Alright, I've gotta go get all the firs' years into the boats. C'mon!"

We follow Hagrid as he beckons us forward, surrounded by about thirty or forty other kids. Cat waves to the trio whom I'm guessing are Melissa, Amanda, and Matthew, the kids she met at Diagon Alley. He leads us to the docks, where small wooden boats are tethered. The four of us hop into one of the boats.

When Rose steps onto our boat, it lurches slightly, to which Rose squeals, causing us to snort. "What?" she protests. "I just got a bit jumpy!"

"Yes, because it's so terrifying when the boat shifts two centimeters," Scorpius teases while we laugh, plopping down next to Rose. "I just wanted to scream bloody murder!"

Rose raises her eyebrows and smirks. "You know, Malfoy, if you screamed as loud as you could, maybe that would blow up my eardrums so that I wouldn't have to listen to you talk anymore."

Scorpius thinks for a moment, then smiles. "Touche, Weasley."

Our boat begins to move forward - without oars, I might add. We spend the next minute or so oohing and aahing at the magnificent landscape that lies before us. The sun is setting quickly; the sky is beginning to be shrouded in the cloak of night. Golden lights shine through the enormous castle, warm and inviting. It seems like heaven, a home away from home, exactly how I pictured it in all the Hogwarts tales I've heard. I want nothing more than to just burst through the huge double doors and...and...I really don't know. Have a treacle tart, perhaps?

"You excited?" I ask the others.

Rose looks at me skeptically. "No, Albus, nothing about going to the best school in world affects me in the slightest."

"Okay, fine, it was kind of a dumb question."

"Yeah, ya think?" Rose laughs.

"Hey, don't be a...a...um..." it takes a moment for me to think of a good, mean name. "Twit!"

"Shut up, Albus," Scorpius says.

"Hey!" someone calls.

We turn to the source of the noise, and find a group of kids laughing and hooting in our direction.

"Yeah?" Scorpius calls back.

The group starts laughing even harder. "Yeah, you, Ferret Boy Junior!"

Scorpius sighs.. "I knew that would turn up at some point," he moans.

Rose starts to laugh, to which I give her a questioning look.

"'Ferret Boy?'" Cat chuckles. "I don't get it, but okay."

"You mean you haven't heard the story of Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret?" Rose asks, grinning to herself. "Well, I guess that makes sense, I mean, you are an American."

"Thanks," Cat mutters.

I try to recall any memory of Draco the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, but nothing comes to mind. "I don't think I've heard that story, either."

Scorpius sighs. "Fine, I'll tell it.

"When my dad, Draco, was a Fourth Year, that Auror Mad-Eye Moody was the DADA teacher. So my dad and his gang of idiots were teasing some Gryffindors - Rose's and Albus's parents, actually - when Mad-Eye saw them and got mad. He was so mad that he transfigured my dad into a white ferret! So the ferret - I mean, my dad starting bouncing everywhere, and it eventually went into one of his friends' pants, then it came out and bounced around some more until McGonagall finally transfigured him back. It was a legendary moment, and no one has let him forget it since."

By the end of his story, both Scorpius and Cat and Rose are cracking up, and so am I. The image of Draco Malfoy as a bouncing white ferret is just too hilarious.

"I'm sorry!" I gasp through my laughter. "I don't mean to tease you or anything, it's just...ferret...bouncing...heeheeheee!"

We spend a few more minutes laughing over Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, which causes, to our satisfaction, the kids teasing Scorpius to give us confused looks and turn away. It's a good strategy - if someone's laughing at you, just start laughing too, as if it's the most hilarious thing in the world, and your teaser will shut up.

After awhile, we settle down, lounging back in the seats of the boats.

"So, what's up, Ferret Boy Junior?" Rose says smugly to Scorpius next to her.

"Shut it, Queen Weasel," Scorpius snaps, despite the fact that he's grinning.

I straighten myself up, grinning mischievously. "Hey, did you guys know that as part of the same genus, weasels and ferrets are, scientifically speaking, supposed to mate?"

"Shut up, Albus," Scorpius and Rose say in unison. Cat and I start howling with laughter, because I got exactly the reaction I was hoping for: both of their faces are beet red, as red as my right hand, and they're firmly avoiding eye contact with each other.

"Really, Albus?" Scorpius moans. "Did you really have to say that?'

"Admit it, Scorp, it was a good one," Cat says. The two of us exchange a fist-bump.

Rose and Scorpius are still sitting stiffly apart. "Um...let's just...let's just pretend that didn't happen, right?" Rose mumbles.

"That's what people say when describing your existence, Rose," I say. "They go, 'Let's pretend that didn't happen, right?'" Cat starts laughing, and we exchange another fist-bump.

"Wow, very funny, Albus," Scorpius replies, rolling his eyes.

