AN: It is March 31st 2012, about two years after this story was originally published, and now it's being re-edited. There are changes that I'm adding to it, so for those who have read and are barely reading, I hope you enjoy what I'm shifting.

Thank you.

Leave Out All the Rest

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the Journey

POV: Al

As soon as the odd sensation of not colliding with bricks washed over me, as soon as I felt the pure oxygen and the sound of people, I heard myself shout, "stop it!" Earning a few odd glances from a few passing pedestrians; others looking disapproving of my sudden outburst. (Great.)

I shrank back a little, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

And laughing manically, not caring about those judging stares, a boy pushed his trolley with ease and a giant mocking gaze as he approached me. "Oh, come on now. It's not ssssooo bad," my older brother mocked; making sure to add more to his torture by hissing like a snake.

I glared at him, holding on to my own trolley. He just had to ruin everything with his damn jokes. I mean, we had just crossed the barrier of Platform 9 ¾ and onto the place where all students—old and new—gathered in front of a majestic train. A train ready to take us to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. (So, of course, that thrilling sensation had to be killed by him.)

So unlike everyone else, my face wasn't showing excitement of a new year at Hogwarts; nor was I feeling the nervousness to be attending for the very first time ever. No. Instead I had a look of rage pulling at every inch of my face and the dire need to control a panic that was rising in my blood.

And before I could come up with something to retort back at my brother, an angry-faced redheaded woman charged her way out of the barrier. And behind her came her husband and small daughter; both whom looked terrified as they tried lingering as far back as possible.

My brother gulped, positioning his trolley carefully in front of him for protection. "Mum."

"How many times," Ginny Potter's eyes narrowed, "do I have to tell you to leave your brother alone, James Potter?"

James blinked down at the concrete floor, remaining silent.

"Can't you just be considerate for one day?" Our mother continued. "It's his first year, James. The least you could do for your little brother is support him. This is important to him, for Merlin's sake."

Knowing better—which still didn't mean as much to him—James scoffed. His stupid action causing another glint of darkness to cross our mother's eyes. (Merlin, like he didn't know how easily ticked off she was.) "I wasn't even saying anything," he added in a grumble. "But fine. Whatever. I'll support little Albus." He looked up, rolling his eyes at me. "…He won't have any friends, anyway."

And at the very big mistake, the two people behind my mother took three instinctive steps back. (Hell, even I did.)

"Harry?" Mum called out to dad. "Is anyone watching?"

Despite himself, dad actually made a sneaky attempt to look around our little section. And with people walking left and right, jumping out of the barrier, and some of dad's fellow admirers, it was hard not to tell who wasn't looking. "…Um, no. No one's looking."

And for a quick second of comradeship, James and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. (Dad just liked a show from time to time.)

"Good." Mum gave a small nod. "I don't want anyone witnessing the first time I smack my child."

Instantly, at the threat in the redhead woman's voice, James took three steps backwards. "How about I go find a compartment?" He grinned at our mother.

Dad rolled his emerald eyes behind his signature circled glasses. "James," he called my brother, "you should really stop picking on your brother for your own good. Your mother's going to end up murdering you one of these days."

"Yeah!" Exclaiming excitedly by my father's side, my little sister Lily glared at our older brother. "You leave Al alone!"

I gave a dim smile. She was always my defender—which was pretty bad. Somehow, having a nine year-old defend you from other people's constant ridicule always gave James the case of the giggles.

And as mum, dad and Lily were staring him down, James huffed to himself. "Fine." He twisted his trolley on its back wheels. "I can see all of you are against me now so I'll take my leave. And before the rest of the demented lot can come and start shouting at me because little Al's such a girl, I best go find my friends."

I glared again.

James sent me a smug scoff, like my anger did not phase him. And after he did so, he turned back to our parents. "Goodbye, Ginevra," he said in a hostile tone at our mother. "Harry. Lillian." He nodded at the other two.

Dad shook his head, sighing in what sounded like resignation.(Because, honestly, with a son like James there's nothing else to do but resign.) "We'll see you for the winter holidays, alright, James. But in the meantime please," he pulled James into a hug, "stay out of trouble 'til then."

Trying to wiggle himself out of it, James said, "alright, alright." Dad let him go, smiling at him. "I'll try, Dad. But no promises. I'm a very important person, you know? My services and skills are required. I just can't let the lot of people down."

And at the sly grin on my brother's face, mum rolled her eyes as she took her turn to grasp James and reel him into a hug. "I don't even want to know," she said mostly to herself, the same tone of resignation in her voice that was in dad's.

"Mum, stop—"

Ginny hugged her son tighter, silencing his plea to be released. "Have a nice term, sweetheart. And please, even if it's excruciating, stay out of trouble. I do not need angry letters from teachers this early in the year."

