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Chapter Text

"What about the mandrakes?"

Everyone at the table fell silent. Uncle Ron, who had been telling one of The Great Hogwarts Stories dropped his hands that had been vividly gesturing to the table and gaped at Albus as if he had just noticed that he was there. This was entirely possible too since Sunday dinners with the Granger-Weasleys usually didn't feature a speaking Albus. They followed a very clear ritualized agenda, even though none of the adults would ever have admitted that. There was the greeting full of hugs and kisses, no matter if you wanted to be hugged and kissed or not; Hermione's apologies for being late although her family always arrived perfectly on time; the "shall we move to the dining hall (a room that was kept as spotless and white as their faces)?" by Ginny Potter, Albus' mum, which wasn't a question but a command in disguise; the never-changing seating order at the grand table which was laden with foods that made Albus nauseous just looking at them and then "the conversation". The conversation consisted without exception of their parents recounting stories of their glorious adventures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

This evening had been no different. Uncle Ron had just been in the middle of a dramatic recount of Hermione coming back to life after she'd been petrified by a Basilisk during their second year at Hogwarts when little Albus spoke up.
Ron looked baffled. He was used to exclamations of surprise or terror from Albus' brother James and his cousin Rose, a giggle here, roaring laughter there - an excited demand for more details from big-eyed little Lily. But Albus usually sat quietly through dinner shoveling his special dish of greens into his mouth and listening without much show of emotion. As soon as he'd finished his food he'd whisper into his mother's ear "Can I go to my room now?" and she'd let him - always with the same apologetic look that might have been to him for having made him sit through another family dinner or it might have been to the gathered families, an excuse for the unsociable strangeness of her child.

Because Albus was strange, Ginny thought. He was a dreamy, head-in-the-clouds kind of kid, rarely spoke and when he did it was usually in a whisper and to a few select people. Ginny often wondered if Albus generally disliked the company of humans since he spent most of his time looking at or whispering to the plants and creatures in the garden and in the woods around. When more than a small handful of people gathered all he seemed to want to do was hide or flee.
Albus was also quite sensitive to a lot of things that her other children weren't: He was a very picky eater. Small noises made him jump and some clattering and chattering made him cover his ears and wail in pain. He was shortsighted like his father and wore thick square glasses through which his big brown eyes were made even bigger and you could see how they washed over with emotion. Because contrary to what many people thought upon first meeting shy and reclusive Albus he was extremely empathetic. Other people's emotions seemed to be mirrored in his in an instant. Sometimes even before the other people knew what they were feeling. One time, on a particularly stressful day of work and chores and children Ginny had found little Albus hidden under the sofa, crying. When she asked him what was the matter he had answered: "I'm sorry you're sad about grandma." And only then had Ginny realized that she had indeed been keeping herself busy and bustling around all day because she had not wanted to give way to the deep anxious worry about her mother Molly who had fallen ill for the third time that year.

Ginny's husband Harry often accused her of spoiling Albus by giving in to all his particularities; letting him play outside until dark instead of making him do some more lessons from Wizzbos Wizarding Workbook for Toddlers, cooking extra dishes for him without any of the things he couldn't or wouldn't eat and comforting him in his "fits" as Harry called them. And letting him leave dinner early of course. Harry couldn't see what was so bad about spending some times with the whole family and delicious food and often took it as a personal offense that Albus didn't seem as interested in their tales as the other children did.

But today was different. For the first time since anyone could remember Albus had spoken up at the big family dinner. And not even in his characteristic whisper. Instead the words seemed to have pushed out of his mouth, urgent and impatient to be spoken.
"What about the mandrakes?", Albus repeated, his voice shivering a little this time but his expression still stern, too stern for an eleven-year-old listening to an elaborately embellished adventure story that he had heard at least a dozen times before.
"What about the...?", Ron trailed off, having lost the thread by the interruption. Uncle Ron was a bright hearty man and he loved telling a story, especially to a willing audience. The children loved him because he could be silly and always encouraged them to break the rules their parents had set for them with a wink behind their back.
"What about them, Albus?", Aunt Hermione asked with an encouraging smile, "do you want to know how the potion works that is brewed from them?" and she seemed more than ready to give him a extensive lecture on the production, effects and perils of the Mandrake Restorative Draught. Hermione was extremely intelligent and usually very busy with being the head of the Ministry of Magic. But she did always make time for Sunday dinner with the Potters and her brilliance and impeccable memory were often needed to bring uncle Ron's storytelling back to reality and believability here and there.
"No.", said Albus to Hermione's visible disappointment, "I mean... what about their lives? You said they had feelings."
Hermione looked genuinely surprised. "Who said they had feelings?", she asked. The thought of it simply had never occured to her.
Albus' voice had gotten gradually quieter as if he too was slowly realizing how out of character it was for him to be asking bold questions loudly like that.
"Uncle Ron said...", he mumbled, "...they had parties and mood swings".

That was true. Ron usually chose some elements of the old stories to inflate and decorate a little more, while leaving others out or brushing over them. This way, he thought, the adventures stayed interesting, something new in them every time. And this time he had spent a good deal of the story of their second year at Hogwarts reenacting the different life stages of the Mandrake - even though he hadn't technically been there to witness them - but he had heard of the plant's development through the herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, so it was basically a truthful recount even if he hadn't always paid attention in herbology.

"Well... yes", he said now, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly, "I guess I did mention that, but throwing parties isn't exactly the same as having feelings. I mean-", he seemed a bit lost for words, "they were grown for this purpose you know, there was never..." Uncle Ron trailed off again looking around helplessly.
Hermione chimed in: "Even if they had feelings, what should we have done? There is only one potion to unpetrify the petrified and Mandrakes are an essential ingredient in it."
The content expression of logical victory in Hermione's face faltered when she met Albus' big concerned-looking eyes. "And they didn't really have feelings", she added hastily, "not like us humans do. They don't have the same self-consciousness and intelligence. It's just funny that they seem to - er imitate some parts of human life so accurately." She smiled a smile that was supposed to be reassuring but she didn't seem to be entirely sure of herself - which was rare with aunt Hermione.
Albus stared blankly ahead. Then he whispered: "They do have feelings though." and slowly, but matter-of-factly he got up from his chair and walked out of the dining hall, into the kitchen and with a soft click you could hear the back door fall shut behind him.

The tension left behind was palpable. Everyone stared down at their plates uncomfortably and started moving their cutlery around on them in an awkward and inefficient dance. James Potter, Albus' older brother was the quickest to recover.
"What happened after Aunt Hermione got revived?", he asked, maybe a little too enthusiastically for a thirteen-year-old who had heard the story even more often than his younger siblings.
"Unpetrified", Hermione corrected him, "I was never dead, James". But she seemed rather relieved and only playfully indignant. At this Ron took over again and with the occasional corrections from Hermione and Harry continued his tale right to it's victorious and scary ending.

When all the food had been eaten, so that everyone's bellies were at least twice the size as before and the Potters had hugged and kissed the Granger-Weasleys goodbye, Ginny went outside to look for Albus while Harry started cleaning up the dishes (Hermione had routinely asked to help with the cleaning-up and Harry and Ginny had routinely refused like the proper hosts that they were).
Ginny found her son in a far corner of the garden, lying on his belly under the branches of a giant rhododendron bush, watching some small leafy plants that didn't seem to be doing much more than just standing there. She knelt down next to Albus. This made him glance over at her, acknowledging her arrival silently before turning back to the leafy plants.

"What are you looking at?", Ginny asked, "trying to watch the flowers grow? You'll have to be very patient for that", she smiled down at him.
Albus didn't answer. They both stared at the plants in silence for a little while.
"Don't you want to come inside? Aren't you scared out here in the dark?" - "And it's bedtime soon too", she added, trying to sound stern.
Albus glanced at her again and then, looking away said softly: "They're Mandrakes."
Ginny gave a start and looked at the plants again. She had never been very good at herbology, but she did remember that Mandrakes grew thick, dark green leaves on top of their heads that did look quite like the ones that she was staring at now.
Suddenly, she jumped up grabbing Albus' arm and yanking him off the ground with her.
"Albus, don't you know how dangerous they are?", she shrieked and started pulling him back towards the house, "What were you thinking going up so close to them?"
Albus didn't resist and didn't answer. Just stumbled after his mother and stared up at her through his thick glasses with a gloomy expression that irritated her even more.
"I've told you a thousand times that if you find dangerous plants or creatures in the garden you have to tell me or your father! Mandrakes can kill, Albus, do you hear me? Their scream can kill you!"
"Whatever that gardener was thinking", she now muttered more to herself, "leaving Mandrakes in the garden where children are playing."
They had reached the back door, homely yellow light shining through it from the insides. Ginny shivered although it was a warm summer night and turned to Albus, bringing her face down to his and looking him straight in the eyes.
"Albus, I need you to promise me that you won't go there again. I'll let the gardener know to remove them as soon as possible. But I need to know that you understand the danger, okay?"
Albus still looked at her with that glum expression, which seemed to have sunken even more at the word "remove". She felt anger rising in her after a long day and a long dinner. Did he have to be so difficult?
"They don't scream if you don't pull them out", he offered in a small voice.
"Albus", she tried again, her tone kinder, the worry in it the same, "I will tell the gardener to bring them to a nice place where they can grow in peace, alright? But imagine your sister Lily coming out to play and pulling at those funny leaves under the bush. It's just not safe! Promise me you'll stay away and I'll keep an extra eye on Lily, okay?"
Albus looked at her for a while, thinking. Then he slowly nodded.
"I've been watching them for weeks", he said quietly, "they talk to each other. You can hear it when you put your ear on the ground. They do have feelings, mum."
"I believe you", Ginny said and felt like crying all of a sudden, "but still promise me to stay away. And I'll promise to tell the gardener to bring them somewhere nice. Deal?"
Albus considered this. "Deal.", he answered. And, after some consideration he added: "they like to be in the shade."

Chapter Text

Albus Potter was standing in the middle of a small, crammed store that smelled pleasantly of clean fabric and lavender. Along the round walls hung coats and cloaks in all sizes and colours. Some sparkled, some gently blew in a breeze that wasn't there, some stretched their sleeved arms as if they were tired from hanging around all day.

A measuring tape was busily swishing about, measuring every inch of Albus' body: Between his toes, down his forehead, around his round belly and wide hips, the length of his upper arm, the distance between his thumb and pinky, the width of his round, peachy face and even the length of his maroon hair. At the same time, two mirrors were floating aorund him, up and down and left and right, so that Albus could see every part of his body cringe uncomfortably. His father Harry was standing to his side, pretending to look through some Ravenclaw themed school robes. Albus and Harry never really knew what to talk about with one another so Albus suspected that the same wave of dread had washed over both of them when Ginny had told them that they should do Albus' Diagon Alley shopping together while she stocked up on potion ingredients for the kitchen and went over to Quality Quidditch Supplies with James who wanted to convince her to buy him the new Starlight X. Both Harry and Albus knew it was a scheme of Ginny - she would never buy James a new broom after he had gotten the latest Nimbus model for Christmas, having begged and pleaded with his parents for the whole year leading up to it.
But neither father nor son could think of a good reason why they shouldn't do the shopping together which brought them to this rather awkward moment in Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.

As Albus was standing there he thought back to the dinner three nights ago. A strange mix of feeling sorry and angry had settled in him since then. He hadn't meant to make everyone uncomfortable. And uncomfortable they had been, he had sensed that much. He also hadn't meant to spoil Uncle Ron's story - he liked Uncle Ron. He was very kind and honest, even if he was a bit rough and clumsy at times. And he liked Hermione too, she would take Albus seriously and make time for just him sometimes knowing how hard it was for him to speak up in a group.
But at the same time he also felt angry. How did they manage to ignore this feeling? Or was he the only one who felt it? How could they not mind, not even think about it at all?
People always called him "sensitive", was that it? Was it more normal to not care?

Once the measuring was done and Harry had given Madam Malkin the list of robes that Albus would need together with a handsome amount of silver sickles they went over to Flourish and Blotts to get all of Albus' schoolbooks, then to a small Ink & Quills and next to Yasmin's Wonderful Cauldrons & Kettles where apart from a set of cauldrons and utensils they also found the "Hogwarts Potions Starter Box" which contained all of the potion ingredients that Albus would need during his first year.

For most of their shopping trip they walked silently next to each other, with Harry trying the occasional "Aren't you excited about going to Hogwarts?", "I'll bet you'll make lots of friends!" or "Look at those ghoul's eyes! Creepy huh?"
Albus answered with shrugs and nods and - in case of the ghoul's eyes which were pickled in a jar behind the counter at Yasmin's - by throwing up in the middle of the store. Harry cleaned up the mess with a swish of his wand and an apologetic smile to Ms. Yasmin before gently ushering Albus out of the store and asking if he was alright.
"Do all the potions contain things that once lived?", Albus asked, still a bit white in the face.
"No!", Harry answered soothingly, "there is... let's see... hm, no. Well actually... now that I'm thinking about it I can't come up with one that doesn't."
"But I'm sure the creatures that are er... harvested for potion ingredients lead long and happy lives!", he added quickly seeing the look on his son's face.
"You really pity them don't you?"
Albus shrugged, his expression glazed over again. He wasn't sure if that was the right way to put it, it didn't feel that conscious somehow. The nausea that overcame him in moments like these felt like instinct, something from deep inside him that he couldn't control. Like his intestines were being turned out, like his skin being pulled off. It was similar to this feeling you get in dreams sometimes when you can't really point at what's wrong but you just know that something is terribly, dreadfully wrong and you have no power to stop it.
"Well, I know what'll cheer you up!", Harry exclaimed now with genuine enthusiasm, "let's get you your wand!"

Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker from whom everyone that Albus knew had gotten their wands had died of old age two years ago, not long after James had gotten his wand.
In the place where Mr. Ollivander's storefront had once been, three new wandmaker shops had sprung up, as if they had been already in the ground underneath, waiting for Ollivander's glorious monopoly to finally come to and end.

There was "Avery & Nott- Finest wands for witches and wizards who know their worth - Supreme Cores only", "World Wands - Materials and skills from all over the world for your best selection!" and "Magestics - We make your wand".

The first two had highly decorated, glimmering storefronts with large windows displaying their products. Avery & Nott used a more simple, yet pompous design with three slender and beautiful wands hovering over a big velvet cushion each, the burgundy curtains behind them decorated with ornaments in silver and gold. There was a faint glow surrounding the wands on display and everything was gleamingly clean, purposeful and polished. World Wands on the other hand went all out in terms of scenery. Bewitched puppets with pointed black hats on their heads were climbing through a jungle of big green leaves, sending sparks into the air from the wands in their outstretched hands. Then the scenery changed and they were now trudging through a desert shielding their eyes from a sandstorm. Then sliding down a glacier - an ocean - a volcano! Only the third storefront, that of Magestics seemed a bit timid in comparison. A rough wooden door lead into a not very special looking wooden house. Except for the sign above the small extremely dusty window, there was no indication that this was a place you were welcome to enter. Also, Albus thought to himself, the name of the store was probably meant to be read as MagEStics, like the word majestic but it looked a lot like Mage-sticks which sounded a bit funny and plump.

"Hm, which one shall we go to?", Harry mused next to him, looking the three shops over, "that one on the left sounds like some right pureblood uppity if you ask me. But there was a reason why Ollivander only used the three supreme wand cores. I think we'd have a good chance of finding you a decent wand there even if the company might not be the most pleasant. What do you think? Want to try it?"
Albus shrugged and smiled apologetically. He didn't want to spoil his father's enthusiasm but he wasn't looking forward to this as much as he did. Most of the wands he had encountered in his life made him uncomfortable and nauseous in much the same way that some food did. Actually his dad's wand was the only one that didn't. Albus had always wondered why.
Harry took his shrug as a yes anyway and they marched in.

As soon as they had crossed the threshold Albus' worries were being confirmed. A massive wave of nausea washed over him. It felt like a stench of blood and burning was entering his nose even though the room they had entered was as clean and polished as the window had been. Albus found himself surrounded with pain. It was as if a thousand faint voices were screaming in the distance at him and he felt a strong tug at his heart, as if someone was trying to pull it out of his chest.
He clasped a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up and tried to focus on his breathing.

Meanwhile Harry hadn't noticed his child's distress as he had strode forward into the room, admiring the rows of beautifully decorated shelves along every wall that displayed wands of all shades and sizes.
Through an archway in the back wall people were entering the room now. The first one was a small and skinny wizard with skin that looked as crinkly and brown as burnt parchment and was partly covered in a long veil of straight black hair. His back was a bit bent as if he was constantly bowing and his general demeanor seemed matched this first impression of subservience. He was shuffling backwards into the room, gesticulating nervously and talking up to the person that was following, a tall, very pale man with short blond hair and a pointy face that wore an expression of mild annoyance.