"Will you quit ferreting around?" I retort.

"OH!" Cat shouts, clapping her hands together. "That was good!"

"Okay, fine, that was not a horrible pun," Rose sighs.

"Ha!" I exclaim. "You finally admit that I'm the king of puns!"

"I never said that!" Rose protests. "Besides, it was not very punny!"

There's a moment of silence, and then, almost as if on cue, Scorpius, Cat, and I shake our heads.

"Blimey, Rose that was horrible!"

"Awful!"

"That was just sad!"

Rose raises her eyebrows and looks at each of us helplessly. "What - I - was it really that bad?"

"Yes!" the three of us exclaim in unison.

Rose lets out another sigh. "Wow. I'm just feeling all the love in the air."

We talk for about five more minutes until Hagrid calls out from in front of us, "We're gettin' close, firs' years! When we reach the dock, follow me into the castle!"

Finally, the boat drags itself to the dock, and I watch as the torch light flickers on the others' faces while we hop off the boats.

The four of us stand as a group, gazing up at the castle looming above us, lights glowing through the windows invitingly. Scorpius shakes his head, smiling warmly. "Just think of all the trouble us four are going to cause here," he comments fondly, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

"We're going to be those kids who go on all the adventures and find all the secrets of the castle," Rose adds.

"Just like Dad and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione," I whisper with relish, thinking of those grown-ups who've been my role models for my whole life. We're going to be just like them. We'll be the heroes that always save the day. Even though the four of us have just met (with the exception of me and Rose), some bond has been formed between us on the train. I know deep down that we'll be inseparable all throughout our seven years of school.

"Just like them," Rose repeats.

Cat makes a fake gagging noise. "Guys, stop that, you sound like a soap opera!"

We laugh at Cat's great timing, and at how she's exactly right. "Wow, way to ruin the moment, Catnip," Scorpius snorts.

"Really? Catnip? That's the best you can think of?" Cat snickers.

"Would you prefer Kitty-Cat, or Meow Mix, or Litter Box-"

"I'll go with Catnip," Cat says quickly. "I don't think I could live with you calling me 'Meow Mix' for the rest of my life."

"'Meow Mix' it is!" Scorpius proclaims as Cat groans.

I suddenly notice something that I didn't before. "Wait...Cat, wasn't your hair brown before? Now it's more blonde, and it's longer."

Cat fingers a strand of her hair. "Oh, I'm a Metamorphagus. You know, where you can change your appearance whenever you want to? For some reason, I can only change my hair, though. Sometimes I can't control it, and my hair changes and I don't realize it. I usually just keep it brown with a bright red streak, but sometimes I turn it neon turquoise, just to annoy my parents."

"That's so cool!" Rose says. "Yeah, I thought you looked a little different than before. Aren't Metamorphagi pretty rare nowadays?"

"Yeah, they are," Cat replies. "My parents want me to use it to look prettier, but I refuse, just to rebel."

Scorpius's jaw is dropped in awe. "Whoa...so you can look however you want to? That's so awesome! So, you can, like, paint a picture in your own hair at will? Except without paint?"

"Come on, Artsy Boy," Rose says, grabbing his wrist with her bright pink hand and dragging him along as Hagrid leads us to the gates. "Hey, why is everyone staring at us?"

I look around and notice that she's right. A lot of other kids are gazing at us with interest. I lean over to the others. "Think about it. We're Weasley, Potter, Malfoy, and an American exchange. How do people not stare at us?"

"Ugh, I don't want to be a celebrity," Cat moans.

"Why not?" Scorpius asks. "Actually, I'd love to be a celebrity. That way all the ladies could admire my dashing looks!" He jokingly portrays a hilariously provocative pose, to which we burst out laughing, earning more stares.

"Scorpius!" Rose scolds with mock-sternness. "You should know that the ladies can't admire what you don't have!"

"OHHHH!" All four of us yell.

"OHHHH!" I hear someone else holler. I turn to see a rowdy group of guys applauding Rose's rather average comeback. "That girl has game!"

"Shut up!" Rose hollers back.

"OHHHH!" the guys call again, laughing. "Good one!"

I grin at Rose, nudging her side with my elbow. "Looks like you've got yourself a couple of admirers, Rosie!" I turn to Scorpius to see his reaction, and sure enough, he's glaring at the pack of guys as if they just threw out all his paintbrushes. I'm about to tease him when suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey, guys!" Dominique Weasley greets cheerfully, strawberry blonde hair glistening in the moonlight. Being one-eighth Veela, she's very, very pretty. Dominique is quite stylish, and she wants to move to Paris and become a fashion designer when she grows up. Honestly, I think that's where she'll end up one day; she's known for her flashy clothes and jewelry. You'd think she'd be kind of stuck-up, seeing as she's part-veela and obsessed with fashion, but actually Dominique is generally nice. Well, she's not afraid to say what she thinks of you, but she's an upstanding, respectable person.