"I can't help it, Mum," James said through clenched teeth, struggling his way out of our mother's arms. "It's genetic. I blame my ancestors."

And ironically it was so true. James could honestly say that all of his encounters with the authority figures in school are caused to whatever it is that our family has pulled on that ancient castle in their time. (James was just, you can say, following orders.)

Before James could make his way away from us, Lily launched her tiny self at him. "Bye, bye, Jamie." Her voice was almost sad.

Smiling a-not-so secret smile of warmth, James picked her up in a giant hug. (It was more of a-not-so secret that he loved and adored Lily. Just like I did—which is where most of our neutrality came from on most days.) He never had much of a problem on showing any kind of affection to her. Lily was literally the only one who got permission to hug him in public. The rest of us were just an embarrassment to James. (Which is why mum always said we were lucky we got a wave goodbye from him.)

"You promise you'll write again this year, James?" Lily blinked her brown eyes up at James.

He smiled at her, settling her back on her feet. "I promise, Lils." And as soon as the little redhead girl was satisfied with that answer, James' warm smile changed into a smirk. "See you in a bit, Al."

I looked at him suspiciously. "Yeah, right," I scoffed.

James' smirk grew. And with the quickest slyness he could muster, he aimed a look at mum, then at dad, then back at me. "—Slither like a Slytherin snake!" He shouted and then bolted toward the entrance of the train with his trolley squeaking in front of him.

"James!" Mum yelled after him, face back with her fury.

Dad sighed, looking away from eavesdropping ears and lingering eyes of the other people admiring him from a distance. "Ignore him, Albus."

I felt myself sulk in misery instantly. "…I've tried to all my life, Dad. It's never helped."

Dad put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

But before he could give me—what I was sure was about a second away of coming towards my direction—a comforting speech, dad and I snapped our heads instantly when we saw a flare of red hair and a loud voice that was hard not to hear.

"Ginny—"And fresh out of the barrier, a redheaded man, a brunette woman, and two redheaded children walked towards us.

"Ron," my mum sighed with irritation as she replied to the voice that had called her from the distance..

Uncle Ron crossed his arms, looking disapproving. "I could hear you yelling from the other side of the barrier. Are you mental? You'll give all of us away if the muggles start hearing voices coming out the wall."

"James was making fun of Albus again," Dad was quick to explain before Mum could snap at her redheaded brother. "Same thing since Al got his letter in the summer."

"The sorting thing, right?" Uncle Ron tapped a finger on his mouth, looking calculating. "Well, the kid's got a point, Harry. I mean, can you imagine? The shame and horror upon our family if he does get sorted into Slytherin."

Smack.

"Ronald," Aunt Hermione hissed, adding another smack to her husband's head. "That's a terrible thing to say to the boy, for goodness sake!"

And with another smack to him as Uncle Ron shrugged at his wife, my cousins and sister laughed at his expense.

"Oi, alright!" Uncle Ron dodged another hit. "Alright. Alright. It was a joke, 'Mione. Bloody hell."

Pulling me away from more of my gloominess, Rose flashed a toothy smile at me. "Aren't you excited, Al?" Her eyes were lit up with excitement. ( And the nerd was actually excited. She had all her books packed and ready to go since her letter came in. She was so eager to attend, she even tried writing a letter to the Headmistress to allow her to come in a year earlier. With her brains, she might have ended up attending sooner if Uncle Ron hadn't put his foot down.)

I shrugged, not finding it in me to meet her enthusiasm. "Not really. James psyched the fun right out of it."

Rose rolled her eyes at me. "You're not still worried about the whole Slytherin thing again, are you?"

"How can I not be?"

"Albus, it's alright if you get sorted into that house." Catching my hysterical retort, Dad squeezed my shoulder again. "There is nothing wrong with Slytherin."

Uncle Ron scoffed. "….Yeah, if you like evil, want to take over the world, like serpents, want to disappoint all your family, break tradition—"He stopped with a pause, all of us looking up at him. "I mean…don't worry about it! We're all supporting you!"

Mum frowned protectively. "I will bash your head against the barrier, Ron."

Getting a nod of approval by Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron gaped in outraged. "Hermione!"

Shaking his head to himself, Dad released his hold on me and turned to his brother-in-law. "Let's load their trunks onto the train before they end up murdering you between each other, mate."

And as dad and Uncle Ron took mine and Rose's trolleys, I looked up at my mother half-heartedly. "…So, erm…It'll be fine, then? Wherever I get sorted into?"

Mum nodded, smiling sweetly and calmly at me. "Slytherin, alike the other houses, Al, is just a house. It doesn't mean anything. Nor does it define who you're going to be in the future."

And for the first time since the going to Hogwarts had approached in the previous weeks, I actually smiled in anticipation.