"Very good choice sir", the small wizard said in a raspy high-pitched voice, "I believe your son will do your name justice with a wand like this. Only few get chosen by a phoenix feather wand. Very impressive! Powerful. Loyal. And most versatile if I may say so." And he actually made a little bow this time.
Behind the two adults a boy roughly the same age as Albus entered. He looked much like the tall man before him. The only difference between the two was that the dark, almost black eyes of the boy that were stettled in his ivory face had a kind warmth to them that was not to be found in the cold bored grey of the man who was most probably his father.
The last person to enter was a very tall and broad-shouldered man who had to duck a little to fit under the archway. His skin was ghostly white and his face set in severity with a perfectly triangular grey beard that was hanging to his chest, a monocle in one of his eyes and a bald head that gleamed as if it had been polished as thoroughly as the wands in the display window. When he turned to close a curtain behind him Albus could see what looked like a large grayish scar that started on the back of his head and vanished under the high collar of his purple robes.

The four wizards had finally noticed Albus and Harry, the latter of which had notably stiffened at the entrance of the blond man. The two of them were eyeing each other and Albus could sense resentment between them. This must be Draco Malfoy, he thought - a common character in the stories of his parents and even though Harry had assured his children that Draco had changed a great deal since then he remained a villainous figure in Albus' head whatsoever. Now, seeing the way his father raise an eyebrow at Mr. Malfoy daring him to make the first move he thought that maybe it was the same way for Harry too.
"Potter.", Malfoy finally said in a carefully uninterested tone.
"Malfoy.", Harry responded in a similar fight for neutrality, "getting a wand for your son too?"
Malfoy gave the slightest nod and turned around to the counter behind which the small wizard had slithered and was hectically tapping his own wand on something that looked like an elaborate golden calculating machine of some sorts. "How much do I owe you, Avery?", the blond man drawled.
While Avery muttered and tapped and dove under the counter seemingly searching for something, Albus' eyes met with those of the boy whose name he now remembered his dad mentioning was Scorpius.
Scorpius gave a kind of apologetic shrug and grinned at Albus. It was a friendly grin, with a mischievous gleam in the eyes and Albus shyly reciprocated it. Scorpius pulled out his new wand which was of a dark brown wood and quite short and pretended to bewitch his father's back with something. Albus chuckled. Even from a distance he could tell that the stubby wand that Scorpius was holding didn't cause him pain, just like Harry's didn't.
The two men were done with the haggling now and Draco Malfoy decidedly pushed his son (who was now pretending to scrape dirt from underneath his fingernails with his wand) towards the door. With another stiff nod from Mr. Malfoy and a last playful wink from Scorpius they disappeared with the door falling shut behind them.

There was no wand at Avery & Nott's for Albus. After they had moved to the back room where there were no wands but plenty of cushions (probably to make for a safe surrounding to try out powerful wands) the noise in Albus' head had grown fainter. The small wizard called Avery had rushed back and forth between backroom and store and shoved wand after wand into Albus' hand. Most of them immediately caused him a strong headache, their screams and crying piercing his ears. The few that didn't seemed to still not fit him. They just felt like sticks in his hand and didn't do much more than that either.
Mr. Avery kept muttering apologies and making little bows to them, promising that this had never happened before and that Albus must surely be an extra-ordinary wizard in need of an extra-ordinary wand - and no wonder at that, seeing his powerful lineage but it was really most curious as they were using only prime materials, not like the neighbours who stooped as low as to use Kneazle whiskers again which were known to make for weak and unpredictable wands - and surely they would find something befitting of Albus' powers…
Until finally the other wizard, who was probably Mr. Nott stated in a low, rumbling voice: "Some wizards simply aren't made for a supreme wand."
There was a sudden silence as if a heavy blanket had been thrown over them all.
"What's that supposed to mean?", Harry snapped.
"Well, one could say that there is a prize for turning on your own kind", the bald wizard responded calmly, "I'm not saying this out of hostility, it is just a well-known fact that children from mixed-blood families tend to have weaker magic."
Albus could feel his father's anger rising behind him like the wave of a tsunami building up. He turned around and tugged on Harry's robes. "Let's just go", he whispered. His dad looked down at him and nodded grimly. They turned to the curtained arch, but before they were through it Harry turned around once more and spat through gritted teeth: "It is a well-known fact that children from so-called pureblood families turn out to be disgusting adults too."

When they were outside, Harry was still fuming. Albus felt his anger too, but mostly he was relieved to be out of the store with all of its suffering.
"Should've told him that he's a few decades too late with his bigotry", Harry muttered, "well-known fact... what a load of... you'd think nowadays they wouldn't dare anymore!"
And then, putting a hand on Albus' shoulder he said: "I'm sorry Albus. We never should've gone in there."
Albus nodded in a way that he hoped was reassuring.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"Why didn't you tell him that I am not even mixed-blood? I'm pureblood, aren't I?"
"Because it doesn't matter.", Harry said firmly, "All of that blood-stuff, it's just made up, you know? It doesn't make any difference! So I don't want to go down to his level and pretend that it does. And you shouldn't either."
Albus nodded. His dad could be pretty wise after all. Sometimes he forgot that his father had fought in a war against Lord Voldemort when he had been just a little older than Albus was now. He knew of course that most people treated Harry Potter like a hero and that some hated their family without having ever known them, but that had always just felt like a part of life and Albus rarely thought of the circumstances that had made it so.

"Should we try the other one?", Harry asked now, pointing at World Wands, "looks a lot nicer, doesn't it?"
"Actually", Albus whispered, so that his dad had to bend down to hear him properly, "could we try the small one first?" and Harry followed his gaze to the wooden sign that said "Magestics - We make your wand".
"Mage-sticks?", Harry asked skeptically. But then he seemed to think better of it. "Yes, why not? Sometimes humble's the choice, isn't it?", he grinned broadly at Albus who gave back a timid smile. Humility hadn't been on his mind, he much rather hoped that there would be less wands in the tiny store that could scream at him.

Chapter Text

When they entered, the first thing that Albus noticed was that they were not standing in a small wooden hut but in a sort of huge open indoor park or garden. There were bushes and grass and actual trees growing next to all kinds of magical flowers. Flowers that spat small shimmering bubbles that floated gently through the air until they popped, flowers that had long drooping petals that glittered in the light and who shook themselves ever so slightly to the sound of tiny bells chiming. There were gigantic sunflowers than shone like chandeliers and filled the room with a bright, sunny light and there were small blue daisies which were coughing delicately, trying to cover their petaled faces with their leaves as if they were feeling shy about it.

The place was teeming with life. There were hundreds of insects humming and buzzing around, gnawing at twigs, rustling through the leaves that covered the ground. And Albus could spot small furry creatures swishing about, hiding in bushes, climbing on the wooden beams that held the ceiling high above them - even birds were singing invisibly somewhere in the treetops.

The second thing that Albus noticed was the silence in his head. There was no crying, no suffocating wave of emotion and pain. Just the vivid calmness of the garden around him.
"Never judge a book by its cover, huh?", Harry grinned beside him, looking around in amazement. Albus didn't answer, too occupied with taking in all of the movement and twitching and chirping around him.

"Oh well, hello hello!", a cheerful voice came from somewhere to their left. Albus and Harry both turned.
A young-looking person in a long pastel blue dress had appeared from somewhere behind the trees. They had a bouquet of curly black hair on top of their head and some dark stubble along their chin and jaw. Their ebony skin reflected the shimmering aliveness surrounding them as they walked towards Harry and Albus in elegant, feathery strides. Albus couldn't tell if the person was a man or a woman. When they came to a halt in front of him their deep brown eyes looked down kindly at Albus.
"Some of us are both", the person said softly as if they had read his mind. Albus lowered his head, shame rising in him followed by some sort of giddy excitement. Only now did he notice that a small creature with large bat-like ears had appeared seemingly out of nowhere next to the blue-dressed person.

"Are you, er - a wandmaker?", he heard his dad ask above him. He too seemed a bit confused.
"We are", a squeaky and rather nasal voice responded. It belonged to the second creature. Albus looked out from under his lashes and realized that they must be a house elf. They were just about two feet tall, had spindly legs and arms and were dressed in a suit of green velvet perfectly tailored to their size and stature. Albus had heard about house elves, especially about Dobby who was a hero in his dad's history, but he had never seen an elf, let alone one that looked like the one who was standing before him. The elf's skin was as white as porcelain. They had a long nose that pointed upwards and their huge eyes glowed red like burning embers and were rimmed with long, white lashes.
"Shalky is a fine carver of wood, dear mages", the Elf pointed at themselves, "and Mx. Mirrymar has the Sight to find which core will truly reflect its holder".
Albus noticed that the Elf had said "Mix" instead of Mister or Miss and also that they had used the American "mage" instead of saying wizard or witch.
"You are looking for a wand for your son Albus, aren't you?", Mx. Mirrymar adressed his dad.
"Er yes but... how do you know his name?", Harry asked, sounding suspicious.
"Oh, I saw you coming!", Mx. Mirrymar responded lightly and laughed. It was a very endearing laugh, low and full and soothing like their voice. Albus finally found the courage to look up again and found his eyes meeting with theirs. He felt a strong wave of sympathy flood through him and couldn't tell if it was his own or Mx. Mirrymar's or both.
"I didn't like the wands at Avery and Nott's", he found himself saying and was surprised how clear and confidently the words had left his mouth.
"And how should you!", Mx. Mirrymar exclaimed heatedly, "When they are made from pain and suffering. When beautiful creature's such as dragons are slain for them!"
"And unicorns captured", Shalky added, "to cut the hair from their necks. And the gold from their hooves when they're already at it".
Both of them shook their heads in sad synchrony.

Albus could feel his father shift uncomfortably next to him. "Yes.", he said as if they had been discussing business, "but where do you keep your wands?"
"They are all around us", Mx. Mirrymar proclaimed extending their arm, gesturing at the garden. Harry and Albus both looked stupefied at the trees and flowers, trying to spy wands in them.
"A wand is in a tree", Shalky explained, "Shalky can find the wand in the tree and ask the tree to give its permission to take it".
"But first", Mx. Mirrymar added merrily, "we need to find out which tree!" and they winked at Albus as if they had been friends for a long time, keeping a secret together. "May I take your hand?", they asked and Albus nodded. So they took Albus' hand in theirs which was big and soft and had long nails that were painted in the same shade of blue as their dress. They led Albus to the nearest tree and put his hand on the bark.
"Apple", they said, crouching down next to Albus. It was a rather small tree with rich green leaves and grey-brown bark that was a little rough, like sandpaper.
"Try if you can feel something. If the tree speaks to you, listen. What does it make you feel?"
Albus felt a little weird standing there with his hand against a tree trunk but he tried to follow what Mx. Mirrymar suggested. He closed his eyes and focused on the tree before him. It felt like he could hear a faint whisper. It was soothing, as if he was almost asleep and his mother telling a bedtime story next to him.
"I see", Mx. Mirrymars voice pulled Albus out of the fantasy and into embarrassment.
"Well done! You can hear the trees' voices already. Now, don't try to make out the words, listen to the emotion the tree is sending you. This wasn't quite the one yet. Shalky, do you want to take it from here?"
Albus hadn't heard Shalky come after them, but suddenly they stood right between Albus and the apple tree. Their red eyes were fixed on Albus in a piercing stare as if they were looking right into his deepest, most hidden thoughts and feelings. Then Shalky grabbed Albus' hand and hurriedly pulled him towards another tree which looked like a large Christmas tree. "Pine.", Shalky announced, "Independent, individual, a little stubborn if you ask Shalky. Beautiful wood to work with". Albus had to crawl under the tree on all fours to reach the trunk.
"What are you hearing, young mage?", Shalky asked from beyond the branches.
"Something... something mysterious. There's a secret and... it doesn't want to tell me."
"Not the one!" squeaked Shalky and Albus felt a skinny hand grab his robes and pull him out from under the tree. They continued to another.
This one wasn't even a tree, rather a short knotty stump with big, serrated leaves and purple grapes hanging down from its bushy crown - a vine.
Albus could hear barely more than a whisper.

Next they went to a Holly. "It wants to protect me!", Albus exclaimed - was this the one? The voice of the holly felt like an embrace, warm and strong. "It wants to hold me... close... Hold me close to it's heart... keep me there...forever? - ahhh let go!" A piece of bark had started growing over Albus' hand and slithered back like a snake when Albus jerked his hand away from the tree.

They continued less dramatically with a Rosewood Tree (a faint feeling of vanity that Albus couldn't much relate to) and an Alder (stubborn. Didn't want to talk to him).
After that Albus touched Laurel (called him lazy), Pear (an urge to become friends that felt superficial) and Sycamore (a sense of brilliance and vitaly, a call for adventure that didn't seem to be meant for him). Then Beech, Walnut and Hawthorn and a range of other trees and shrubs. Shalky kept informing Albus of this and that property, describing how the wood was to be treated and what the tree symbolized. But whenever Albus repeated what he was hearing Shalky shook their head and pulled him to the next.
And then, just when Albus was ready to give up and accept that there simply was no wood that spoke to him the way it apparently should he touched the furrowed grey bark of a large tree that had long beautiful drooping strands of leaves that hung all around him like a magical curtain - and he felt it. It was as if a light was streaming through him. Warmth spread from his fingers into his arm and through every part of his body. He heard a clear, low voice vibrate in his chest singing a song that was as familiar as if he had known for all his life but he couldn't quite name it. He felt calm and clear as if nothing in the world would ever again be able to hurt him.
"That's the one!", he heard Shalky exclaim next to him. Albus opened his eyes and reluctantly took his hand off the tree's body.
"Should have tried willow earlier", Shalky was muttering now, "healing power... selecting those of great potential, but with big insecurities..." their stinging red eyes ran over Albus which made him uncomfortable. "Great power in non-verbal magic", they added approvingly, "and they make beautiful wands, they do."
Shalky turned their eyes back to the tree. "Albus Potter should find Mx. Mirrymar now to discuss his core. Shalky has to persuade this willow to give Shalky that marvelous piece that is containing the young mage's wand."

Albus wished he could have stayed and watched but there was something definite in the elf's voice and they waved him away with their four-fingered hand impatiently so Albus turned around and stepped out of the hanging leaves to find his way back to his dad and Mx. Mirrymar.
The garden was even bigger than it had seemed at first and there were so many interesting plants and animals that Albus had to stop frequently to look at them and it took him quite a while to make his way back.

"Ah! You found your wood.", Mx. Mirrymar proclaimed happily upon seeing him, "Yes, willow is a beauty." Their face had taken on a dreamy expression.
But then they clapped their hands together as if to wake themselves up and turned to Albus' father. "Now Albus and I will have a talk to find his wand core. You may take a stroll through the garden in the meantime. But please do not try to listen, this is only for Albus. - And me!" they gave a playful wink.
Harry looked sceptically at Albus who nodded, hoping to radiate confidence.

Mx. Mirrymar led Albus to a small clearing underneath some large Fir trees and they both sat down. For a while Mx. Mirrymar just looked into Albus' eyes and he tried to hold their gaze. From this close up he could see their sharp features and broad nose and how the lashes underneath their eyes were almost as long as the ones above. The hair on Mx. Mirrymar's chin seemed to shift a little all the time, growing and retreating as if it had a will of it's own.
"I can tell that you have a lot of empathy", Mx. Mirrymar finally stated. "Willow really does fit you, maybe you'll become a wonderful healer one day. But the choice what you'll become is always yours of course."
Albus nodded awkwardly. He was was dreading and at the same time felt impatient to get to his wand core.
"Your core", Mx. Mirrymar continued and Albus again had the feeling that they had read his mind, "should be something that represents you. Something that is dear to you, has a meaning for you. Can you think of something befitting that description?"
Albus thought. What was dear to him? His family of course. But he could hardly put his mother in a wand. A horrifying image rose in him. All the other students at Hogwarts with their unicorn hair and dragon heartstring wands asking him what his core was and him stuttering "M-My mother's hair...". Albus' face grew red.
Mx. Mirrymar's gaze was still invariably fixated on him.
"There is no shame in loving your mother. But this is not enough. What makes you different from others Albus?", they asked.
Irritation rose in Albus. Why did everyone always have to make him feel like a weirdo? "I'm not different.", he mumbled defiantly.
"You are.", Mx. Mirrymar said matter-of-factly, "And everyone is. I didn't mean to make you feel like an outsider, Albus. We just need to find out what makes you unique."
Albus swallowed his anger and tried to think again.
"I...", he began shyly, "...I care for animals?". It sounded extremely stupid once he had said it aloud. But Mx. Mirrymar clapped their hands together joyfully. "Yes!" they exclaimed, "now Albus, was there any situation in which you felt that love strongly? Did you ever own anything that represents this love for other creatures?"