"You all excited?" Lucy Weasley asks, grinning. Lucy is Uncle Percy's second-oldest daughter. Unlike Dominique, Lucy is a full-out tomboy; she never wears jewelry, doesn't care about fashion, and would rather spend her time devising one of her clever schemes. They say that she's a carbon copy of Uncle George and Uncle Fred when he was alive. No wonder; if you need to prank someone, Lucy is the person you go to. "Me, I can't wait for the Sorting. Gryffindor, here I come!"

I introduce Cat and Scorpius to them, and they make friends with each other pretty quickly. Within a few minutes, they're talking and laughing like old friends.

Hagrid leads us through the gates of Hogwarts as we stare up at the looming castle. My heart is beating so fast that I'm kind of nervous that other people might be able to hear it pounding. Not only am I dying to enter Hogwarts, but I'm also starving, even though I ate a lot on the train.

Yet at the same time, I'm shaking hard out of pure nervousness. For the whole train ride, I've tried not to think about my worst fear - becoming a Slytherin. If I'm sorted into Slytherin, what will my family say? From the stories I've heard from various family members, Slytherins are generally arrogant, cowardly, stuck-up prats. Then again, that might not be fair to say about all Slytherins, but it's possible. If I get into Slytherin, will I become a prat?

"Hey, Albus, which House are you headed to, if you've got the choice?" Dominique asks, almost as if she just read my thoughts. "Wouldn't want to end up in Slytherin, eh?"

"Um...I don't know," I answer quietly. I still haven't decided. I should want to be a Gryffindor; I mean, I'm a Weasley-Potter - that's two die-hard Gryffindor families! But it would be nice to be different from the rest of them, just to be unique. To be honest, being in Gryffindor wouldn't be too thrilling, just because my whole family is made of Gryffindors. "Anything but Slytherin, I guess. Maybe...Ravenclaw?"

"BAHAHA!" the two of them burst out laughing. "Albus Potter, if you're Ravenclaw material, then I'm the queen of Bulgaria!" Lucy snorts.

"Gee, thanks," I mutter. Really, just because I'm not as bright as Rose doesn't mean I'm that dumb! Well...actually, I think they're probably right. "Okay, fine, maybe not Ravenclaw. How about Hufflepuff?"

"Are you feeling okay, Al?" Dominique asks, feeling my forehead. "Since when do you not want to be in Gryffindor?"

"No!" I protest. "I mean...well, like...um..."

Lucy grins, shaking her head. "You are the worst liar I have ever known! So you really want to be a Hufflepuff?"

I nod sheepishly. "Actually, I think it'd be pretty cool."

The two girls look at me like I've just grown five extra ears. "Wait, so you think that kindness, loyalty, honesty, and fair play are actually more important than being brave?" Lucy scoffs, wrinkling her nose.

"Of course!" I say immediately.

Lucy and Dominique exchange a worried glance. "Let's get him to Madam Pomfrey as soon as we can," Dominique says as Hagrid leads us through the doors.

I find myself in a small, dimly lit room, surrounded by the rest of the kids in my year. I can hear the low rumble of a crowd right outside the open door ahead of me. A tiny Professor Flitwick stands upon a large stack of books, quieting everyone down.

"Alright, alright," he says merrily. "First years, welcome to Hogwarts School! My name is Professor Filius Flitwick, Deputy Headmaster, Head of Ravenclaw House, Choir Director, and Charms professor. As most of you bright folk know, with the exception of our Slyther - ahem, duller students -"

Snickers float through the crowd. "That's you, Albus," Scorpius whispers. I punch him on the arm.

Flitwick clears his throat. "Thank you. As most of you folks of varying intelligence know, the Sorting Ceremony is about to occur. When your name is called, you must enter the Great Hall through this door, and you will sit on the stool in the middle of the platform. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will..."

Flitwick goes on to explain the Sorting, even though everyone already knows what it is.

We've had Flitwick over for dinner before, since he taught both Mom and Dad. He seemed nice enough, with a dry, witty sense of humor. I'll have to see what he's like as a Charms professor...

"Alright, does everyone understand?" he asks, concluding his speech, to which we murmur in assent. "Very good. Just stay calm and relax. The Sorting Hat doesn't kill anyone. Well, at least not usually. We've had some strange reactions in the past...anyway, good luck to you all!"

He exits the room, and I can hear the Sorting Hat singing its song gleefully outside the door.

"Strange reactions?" I murmur. "That sure put the butterflies in my stomach to rest."

