A/N:The first couple of chapters here are going to be going into a little bit more depth about the day of the epilogue in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. If people seem to like the direction that I'm taking, I'll probably continue on beyond that day, and maybe get a story of respectable length up. It's all up to reviewers and my own personal motivation.

Chapter 1

The Muggle-Born

It seems that for Potter men, there's always one day in their lives that they can look back on and identify without a doubt as the turning point of their lives. For James, it was the day when Lily finally agreed to go out with him. For Harry, it was the day that Hagrid finally relayed the message that Harry was a wizard, changing his life forever. And for Albus, who preferred to be called Al, it was the day when he set off for Hogwarts and for the first time in his young life stepped out of his father's shadow.

Rose and Al had ended up in a train-compartment full of a bunch of first years. The whispering and pointing which had been going on since they got on the train at King's Cross didn't stop after they pulled away from the station.

Al thought it was a bit weird that he and his cousin were getting such attention just for being the children of members of the famous golden trio that had defeated Voldemort years ago. He had hoped that since the school had already gotten two years to gawk at his brother James, they'd be used to being around a son of Harry Potter by now, and it wouldn't be such a big deal. But everyone in this compartment seemed to be new to the school, and they would have grown up hearing about his father and his various deeds of daring. And, as he had been told several hundred more times than he could count, he looked exactly like his father, except for the lack of the scar. He had, in fact, always thought it was amusing that so many people commented on how much he looked like his father, like he couldn't make the association for himself, having seen his father, and himself, quite often.

Their odd insistence on stating the obvious physical similarities between himself and his famous father was just one of many experiences that made Albus believe that a good number of people were idiots. A new item on this list, as it turned out, was the excessive pointing and whispering going on in the compartment.

Albus could tell that the amount of attention was bothering Rose, whose parents had managed to keep her out of the spotlight more than Harry had been able to do for him. It wasn't that Rose was showing any obvious signs of being nervous, but Albus and her had always been close enough that he was able to tell even if others wouldn't have been able to.

He tried to make her feel better by striking up a conversation with her as if the rest of the people in the compartment weren't there. After all, the people whispering about them were acting like Rose and Al weren't there. Turnabout, Al reckoned, was fair play.

"Think you'll try out for the Quidditch team, then?" asked Al. In the face of trying to calm his cousin down, he had forgotten all about his own nervousness regarding the possibility of being sorted into Slytherin. Besides, his father had mostly convinced him that he wouldn't get put into the house against his will. And he would certainly never want to be put into Slytherin.

"Without a broom?" asked Rose skeptically.

"Well, my father was able to get a broom in his first year," pointed out Al.

"Your father was able to do a lot of things that no one else could," pointed out Rose.

"True, I guess," said Al.

"Besides, James only got on the team last year, in his second year," continued Rose.

At that, Al shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat. "What, are you saying I can't do something at a younger age than my brother?" he asked, trying to sound offhand about it, although a slight amount of anger crept into his voice. He would have been surprised to know how much he sounded like his mother at that moment, but while everyone in the compartment was able to pick up on the physical similarities between himself and his father, no one picked up on the personality-similarities between himself and his mother.

"I didn't mean that," said Rose, backing down hastily.

Al was a bit embarrassed about letting his insecurity show in his voice, and for a moment refused to meet his cousin's eye. In doing so, he chanced to glance to the seat on his other side, which had been occupied by a small girl with curly black hair who, Al noticed, was not participating in the whispering-party which everyone else in the compartment had apparently been invited to.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, when he caught his eye for a second (Al registered the odd politeness of this girl who had, in fact, not actually been interrupting at all), "but I was wondering, could you tell me what Quidditch is?"

Forgetting his embarrassment in light of this new development, Al exchanged a quick glance with Rose.

"You're muggle-born, aren't you?" asked Al, in a voice which probably sounded oddly relieved to this unidentified young witch.

"Er... That means my parents couldn't do magic, right?" she asked, tentatively.

"Yeah," said Rose, who had gotten out of her seat and was now standing in front of the new girl's seat. "And I'm sorry my cousin's being so rude... Asking you questions about your parents before even bothering to learn your name." She paused, and offered her hand for the girl to shake. "My name's Rose Weasley," she said with a warm smile.