Suddenly it was clear to Albus. He thought of the evening two days ago when the gardener had come and they all had had to wear earmuffs and stay in the house. Albus had watched from his window how the Mandrakes were being pulled out of the ground, mutely screaming their lungs out, kicking and wriggling in Mrs. Portifidge's hands. He had watched how Mrs. Portifidge had carefully put them in a large box and shovelled dirt onto them.
When it was all over and Mrs. Portifidge had left with the mandrakes Albus had gone outside to the large bush and stared at the dug up earth. He had cried a little, not knowing if he was sad or happy that the mandrakes would now go to a different place where they could grow in peace. Would they think of him? Had they ever noticed that he was there, listening, sometimes speaking to them? He immediately felt stupid for the thought.
But as he had stood there, tears rolling out from under his glasses he noticed something: One big, dark green leaf lay on the upturned ground. Had it fallen off? Or had one of them left it for him? Carefully, Albus picked up the leaf and put it into his pocket.

Now, under the big fir trees and with Mx. Mirrymar's gentle eyes on him, he pulled the leaf out of his pocket with a trembling hand and held it out before them.
"Oh!", they breathed softly, "a Mandrake leaf." they looked up at Albus again and he was surprised to see that their brown eyes were watering. "Mandrake and willow", they mused, "what a wonderful combination. I can't wait to make that wand!"

Mx. Mirrymar had ushered Harry and Albus out of the garden and told them to come back in an hour. On Diagon Alley they stood confusedly as if they had just woken up from a strange dream. Harry gathered himself first. He shook his head, then he looked at Albus and smiled. "Care for an ice cream?"
Albus grinned and nodded vigorously.
At the ice cream parlor he ordered a big bowl of fruit ice creams and they sat outside of the parlor on a small wall a bit away from the hustle and bustle of the shopping street.
"That Mx. Mirrymar was something, huh?", Harry asked between bites, "and the other one, what was his name? Her name?"
"Shalky", Albus mumbled.
"Right, Shalky. A house elf working next to a human! We have to tell Hermione that, maybe S.P.E.W. has finally borne fruit."
S.P.E.W. (the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare) had been an organization that Hermione had founded during her time at Hogwarts. Years later it had become a mere joke between the adults but Albus had never really understood what was so funny about it. With the treatment of house elves that his dad and his friends described S.P.E.W. should not have been a joke, he thought.
"Mx. Mirrymar didn't seem to have liked Mr. Ollivander very much", Harry continued, interrupting Albus' thoughts, "called him a 'lesser evil but an evil nonetheless'. Also really didn't approve of the supreme wand cores."
Harry seemed thoughtful. "You know, I never thought much about it. My wand found me so quickly, I kind of thought it was like this for everyone. Apparently in the earlier ages it was common practice to make wands the way that Mx. Mirrymar and Shalky are doing it. People would bring something that is of value or dear to them and the wandmakers would find the wood for it."

"Ah yes!", he exclaimed as if he had just remembered, "so what is your core now?"
But before Albus could even try to answer they were interrupted by the arrival of Ginny, Lily and James. James had a sulking look on his face and Lily was busily licking a huge fizzing lollipop. Ginny looked exhausted and was still arguing with James over why they were not getting him a new broom, not even if it was the fastest broom ever produced, not even if it would definitely win them the house cup, not even if he promised to take care of it super-extra well, polishing it every day.
Their discussion continued when they sat down and Harry got involved now too while Ginny absentmindedly stroked Albus' hair and asked him how his shopping had been but didn't leave time for an answer.

So Albus leaned back and tried to imagine his new wand. But it wouldn't materialize. Whenever he tried to think of it he just saw Mx. Mirrymar's face in front of his. The sharp jaw, the broad nose, the dark, twinkling eyes, the shiny curls and the headstrong stubble.
Some of us are both.
Who could have known that such an thing existed? Something about the thought that one could be neither boy nor girl tugged at a point in his chest that felt dangerously like it could explode at any moment.
Albus barely noticed them getting up again and he just trotted after his family, his mind still running. He was thinking of Shalky and their big white-rimmed eyes and their squeaky voice. What was an elf-girl? How did they differ from elf-boys? Was it the same difference as between witches and wizards?

"Albus?", a voice called and Albus could tell by the tone that it wasn't the first time his mother had called his name. "Do you want us to come inside with you?", she asked and Albus realized that they were standing in front of the run-down facade of Magestics again. But before he could answer the door burst open and out strode Mx. Mirrymar and Shalky, both with a similar expression of proud excitement on their faces. Mx. Mirrymar held their hands outstretched in front of them, a long, slender wand laying across their palms. It was of a bright, soft wood and curved as if it was slowly spinning around itself. The handle looked perfectly smooth and was shaped as if it was craving to be held, so Albus took it reverently into his trembling hands.
"Willow wood, mandrake leaf core, 12,7 inches", Shalky announced.
"Give it a try", Mx. Mirrymar said encouragingly.
Albus grabbed the wand tighter and waved it around a bit clumsily. In an instant the wand started purring like a cat and vibrated in Albus' hand and it emitted a flash of purple sparks. Albus' eyes grew almost as big as Shalky's and his smile nearly reached his ears when he grinned at his parents.
Everyone's faces lit up with Albus' as if his ability to feel other people's emotions had spontaneously reversed.
Then, all of a sudden, Ginny's smile fell. She looked back at Shalky.
"Wait, did you say MANDRAKE LEAF?!"

Chapter Text

It was hot on platform 9 ¾. The shiny red engine of the Hogwarts Express was lazily puffing steam into the vibrating late-summer air. Underneath, hundreds of witches and wizards were crowding the platform filling it with sweat, heat and noise. Suitcases were being levitated above the crowd, owls were flying around, spreading their wings one last time before the long train ride, and everywhere parents were giving last minute advice and kisses to their children.

Albus and his family stood near the last carriage together. James had already hurried off to search for his school friends and find a compartment, so it was just Albus’ younger sister Lily who was clinging to Harry’s hand and whining about wanting to go on the train too, and his mother Ginny who was currently fussing over his hair.
“Grandma always wanted to cut Uncle Bill’s hair, you know?”, she said to Albus, “But I think you look really handsome wearing it long.”
Albus wasn’t listening. He was too flooded with the busyness around him. There was joy and sadness and worry and stress and annoyance and excitement and movement and fluttering and chattering and laughter and…. Albus’ closed his eyes to drown out at least some of all the things that were falling into him.
He tried to focus on the feelings around him, trying to distinguish them and find something to focus on. There – someone nearby was expressing a strong and clear love. Albus opened one eye and squinted in the direction the emotion was coming from.
An older student with bright green hair that they wore in two thin braids before their ears and square little knots all over their head was hugging a younger girl in a red dress with frizzy black hair that was combed up into two fluffy buns. Their faces had the similarity of siblings, and the love was coming from the older one, soothing over the nervosity of the younger. Albus felt a spark of jealousy thinking about how his brother seemed to be embarrassed to be seen with him and would never ever hug him in public like that.

Feeling someone’s eyes in his back Albus turned around and squinted towards the train windows. Someone was pressing their face to the glass and stared straight at him – it was the boy from the wand store, Scorpius Malfoy. When their eyes met, Scorpius’ face vanished from the glass. When it reappeared, he had smoothed over his otherwise unruly blond hair into a neat side parting and wore an expression of sour boredom that made him look intensely like his father. He was lifting his wand now like a big reprimanding index finger and started scolding an invisible person below him. Albus chuckled.
“But I want to go now!”, Lily interrupted by jumping in front of Albus and hopping up and down, “I want to learn magic too! Why do I have to wait?”
“Because...” Harry growled playfully as he tried to catch Lily who was running away squeaking and hiding behind Ginny now, “...you’ll have to show us your magic first!” and he caught her and bobbed her on the nose. Lily squirmed and giggled but Albus noticed his mother going rigid next to him and a sense of fear and anger suddenly radiated from her. But before Albus could ask what was going on the train gave a long, loud hoot and he could feel his mother shaking herself out of it and then leading him urgently to the carriage door.
“Don’t forget to write to us as soon as possible”, she said while she kissed him on the cheeks, “and change your robes from time to time. And don’t go around breaking rules, you hear me? Oh, and don’t forget to take your medicine!”
“And have fun”, Harry added and winked as he hugged Albus goodbye. Then, leaning in closely he whispered: “Rule-breaking only in mortal peril, alright?”
“Bye Albus!”, Lily almost screamed in his ear, “send me tons of letters, pleeeaase!”
And then the train door fell shut behind him with a mechanical huff and suddenly there was silence.

The corridor lay empty and long before him, muffled voices and laughter coming from behind the compartment doors.
Albus slowly walked by them, little rooms full of older students, packed with bags and suitcases and the occasional cage. He was dragging his own suitcase after him, a rose-coloured one with a yellow ribbon that he had gotten for his birthday. He didn’t dare to ask if he could join at any of the compartments, most of them being full anyway.
Towards the end of the carriage, he got more nervous. Now there were only three compartments left. The first one contained two much older girls and a grey cat that hissed at him, and he walked by quickly. At the second compartment, in which three boys around his age seemed to be joking around, he was about to knock when one of them noticed him and shouted through the glass: “No girls allowed!”
Albus’ face grew red, and, as he scrambled to get out of sight, he stumbled and fell flat on his face. Full of shame and embarrassment Albus considered to just stay on the ground for the rest of the train ride and pretend he wasn’t there.
But when he slowly lifted his head a tiny bit to peer into the last compartment, he found himself staring directly into the black eyes of Scorpius Malfoy, who was crouching on the floor between the seats, his face inches away from Albus’. He now slid the compartment door open that separated their noses from touching and said with a grin “Oh good, you’re alive. Want to join me?” And he gestured to the six empty seats around him.
Albus nodded and got clumsily to his feet. Scorpius watched him as he heaved his suitcase into the small space and lifted it with much struggle onto two of the seats.

“Nice suitcase”, Scorpius said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice and plopped down on the seat between the suitcase and the window. Albus sat down opposite of him.
For a while neither of them said anything and they just looked out of the window. Then, Albus glanced over at Scorpius. He seemed to have trouble holding still, always shifting and moving, tapping his feet, fidgeting with his hands and blinking very hard from time to time, like Albus did when he was without his glasses. Scorpius noticed his gaze and looked back, lifting an eyebrow.
“So, what’s your name?”, he asked and Albus realized that he hadn’t introduced himself.
“I’m Albus”, he mumbled.
“I’m Scorpius”, Scorpius exclaimed.
“Yeah, I kind of knew that”, Albus responded apologetically.
“Ha, I knew that you’re Albus too. Albus Severus Potter, child of The Boy Who Lived”, he said solemnly, “is it okay if I call you Al? Makes it sound less like you’re a grandpa.”
Albus gave a small laugh and shrugged. Al sounded good. He had never particularly liked nor disliked his name very much. It was just his name.
“Hm, but what should you call me then?”, Scorpius mused, “Scor? No, that sounds stupid… Corpse! No, too dark…”
Before he could think of more suggestions someone knocked on their compartment door. It was the girl in the red dress Albus had seen on the platform. She slid the door open energetically but then just stood there, kneading her hands and staring into the space between him and Scorpius.
Albus noticed that she was wearing glasses too, large oval ones, rimmed thinly in gold. Instead of carrying a suitcase her back was bent under the weight of a large patched-up backpack.
She looked to her right for a moment and then seemed to muster up the courage to speak.
“Hello, I’m Kinley MacDonald. She/her. Could I maybe sit with you, please?”, she asked very formally, still not looking at either of them.
“Sure!”, Scorpius said and jumped up as if he had been waiting for an excuse to leave his seat again, “come in! I’m Scorpius Malfoy and this is Albus Potter. But we call him Al.”
Albus didn’t know who “we” was supposed to be but maybe got his answer as Kinley waved shyly in his direction and said “Hi, Al.”
Then she looked to her right again and smiled up at someone who had to be standing in the corridor. “Bye then”, she said, and a many-ringed brown hand came into view to ruffle her buns. “Bye mushroom. I’ll come check on you later again, okay?” a low pubescent voice said. Then the hand vanished, and Kinley turned back to Scorpius who was standing in front of her, bouncing on the balls of his feet and craning his neck trying to catch a glimpse at the invisible stranger.

“Can I come in?”, Kinley asked, and Scorpius jumped out of the way.
“Oh, yes, sorry!”, he said “Is it your first year too? Are you excited? What house do you reckon you’ll get sorted into?” Every time he spoke, the words were tumbling out of his mouth hurriedly and breathlessly, like a river spilling from a cliff.
Kinley gently put down her backpack on the seat nearest to the door and extended a hand to it. Only now did Albus notice that three snow-white rats with red eyes were sitting on top of it and were now climbing onto Kinley’s outstretched arm one after the other.
“Wow!”, Scorpius exclaimed bouncing up and down in his seat, forgetting all about his previous questions, “You have rats! Are they magical? What can they do? What are their names?”
“Simber, Tekkie and Mr. Bobinsky”, Kinley answered, pointing at each one of them and Albus wondered how she could tell them apart. Mr. Bobinsky had climbed into her hair and was nibbling on her ear now while the other two were exploring the puffy sleeves of her dress. “They’re not magical but they are very clever and do lots of things.”
“Aren’t we supposed to bring only one pet?”, Scorpius asked.
“Yes, but I asked for special permission, because they need to have each other. I couldn’t separate them and I couldn’t leave them at home either because my mums wouldn’t have the time to care for them properly.”
Kinley sat down next to Albus and one of the rats stretched towards him from her shoulder to sniff at his hair curiously.
“You have two mums?”, Scorpius asked perplexedly, “That’s so cool!”
Albus was starting to get the impression that Scorpius was easily excited.

For the next hours Albus looked out of the window while the rats were climbing around the compartment, sniffing and nibbling on everything they encountered. Scorpius and Kinley were chatting. Sometimes they’d involve him but most of the time he was only half-listening, getting lost in his thoughts, dreaming away. Soft waving hills and dark green forests passed outside. There were villages scattered across the countryside and a castle every now and then towering above them.
He thought of Hogwarts. Maybe, if he would get sorted into the same house as Kinley and Scorpius it wouldn’t be so bad. They both seemed very nice and so far hadn’t taken offense at his quietness. Albus swallowed and thought back to Wizard Playgroup and the Hogsprep Homeschool meetings he had been to as a child. He had always been the odd one out. It had made him feel as if something within him wasn’t right. And the other kids seemed to always pick up on it. He had usually either been left out or made fun of; increasingly the latter as he got older. The prospect of having to spend the most part of the next seven years in a place full of children and teenagers, having to sleep, eat, learn and study with them was horrifying to Albus. He didn’t know how it worked, how to know what to say when, how to present oneself in a way that made one likable, how to make friends as everybody told him he should. Albus glanced over at Kinley and Scorpius who were engaged in a vivid conversation. He felt jealous at how easily they seemed to be connecting, laughing together at something he had missed.