"Hello, everyone!" a girl says, interrupting the silence. "I'm Aella, and I'm new to this wizard thing, you know, because I'm Muggle-born. Tell me, does the Sorting Hat have a name?"

Some murmurs float through the crowd, until finally someone replies, "I don't think so."

"That's peculiar," Aella comments. "Maybe we should give it a name! It must be awful not to have a name, you know. Any suggestions?"

"How about Freddy?"

"Edwardo?"

"Primrose Everdeen?"

"Rocky?"

"Bob Marley?"

"Buddy?"

"That's it!" Aella states. "The Sorting Hat's new name is Buddy. When we get sorted, we should call him Buddy, okay?"

Some people give her confused looks, while some people respond enthusiastically, including Rose. "Okay!" she responds. "That's a good idea. You're right, not having a name probably sucks. I mean, a name sort of defines who you are."

"Perhaps it does," Aella muses. "Or maybe it doesn't..."

"That's true," Rose says, her voice taking on sort of a thoughtful tone. "What if a name just defines who other people say you are, not who you really are?"

"That could be!" Aella jumps in. "What if we all have real names, not just the names our parents gave us?"

"Honey, what on earth have you been drinking?" a guy says in a very sassy New York accent, earning a few laughs.

"I agree with her!" Rose asserts. "Think about it. What's in a name? What if we have real names that describe our true mortal essence?"

"Maybe I'll understand your idea when you translate that to English," Sassy-Guy says, earning some laughs and a pat on the back from the guy next to him.

"Yeah, and maybe I'll understand you when you stop talking in that obviously fake, pathetically executed New York accent," Rose responds, earning some more "Oooh!"s.

"Guys, shut up, the Sorting is gonna start any second!" another girl hisses, causing all of us to quiet down.

"Andrews, Natalie!" the squeaky voice of Flitwick rings out through the Great Hall.

A very small girl with dark hair and tan skin exits the room and strolls confidently onto the stage. We all gather around the door, craning our necks to watch as the hat - I mean, Buddy the Sorting Hat is placed on the girl, covering her eyes.

"Mm...yes, very interesting..." Buddy the Sorting Hat murmurs. "Yes, I know just the right place for you..."

"Wait for it..." Scorpius whispers loudly. "And..."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Applause erupts from the tables, especially the Gryffindor table, where a grinning Natalie Andrews jogs and plops down next to a prefect.

"Banks, Marigold!"

A taller girl with light brown hair and freckles walks nervously toward the door. Two other kids who look very similar to her pat her on the back as she exits. "The Banks are triplets," Rose says to me. "I wonder if they'll end up in the same house..."

Buddy the Sorting Hat is placed on Marigold's head.

"Hi, Buddy," Marigold says, giggling.

"Buddy? Mmm, okay. Well, hi there, Marigold. Anyway, I see that you're quite a bright young lady. Witty...wise...studious...Well, I don't think I'm going to have much trouble with this decision.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Marigold grins triumphantly, and her siblings cheer as she heads toward the Ravenclaw table. We watch as her sister Olivia Banks is sorted into Hufflepuff, and Peter Banks a Ravenclaw. Izzy Blackwater also becomes a Ravenclaw, along with Melissa Boot and Chris Corner.

"I think Hogwarts is having a nerd overload," Sassy Guy mutters, earning more laughs.

Amanda Finch-Fletchley is a Hufflepuff, Jeff and Michael Finnigan are Gryffindors, Selena Flint is a Slytherin, Mark Goldstein a Ravenclaw, Brandon Hare a Ravenclaw, Jackie Hassleberg a Hufflepuff, Jason Jordan a Gryffindor, Penelope Kaligaris a Slytherin, Hermes Kaligaris a Slytherin...

"I think we're gonna be waiting for quite awhile," I whisper. "None of us four will be sorted until we get to the M's..."

"You guys are lucky," Rose mumbles. "I have to wait till the W's. Am I the last one?"

"No, I am," a girl whispers haughtily with a toss of her hair. "Zabini."

"Ah," I say, nodding. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the guys tossing his hair prissily to imitate her, and I snort.

"Hey, about three-quarters of the kids so far have called the Sorting Hat by his new name!" Aella whispers excitedly. "I'm so proud of them! Keep up the good work, guys!"

I watch Professor Longbottom's daughter, Alice, become a Hufflepuff, and Bobby Macmillan also becomes a Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Scorpius stands still for a moment, and then a confident grin spreads onto his face. "Good luck, Scorp," We pat him on the back, and Cat high-fives him.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling even more. He marches onto the stage, and whispers erupt throughout the Great Hall. After all, he is a Malfoy, the son of a former Death Eater. Scorpius ignores the reaction and sits happily on the stool as the Buddy the Sorting Hat is placed on his head.

"Hi there, Buddy!" Scorpius says warmly.

