"Do you think I'll make the Gryffindor Quidditch team first year, too?" James stares up at Teddy, his eyes sparkling from the thought.

The green-haired boy rolls his eyes for the tenth time since they left the house. "Don't count on it, squirt." He ruffles the eleven-year-old's dark red hair. "Besides," he begins, knowing how upset he's about to make the boy, "you don't even know if you'll be put in Gryffindor."

"Don't be stupid, Teddy," he declares, ignoring the Hogwarts graduate's words with an eye roll of his own. "Both my parents were Gryffindors, all my uncles were Gryffindors, and the my aunts that went to Hogwarts were Gryffindors."

"Molly's not—"

"Molly's a git."

"James Sirius Potter!" Ginny scolds from three steps behind the pair. "We do not talk like that—especially about family."

The boy rolls his eyes again before correcting himself. "Only one of Molly's parents was in Gryffindor. So I'm twice as good—" he glances toward his mother, who shoots him another warning glance. "Twice as likely," he corrects again, "to be in it." The boy walks forward, head held high. He suddenly feels his feet slip in a puddle of water, and fall out from under him, landing on his behind.

Teddy's hair changes to bright blue as he attempts to hold his laughter in, and turns to James's brother, holding his father's hand. It's Ginny to shout the warning, again, though. "Al…"

The little boy turns red and his ears rise, but he does not move. "It wasn't me!" Lily lets out a few accidental giggles before freezing and halting her sound.

"Lily?" Harry questions as the three adults turn to look at the girl holding his other hand. The girl turns a brighter, Weasley red, and steps behind Harry's waist, hiding from the others. "Did you do that?" The little girl nods into his side, peaking from around her father's body. James finally stands, rubbing his backside. "And you were going to let Albus take the blame?" Again, she nods into his side, and he has to force himself to avoid laughter. She always has been daddy's little girl.

"How did Lillers get so cool?"

"Hey!" James shouts.

"Ted!" Harry scolds, at the same time. Teddy laughs and shakes his head before taking off toward the express. "Where're you going?"

"Oh," he pauses, turning back to the Potters with a smirk, "I just want to see some of my old friends off." He turns back around and walks toward the train, as if he knew exactly where to find his old friends.

"Mum!" James complains, still rubbing his behind as he lifts his things off the ground. "Aren't you going to punish—"

"Harry Potter?" The family turns to see a blonde little girl standing feet away, gaping at the patriarch of the group. "Daddy, look! It's Harry Potter!" Heads turn their way from all around the platform and the noise transforms to near silence in a matter of seconds. This little shouter's father takes the girl's hand and silently joins the rest of the platform's gaze.

"Go on, son," Harry urges, pretending not to notice anything around him, "make us proud."

The little boy steps away from his family silently. The stares move his way as whispers of "son?", "a Potter at Hogwarts?", and "what does it mean?" echo around him. He glances back to his father, who stays watching him proudly, unlike all the other eyes, almost attempting to dissect him.

He stumbles up the high steps and into the nearly empty train. After finding an empty compartment, he sits, staring out the window, where all eyes are still plastered on his family. Now he knows why his dad always complained about going out in public places. How embarrassing!

After about two minutes, the compartment door burst open and two redheaded boys and a brunette boy crowd in. "Hiya, James!" Louis shouts once his cousin looks up at him.

"We figured you were here," Fred explains, "when everyone was silent around the place. It had to mean Uncle Harry was already here." He sits next to his younger cousin. For the first time, the year difference between James and the older two seems like centuries. They know their way around Hogwarts. They expected this reaction to his dad. And he had been so sure he knew everything he needed to know.

Louis and the other boy sit on the opposite side of the compartment. "This is Gabriel. He's a—"

"Hey, you four." Victoire pops into the compartment, smiling. The light from the window reflects off of her prefect badge, causing the group to shield their eyes. "Hey, James. Good to see you. If these three," she gestures toward the second years with him, "give you any trouble, just let me know." She grabs her brother roughly and ruffles his hair. "Especially this one."

Louis pulls away violently, "we would never do any such thing," he smirks.

"Yeah," Fred agrees, nodding, "even if he's put in Slytherin. We'll be the perfect cousins."

"You don't have to worry about that," James concludes, head held high. The group looks over at him, skeptically. "I'm sure to be a Gryffindor."

"How do you—"

"Both of my parents were, and all of my uncles were. I'm just as likely as any of you were—more than you two," he points toward Victoire and Louis, who just gape at him.

After a few moments, Victoire rolls her eyes. "Well, good luck with that." She turns and struts off, leaving it unclear if she had been wishing luck to James or to the others.

James casually looks out his window again as the older boys fall into gossip about how different everybody looks. It does not take long for the little boy to find his father again. People are still constantly stealing glances at him, but it is less intense than when they first noticed his presence. Teddy has joined the family again, and waves happily once he catches the first year's gaze. James waves back enthusiastically as the train takes off towards its destination.

* * * * *

"First years, this way." The students stare up at the large creature in fear, but James just smiles. Their eyes finally lock and the half-giant gives him a genuine smile. "Hi, there, James."