In that moment one of the rats dropped into his lap from the window frame and busily started sniffing about. Albus cautiously offered his hand and the rat gave an affectionate little bite to his middle finger, then climbed onto Albus’ palm.
“That’s Tekkie”, Kinley said from his side, “you can tell by her ripped ear.”
And indeed, Tekkie had a long rip in her left ear, parting it almost fully in two.
Albus slowly lifted Tekkie up until they were face to face. Tekkie leaned forward and nibbled at his nose. Albus laughed. He could feel a hesitant affection from her, a curious wish to know him more.
“I think she likes you”, Kinley stated and Albus nodded.
“They use their whiskers to understand the world around them.”, Kinley started explaining, “Their whiskers are probably more sensitive than human fingertips. And they show their emotions with their ears! When they are happy their ears become droopy and a bit pinker. When they're scared they fold them back. And rats are rodents and that means… Oh no!”
Kinley had clapped her hands over her mouth and Scorpius and Albus both looked around to see what had happened. But Kinley lifted her hands again and said to no-one in particular: “I’m nerding. Carrot told me not to nerd, it bores people.”
“Who’s Carrot?”, Scorpius asked eagerly, “Another rat? And I’m not bored, i think it's brilliant that you know so much about rats.”
“Thanks.”, Kinley said, sounding relieved, “I’m really into rodents recently, so I know a lot about them. And Carrot is not a rat." She chuckled. "They are my sibling!”
“Your sibling?”
“Yes, my older sibling, the one who was with me when I came to ask if I could sit with you. They are sitting with their friends in a different carriage.”
“Is.. Are..”, Scorpius looked puzzled, trying to find words, “Is Carrot your brother or your sister?”
“Neither.”, Kinley responded unfazed, “They are my sibling. They're gender-fluid.”
“Some people are both”, Albus heard himself say without knowing why he said it. The other two turned to look at him and he could feel his face going red.
“The wandmaker I went to was like this too”, he mumbled.
“Oh, you also went to Mx. Mirrymar and Shalky?”, Kinley asked excitedly, “They were fantastic, weren’t they? What’s your wand?”
“Willow and Mandrake Leaf”, Albus said shyly, pulling out his wand to show them. Scorpius leaned over so closely that he almost fell out of his seat.
“Mine is Black Walnut and Phoenix Feather”, he said and hopped onto his seat to rummage through his suitcase that he had stored in the overhead luggage compartment. Meanwhile Kinley traced the winding lines on Albus’ wand and whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

Then she pulled out her own wand that was sticking out of a side-pocket of her backpack and showed it to Albus. It was of an orange-tinged wood a shade darker than Albus’ wand, a bit shorter too and quite straight without any decorations.
“Ashwood”, Kinley said, “Wasn’t it magical to hear the tree speak to you?”
Albus nodded. There was a faint pain ringing in his ears when he touched Kinley’s wand but it was much less strong than with most, as if the pain was a mere echo from a long time ago. Still, he preferred not to know what was inside and didn’t pry when Kinley wasn’t offering the information by herself.
Scorpius in the meantime had gotten his wand down and was trying to perform spells with it now, to little success. Just when he had managed to shoot a single red spark from his wand that singed his left eyebrow someone slid the compartment door open and pushed their head inside.

It was Carrot - and Albus could see now why the name fit them so well. Their shiny green hair-knots poked out from their head like the greens of carrots growing in a field. Apart from that Carrot still looked much like Kinley, even from closer-up except that a thin black moustache was growing on their upper lip and that they had piercings sprinkled over their face and ears like little golden and silver stars.
“What’s up, little Mush?”, Carrot asked, “you alright down here?” and they stepped fully into view. Scorpius had stopped waving his wand around and was now gaping at their visitor open-mouthed. The clothes Carrot wore were nothing like anything Albus had ever seen people wear. Carrot was dressed in dark rags, everything ripped and torn, spikes poking out from their shiny black jacket and patches sewn on every visible piece of fabric. They showed little pictures, some of which were moving, or lettering that read “DOWN WITH WIZARD SUPREMACY” or “NO COPS, NO AURORS” or “BE CUTE, FIGHT EVIL”. Albus didn’t know what half of these things were supposed to mean but swallowed at the one about Aurors, knowing that his dad was one.
“I’m good”, Kinley answered now, “these are my new friends. This is Scorpius, he…“ - she clamped her hands over her mouth again and looked around at Albus and Scorpius wide-eyed.
“I didn’t ask you what your pronouns are!”, she exclaimed in terror.
“Our… what?”, Scorpius asked. Kinley’s eyes widened even more which made her look like a cartoon character. “You don’t know what pronouns are?”, she asked, baffled.
“Kin, they are wizard-kids, of course they don’t.”, Carrot chimed in and then turned to Scorpius, “Look, pronouns are the words you use to refer to people, like I, You, Him, Theirs… What Kinley means to ask is if you want to be referred to as “he” or “she” or “they” or something else.”
Scorpius still looked confused, but this time it was Albus who managed to form a question faster.
“So, one can just choose?”, he asked quickly, avoiding looking directly into Carrots fierce, intimidating eyes.
“Yeah.”, they answered and looked back curiously, “You can also try them out and change again when it doesn’t feel right. It’s no big deal, really.” They grinned at Albus encouragingly. “Who are you then?”, they asked.
Albus froze. “I… I’m Al”, he stuttered. There was a pause while he tried to calm his racing heartbeat. His ears were beginning to itch. “A-and I think I’d like to try out… being a they, maybe?”, Al whispered so quietly that it was barely audible. Still, Carrot seemed to have understood and nodded, their grin widening. “Nice to meet you, Al”, they said.
“And I’m Scorpius!”, Scorpius shot up, seemingly displeased with the attention being off him for so long, “I’m a he! I think your jacket is cracking!”
“Thanks”, Carrot said casually, “Quick tip from the Queer 101: say “I use he/him pronouns” instead of “I’m a he”. Sounds more sophisticated.” And turning to Kinley, they added: “So you’re alright here? Don't need anything?” and when Kinley nodded and gave a thumbs-up they lifted their hand to their head in a sort of salute and said, “Okay bye then, see y’all at Hogwarts. And good luck with the sorting!” And off they were, though Al thought they heard them chuckling from the corridor as they left.

After the visit their compartment became quieter. Simber, Tekkie and Mr. Bobinsky had settled down between Kinley and Al, huddling up together under the hem of Kinley’s dress and Al went back to looking out of the window while Scorpius bombarded Kinley with questions about Carrot. The sky outside had turned to a flame of red and orange and it was getting darker by the minute now. After a while Kinley got out a small muggle device from her backpack that showed moving images like a miniature picture frame and put a pair of purple earmuffs on her head that were made from a hard material that didn't look very comfortable to wear and were connected to the muggle device with a string. Kinley closed her eyes, and even Scorpius settled down a bit, looking out of the window too, still fidgeting until his head rolled against the window and he had fallen asleep.
These are my friends, Al thought. Kinley had said “these are my friends”. Their heart was still beating fast, and they couldn’t tell if it was the echo of the strange euphoric feeling that had flowed through them when they had chosen their new pronouns or if it was the realisation that they, Albus Potter, had actually made friends. And they hadn’t even arrived at Hogwarts yet!
For the first time in a long time Al felt as if it would be okay. Somehow the future that lay ahead was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Al and the other first years were standing huddled together in the large entrance hall, shivering. They had crossed the lake between the train station and Hogwarts in small boats, led by the groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. What could have been a romantic arrival, drifting across the calm lake towards the warm lights of the castle, had turned into a cold and wet nightmare. As soon as they had boarded the boats the heavy clouds that hung above them broke open and released a downpour so strong that they couldn’t see their hands before their eyes anymore. Everyone had been thoroughly soaked and frozen to the bone when they arrived at the foot of the hill.
So even after climbing hundreds of steps to make it up to the castle doors, the new Hogwarts arrivals were shaking like leaves.

The entrance hall was huge, with Paintings and tapestries decorating the walls and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. They had entered through a large gate and to their right a broad marble staircase led upwards.
From a richly ornamented double door to their left, a tall witch with chestnut skin, deep brown eyes and a sharp, beak-like nose was now entering, accompanied by a thousand voices chattering, which died away as the doors closed silently behind her again. She wore a pointed hat with a crooked tip and long, black robes that were adorned with blue and bronze decorations along the hemlines.

“Good evening first-years”, the tall witch said, looking out over them with stern but warm eyes, “I see you have been caught in a bit of a plight. Allow me to help you with that.” She did a quick, complicated wave with her wand and suddenly a cloud of hot air enveloped the shivering crowd. Steam rose from Al’s shoulders as their robes dried off within seconds. A comfortable warmth spread from their toes to their fingertips, and they could tell the same thing was happening to the others too from the pleased and relieved expressions on their faces.
The witch clapped her hands together and the hot air around them dissipated, leaving them warm and dry as if they had never been out in the rain at all.
“Well, then”, she said, “Welcome to Hogwarts! I am Professor Sinistra, your future Astronomy teacher and head of House Ravenclaw. I will accompany you through the sorting, so I advise you to follow my instructions precisely.”
“You will follow me through this door…” – Professor Sinistra pointed to where she had come from – “….in single file. We'll be entering the Great Hall where you will stay close behind me – no strolling, no shuffling please – to then line up facing the chair that will be standing in front of the teacher’s table. I am going to call your names in alphabetical order, and you’ll walk up to try on the hat that is placed on said chair. After your sorting, please proceed to your house table. Any questions?”
Many hands shot into the air.
“Excellent.”, Professor Sinistra looked unimpressed, “I’m sure you will find answers to them very soon.”

And with that she turned around and beckoned the first years to follow her. There was a moment of scrambling and shuffling before everyone had gotten into a single-file queue, nobody wanting to be at the front very much. Al ended up behind Kinley quite near the front, but Scorpius was washed away to the very end. He waved at Al from where he was standing, mouthed Slytherin and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Al nodded and tapped Kinley on the shoulder.
“Let’s try to get into Slytherin together”, they whispered.
“Slytherin?!”, Kinley whispered back, “What do you want to get into Slytherin for?”
But before Al could answer they had started moving and there was no more time for talking.

The Great Hall was as beautiful as their family had always described it, if not more. Thousands of candles were floating above them under a thundering night sky of tearing clouds and swells of rain that never reached them. The high stone walls were adorned with gigantic banners showing a silver serpent on dark green velvet, a black-and white badger on yellow, a bronze eagle framed in dark blue and a golden lion in front of a blood-red background.
The four long house tables were decked in their house colours respectively and laid with golden plates and drinking goblets, packed with hundreds of older students whose chatter died down to a whisper as they watched the first years enter. The lavish decorations shone brightly in the candlelight and Al had to fight the urge to jump in the air and cheer loudly from the wave of joy and excitement that flooded them from all around as they entered.
The line of new students walked past the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw house tables and came to a halt in front of a frighteningly ordinary chair, behind which the teacher’s table stretched out like a broad mahogany wall. On the chair lay a ragged, patched-up wizard’s hat.

When everyone had arrived and stood staring at the chair nervously, a long rip appeared in the hat, stretching this way and that until settling into what looked like a broad grin.
The hat shook its tip and cleared its throat. And then, with a scratchy voice like a rusty door hinge it started reciting a poem:

Welcome, Welcome!
Oh, how swellsome
‘Tis to see you here
Young eager mind
All set to find
Wisdom touch your ear

Houses, Houses!
For robes and blouses
Of students I need to sort
For friends to keep
And restful sleep
Which one will be your port?

Gryffindor, Gryffindor!
What are you snifflin’ for?
Here rest the brave and the strong
If you’re of passion
In courage’s fashion
This is where you will belong

Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff!
Workers go huff ‘n puff
Comrades of humans and plants
Good loyal souls
With reachable goals
Will come here to join wit and hands

Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw!
This path is paven for
You who has knowledge and skill
Be studious
And don’t think it dubious
If your friends be books and a quill

Slytherin, Slytherin!
Ones who will hither spin
Are allies of power and strive
You of cunning
And brilliance so stunning
In this house will certainly thrive

Bold hat, Bold hat!
Now I’m just an old bat
I’ve been told to chatter I’m prone
So let’s not get fleecy there
Put me on your greasy hair
And find your true Hogwarts home

When the hat finished everyone in the Great Hall broke into a thundering applause that rang in Al's sensitive ears. Having been so focused on the hat's poem, Al only now took in the teachers seated in a long row before them. Many of them were dressed festively for the occasion with richly ornamented robes, bejeweled hands and necks and feathers fastened to their hats. Horrified, Al realized that one of the teachers, who wore a monocle and had a perfectly triangular beard, was unmistakably Mr. Nott from the wand store they had been to. Mr. Nott caught Al staring and raised a bemused eyebrow. Al looked down ashamed.

When the applause and chatter had died down Professor Sinistra unrolled a long parchment.
“Abbott, Juliana”, she called and a short girl with long black hair and a sandy complexion walked forward confidently, lifted the hat from the chair and pulled it over her head. Before she could even sit down the hat shouted:
“HUFFLEPUFF” and she strode over to her new house table with a satisfied grin.
“Brennan, Fiadh”
This time the hat took longer. Minutes were passing and the pink-skinned blond girl underneath it squirmed uncomfortably on the chair.
“RAVENCLAW”, the hat finally boomed, and Fiadh jumped up and almost ran over to the Ravenclaw table where she was greeted with cheers and handshakes.

While more names were called and student after student walked up to the chair to put on the sorting hat, Al’s gaze wandered to the banners again. The animals on them seemed almost alive, as if they could jump out from their colourful backgrounds at any moment. Al made eye contact with the silver serpent. She seemed to be looking right through them, judging them.
Slytherin, huh? a small hissing voice said in their head. What do you want to get into Slytherin for?
How would you fit in there? Think they’ll like you? That they won’t find you strange?
Albus thought of Scorpius and Kinley and how nice it would be to sit together with them in a common room, hearing their chatter, doing homework together, playing games...
Ah, so you think you have friends already? The voice in their head mocked. Was it the serpent or was it their own? They won’t stay, Albus. They don’t know you yet. They don’t know how fragile and needy you are. How you have to get special attention for everything. Think they’ll still like you after hearing you cry for you mummy every night?
Al wanted to cover their ears but knew it would be pointless.

In this moment they felt someone grab their hand hard. It was Kinley. Her eyes were not directed at Albus though. She was still staring at the chair from which a very small brown-haired boy was now scuttling towards the Gryffindor table, his face very pale and a bit greenish.
“It’s my turn”, Kinley whispered, not moving her gaze away from the chair.
“Macdonald, Kinley”, Professor Sinistra called, and Kinley gave Al’s hand another squeeze and walked resolutely up to the chair. She sat down and pulled the big hat over her ears firmly.
It took only a few seconds until the hat shouted: “RAVENCLAW” and Kinley pulled it off again, looking relieved and hurried over to the table of blue-clad students who were cheering and applauding, offering her a seat next to the blond-haired girl.
Al swallowed. Should they try to get into Ravenclaw then?
“Malfoy, Scorpius”
Scorpius walked to the front very quickly, his steps bouncing and his arms flapping. Someone giggled.
With Scorpius the hat took its time again, seemingly debating with him. Al could see Scorpius’ mouth move in a whisper, just barely visible under the large, patched hem.
And then, finally: “SLYTHERIN” the hat called out.
Scorpius grinned broadly as he slid the hat off and laid it back on the chair. He grinned over at Al, giving them a thumbs up before hurrying over towards the cheers and hoots of his new housemates.
“Nott, Symphonia”, Professor Sinistra called and a very tall girl, who had something of a ghost, her skin almost see-through and her long shimmering hair white as snow, strode forward.
“SLYTHERIN”
“O’Cleary, Khanyisa”
“SLYTHERIN”
“O’Cleary, Aina”
“SLYTHERIN”
Al wondered if there was a limit to how many children could be sorted into one house and if maybe Slytherin was already full by now.

And then, after “Pişkin, Tarik” (Gryffindor) Professor Sinistra called out:
“Potter, Albus Severus”
Al didn’t even cringe at the mention of their second name, too strong was the feeling of panic that rose in them. With wobbly knees they made their way to the front. The hat looked even shabbier from close up and smelled like old leather and dust. Al was starting to get a headache.
But they made it to sit down. They lifted the hat above their head and were about to put it on when it shouted: “HUFFLEPUFF” before it had even touched a hair on Al’s head. Albus was taken aback. The way their dad and James had told the story the hat would listen to Al’s thoughts, and they’d have a say in where they went.
But apparently it had been a very clear choice.

Some students started laughing and Al realized that they were still sitting on the chair, holding the hat above their head. Their ears grew red, and they hurriedly put the hat back and scrambled over to the table where the Hufflepuffs were cheering, extending hands to shake and patting them on the back.

Al sat down next to a tan, red-haired boy who was quite muscular for an eleven-year-old. He must have been sorted while Al was zoning out. The boy clapped Al on the back a bit too hard and said in a very loud voice: “Why so severe, Severus? We’re all nice here, don’t worry.”
The other Hufflepuffs smiled at Al, so they smiled back, trying to look friendly and self-assured.
“I’m Josh”, the muscular boy said now, “and this is Mohammed. He’s in our year too.”
From behind the broad frame of Josh the face of a lanky boy with big dark eyes and messy black hair peered out. He looked as shy as Albus felt and blinked twice in a nervous manner. “Hi”, he squeaked in a high-pitched voice and gave an awkward little wave.