"Okay, what's with the whole 'Buddy' thing? Is this some sort of new hipster trend that I don't know about?"

"A girl named Aella said that you should have a name," Scorpius responds. "You'll sort her in a few minutes."

"Hmph," Buddy grunts. "I'm going to have a little talk with her about that during her Sorting. Then again, I actually like my new name. It suits me. It kind of has a nice, friendly groove to it, you know?"

"Um, okay," Scorpius raises his eyebrows.

"Anyway, enough about me, let's discuss you, Mr. Malfoy. I sense something different in you...yes, something that I haven't seen in a Malfoy in hundreds of years..."

"Is it good looks?" Scorpius jokes. The kids at the tables erupt in laughter.

"No, I've seen my fair share of those," Buddy clarifies. "Especially with your father. He was pretty cute, I'd have to say,"

"Uh...what?" Scorpius shifts uncomfortably.

"Oh, sorry. You know that I have the intelligence of all four founders within me, including that of Miss Rowena Ravenclaw. She had quite a thing for Malfoys; did you know that she married one, eventually? And no, Mr. Malfoy, I am not gay, I'm neither male nor female! Oh, I'm sorry, there I go again, getting off topic. Okay, back to you. I see a rebellious streak in you, a desire to be unique, and courage - oh, quite a lot of it! And - I take it that...you don't want to be in Slytherin?"

"Never," Scorpius says proudly, causing gasps to resound through the hall. "Anything but Slytherin."

"Alright then, Harry Potter - er, Scorpius Malfoy. There is goodness in your heart, and but I can't see you as a Hufflepuff. No, Helga Hufflepuff would not approve of your deepest flaws."

"Gee, thanks," Scorpius mutters.

"My pleasure. You don't have to worry about being a Slytherin, by the way. You're cunning and very ambitious, yes, but...there's something about you that Salazar Slytherin wouldn't like..."

"Wow, I guess the founders really have a thing for me," Scorpius says, gaining even more laughs.

"Whoa, you need to calm down and...er...'go with the groove'. That's what the kids say these days, right?"

Scorpius shrugs. "Mm...sure."

"Good, I'm glad I'm 'in the lingo', as the kids say. Hm...hm, yes...oh yes, I see...mmhmm...yes, yes...oh yes, for sure. Scorpius Malfoy, if you follow your dreams, I know you'll go far in...

"RAVENCLAW!"

Scorpius jumps up and pumps his fist in the air. "Yes!" he shouts as the Ravenclaw table cheers. He removes the hat and literally sprints to his table.

I turn to the others, of which there are only about fifteen left. "Well, he seems satisfied."

"Apparently so," Rose says. "Out of us three, looks like you'll be going next."

My stomach does a quick flip-flop. I'm not the kind of person who can just march out in front of an audience confidently like Scorpius just did. But still, I can't wait for my name to be called. A strange mixture of nervousness and excitement is shooting up my spine.

"Marshall, Aella!"

"Yeah, Aella!" I high-five her as she walks toward the door. "You got this!"

"Thanks!" she replies, exiting onto the stage.

Buddy the Sorting Hat barely touches her head before calling out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The rest of us exchange glances. "I guess that one was pretty predictable," Rose says.

Brenda McAffrey becomes a Hufflepuff, Meredith Murphy becomes a Slytherin, and so does Phil Peach, and suddenly, before I know it...

"Potter, Albus!"

My body freezes up, paralyzed and unable to move. I feel everyone's gaze burning into me. "Go on, Al," Cat says, giving me a little push. "You've got this!"

"N-No I don't!" I moan.

Cat puts one of her hands on each of my shoulders, looking me right in the eye, penetrating me with her gaze. "Albus Potter. You are brilliant, and no matter what house you are sorted into, you are still brilliant. Understand?"

I feel a sense of warmth spread through me. Coming from anyone else, that wouldn't make much of a difference, but something about her firm tone and that determined look in her eyes...

"Now go out there and say hey to Buddy for me!"

Cat literally shoves me onto the stage, and I stumble toward the stool, staring out at the audience. I press my right hand to my side, careful to hide the letters that were imprinted onto it, courtesy of Cat. Calm down, Albus. Don't freak out. It's just a crowd...that's staring at you...and whispering...and pointing...

I remember Cat's words and push myself onto the stool, letting tiny old Flitwick place the hat onto me.

I take a deep breath, ready to hear Buddy the Sorting Hat's legendary words of wisdom that will reveal the very depths of my soul...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHH!"

Buddy lets out a deafening scream right into my ear. I scream just as loud and tumble off the stool, and guess how I fall? Flat on my face. Again.