The little boy smiles up at the large man he has known his whole life. "Hi, Hagrid." A few nearby first years look over, dumbfounded. Clearly, they had never been in contact with any half-giants. James can't help but laugh at the thought of these kids coming in contact with Grawp, who tags along with Hagrid to dinner at the Potters' house on special occasions.

The first years all follow Hagrid towards the water, where the boats are waiting for them. Most make sure to stay far behind him, as if they expect him to turn around and attack. One boy makes his way to the front of the group, to where James strolls silently. "Is it true," he whispers, just loud enough for James and the few other students nearby to hear him, "that you're Harry Potter's son?"

James rolls his eyes. "Yeah. I am." He should have expected this. He always seems to forget that his family is any different from anyone else's. His father does not like to talk about it, so none of their friends or family members mention it when he is around. He's only read about the stories in his new schoolbooks, and overheard a couple conversations between his parents. He figures most of the other kids at Hogwarts know more about his family than he does. But from what he's heard, that was the case with his father, too. And he seems to have turned out just fine.

Every kid within earshot moves closer, struggling to hear everything they can. "Did he really kill Lord Voldemort with an expelliarmus?" It's funny, how the older a book is, the less likely it is to have Voldemort's chosen name in it. Recent editions don't use anything but his name, to show that there is no longer any reason to be afraid of him. He's gone and means nothing. There is no reason not to use his name.

James shrugs his shoulders, just wanting to get away. Don't they get that he doesn't know any more than they do. No, of course they don't. They wouldn't understand. "I guess so. I wasn't exactly there."

"My mum was!" a blonde girl says from a few paces to the left. "She says that he came back from the dead to block a curse Voldemort threw, then killed him with the disarming spell." She smiles, proud to be contributing to the historical recounting, "I didn't even know you could kill someone with that spell."

"You can't." A boy a couple feet further away adds. Their voices must be getting louder, because even more people are now listening intently to the conversation. "But the wand Voldemort was using backfired on him, because it was supposed to be Harry's wand." He then turns to James with a serious look. "Does he still have the wand?"

The boy is taken aback. "Erm—I'm not sure." Which wand? They can't be talking about the old wand his dad always uses. He said he got that when he turned eleven and it even broke once. Whatever wand they're talking about doesn't sound like the one he is so loyal to.

"How could you not know?"

"Alright, group." They finally reached the water's edge. "Everyone get into a boat. No more than four in one." He looks down at a frightened James as everyone else runs off in different directions. "You can come in mine." The boy lets out a relieved sigh as he hops in behind Hagrid.

Half of the ride goes silently, until James finally decides he needs to know more. "Hagrid?" The half-giant looks over at the small boy. "Why doesn't Dad talk about what happened there?" He gestures toward the school.

"'Arry talks about 'Ogwarts all the time. Quidditch, Ron and 'Ermione, Ginny, Dumbledore, his classes, Proff—"

"I mean the battle."

His large face falls. "Oh. Well, yer dad doesn't like to remember that part. 'e doesn't want ter relive it."

"But he was a hero, wasn't he?"

"To us. But to 'Arry, 'e cost a lot more people ther lives than 'e needed to." His slight discomfort is obvious, but James can't seem to force himself to let him stop. He has been wanting to know this story for eleven years. "'e thinks 'e could 'ave saved more people—Sirius, Teddy's parents, 'Ogwarts students. Regrets not being faster."

James sits back in his seat, knowing that is all the information he will be squeezing out of Hagrid right now. Perhaps over time, he will learn the whole story. But one thing's for sure. He will have to put the pieces together on his own.

* * * * *

James can't help but chuckle at all the nervous kids around him. They're all scared to death of an old singing hat. Sure it's a hat that, with one word, will decide the next seven years of their lives, and in turn shaping who they will be even after completely those seven years. But seriously, it's a singing hat!

Sure, it helps that James already knows he will be placed in Gryffindor. He scans the room to find the three different shades of red hair clumped together at the Gryffindor table. His cousins are all watching the sorting ceremony, Victoire taking notes as each students joins the table.

James glances over at the only redhead at the Ravenclaw table, just as he hears "James Potter!" For the first time, a slight feeling of doubt races into his body as he approaches the hat. What if everybody's right? Molly's a Weasley. She was put in Hufflepuff. What if it happens to him, too? No! He has to be in Gryffindor. His blood tells him so.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" echoes through the room and all eyes transfer to the Gryffindor table, where Victoire slaps Fred in the back of the head. Fred bursts into a fit of laughter before everyone turns back up to where the hat has just landed on his cousin's head.

"At last, a Potter." The voice must be coming from the hat. The raspy whisper is everything his parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins have described. It echoes over and over in his head, almost hypnotically. "Plenty of bravery, of course. Confidence and insecurity of a Weasley. A need to live up to expectations. Better go with GRYFFINDOR!" The last word is said out loud to the room, as he had heard will all of the other students.

Loud cheers come from the Gryffindor table the James stands and makes his way to his cousins. Sitting across from the strawberry-blonde girl, he smiles triumphantly. "Told ya' so." His fellow redheads roll their eyes as they take turns patting him on the shoulder.