Right then another surge of cheers erupted around them as a square-faced brown boy with glasses was sorted into Hufflepuff. He wore his dark hair in a side parting and walked slightly bow-legged.
“Hi I’m Josh!” Josh called out upon the arrival of the newbie and shook his hand so hard that Al feared the boy’s arm would fall off, “These are Mohammed and Severus. And these are the girls”.
Al looked up surprisedly at “the girls” that they only noticed now sitting opposite of them. Three of them had been so immersed in conversation that it had seemed to Al they couldn’t be first years, seeming to be so comfortable already and talking as if they had been friends forever. The fourth one was Juliana Abbott who had been sorted first and was currently chatting with an older boy to her left.

When the three other girls looked up at their mention, Al was startled. They looked extremely similar. They all had the same porcelain complexion, pointy nose, thin lips and piercing blue eyes.
“I’m Amber”, the first of them introduced herself. She had her brown hair tied back in a ponytail and glittering silver stars were shining on her earlobes.
“I’m Ashley”, the second one said, who wore her hair short and bleached and had painted her lashes so that they protruded thin and black like small daggers from her face. Her thin lips were drawn into a pout and she raised an eyebrow at Al daringly, so they quickly lowered their eyes, their ears itching hotly.
“And I’m Ava”, added the third one, smiling around warmly. Two long braided plaits hung down to her chest and she had her ears pierced too: three tiny, colourful dice dangling under each earlobe, wobbling whenever she moved her head, which was quite frequently. Al sensed that she had a similar restlessness to Scorpius’ which made her likable to them.
“Why do you all look the same?”, it burst out of the new boy who had a voice that sounded like it had swallowed itself.
From the edge of their field of vision Al could see Ashley roll her eyes and cross her arms but Amber answered in a friendly tone: “We’re identical triplets.” And she shrugged somewhat apologetically.
“What’s your name again?”, Ava asked, “Sorry, I wasn’t following.”
“Rafiq Sheikh”, the boy said.
“Rafiq and Shafiq!”, Josh almost shouted and pulled Rafiq and Mohammed into a double headlock, “That’s so funny!”
“Dexter-Shafiq”, Mohammed murmured but Josh didn’t seem to have heard him. He let go and gestured Rafiq to sit down next to him, making Albus scoot over to the edge of the wooden bench.
Al could feel the discomfort of the two smaller boys but saw them laughing as if they too found it extremely funny that they had similar names.

Amber, Ashley and Ava had turned back to their conversation which gave Al a strange little sting. Maybe they would have wanted to join the girl’s conversation a little more than to sit with the boys. Josh had started talking loudly about the last Quidditch league match and Mohammed and Rafiq were nodding along, trying to join in with opinions of their own here and there, but mostly agreeing with whatever Josh said.
Al had never been much into quidditch. They didn’t understand the appeal of watching seven tiny figures buzz around the sky like overgrown hornets and they thought the rules were unfair. The whole team was only worth half as much as the one seeker according to the point system.

They directed their attention back to the sorting ceremony. The last person to be called was “Yen, Linh” and had just been sorted into Ravenclaw where she sat down next to Kinley who was already deep in conversation with someone. Behind their table James and his friends were laughing hard about something. And on the other side of the hall, Scorpius was gesturing wildly to some chuckling Slytherin girls. Everyone seemed to be happy and making friends.

But before Al could get too absorbed by the feeling of loneliness that was threateningly rising in their chest, two very loud claps rang out through the hall. All conversation died down immediately and everyone’s heads turned to the teacher’s table. In the middle of it a tall witch stood and held here hands apart. She smiled, yet looked tired, a few early crinkles lining her face and blond tightly combed-back hair shining out from under her pointed witch’s hat. Her burgundy robes were neatly trimmed with golden lace and matched her glossy lipstick. Standing out from her pale white skin blue eyes shimmered, framed with a thin black eyeliner.
Albus knew this witch not only as the headmistress of Hogwarts but also as an acquaintance of their parents.
Professor Rowntree brought her hands back together solemnly and let her gaze drift slowly over the assembled students.
Then she said: “I supposed you are all quite hungry, so let’s not waste time with idle chatter. I will have you know that the Forbidden Forest remains forbidden, as you may understand by its name. The mischief makers among you should take note that we have increased patrols of the castle at night by the prefects and staff. You are not to leave your dorms at night. And breaking school rules will have serious consequences.” Al could have sworn that the headmistress was looking straight at their brother James who whispered something to his friends that made them chuckle.
“I do hope we will all have a calm and educational school year.”, she concluded, shooting one last stern look out of here boxed-in eyes, then a smile softened her face, and she called out: “Now let the feast begin!”

And at these words Professor Rowntree sat back down and suddenly all the tables filled with food. Big Pots and large bowls and trays laden wish elaborate dishes and fruit and cakes appeared next to jugs of pumpkin juice, water and hot chocolate. Everyone grabbed their utensils and started eating like starving wolves, shining eyes and stuffed cheeks.
Ashley, the middle triplet with the short hair, paused with her fork in hand and gave Albus a critical look. “Are you okay?”, she asked, frowning again and the other first years turned to look at Al.
Their face had become so pale that you could almost see through it, and they were pressing their hands to their mouth. Before anyone could do anything else, Al scrambled to get to their feet, stumbled against the table and – a gigantic gush of vomit erupted from their mouth, drowning the cherry tart in front of them and sprinkling everyone’s plates with bile.

Al was laying in their new bed in a small circular room with a low ceiling held by strong wooden beams. Four oval, cave-like bunks were set into the walls, framed in the same rough wood as the paneling that covered half of the bright masonry. Plants were hanging or standing around and stretched their leaves lazily towards the three round windows peeking out over a grassy landscape, just at the height of the ground outside. The room was quite cozy, laid with a fluffy yellow carpet and two worn armchairs next to a small wooden table.

But Al wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings. They were replaying the events of the evening in their head again and again, staring at the rough planks above them.
After they had gotten sick over their new housemates’ plates they had been brought to the hospital wing by Professor Sinistra where an ancient witch and her younger apprentice had fussed over them as if they were sick. They had tried to explain that they weren’t sick, or that yes, they were but that it wasn’t a big deal. That they had the medication for it.
It was all so embarrassing.
The looks of shock and disgust on the other Hufflepuffs' faces. How three teachers had come down to clean up the mess and bring Al away. How everyone – everyone – in the Great Hall had craned their necks to see little Albus Potter who had thrown up over the welcoming feast.

And through all this, Al could have known. They could have known from the beginning that they wouldn’t make it through the feast. They could have gone to the toilet or asked to be excused or better even, already at home have asked their parents to write to the school about it.
But they hadn’t expected it to be this bad. At family dinners they’d get nauseous or headachy, but they had never gotten sick from just seeing food. Maybe it had been the sheer amount of it. Maybe it had been the huge dish of pickled porkchop right behind the creme-laden cherry tart. Or the shredded haggis on the girls’ side.
Whatever it had been, Al could have known and prevented it.
Now they would never make friends in their house, and it was all their own fault.

The large round door to the room opened with a squeak and Albus quickly drew the thin white curtains in front of their bed. Laughing and chattering, Josh, Mohammed and Rafiq entered. When they spotted the closed curtains, they lowered their voices to a whisper. Al could tell that they were talking about them. Josh said something to the others in a low voice, and they broke into a fit of giggles.
Then they scurried and rustled around, choosing their bunks, rummaging through their suitcases, entering and leaving the room through a smaller hatch that led to the dorm’s bathroom. All the while they were still chatting and chuckling. With them had come the smell of the feast and Al felt a slight nausea rise in their insides again.

They had gotten food from the school nurse and her apprentice after assuring the two that they felt fine enough to eat and that they were very hungry but that they preferred to eat vegetables only.
“Ah, a vegan...”, Madam Pomfrey, the ancient witch, had tutted disapprovingly, “I’ll see what I can find.”
“Don’t mind her.”, the younger one who was called Mrs. Abbott had whispered to Albus, “She needs to get with the modern times. I’m vegan too!”
And Al had felt slightly comforted, although they had no idea what a “vegan” was.
Now they could feel the dish of green beans and potatoes that they had gotten from Madam Pomfrey stir uncomfortably in their stomach. They held their nose and hoped it would fade away.

The boys took an eternity to go to bed, but finally Al could hear their breathing become more even and when Rafiq started to snore loudly, they silently slid open their curtains and snuck out of the room.
From the round door, three steps led down into a torchlit corridor lined with more dorm entrances in both directions. Al turned to the left and soon the corridor ended in a large oval-shaped room, decorated much like the dormitory.

Ferns and vines were growing from pots that were hanging from the low wooden ceiling, mounted to the sandstone walls, and standing between the comfortable looking worn-out couches, armchairs and cushions that were spread throughout the room. Large bright carpets with flowery, spring-themed patterns covered the floor.
At one end of the room stood a large table, surrounded by wooden chairs and benches, still cluttered with books, quills and parchment from some students’ learning session, and at the other end a warm fire was crackling merrily in a big, half-moon shaped fireplace. Through the windows that were set into the wall just below the ceiling a raging night sky was visible above the lawn, and rain was still washing against the glass.

Al didn’t really know what to do with themselves. They leafed through one of the books on the table, engaged the plants in some light whispered conversation and poked around in the fireplace with the tongs that were hanging next to it. While they were doing that, suddenly a small creature leapt up from the burning logs and stared at Albus with coal-black beady eyes. The furry little figure was about the size of Al’s forearm and looked much like a ferret, except that they were still standing on a burning log in a crackling fire and didn’t seem to mind that at all. Al sensed that they had startled them, a cautious suspiciousness glimmering in their eyes.
But before Al could apologize or do much else, the creature jumped out of the fireplace and sped past Al to the entrance of the common room, which was a barrel you had to crawl through, that now swung its lid open willingly.
“Wait!”, Al called out, “Your tail! It’s still burning!”
The ferret hopped into the barrel and out of sight. Without a second thought, Al jumped to their feet and ran after the little creature, crawling through the barrel and tumbling out on the other side. They were just in time to see the small red flame that engulfed the ferret’s tail vanish around a corner. Al sprinted after them, but the ferret was fast. The light of the flame always already rounded the next corner when Al arrived to the last one. They were running through dark and moist corridors, left and right and up and down and then up, up, up a long and winding staircase that drained all the air out of Albus’ lungs until finally they stumbled into a high-ceilinged corridor and – the ferret was gone.

Al looked this way and that, panting. No ferret in sight, neither a flame nor a scorch mark anywhere to be found. Left and right doors led to classrooms and Al wished they had taken the map with them that they had found on their pillow in the Hufflepuff dormitory. Wrapped up in their own pain they hadn’t taken the time to study the map at all and now they had no idea where they were.
Al got nervous, remembering that it was strictly forbidden to be outside of the common rooms at night.
I’ll just go back the way I came, they thought and turned around to walk back down the spiral staircase. But there was no staircase. In the place where it had opened into the corridor was a solid stone wall, hung with the painting of a witch who was sitting at a table, sleeping on her propped-up arm. Carefully, Albus stepped towards the painting and pressed a finger to it, to see if it was a walkthrough painting that they hadn’t noticed when they had run up the stairs.
The witch, whose nose they had pressed in this effort, jumped up and started scolding them loudly, fastening the needles in her hijab and looking down angrily at Al.
Afraid that the noise would attract someone, Al snuck away from the panting as fast as they could.

They walked along corridors and halls, along suits of armour that turned their heads squeakily after them, and paintings that eyed them curiously, or cursed them out for waking them up. The goal was to find a way down, knowing that the Hufflepuff common room was in the basement next to the kitchens but for some reason all the stairs they found led upwards or turned around once Al stepped onto them.
They had to hide from the patrols twice, once in an empty classroom and once in a broom cupboard. When they heard footsteps approaching them for the third time, the only way out was a narrow staircase that wound upwards into one of the towers.
As quietly as they could, Al snuck up the steps, noticing with horror that whoever was walking behind them had chosen to go the same way. There was no light in the staircase except for a faint shimmer coming through the woven tapestries that were hung every few meters, showing stitches of solar systems and star constellations. Al was holding on to the wall to not trip in the darkness when suddenly their hand fell through the wall. They gave a yelp of surprise as they stumbled into one of the tapestries and heard the footsteps below halt for a second – to then start again, picking up speed.
“Psst!”, a hand grabbed theirs and pulled them up and behind the tapestry. Al found themselves in a small oriel that was looking out over the castle grounds from high, high above. In front of them, pressed up against the stone stood nobody else than Scorpius Malfoy, his ghostly white face inches from Albus’. Scorpius held a finger to his lips and they both remained frozen while the footsteps outside the tapestry thundered first towards, then past it, and finally faded away above them somewhere. Only then did Scorpius take the finger from his lips and grinned.
“Hi. Can’t sleep either?”

Chapter Text

Al was woken up after very few hours of sleep the next morning to the sound of the boys hitting each other with twisted up towels, screeching and snickering. Al waited until the fight had stopped and the laughter of Josh, Mohammed and Rafiq faded away in the corridor before they pulled back their curtain and slowly got out of bed.
The exhaustion was heavy within their body, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, rather a warm and grounding kind of tiredness. They crawled through the bathroom hatch, brushed their teeth over the metal washbasin and looked out at the thin rays of sunshine that had broken through the rainclouds in some places. Small rainbows were hovering in the air, shifting and fading like illusions, refusing to be grasped.
When Al crawled back into the dormitory to get dressed, their bed suddenly looked extremely soft and cozy.
The Hogwarts Express always left London on the First of September and the day after that was usually when classes began. But in 2017, the year Al started school, the Second of September was a Saturday, a whole weekend lying empty before the students of Hogwarts, where they could do whatever they wanted. In Al's case what they wanted to do was sleep some more, so they decided to crawl back under the covers for just a few more minutes.

Sinking into the softness of the clean sheets, Al thought back to the night before. After meeting Scorpius in the tower oriel, the two of them had snuck down the stairs before whoever had gone up could come back. Scorpius, unlike Al, had brought his map which was already littered with chaotic, tiny notes, written in an elegant cursive. With this they had been able to find out where they were and decided to explore the castle some more before going back to their common rooms. Al didn't ask why Scorpius hadn't been able to sleep and Scorpius returned the favour. He also didn't mention the incident at the feast and Al felt a silent gratefulness for that.

First they had set out to find the statue of the one-eyed witch that hid a secret passageway to the sweetshop Honey Dukes in the nearby town Hogsmeade. Al knew about it from the tales of Harry, Ron and Hermione. But when they had finally managed to find it in a nook on a third-floor corridor and Al tapped it with their wand, whispering “Dissendium”, nothing happened. The hunch of the witch didn't open. Instead writing in silver letters appeared on it that read:

Go back to bed.

And then the statue had slowly turned and pointed at them with her long bony index finger before starting to shriek “STUDENTS OUT OF BOUNDS – STUDENTS OUT OF BOUNDS” with a high piercing voice that echoed from the castle walls thousandfold. Al and Scorpius ran for their lives, the stone finger of the witch following them.
Panting and giggling they found refuge in an empty classroom. After listening closely for a while, confirming that no-one had come after them they continued their tour of discovery, more careful this time.
When they finally got tired and went back to the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room, Al realized that they had forgotten which barrel it was that they had to tap. It had to be either the middle barrel, two from the left in the bottom row or the barrel two from the bottom in the middle of the second row. Scorpius volunteered to go first, tapped: long-long short-short-short (Hel-ga Huff-le-puff) at Albus' instructions and got drenched in vinegar for having caught the wrong one. He shrugged it off laughing, saying he would change into pyjamas anyway as soon as he was back in his common rom.
When Al tried, they got the right one and the lid swung open to let them inside.
Before crawling into the barrel they waved at Scorpius and had to suppress a laugh when Scorpius shook his thin hair like a dog, spraying the basement walls with vinegar.

When Al woke up for the second time it was almost noon. They got dressed and left the dormitory.

The weather had softened, but a light drizzle continued to fall from the drawn sky and the grounds were still soaked and muddy from the night’s storm. Most students therefore decided to stay inside and as a result of this the common room was crammed. Every seat and cushion was taken and happy chatter filled the room. Al spotted Josh and Mohammed immersed in a fiery match of exploding snap while Rafiq was sitting in a corner squinting over his copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration. Amber and Ava were chatting with some third years near the fireplace and Juliana Abbott sat cross-legged on one of the cushions in front of a propped-up hand mirror and was trying a braiding-spell on her hair (It didn't seem to be going well. Currently strands of hair all over her head were wrestling each other and Juliana was waving her wand around frantically, trying to stop them). Only Ashley didn’t seem to be around.