Everyone in the Great Hall roars with laughter, even the teachers' table! I notice James and Fred literally rolling on the ground from laughing so hard. I feel my cheeks flush the color of the Gryffindor banner to my right. Remember your philosophy, Albus. Turn your embarrassing moment into a comedy act, and it'll all be better!

Instead of looking like a deer in headlights, I plaster on a grin and wave to the crowd as if they're applauding me for a Grammy award. "Thank you, thank you!" I call out over the din, bowing with a flourish, making them laugh even harder. It takes them quite a while to settle down, but they finally collect themselves when I sit back down on the stool. "Okay, Take Two," I tell Flitwick, who chuckles while dropping Buddy onto my head a second time.

"Listen," I tell Buddy. "I know I'm not the best-looking guy on the block, but am I really so hideous that you have to scream about it?"

Loud, hysterical laughter and clapping echoes through the Great Hall again. Okay, fine, I stole what Scorpius said when he walked into our compartment, but I'm sure he won't mind. I feel my embarrassment whip away. I'm not a laughingstock; I'm a comedian!

"Well, Mr. Potter, did you know that you are one-sixteenth Troll?"

"WHAT?!"

"Naw, I'm just kidding you! Anyway, would you, by any chance, like to know why I screamed when I was placed on your head?"

"Hm, yeah, that would be kind of nice.

A few awkward seconds pass.

"Hello?"

"Oh! Right, okay. I screamed because I've had so many Hatstalls today that I'm getting very fed up, and I can tell that you are probably going to be the longest Hatstall I've had in at least one hundred years!"

"Oh, great...wait, was that really the reason why you screamed?"

"Well...mostly...it was sort of an experiment, really. As soon as I touched your head, I realized that you would be a Hatstall. So, I screamed in your ear to see how you would react - whether you would burst into tears, storm off, say something witty - and now I have my data."

"So you've killed my dignity and made me suffer public humiliation just so you could perform a small experiment?"

"Yep."

I shrug. "Okay."

"Actually, the experiment has helped quite a bit, you see. Your Sorting time has decreased significantly. So, let's begin the hard task. See, the reason why this is going to be so hard is that you're witty, ambitious, kind, and, though it might not show to the naked eye, you have courage deep down inside, and you have lots of it. Now, let's start with process of elimination. You're ambitious, but definitely not a Slytherin. Oh, no, definitely not, you're not very cunning at all!"

"Yes!" I blurt out. There's a few more moments of silence.

"May I continue?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you. You're smart, and definitely witty - oh my, very witty. But you don't enjoy pondering and analyzing as Ravenclaws tend to do, and you're not very 'book-smart', as they say, so we should probably rule that out. So it's down to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. I'm going to give you a few trick questions, alright?"

"Um...okay..." I notice the Weasley cousins and my brother in one big pack, waving their arms and mouthing "Choose Gryffindor!"

"A malevolent troll approaches you and your friend in a remote area, and it is about to attack. You only have your wand, and your friend doesn't have his wand. What do you do?"

"First, you'll have to tell me what 'malevolent' means."

"Yeah, you'd never make it in Ravenclaw. Malevolent is an adjective that is defined as having, showing, or arising from intense and often vicious ill will, spite, or hatred ."

"I still don't get it..."

"IT MEANS BAD!"

"Okay, okay! Hm...I'd make sure my friend is out of danger first, and then I'd fight the troll myself."

"Interesting...very interesting...one of your relatives and twenty strangers are trapped. You can either rescue the relative and not the strangers or the twenty strangers and not the relative. Who do you rescue?"

"The relative, of course," I answer immediately. Honestly, I'm dying to know what Buddy is thinking.

"So, honestly, you're dying to know what I'm thinking? Yes, I am a Legilimens, you know. Well, if you must know, here's what I'm thinking: what do you think is more important: being brave in the face of danger or helping others?"

"What kind of question is that? Helping others!"

"Alright, then. I think you're one of the first Potters to whom I've ever said this, but...

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

As the Hufflepuff table cheers as loud as they can, part of me wants to curl up in a corner and die, but part of me wants to celebrate and rejoice. I feel like I've failed my family, but one thing's important: I'm still unique. I'm different from the rest of them, by representing a different house. Really, I think I've wanted to be a Hufflepuff all along. I've always looked up to Hufflepuffs and their fairness and kindness. Those traits are the most important traits of all. And now I get to represent them!

"Thank you for not calling me 'Buddy'."

"Sorry, what was that, Buddy?"

"Oh, shut up and go to your table!"

Flitwick removes Buddy from my head, and I proudly make my way to the table second from the right. The kids there look happy, warm, inviting, like one big family. As soon as I approach them, they scoot over to make room for me and pat the empty spot for me to sit. "Welcome to Hufflepuff, Albus!" a Prefect says. "We're so glad to have you here!"

I beam at the Prefect. "Thanks! I'm so happy to be a Hufflepuff!"