Rose had often been told that her smile was contagious, and a smile quickly graced the face of their new acquaintace as she reached out to shake Rose's hand. "I'm Chloe Baron."

Al, embarrassed for a second time in two minutes by Rose calling him out on his lack of manners, blushed slightly as he said, "And I'm Al Potter."

By the look of mild shock that came across Chloe's face at the mention of the name, Albus could tell that she had at least read something about the history of magic before coming to Hogwarts. She looked about ready to open her mouth when Al preempted her. He knew that the next question she would ask would be whether he was related to Harry Potter, and while he supposed he wouldn't mind telling her that he was, he didn't want to do so in front of his whispering and pointing compartment-sharers. "Why don't we go for a walk?" he suggested quickly, and perhaps more loudly than necessary.

Rose nodded understandingly, and although Chloe looked a bit startled, she agreed.

Once they were out in the corridor, they ran into the woman pushing the food-cart. This woman, as it turned out, was the same woman who had always been responsible for the food-cart when Harry and his friends had ridden the train. She had noticed that Harry had often preferred empty compartments, and determined that it was at least marginally likely that this new Potter roving the corridors might be looking to continue the family traditon.

It was for this reason that, after the the children had bought a number of sweets and snacks, she mentioned, "There's an empty compartment three doors down. In case you're curious," she added, with a wink.

"Er, yeah, I was," confessed a confused Al. But nonetheless, he led the way to the compartment, sneaking one last curious glance at the seemingly omniscient trolley-pusher as he opened the door for the girls and walked in behind them.

For a moment, Al dared to hope that the wonderful array of sweets that Chloe never would have seen before might have distracted her from his last name. Unfortunately, after she opened her first chocolate frog, noting with interest the card inside, she said, "So, I think I've worked out why all those gits back in the other compartment were whispering."

Rose and Albus both laughed. Albus especially appreciated the girl's quick labeling of the whispering masses as 'gits'. "Clever one, then, aren't you?" asked Al.

"I like to think so," said Chloe with a playfully smug expression on her face. "That must be really annoying for you, though, that they wouldn't talk to you about it straight out," she said, sympathetically.

"I'm not sure I'd prefer it if they did," said Al, honestly. "I don't know why people can't just forget about it for a bit." He supposed, actually, that he did have a pretty good idea of why people couldn't help themselves from thinking of his father whenever they looked at him, but that was rather beside the point.

"Oh. Well, then, I won't talk about it," Chloe said cheerfully. "Anyway, I've got loads more questions. For starters, you never did answer me about Quidditch."

So the rest of their first trip to Hogwarts' Castle was passed happily between the three first-years. Albus and Rose were each quite glad to find someone who could think of them as individuals rather than as the children of their famous parents, and Chloe was relieved at Al's and Rose's promises that she'd fit in quite well at the school even in spite of her ancestry.

"James told me that at least a quarter of students are muggle-born nowadays," said Al reassuringly. "I know it seemed like everyone in our first compartment had magical parents, but that was only about 15 kids. There'll be at least fifty in our year."

"Sorted into the four houses, right?" asked Chloe, as if she were reviewing material for a test. "Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Sytherin?"

"Right," congratulated Rose. They had told the names of the houses to her when they were discussing Quidditch, to explain the house cup.

"Which house do you think I'll be in?" asked Chloe.

"Well, certainly not Slytherin. That's a house pretty much for pure-bloods only," said Rose.

Chloe frowned. "But I thought you said it wouldn't matter that I'm muggle-born?"

"You wouldn't want to be in Slytherin anyway," pointed out Al. "They're mostly evil nutters." Then he recalled what his father had just reminded him about his middle name earlier that day. "Although I suppose not all of them."

Chloe looked confused. "Don't be nervous, though," advised Rose. "The other houses are loads better anyway. Maybe we'll all get sorted into Gryffindor."

"That'd be brilliant," agreed Albus.

Hours later, after Hagrid had ferried the first years across the lake, as he had done each year for decades, Albus, Chloe, and Rose, filed into the room beside the great hall with the rest of the first years.

Professor Flitwick soon came in to give the first years instructions on what to do next since he was the Deputy headmaster, having served more years at Hogwarts than any of the staff aside from McGonagall, who was now headmistress.