Al tried to cross the room without anybody noticing them, which was a hopeless endeavour, the room being as packed as it was and the only way to the other side leading right through the middle.
“Hey, Albus!”, Ava waved at them after they had made only three steps, “Are you feeling better?”
Al felt their face going red and their ears started to itch immediately. It always got worse towards the end of the week when they hadn't taken their medication in a while.
They nodded vaguely in Ava's direction and hurried on, but Josh had already spotted them and jumped up to give Al a bone breaking clap on the back.
“Severus!”, he boomed so that the whole common room turned their heads toward them. “How’s it going? Did you have time to digest yesterday’s events?” and he elbowed Al a bit too hard in the ribs, grinning around. A few students chuckled. Albus didn’t say anything, only became even redder in the face.
“Hey, don't take it personal”, Josh went on, “I’m just joking! It was not a big deal...Although it was a big amount, got to hand it to you!”. More people were laughing. Al’s ears were itching so badly now that it felt like a colony of ants had decided to make a home in them.

“Whoa!”, Josh exclaimed, staring at Al. There was a horrible second of silence in which Al and Josh understood simultaneously what had happened. “Is that fur on your ears, mate?”
Al unfroze. They covered their ears in terror and stumbled towards the exit, diving in headfirst and crawling as fast as possible through the barrel, to the sound of laughter and whispering.

They sprinted through the corridors to the first bathroom they could find, slipped inside and slammed the stall door behind them a little too hard, a bang echoing from the tiled walls.
Al sat down on a toilet seat, trying to calm themselves, focusing on their breathing as they had been taught. It was no big deal. They could tell everyone that Josh had imagined it. That Josh must have confused Al's extremely normal hair with ear hair.
Breath in, breath out. Al counted their breaths.
Or that they had fallen for a practical joke. Yes - they had simply eaten an enchanted toffee earlier and it had made their ears grow fur. Temporarily. A silly prank! Could have happened to anyone.

At the thought of toffee, Al’s stomach gave a low rumble. They touched their ears cautiously and were relieved to find them smooth and non-hairy again. Al took five more deep breaths, then got up and left the toilet stall – only to realize that they weren’t alone. Ashley was standing at the sink. Their eyes met in the mirror, and she whirled around.

“What are you doing here?”, she spat, “This is the girls’ loo.” Her face was red, and it looked as if she had cried. Al ducked their head and muttered an apology, making to leave. “Never mind”, she said, folding her arms, “I don’t care. You… you didn’t hear anything, did you?”. Al shook their head truthfully. Ashley still stared at them with narrow eyes. Then her expression faltered and suddenly she looked very small and vulnerable.
“I didn’t want to be in Hufflepuff.” she said in a low voice and her stare was now asking something of Al, yet they didn’t know what exactly. They could feel Ashley’s sadness echo in their body.
“Me neither.”, they answered, not knowing why, or what that should help her, or if they would have wanted to be in any other house for that matter.
Ashley gave a small shrug, acknowledging this.
“I’m my own person, you know?”, she continued, and Al nodded, even though they didn’t fully understand what she meant, “I wanted to be in Ravenclaw. Maybe even Gryffindor, for all I care. Just not the same house as…”, she pressed her hands to her face and started to cry.
"I'm not... I didn't mean...", she sobbed, "You know, that I love them, I just... don't want to be treated like a copy all the time, you know?"
Al wasn't sure if Ashley was still speaking to them, so they just stood there awkwardly until Ashley lifted the hands off her face and looked at Al', the question in her eyes burning stronger than ever. Al felt like they should say something now, but they didn't know what. They gave a sort of helpless shrug. At this, Ashley scoffed, letting out a short, unhappy laugh and turned to the mirror again, her expression switching back to a tight-lipped frown.
“You can leave now.”, she said, in a disconcertingly casual tone, wiping away smudged mascara from under her eyes in the mirror.
When Al didn’t move, she turned around and lifted one dark eyebrow that stood out against her pale face.
“Shush!”, she waved her hands in an impatient gesture, “And if you tell anybody about this, I’ll hex you bald.”

After this strange encounter, Al roamed the castle for a while, as it wasn't lunchtime yet, until they decided to write to their parents as they had promised. They went to the library first, to borrow a quill and some parchment, not feeling keen on going back to the common room to get their own.

The library was very empty and very quiet. Few students fancied studying before the year had even begun, apparently. Only a handful of older students sat around a table, brooding over some thick volumes.
The young pointy-nosed librarian, who could have been a student himself, was quite friendly, gave Al all they needed and showed them to an empty table under one of the big stained-glass windows.

Al sat down and wrote:

Dear mum and dad,
I arrived well.

Then they stopped and chewed on the end of the quill. What else could they write?
I love it here? But they didn’t, did they?
Al knew they had to tell their parents about the incident at the feast before they found out some other way, but they didn’t want them to worry. Mentioning Josh seemed whiny and mentioning Ashley invasive. The nightly adventure with Scorpius? Ginny would worry and scold them for leaving the dorm at night, though Harry would probably be entertained. But Al also knew that even though their parents tried not to be, they were prejudiced towards Scorpius because he was the son of Draco Malfoy.

In the end the letter read:

Dear mum and dad,
I arrived well. Got sick during the welcoming feast, but it was no big deal. Probably because of the long journey. Madam Pomfrey gave me food and I’m feeling fine today. You don't need to worry.
I hope you are doing well,
Albus

p.s: I’ve been sorted into Hufflepuff. Hope you don’t mind. I know you wanted me to be a Gryffindor. The common room is nice.

And rembering the goodbyes at platform 9 3/4 they wrote another one to Lily, saying:

Hi Lily!
How is home as an only child? Is mum constantly fussing about you now?
I haven’t really seen James yet, he’s always with his lads. And in a different house.
I’m in Hufflepuff. The hat was really quick, I didn’t get a say. So that can happen too, just so you know.
Hogwarts is gigantic, I’m trying to explore it. I think you’ll like it here, lots of paintings and stuff.
I saw a fire ferret! Its tail was burning. I don’t know if it was supposed to be, maybe.
My friends Some people call me Al now. And I met someone who is gender-fluid. I think it’s a muggle thing. But they’re really cool.
Al

Then Albus walked all the way up to the owlery. Their parents hadn’t gotten them an owl, because Al hated pet stores, but they had told them to use James’ owl Penny.
Penny was a large brown tawny owl that blinked at Al sleepily from her ink-black eyes when they arrived and offered her a treat. The two of them had always gotten along well, especially because Al would feed Penny when James forgot (which happened quite frequently) and let her out of her cage when they sensed her frustration. James always got angry when Al did that, saying it was his owl and Al should stay out of it, but they couldn’t bring themselves to stop. It was just not fair that Penny had to suffer because of James’ forgetfulness, when it didn't have to be that way.
Now, after asking if she could deliver a letter for them, and Penny giving a dignified nod, Al tied the two pieces of parchment to her leg and she flew off, her large wings stroking the air without a sound.

Having no better idea what to do, Al went to the hospital wing again when the school bell announced lunchtime. Madam Pomfrey tutted disapprovingly once more and muttered that she was a nurse, not a cook but still proceeded to get Al an overspilling plate of rice and lentils with a delicious mushroom sauce and a green salad on the side.
“You’ll have to find another solution in the future, Mr. Potter”, she stated firmly when Al had eaten up and thanked her, "Just because your father spent half of his time at Hogwarts in the hospital wing, you shouldn't too. And I have better things to do than cooking food for sensitive stomachs."
Al nodded sheepishly, their cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
"How about you ask at the kitchens?", Mrs. Abbott suggested who was walking in with a basket full of fresh bedsheets in that moment, "You're a Hufflepuff, aren't you? You're living right next to the source! I used to always go and ask the elves for sweets when I was your age."
Al hopped off the bed and nodded again, making for the exit.
"You have to tickle the pear", she added and winked, just as Al slid out of the door.

Al spent the rest of the day roaming around the grounds. There was still a light drizzle falling from the grey sky and it was quite cold, so nobody else was outside. Once, they spotted Hagrid, the groundskeeper carrying a large amount of firewood up to the castle but avoided being seen by him. Hagrid was a very friendly half-giant, about twice the size of an average man who was good friends with Al's mum and dad. But Hagrid usually wore clothes that made Al's ears ring and gave them a brain splitting headache. He also was quite loud and if Al was being honest, they found Hagrid a bit scary after a few butterbeers, and when he came over, there were always more than just a few butterbeers to be had by all the adults.
So Al kept out of sight and stayed alone, taking in the view over the lake and the dark woods that stretched out in all directions. They paid a visit to the Quidditch field, watched the whomping willow flail its branches at a bird that seemed to be getting a kick out of teasing the tree and peered through the windows of the greenhouses, but couldn't make out anything because the glass was misty from the high humidity inside.

Only when Al found themselves wandering near the edge of the forbidden forest, they spotted a group of students crouching under large umbrellas just beneath the first trees. Each one of them was looking down at something in their hands and none of them were speaking, except when they showed each other the things in their hands from time to time. Al squinted, trying to make out what the mystery objects were when Kinley appeared from under one of the umbrellas and waved at Al.
She held the muggle device in her hand that she had used on the train already. Now Al could see that everybody else was looking at the same sort of thing, some black, some grey, some wrapped in colourful rubber cases.
"Hi, Al", Kinley greeted them when they walked over to her, "What are you doing out here?"
Al shrugged and mumbled: "Wandering around", realizing how stupid that must sound.
Kinley didn't seem to take notice.
"We're here for the reception", she gestured at the students crouching on the ground, some of whom looked up to smile at Al briefly before returning to their moving picture devices.
Before Albus had decided if they should ask Kinley what she meant by that or pretend that they knew what kind of reception this was, another head poked out from the nearest umbrella, bright green hair tied into shiny knots.
"Hey, Kin, did you see that... Oh, hi. Al, right?", Carrot asked.
Al nodded shyly. Even with a friendly smile on their face, Carrot still looked way too cool to not be intimidating.
"I was just telling Al about how we have to come out here to use our phones, because of the spells on the castle, that make muggle technology useless", Kinley explained.
"Yeah, it's crap.", Carrot sighed. "I don't get why they can't make at least one tech zone or something. Came here to join us, Al?", they added. Al shook their head.
"I don't have a phone", they whispered and had to repeat it when neither of the siblings understood them through the sound of raindrops hitting umbrellas.
"Of course you don't.", Carrot grinned, "You don't know what you're missing out on." They said it in a way that could have been sarcastic or not.
"Mushroom, come on, you've got to see this!"
Kinley smiled vaguely in Al's direction and crawled back under the umbrella to look at Carrot's "phone".
Al stood around awkwardly for a moment, then slowly walked back to the castle.

When dinnertime came around, Al decided to heed Mrs. Abbott's advice and went to find the kitchens. It wasn't very hard, Al just had to follow the strong smell of frying oil, melted chocolate and spices and was led to a painting in a corridor very near the Hufflepuff common room entrance. The painting showed a large fruit bowl, each perfectly arranged fruit shining as if it had been polished to perfection. There was one large green pear positioned quite in the middle underneath a fluffy peach and a cluster of grapes.

Following what Mrs. Abbott had said Al reached out and hesitantly tickled the pear. They remembered the witch from last night whom they had poked on the nose and took a step back from the painting, just in case. But the pear only shook and giggled, in a high-pitched, childlike voice and the painting swung to the side. Behind it was a sort of round opening in the wall at the height of Al's hips that could have served as a tunnel for a very small and slim person. But Al wasn't a very slim person and didn't dare to try climbing through, imagining the horrible scene of their housemates finding them stuck halfway in the wall, their short legs kicking air.
The smell they had followed intensified, now mixed with that of exhaustion, happiness and... anger?

Al knelt and tried to peer through the hole but could only make out a stone wall behind it and a shimmer of light coming from the left. They were about to pull back and look for another way, when a small bald head appeared right in front of theirs. Al' jumped and hit their head on the stones.
"Ouch!", they exclaimed.
The creature that had appeared immediately started apologizing profusely in an extremely high-pitched voice, reminding Al of a mouse in a trap.
"I is terribly sorry, miss. It is not Wonky's intention to scare the young mistress, please. I is terribly, terribly sorry.", they squeaked.
Al rubbed their head and looked at them again, ignoring the jumpy feeling in their chest at being called "miss". The creature was unmistakably a house elf, with greenish skin and long pointy ears out of which grew some dark, bristly hairs. A short, stubby nose protruded from underneath large eyes that looked like pebbles lying in shallow water, grey and glittering. One was bigger than the other, which gave them a sort of dopey expression.
"It's okay", Al said to the elf who was still muttering apologies and had started to pluck hairs from their ears desperately, "I'm fine, really."
The elf sighed in relief and made a little bow but still apologized three more times before asking:
"What can Wonky do for the young mistress?"
"Your name is Wonky?", Albus asked surprisedly, "Did your parents give you that name?"
Then, realizing how rude and intruding the question was, embarrassment rushed their face. But Wonky didn't seem to be bothered.
"No, young mistress. Wonky doesn't know any parents. Wonky got the name from Wonky's old master. It is because Wonky has a bad eye, young miss." And they pointed to the bigger of their two eyes.
Al nodded and didn't know what else to say. They had almost forgotten why they had come, but then a grumbling noise from their stomach reminded them.

"I was wondering...", they mumbled, feeling suddenly that it was very selfish to come down here and ask for special portions, "...I was wondering if you had any leftovers that don't contain... That don't have any meat or cheese in them. Or eggs. Or milk... Or fish?" The longer they spoke, the more the feeling of dread in their intestines solidified. "If... If it's no trouble, of course." Their voice had dropped to almost a whisper but Wonky just nodded eagerly, their ears flapping back and forth.
"Oh, yes, surely young miss. The young miss is an enocrea, Wonky understands, miss. It is a noble quality in a witch or wizard. Wonky will be back in a second.", and they bowed very deeply before scuttling off towards where the light was coming from.

It was really barely more than a few seconds until their small green head appeared in the hole again. In front of their short nose, they were holding a plate that was so large that it barely fit when they tried to push it through the opening. It was heaped with fried potatoes and spiced eggplant, a tomato salad, pumpkin puree, something that looked like a large baked banana and a big slice of carrot cake with white frosting.

Al took the plate, their mouth watering at the sight and smell of the food.
"Thank you", they whispered, "I really.. This is really..."
Wonky was still staring at them with their unblinking grey eyes.
"Thank you.", Albus just said again.
"It is no trouble at all!", Wonky exclaimed, "The young mistress is too kind to Wonky when Wonky has only given her leftover food from the house elf table."
"This is your food?", Al asked in shock, "Then I can' take it! What will you eat?"
"Oh, no no no no!", Wonky squeaked hastily, "There is more than enough for Wonky in the kitchens, please. The elves in Hogwarts is allowed to eat all the leftovers. It is very generous of the headmistress. Wonky is very grateful. The young miss does not need to worry. Wonky hopes the food will be to the young mistress' satisfaction!"
While they were speaking, they already hurried away, waddling backwards towards the light, bowing deeply several times as they did. Al had to jump out of the way as the painting swung shut again.

"Bootlicker", the pear giggled.

Chapter Text

The Sunday passed much like the day before. Al went to the tower oriel again that night but found it empty. Somewhat disappointed and giving in to tiredness they went back to their common room and slept almost through the night. In the morning, they avoided their dormmates as best as they could, skipped breakfast and roamed the school again. There were more students outside because the weather had cleared up, so Albus spent most of their time trying to learn the ways to their classrooms (they had a terrible sense of orientation). When the bell rang for lunch they went to the kitchens, where they had another brief but friendly encounter with Wonky that resulted in Al receiving a plate laden with the biggest piece of lasagna they had ever seen.

After they had done the same in the early evening (savoury pancakes filled with a delicious chili) they headed back to the common room, expecting it to be deserted since everyone had rushed to dinner in the Great Hall. Thus, they were surprised to see Mohammed curled up in one of the armchairs next to the fire, his skinny arms slung around his knees, his gaze distant.
Al felt like they were intruding on a private moment and already made to sneak back out when Mohammed noticed them.
“Oh hey”, he said, smiling at Albus softly, “Want to sit?”

The memory of the last time they had been in the common room together came back to Al, when Josh had pointed out their furry ears and people had laughed. Had Mohammed been one of them? Would he try to make fun of them now? Al could feel said ears starting to itch painfully. But Mohammed didn’t seem to be looking for an opportunity mock Al’s freaky ears. He had turned his head back towards the fire and was staring at the flames, seemingly lost in thought.
Al took a deep breath and walked over to sit down in the armchair next to Mohammed.