I chat with the other Hufflepuffs, and within a few minutes, I've gotten to know Amanda Finch-Fletchley, Bobby Macmillan, Alice Longbottom, Olivia Banks, Brenda McAfree, and Jackie Hassleberg, all First-Year Hufflepuffs. They seem very nice, but not the sugarcoated kind of nice - I'm talking about the real, down-to-earth kind of nice, the niceness that makes you feel all warm inside. I ignore the glares coming from the Gryffindor table. Hufflepuff is my family now, and I'm proud of it!

While talking to the Hufflepuffs, I watch Noah Pucey become a Slytherin, and then -

"Riddley, Catherine!"

"That's my friend," I tell Amanda and Bobby next to me as a beaming Cat walks onto the stage. "She's the American exchange student."

"Oh, yeah, I heard there's an exchange student this year," Brenda says.

I give Cat a thumbs-up, to which she grins while Flitwick places Buddy on her head.

This is literally Cat's entire Sorting:

"Hi, Buddy!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bye, Buddy!"

I cheer loudly for her as she walks off the stage. I'm a little disappointed that we aren't in the same house (and neither is Scorpius), but I know she'll be happy in Gryffindor, and that's what counts. One thing's for sure: Cat is the ultimate epitome of a Gryffindor. When she reaches her table, I wave to her, and she waves back at me before greeting her fellow Gryffs.

"She seems nice," Alice comments, watching her. "Is she?"

"Yeah, very nice," I say. "I'll introduce you to her sometime."

I almost say that she's the President's daughter, but I stop myself. Cat probably doesn't want everyone to know; after all, she did say that she doesn't want to be a celebrity.

I watch Laurel become a Ravenclaw. Laurel's awesome; since my parents are friends with her mom, Luna, and her dad, Rolf Scamander, she and her brothers have been to my house a lot. She high-fives Lorcan and Lysander as she plops down at her table and waves to me.

The sassy New York accent guy turns out to be Jessie Snowyowl, who is sorted into Slytherin right when Buddy's brim touches the top of his head. Jessie is a...well...big guy, with curly black hair and tan skin. He turns out to be quite the joker, as he does a funny little dance and tells a joke after getting sorted. Jessie's accent is what really makes the joke funny, though. Something about the way he delivers his comedy is downright hilarious.

A girl named Christina Sprout - the retired Professor Sprout's granddaughter - joins us at the Hufflepuff table. Just like the rest of them, she's warm and cheery, and fits right in.

As expected, both Lucy and Dominique become Gryffindors within seconds. "Those are my cousins, and so is the next one," I explain.

"Weasley, Rose!"

I give Rose a little wave as she walks onto the stage, amazingly calm and at ease. She performs in public so much with her acting and music that for her, there's no such thing as stage fright.

"Hey! Scorpius!" I turn around and hiss.

Scorpius looks up from conversing with other Ravenclaws. "Yeah?"

"Remember our bet? If she makes it into Ravenclaw, you owe me five galleons!"

Scorpius smirks. "Just you wait. Within five minutes, I'm going to be five galleons richer."

"Hello, Buddy!" Rose says when the hat is placed on her head.

"Ah, a Granger-Weasley! Yes, I see quite a bit of your parents in you!"

"Awesome..." she says uncertainly.

"Mm, you don't like that very much, do you? It's strange - just like Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter, and Catherine Riddley, you have a desire to be unique, set apart from the others. Therefore, you don't want to be sorted into Gryffindor. Am I right?"

"Yep. You've summed it up exactly," Rose replies. Gasps echo through the hall. Sure, a non-Gryffindor Potter is weird, a non-Slytherin Malfoy is weirder, but a non-Gryffindor Weasley is practically unheard of.

"Well, good. Because Gryffindor is not for you. You're courageous, yes, but you won't take risks when you don't have to, and Gryffindor won't get you anywhere. And you know what's fair, and you have great judgement, but you most certainly are not a Hufflepuff, either. You just aren't the type. Now...hm, I see you're a prodigy, eh? Eight instruments, great voice, talented actress, perfect pitch...quite impressive. Anyway, it's down to Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Do you have a preference?"

Scorpius and I exchange a glance. This is where the fate of our bet will be decided...

"No, not really..." Rose murmurs. "Which one will get me farther?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out! Goodness, you're impatient! So...you're witty, intelligent, clever, analytical, open-minded, but also cunning, ambitious, determined, logical, and you have wonderful, wonderful leadership capabilities. Yet with all those great characteristics, I see one gaping flaw..."

"...And? What is it?"