"Get into alphabetical order," advised Flitwick, with the characteristic squeak creeping into his voice. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take you out to be sorted."

He left the room, and there was a fair amount of chatter as the students tried to figure out what everyone else's last name was and where they belonged, and as they said good-bye to newly made friends who had come from different alphabetial-backgrounds from themselves.

"Okay, just remember, think 'Gryffindor,'" encouraged Rose as Chloe made her way toward the front of the line and Rose and Al made their way toward the back.

Shortly thereafter, Professor Flitwick came back and led the new students into the Great Hall. He then brought the Sorting Hat out and sat it on the stool.

As usual, it began to sing.

"I am the Sorting Hat and have had my job for years

But I come for more than just to earn your cheers

It is in instead my proud and rather sacred mission

to help each house continue it's own proud tradition

Each founder gave me their own orders

for who to let into their house's borders

Slytherin into his noble house of silver and green

Took those whose blood he thought most clean

Into the house of Ravenclaw's bronze and blue

Come those most anxious to learn something new

In the students of Hufflepuff house with its yellow and black

Hard work and persistence are never at a lack

And into Gryffindor's House of red and gold

march those who are the most brave and bold."

There were cheers from the older students as the first years shifted nervously from foot to foot, waiting to discover their fates.

First to be sorted was Denise Abbot (niece of Hannah). She went to Hufflepuff. Brian Anderson went to Ravenclaw, and then Chloe Baron, third in line, approached the stool and put on the hat.

Albus hardly had time to cross his fingers and hope that Chloe would be the first of the three of them to get sorted into Gryffindor when the hat declared, "Slytherin!"

Al turned around in the line and his eyes met Rose's. Both pairs of eyes were wide with shock. Neither had heard of a full-fledged muggle-born being sorted into Slytherin. Half-blood Slytherins were rare enough. But muggle-born Slytherins were, as far as the two of them knew, unheard of.

Both Al and Rose then both turned to look toward Chloe, who was heading toward the applauding Slytherin table. She glanced over her shoulder at each of them in turn, looking somewhat regretful. Apparently too nervous to sit too close to any of the older Slytherins, Chloe sat in a spot where there was one empty seat on each side.

Part of Al felt sorry for Chloe, who'd just been sorted into a house where she would no doubt be ostracized once her housemates found out her family background. But there was another part of Al, a part he had inherited from his father, that was already working furiously to solve this new mystery. How could a muggle-born get sorted into Slytherin? She hadn't been lying to Rose and him, had she? But Al didn't think that she had. There was something about her that made Al trust her.

But if Chloe hadn't lied to him, had someone perhaps lied to Chloe? Was she adopted, perhaps abandoned by a pair of wizarding parents?

These puzzles filled Al's mind until the line in front of him disappeared one person at a time, and finally he heard Flitwick squeak, "Albus Potter."

He put the hat on his head.

He thought, "Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor."

But the hat made no similar proclamation. Instead, he heard the sorting hat in his head, "Well, you're a bit tough to place, then, aren't you? Not at all like your brother. He was Gryffindor through and through."

"I couldn't be a Gryffindor?" wondered Al nervously.

"Well, you could be," admitted the sorting hat. "And you'd be a decent Gryffindor. But you'd be an excellent Slytherin."

At this moment, several different thought-processes streaked through Albus's mind. His father's statement that Severus Snape, a Slytherin, had been one of the bravest men he ever knew. The fact that everyone thought of him as just a reflection of his father and his brother, both of whom had been Gryffindors. The regretful look from Chloe, who was still sitting with an empty seat on each side of her and knew no one in her house. Yes, he still thought it'd be nice to be in the same house as Chloe, and after all, that would be best way to figure out why she had been sorted into Slytherin in the first place. Besides... would he rather be decent as a Gryffindor, or excellent as a Slytherin?

"All right, then, Slytherin it is," thought Albus hesitantly.

The voice of the sorting hat, however, was not hesitant at all as the single word, "Slytherin!" rang across the Great Hall.

A/N: All right, so... What'd you think? I'll probably write the next couple chapters whether I get any reviews or not, but reviews will definitely help me update quicker. Oh, also... source for the colors of each house was the HP-lexicon (www dot hp-lexicon dot org)... I don't remember whether they were ever given in the books.