“Why are you not eating with the others in the Great Hall?”, Al asked tentatively.
“Not hungry.”, Mohammed answered, “What about you?”
Al grew red.
“I… I just like it better to eat in a quiet place”, they mumbled.
Mohammed shrugged and gave a small smile.

And then they talked for a while, hesitantly at first but soon their conversation became increasingly animated. They talked about being sorted into Hufflepuff and what their parents would think of it (Mohammed reckoned his dad would be proud no matter which house and his mother would be hiding her disappointment that he hadn’t gotten into Ravenclaw like she had), about the upcoming classes and which ones they were looking forward to the most (“Astronomy! I’m really good with stars and signs and my mum says it’s the basis for all other classes.”) and Mohammed was quite curious what it was like having a famous family (“So, the minister of magic comes to your house every weekend?!”)
It was easy to talk with him and Al almost forgot to be awkward and nervous. It seemed to be the same for Mohammed who had broken out of his initial shyness and turned out to be quite the talkative person.
So maybe it was this simple comfort or maybe the lateness and a full belly that made Al groggy enough that they thought it would be a good idea to share their new pronouns with Mohammed.

“Do you know this muggle thing? Gender-fluid?”, they asked before they could stop the words from leaving their mouth.
Mohammed flinched as if Al had hit him and a wall shot up behind his otherwise warm brown eyes. Al felt a strong sense of dread curl up in their stomach and wasn’t sure if it was their own.
“I don’t know. Heard of it. Why?”, Mohammed asked suspiciously and crossed his arms.
“Er... It’s just that… I think… I think I might um…”, Al stammered, but before they could maneuver themselves even deeper into embarrassment the lid-door to the common room swung open and Josh and Rafiq burst into the room. Following right behind, Amber, Ashley, Ava and Juliana crawled through the barrel. Josh and Rafiq had been chatting but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Al and Mohammed sitting by the fire. Then a smug grin spread over Josh’s face.
“Oh, hellouu lovebirds”, he cooed, “Are we interrupting something?”
Rafiq, Ashley and Juliana sniggered.
Al felt their face reddening once more while Mohammed jumped up from his seat as if he’d been stung by a hornet and let out a forced laugh.
“We were just talking about school”, he said in just as forced a casual voice and walked over to them.
“Why weren’t you at dinner, mate?”, Josh asked, slamming his hand down on Mohammed's back jovially, “There was Yorkshire Pudding, and they had each Head of House give a speech, it was hilarious! Ours seems to be a true scatterbrain, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she dropped her notes and all”, Rafiq laughed, “You should’ve seen it.”
Mohammed just shrugged nonchalantly and put his hands into the pockets of his robes. Behind him, the girls scuttled off towards their dormitory.

Now, Josh turned to Al and their heart sank. But he just sauntered over to them, Rafiq and Mohammed in tow and said: “Hey mate, I’m sorry about yesterday. It was just a joke, right? We good?”
Al nodded, mostly wanting the attention to be off themselves again. They could see how Josh tried to peer through their long hair at their ears.
“And also”, Josh continued, suddenly in a very serious tone, “if you’re gay, that’s alright mate. No judgment here, okay?”
Al didn’t know what to answer. They weren’t exactly sure what “gay” was but had gotten the hint that it was about them and Mohammed being lovebirds. But before they could think of something the boys burst out laughing. Josh slammed a hand on Al’s shoulder and the three of them walked away towards the dormitory, still sniggering.

On the first day of classes, Al woke up early. To the soft and constant snoring of Rafiq they got dressed, brushed their teeth hurriedly and took a deep, satisfying gulp of their medicine. It was a dark green potion of which Ginny had packed them three full bottles that would last them at least until Christmas. It tasted sweet and a little bitter as always, and immediately a heavy and warm tiredness spread through Al’s limbs, making them feel like going back to bed and sleep for at least three more days. All their senses felt a little numb, as if Al was experiencing the world through a thick layer of cotton.
But they ignored the potion’s side effects, snuck out of the dormitory quietly and went up to the Great Hall. They had decided to give it another try, well rested, freshly medicated and at an early hour when not so many students would yet be awake.

And they were proven right. Upon entering the Great Hall, the smell of milky oatmeal and fried bacon did give them a mild headache but the scattered students at the four large tables looked tired and sent off only small waves of emotion and noise that Al could withstand easily, especially through their invisible coat of cotton.
Al grabbed some toast and spread a thick layer of jam on it.
As they were eating, more students filed into the hall, yawning and stretching. The chatter rose and rang in Al’s ears, but they still felt strong and well-rested, confident that they could handle it.
When the hall was almost full and the noise of joyful and excited talking finally matched the size of the room, the windows suddenly blew open and a flock of owls soared through them. They sailed over the crowd of students and dropped letters, small parcels and newspapers into the recipient’s lap – or breakfast, depending on the motivation and targeting accuracy of the corresponding bird.

Al spotted Penny, who first flew over to the Gryffindor table to drop a letter onto James’ head, then drew a graceful curve in the air and flew towards Albus, on whose arm she landed softly and dropped an envelope she’d been holding in her beak into their lap.
Al thanked her and gave her the crust from their toast. She took it and, with an affectionate nip at their ear, flew off again. Inside the envelope Al found two letters, one written in the clear, straightforward hand of their mother and one in the large, bending scribble of their sister Lily.

“Dear Albus,”, the first one read,

We are SO proud that you are in Hufflepuff! It marks you as a good, loyal and hardworking person. And it’s the house that has produced the least dark wizards out of all of them. Teddy was in Hufflepuff too, remember? And look what a wonderful person he turned into! We think it’s fantastic that you are a Hufflepuff and we’re sure they are so lucky to have you.

You got sick during the welcoming feast?! Was it something you ate? Was it connected to your usual food sickness? Were you brought to the hospital wing immediately? Do remember to take your medication! And please go to Madam Pomfrey again today for a check-up. Better safe than sorry. Oh, I hope they are feeding you well… I remember the feasts at Hogwarts and there was little there for someone with your diet. Let us know if we should send you a care package! I can make you badge of all your favorite foods. And go talk to a teacher about your dietary needs, okay?
Please don’t ignore this, Albus!

How is the school? Are you making friends? Do write to us again soon, we are so curious to hear about your classes. And send our regards to Neville!

You can write to us whenever you want to, don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. James might fuss about letting you use Penny but do tell him mum says he has to share!

Sending plenty of love and kisses!
Mum and Dad

PS: Lily is determined to become a Hufflepuff too now!

Al smiled and was about to unfold the second letter when it was snatched out of their hands from the side. Josh shook the parchment open and skimmed it, then started reading out loud, with a high-pitched, mocking voice:

Hi Al!

Thats brilliant that your in Huffelpuff!! Teddy was there too! I think Huffelpuff is the best house and James is a git!!!

Josh pronounced every single exclamation mark individually and people around him started laughing. Al got up and said: “Give it back”, but much too quietly and Josh just ignored them.

“Yeah mum is really annoying!!”, he continued, making his voice sound even squeakier,

I know she’s trying to make me show my magic, even though she tries to hide it! Yesterday in Hogsprep I almost made a quill fly though!! It really shivered this time! I can’t wait to go to Hogwarts too!!!!!

“What’s Hogsprep, Severus?”, Josh sniggered, “Is it a preschool for untalented little girls?”
Half of the Hufflepuff table and a few nearby Slytherins were laughing now, Mohammed and Rafiq the loudest of them all. Somehow it stung more that Mohammed was laughing at Al too. He had been so nice yesterday…
Al tried to snatch the paper back from Josh, but they were clumsy and not very fast, and Josh was taller; he simply held the letter higher to keep it out of Al’s reach as he went on:

What is a fire ferret??! I want to see one when I come to Hogwarts!! Maybe you can make friends with it so we can meet?!
I looked up gender-fuild in the Everchanging Encyk Enciclo
[roaring laughter, Josh shouting: “How old is your sister, five?”]
Encyclopedia! It says:

Genderfluid: muggle term for a person whose gender identity changes over time. A genderfluid individual can identify as any gender, or combination of genders, at any given time (male, female, both or neither).

I’m not sure I understand it. Maybe I can meet this person too when I come to Hogwarts!!! Are you Al now because you are genderfulid too? Does it mean that you are sometimes my sister now? I always wanted a big sister!!!

Al had given up. Half of the Great Hall was now listening and students all around them were hysterical with laughter. Al didn’t know if they should scream at Josh or cry or try to laugh with everyone. They felt like every option was impossible.
Out of the corner of their eye, they spotted Carrot, who had jumped up from the Gryffindor table, looking furious and was striding over towards them. A few other students weren’t laughing either, including Amber and Ava, but their sorry expressions only made Al feel like they wanted to sink into the floor even more. They saw Carrot lift their wand and someone at the teacher’s table had noticed the commotion too, a dark figure having gotten up, calling for quiet.

Mum says I shouldn’t make it too heavy for Penny. Write me back soon!!! Go Huffelpuff!

Rafiq was banging his fists on the table, tears in his eyes. Some people were chanting: “Go Huffelpuff!” and Al’s ears were burning like fire, medication day or not.
“Accio!”, two voices exploded at the same time over the turmoil. The letter in Josh’s outstretched hand made a loud ripping sound and two pieces of parchment sailed into the hands of Carrot and one of the teachers, a slender witch with hair of an undefinable colour that was shaven very closely to her head. Both had pointed their wands at Josh who now threw up his hands as if to say wasn’t me.
The teacher, who was wearing long robes of swirling purple and black, like a thunderstorm sewn into a garment now pointed her wand at her throat and an instant later her voice boomed over the assembled students, magically magnified.
“Silence!”, she called. Al, still glued to the spot, and feeling weirdly out of their body, noticed that she looked familiar, as if they had met her before somewhere. But they couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
“This behaviour is unacceptable!”, the voice of the professor continued, still enhanced, even though the hall had fallen completely silent and you could have heard a quill fall to the floor, “And you call yourselves Hogwarts students? Joshua Burt, you will get detention for this, and I expect your Head of House to handle further punishment.”
She looked down at a very short witch beside her who had just stopped chatting with her neighbour and seemed to only now notice what was happening. The short witch, who wore an overly large black witch’s hat and bright yellow robes that hugged her curvy body, nodded vigorously.

“And if you are thinking to involve your mother in this matter, Mr. Burt”, the teacher directed her words once more at Josh who had opened his mouth as if to say something, “you can give her my kindest regards.” Something in the way she said this made it sound like a mortal threat and Josh shut his mouth again and resorted to glaring at her angrily.
“Now, let’s get back to breakfast, shall we?”, she raised her eyebrows daringly, “And whose is this?”
She held her half of Lily’s letter higher, scanning the Hufflepuff table. Everyone turned towards Al once more who was still feeling like they weren’t really there; maybe a ghost of them, but they themselves had actually sunken into the floor and been swallowed hole. It was a pleasant feeling, almost. They noticed how their ghost body raised a hand.
The professor tapped her throat once more with her wand, then used it to send the piece of parchment flying into Al’s outstretched hand. They caught it clumsily.

The students turned back to their conversations quickly, acting as if nothing had happened. Al heard Ava mutter to Amber and Ashley:
“That’s Professor Nott, she’s the Head of Slytherin House. Isn’t she wicked?”
“Wait, wasn’t that scary-looking bald man Professor Nott?”, Amber asked, looking confused.
“They both are.”, Ashley answered, rolling her eyes, “Weren’t you paying any attention? They’re brother and sister.”
“And it’s rumoured that they hate each other”, Ava added excitedly.
“And how do you know what is rumoured?”, Ashley asked.
“A third year told us”, Ava retorted smugly.
Al turned away from them to look back at the teacher’s table. Now they could see it too. That was the reason why Professor Nott (the shaved one) had seemed so familiar. Her facial features had a close resemblance to those of the man they had met in the wand store, although her eyebrows were less bushy, her skin a few shades darker than the ghostly white of Mr. Nott and her general expression friendlier. Al now also noticed that tattoos were climbing up her neck, moving black flames, licking at her sharp jawline. Her ears were adorned with many golden rings, just like her fingers which she was tapping on the table while the short witch with the large hat talked to her animatedly.

“Here’s your letter”, a voice came from behind Al, and they jumped. It was Carrot, handing them the other half of the torn parchment. Al took it and murmured a thank you. But Carrot kept standing in front of them, as if they meant to say something. In the end they muttered: “Let me know if that git bothers you again, I know some pretty funny hexes” and grinned, but Al had the distinct impression that this wasn’t what they had wanted to say in the first place. A strange, unidentifiable emotion wafted off them. Pity? Anger? Worry? Al couldn’t quite place it, and Carrot had already turned and strode off again before they could say anything else.

Their first class that day was Herbology with Professor Longbottom. Professor Longbottom, or Neville, as Albus knew him, was an old friend of their parents. They had been in Hogwarts together and he had lead Dumbledore’s Army in the final battle against Lord Voldemort together with Al’s mother and their friend Luna Lovegood. Whenever Neville came over, Al had a hard time imagining this part of him, as Neville was such a kind-hearted, gentle and clumsy person. He was maybe Al’s favourite out of their parents’ many friends because he was patient and honest and extremely interested in plants, which Al could connect too.
Al was looking forward to Herbology, although it felt strange to call Neville Professor Longbottom; and they had it together with the Ravenclaws which meant seeing Kinley again.

Kinley introduced Al to another Ravenclaw girl called Linh, who didn’t speak a lot but when she did, she gesticulated in a very particular manner, as if her hands were speaking a secret language, accompanying the words she said. The three of them worked together on a pot of coughing daisies, whom they had to convince to take a medicinal potion that would help with the coughing and produce Daisy’s Snot as an additional effect. The snot had to be collected into tiny glass phials because it was a valuable potions ingredient and Al was relieved that it didn’t have to be obtained by chopping the daisies’ heads of or something similar.
The class passed quickly and at its end Al was already quite sure that Herbology would become their favourite subject. The smell and calming atmosphere of the greenhouse alone made them want to stay there for the whole day and Neville – Professor Longbottom – was a great teacher, giving them time to figure things out and offering help where needed. At the end of the class he didn’t give them any homework, saying it was their first week and they should enjoy it as work-free as possible.

They were walking back up to the castle, Linh telling them about a book she was reading (Apparently Linh was into a muggle genre called “fantasy” which were stories about things that muggles didn’t consider to be real, like dragons and unicorns), when Josh, Rafiq and Mohammed caught up with them. Josh threw an arm over Al’s shoulders and proclaimed theatrically:
“Severus! Why art thou abandoning us for these beautiful Ravenclaw girls?”
“Piss off, Josh”, Kinley spat.
“Hey, hey”, Josh took his arm off Al’s shoulder to hold his hands up in a defensive gesture, “Why so unfriendly?”
“Because you made fun of Al in front of the whole school?”, Kinley answered angrily, “And now you’re acting like you’re their best friend, or what?”
“Come on, Ravenclaw, it was all just fun! Wasn’t it Al?”
Al looked from Josh’s grinning face to Mohammed and Rafiq. Mohammed smiled sheepishly and gave a tiny shrug.
“It was okay, Kinley”, Albus mumbled.
“It was not okay!”, Kinley exclaimed, “That was your private letter, and he had no right to take it. Let alone read it out loud!”
“What do you mean?”, Josh asked innocently. Then, he pitched his voice high again and squeaked: “Are you saying that Al doesn’t want to be my big sister anymore?”
Rafiq and Mohammed chortled.
“Piss off!”, Linh said now too, her hands making a definitive downwards movement.
“Wait”, Josh said, with a dumbfounded expression. And then, very loudly, overpronouncing every word and leaning towards Linh he shouted: “CAN YOU ACTUALLY HEAR ME?”
Linh and Kinley looked so furious now that even Josh understood the danger and before anything else could happen he rushed past them, Mohammed and Rafiq following closely behind. Only when they were a safe distance ahead, Josh and Rafiq turned around once more and shouted:
“Go Huffelpuff!”