"It will benefit you more to figure that out for yourself. But...hm...you might come across as a Ravenclaw, but I think that you...wait...oh! Miss Weasley, would you like to be in Slytherin house? You'd do well in Ravenclaw, but if you choose to be a Slytherin, you are destined for brilliance and greatness. Your leadership can affect Slytherin wonderfully; in fact, you're exactly what Slytherin needs. But it's your choice."

"You...you're letting me choose?"

"Of course! Haven't you heard the story of the almost-Slytherin Harry Potter? So, your choice is...?"

Rose gazes at the floor, and then, for a split second, at Scorpius.

"Being a Legilimens, I know what your choice is, anyway. You've chosen very wisely, Miss Weasley.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Rose lights up as the Slytherin table cheers and the rest of the Great Hall gapes at her. If I'm not wrong, I think Rose is the first Weasley Slytherin.

"You have great qualities to bring to Slytherin house, Rose Weasley. Use them well."

As Flitwick removes Buddy from her head, I give her a double thumbs-up.

"Wow, a Slytherin Weasley? That's different," Jackie comments. "Not that it's bad, of course. From what the Sorting Hat - er, Buddy described, she seems great!"

"She's great at pranking, I'll tell you that," I reply. "I'll tell you about what she's done to me when dinner starts."

Rose...a Slytherin? Well, I did not see that one coming. I hadn't even considered her to be anything else except a Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. But now that I think about it, Rose possesses all the qualities of a Slytherin. Cunning, ambitious, determined...kind of bossy...very bossy...and I think she'll really be able to make an impact on Slytherin House. Their reputation isn't at its greatest right now, and with that much leadership and charisma, she can definitely change that for the better.

"Oi! Albus!" I turn around to face the Ravenclaw table, where Scorpius is grinning with satisfaction. He holds out his hand.

"That'll be five galleons, please."

I roll my eyes, reaching into my now yellow-lined cloak (apparently they shift into House colours as soon as the owner is Sorted) and grabbing five coins, begrudgingly handing them to the smirking Ravenclaw.

"Thanks!" he says cheerily.

Adam Winston joins the Hufflepuff table. He's very nice, and also funny and outgoing. Allison West and Matthew Wood become Gryffindors, and, finally, Melinda Zabini becomes a Slytherin.

"Students!" a voice booms after the final round of clapping. We turn to face Headmistress McGonagall. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, and First Years, it is an honor to have you here! I have a few words to say before the feast begins. As always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits for everyone. Mister Filch has requested that all Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products be banned from use and possession." She shoots pointed glances at the Weasleys in the room. They all grin and wag their fingers innocently. "That will be all. Enjoy the feast!"

The chatter resumes throughout the hall, and our plates fill up with roast beef, potatoes, Cauldron Cakes - appetizing food of all sorts. During dinner, I tell my new friends about all the pranks Rose and I play on each other, and then I tell them about the pink hand incident. They laugh constantly at my jokes, especially when I show them my pink hand.

At one point, a paper airplane lands in my glass. I lift out the dripping piece of paper and unfold it, reading it silently:

To Malfoy, Cat, and Albus:

So it sucks that we all got Sorted into four different houses, but that means that we have more ways to cause trouble, because we have access to all the common rooms. Maybe we should call the four of us the SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws!

- the one and only SlytherWeasley

P.S. But not in public, because it's kind of tacky. Enjoy the feast!

I grin is I dry off the paper and slip it into my pocket. Rose is absolutely right. The four of us will cause trouble, pull pranks, do all the fun things our parents did when they were in school and even more. I don't know what's ahead of us, but no matter what, we'll stick together, no matter how tacky that sounds. Other than that, there's only one thing I know for sure:

Hogwarts had better be warned - the SlytherHuffleGryffinClaws have arrived.

Do you want to discover the mischief Albus, Rose, Cat, and Scorpius will cause this year? If you like this story so far, go ahead and subscribe, and perhaps drop a review or favorite if you want to? Thanks!

Sincerely,

Pseudonymous Marina

List of First Years:

Gryffindors

Cat Riddley
Matthew Wood
Jason Jordan
Allie West
Jeff Finnigan
Michael Finnigan
Lucy Weasley
Dominique Weasley
Natalie Andrews

Hufflepuffs

Albus Potter
Amanda Finch-Fletchley
Bobby Macmillan
Adam Woodward
Alice Longbottom
Olivia Banks
Brenda McAfree
Christina Sprout
Jackie Hassleberg

Ravenclaws

Scorpius Malfoy
Marigold Banks
Peter Banks
Melissa Boot
Chris Corner
Mark Goldstein
Brandon "Bunny" Hare
Laurel Scamander
Izzy Blackwater
Aella Marshall

Slytherins

Rose Weasley
Selena Flint
Melinda Zabini
Meredith Murphy
Penelope Kaligaris
Phil Peach
Jessie Snowyowl
Noah Pucey
Hermes Kaligaris