“What a douche”, Kinley said, fuming, “Why are you letting him trample around on you like that?”
Al shrugged. What else should I do?, they thought. Each time Josh interacted with them, they froze and every reaction that they could think of made things worse in their head. They had to live with the three boys after all. They couldn’t just make enemies out of them. And besides, they smelled their fear and the pushed-down anger, growling like an encaged beast in Josh’s stomach. Al was afraid to unleash it.
“Are you okay?”, Kinley asked, turning to Linh now.
“What?” Linh had been staring after the trio, not paying attention.
“Are you okay?”, Kinley repeated, and Al had the strange feeling that she was now overpronouncing her words too.
Linh just nodded.
They walked in silence for a while.
Al glanced over at Linh. She was taller than both Al and Kinley and had broader shoulders and harder muscles. Her skin was of a soft beige color and her shimmering black hair almost reached her hips and was cut into a neat fringe above her dark eyes. On the second phalanx of each finger she wore a bronze ring matching the blue and bronze stitching along the hemlines of her school robes. A similar ring-shaped piercing hugged her lower lip. Al wondered what Josh had been on about, shouting at her.
Linh caught them staring and looked back. She lifted her hands.
“I’m deaf”, she said, but this time she didn’t move her mouth at all. She only pointed at her chest and then pressed two fingers to her cheekbone briefly and the words resounded out of her unmoving face.
“Or almost deaf”, she corrected herself, her mouth still shut, and Al understood now that the words were formed by her hands. “He seems to find that funny”, she pointed at the castle where Josh, Mohammed and Rafiq were about to enter through the large oak doors.
Al nodded. Slowly, they were beginning to get the feeling that they knew nothing of the world. In only three days they had encountered several people whose existence they had had no idea about and words they had never heard before.

The next class on Al’s schedule was potions. They swallowed, thinking about the conversation they had had with their dad on potion ingredients and expecting this class to become a test of their resilience in the least. It was comforting to see the Slytherins waiting in the dungeons outside the potions classroom, Scorpius immediately waving Al over excitedly, which made the Hufflepuffs eye them suspiciously.
There were much fewer Slytherins than there had been Ravenclaws. Al realized only now how uneven the distribution of students was. While they were eight in Hufflepuff and there seemed to have been around 15 Ravenclaws, House Slytherin consisted only of Scorpius and six girls.
Scorpius confirmed this count by scratching his head and whispering: “Yeah, I’m all alone in my dorm. I can sleep in a different bed every night!”
But Al could tell that his joy at this was feigned by the dark rings under his eyes.

In this moment, the door to the classroom flew open, hitting one of the Slytherin girls in the head.
She gave a small yelp and grabbed her forehead.
“Oh, sorry dear! Oh, I’m terribly, terribly sorry!” A small witch came scuttling through the door and waved her hands around in agitation. It was the same witch who had sat next to Professor Nott at breakfast and was apparently the head of house Hufflepuff.
“Oh, no dear. I’m so sorry! Here, let me…”, she had pulled out her wand and a white handkerchief and was now trying to reach the girl’s head which was difficult due to her extreme shortness and the girl moving away from her with a disgusted look on her face.
“Don’t touch me with that!”, the girl shot at her and threw her silvery white hair over her shoulder, I’m okay.” Albus remembered her from the sorting. Wasn’t she also called Nott? Synpho…? Nympho? Symphonia Nott!
She wore a sour expression, and Al tried to find resemblance with one of the adult Nott’s in it but couldn’t except for her ghostly white skin tone that matched that of Mr. Nott.
“Alright dear, alright! I won’t help you if you don’t want me to!”, the short teacher said soothingly and turned to the rest of the class.
“Good morning, dears!”, she beamed, “Welcome to your first potions lesson. Come in, come in!”

The potions classroom was dark and dimly lit by torches that hung on the naked stone walls. It was cold and moist and on the large shelves all around them stood jars and bottles and tins full of things that Albus preferred not to take a closer look at. A wave of nausea had already washed over them, accompanied by the smell of death and decay.
Someone had obviously tried to make the room more homely by spreading cloths and scarves in colorful patterns over the rough wooden tables and hanging pictures between the shelves that showed gorgeous butterflies who moved their wings lazily in the painted afternoon sunlight. But it wasn’t quite enough. The room remained gloomy and unfriendly, a place devoid of life.

The short witch, who had positioned herself behind the teacher’s desk on a small platform, looked very out of place in front of the dark masonry. She wore the same bright yellow robes and overly large black witch’s hat that Al had already noticed at breakfast. Underneath, her umber face shone with a broad, friendly smile and big brown eyes. Her features were round and soft like her body, only her long, bent nose standing out in a sharp contrast. A very faint mustache covered her upper lip, and golden earrings were dangling from underneath the rim of her hat, swaying slightly as she looked around at the class who were scrambling to find seats at the twin tables without ending up next to someone they didn’t like.
Al and Scorpius sat down quite in the back, next to a shelf that smelled like rotten fish. Nobody else seemed to be disturbed by the smell though, so Al concluded that it must be another of their illness-related sensitivities.

“Welcome!”, their teacher said again, smiling brightly at them, “As most of you know already, my name is Professor Dayal. I prefer to call my students by their first names, and you are hereby invited to do the same. I’m Harshita, nice to meet you!” She laid a hand on her chest.
Symphonia Nott scoffed audibly, and Al got the distinct feeling that nobody would be calling Professor Dayal by her first name.
“I will read out your names now, to see if everybody has found their way. Please confirm your presence when I call you.”
She took out a scroll of parchment from a drawer in her desk and started reading out names. No-one responded. After five names being called this way Professor Dayal paused and frowned down at the list. Then she hit her palm to her forehead and giggled.
“Oh, silly me!“, she said, “These are my Gryffindor/Slytherin fifth years!”
She started rummaging around her desk, pulling out parchment after parchment, looking into drawers and finally even crawling underneath the desk, to the amusement of the class; but apparently, she did not find the correct list anywhere, even though she had thrown her desk into complete chaos.
She straightened her robes and looked around thoughtfully.
“We’ll just do it this way”, she proposed, “You’ll get up, one after the other and state your first and last name and I’ll write them down. Once I find my original list again, I can compare the two to verify that everyone has been present. We’ll start from the back left corner – no, my left, dear – and proceed to the front right corner.”

The class did as they were told and got up one by one, stating their names. When it was Al’s turn, they spoke as loudly as they could and said: “Albus Potter”. Rafiq’s hand shot up.
“Albus forgot Severus, Miss. Albus Severus Potter. You spell it like ‘severe’”, he said in a very earnest tone. The boys sniggered while Professor Dayal thanked him and wrote it down.
Josh tried to make her believe that his name was Pinkyponk Doodaddle and she probably would have, had the boys not burst into laughter, making her take a second look at Josh.
“I see… You’re the troublemaker from this morning, aren’t you?”, she asked, trying to look stern which gave her a funny expression, like a child playing angry, “I seem to recall that your name was Joshua, rather than Pinkyponk. And please do remember to stay after class so we can arrange your detention.”
The grin from Josh’s face fell and he leaned back, folding his arms.

Most of the potions class wasn’t that exciting for Al. It seemed to be good fun for their classmates to experiment around with flubberworm spit, boomslang skin, lacewing flies, baneberries and leech juice, five basic ingredients that could combine to make many simple and harmless potions, but it was horrible work for Al.
Scorpius volunteered to squeeze out the leeches after Al had been trying to do it with closed eyes and bated breath for a few minutes, but it still made them feel ill and disgusting only to stir the bubbling freckles potion the two of them were creating.
Al asked to be excused halfway through class and sat in the bathroom for a while, only reluctantly going back to not risk a detention on the first day of classes already.
It cheered them up a little though when Josh and Rafiq’s potion made their noses grow into large potatoes instead of vanishing their pimples as they had planned.

When the bell rang to announce lunchtime, Al hurried out of the classroom as fast as they could and leaned against a wall around the corner, taking deep, calming breaths while the rest of the class filed out of the room in the other direction towards the Great Hall.
Al consulted their schedule. The next time they’d have potions was on Thursday afternoon. That was both good and bad news. Good because Al was relieved to have some time before they had to go back into the dungeons to cut up body parts of other creatures, bad because their medicine would have worn off a little by then already and it would be harder to resist the smell and pain of suffering.
“Hey!”, Scorpius’ extremely freckled face appeared around the corner, followed by his lanky body, “What are you doing over here?”
“Er... looking at my schedule?”, Al answered, caught off guard.
“Where do you always go for lunch?”, Scorpius pressed on. “I never saw you in the Great Hall for it. Neither for dinner”, he added.
“Ah, yeah… I just go to the kitchens”, Al shrugged as if that was a completely normal answer to give.
“Cool! Can I come?”

In the afternoon Al had a free period. After their lunch together, which they had taken out to the grounds, Scorpius hurried off to his Transfiguration class and Al strolled around the gardens and greenhouses once more.
They had just been watching some particularly fascinating fast-sprouting Pallymonas when James appeared in front of them.
There was an odd look on their older brothers’ face and he was kneading his hands uncharacteristically. Usually, James was all confidence and loud mouth, so Al looked up at him with a questioning look in their eyes and he plopped down on the ground next to them.
“What’s up?”, James asked lightly, as if he wasn’t the one acting weird.
Al shrugged. James sniffed and Al could sense his usual annoyance at them coming back, which was an integral part of all their interactions.
“Yeah, I figured.”, James said pointedly, “So you’re alright?”
Al looked at James with an even more confused expression and nodded slowly.
“Look, I’m sorry about what that git – Joshua, right? – well, what he did and all. I reckon I should have interfered.”
He scratched the back of his head.
“It’s okay”, Al whispered, “It was just a joke.”
“Hey, yeah… about that…”, James acted even more strangely now, pulling at his unruly dark hair. He looked so much like their father, everyone always said. Except for the bad eyesight, which Al had gotten instead. “…what was that stuff about you being Lily’s sister or something?”
A dart shot threw Al’s heart when they realized why James had come and simultaneously all the shame from the incident in the Great Hall flooded back into them.
Their face grew hot.
“What about it?”, they asked, in what they hoped was a challenging tone.
“Well, it’s just… I don’t know what you’ve gotten into your head lately and I don’t care, really. You can write to Lily whatever you want, but… it’s just… my mates have been asking and…?”
“Of course it’s about your mates.”, Al said quietly and got up, knocking the soil off their robes.
“No! Albus, come on, I didn’t mean it like that. I came to check on you, too!”, James looked almost pleadingly up at Al.
“Did mum put you up to this?”, Al asked.
James didn’t say anything.
“Yeah, I thought so”, Al said and walked away. Behind them they could hear James grunt in frustration, but they didn’t turn back. Anger, shame and sadness were clawing at their chest, each fighting to be on top.

Inside the castle, they didn’t know where to go. To the library? No, the risk of meeting one of their housemates there was too high. To the bathroom again? Did they want to spend half of their first year in toilet stalls?
Al fumbled around in the pockets of their robes, looking for their map of the school, when their fingers touched the letter from the morning. Looking around the deserted Entrance Hall, they pulled it out carefully. Al had pushed all three pieces of parchment roughly back into the envelope; the one from their mother and the two pieces of Lily’s letter. But now they spotted a fourth one that they hadn’t noticed at breakfast. An extremely old-looking piece of parchment, folded many times, looked out from behind Lily’s scraps. Albus looked around once more, to make sure no-one was around, and pulled it out carefully.
A note was attached, written in their father’s spidery hand.

Since I gave James the invisibility cloak, I thought you should have something useful for your explorations too. You know how it works. Don’t get caught with it! Your mother will kill me.
Love, dad

Al stared at the folded parchment, then got their wand out and whispered: “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” and tapped the empty paper.
Ink appeared in thin, elegant lines, as if a ghost were guiding a feather across the paper.

Hello there, Al Potter.
Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
are delighted to make your acquaintance.

Chapter Text

The rest of the first week passed a bit like a strange dream, always on the brink to nightmare.
Al got up early every morning to avoid the boys, especially since Josh had taken to waking them all up by pulling their curtains open and shouting “What’s your gender today, lads?” (Rafiq would always answer with a different one, laughing his head off when he chose “female” or “both” (he had forgotten about the "neither" option), while Mohammed was grumpy in the mornings, told Josh to shut up and pulled his curtains closed again). Al, having lived through this procedure twice by not waking up early enough had started to sleep even worse than usual.

They had always had sleeping troubles.
Partly they felt like it was a good thing that they seemed to need less sleep than the people around them, with Al usually going to bed the latest and being up first. Especially during times of high excitement or joy in their family, like the Quidditch World Cup, Christmas or when Teddy came over, Al felt like the broadly spread emotions of joy and happiness were energizing them beyond sleep or rest. At times they could go three or four days without sleep and didn’t feel tired at all.
But there were also the sleepless nights of the other kind, and now these were increasingly the nights they had. These occurred when their own emotions mixed up so dastardly with any pain or anger or suffering around them that their thoughts and feelings wouldn't stop rushing around their head like a tornado in the making. These nights were fuelled by Josh’s anger and Mohammed’s fear and Rafiq’s silent crying at midnight when he thought nobody was awake anymore. And they were fuelled by Al’s own loneliness.

Kinley and Scorpius had their own houses and classes, and both disappeared afterwards (Kinley to the reception and where Scorpius went, Al didn’t know). So, Al rarely saw them.
During the first days, they had thought that they would get along well with Amber and Ava, maybe. But when they tried to hang out with them it only led to more menacing ridicule and teasing by the boys. And besides, Ava and Amber were such a well-attuned pair, knowing each other so intimately and both being so talkative and outgoing that Al felt like an alien next to them anyway.
They tried to adapt more to the boys, join in with their jokes and constant pranking, but they just weren’t good at it, and they never knew when the funniness would turn around to bite them. They felt like the boys had sensed Al's weakness, their weirdness, their incapability to defend themselves. Al had become the easiest target whenever one of them needed to feel strong.
Finally, Al started avoiding the dorm altogether. They hid their toothbrush in one of the school bathrooms and stayed away from the Hufflepuff common room day and night.

With the gift from their dad, roaming the castle at nighttime had become a lot easier. What Harry had sent them was nothing less than the Marauder’s Map, a tool that had already been extremely useful to him during his schooltime. It had been created by Al’s grandfather James Potter Senior and his friends when they had been at Hogwarts. The map showed every room, stairwell and corridor of the castle, plus all the secret passageways and how to access them. But the real lifesaver was the spell cast on the map that showed every person within the castle and on the grounds as a little dot with a name next to it. This way, Al could avoid the patrols, Peeves the poltergeist and the caretaker of Hogwarts easily and explore the castle to its full extent.

In a sort of large storeroom, where nobody ever seemed to go and that was full of old furniture, Al had found a dusty couch. So, they started curling up on it to nap for a few hours during the first nights of their common-room abandonment, but most of the time they couldn’t find sleep, no matter how hard they tried or how tired they were.
Al grew thick eyebags and frequently dozed off during lessons, to the displeasure of their teachers.

The teachers in general were mostly not very fond of Albus, it seemed to them.
Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch, who had all already taught their dad were friendly enough but seemed to be disappointed by the comparison. Al hadn't inherited their dad's genius apparently, had trouble concentrating and was far from exceptional at flying a broomstick, unlike their father and brother.

History of magic could have been interesting, but Al had always been bad with dates and Mr. Nott had a clear dislike for them. But then again, he seemed to have a clear dislike for most of his students, especially for Mohammed and the triplets for some reason.

In Astronomy, which took place on Wednesday at midnight for the Hufflepuffs, Al was grateful for being paired with Mohammed, because he hadn’t exaggerated when he had said that he knew a lot about stars and planets and their constellations. But there was no opportunity to have a friendly conversation during class because Professor Sinistra was terribly strict and allowed not so much as a whisper when one wasn’t spoken to by her personally. After class Mohammed quickly rejoined Josh and Rafiq and didn’t look at Al twice again.

And then there was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Tryphena Nott, who introduced herself as such to distinguish herself from her brother. Al had dreaded that class, both because they feared their incapability to show like in all the other subjects, and because Tryphena Nott was one of the most intimidating people they had ever met, they thought.

This first impression was soon proven wrong though. Professor Nott, though looking intimidating in her ringed and tattooed tallness, was extremely kind and patient with the class, encouraged them to think for themselves and to ask any questions they had at all times.
Furthermore, they didn't have to do any magic in the first lessons. The class mostly learned about the background and workings of the Dark Arts, what was considered Dark Magic and why, including how prejudice and a rigidly flawed justice system defined who was dangerous and who wasn’t, how defence spells worked and when to use them. After their first two lessons with her, during the latter of which Professor Nott had encouraged them to question the supremacy of wizardkind over other beings and assigned an essay about the portrayal of hags in literature as homework, Al was debating with themselves if Defence Against the Dark Arts was maybe overtaking Herbology as their favourite subject.

“Wow, who would have thought that Defence Against the Dark Arts would be such a bore?”, Al heard Ashley drawl after said lesson, “And who wants to write an essay defending stupid hags? They’re just ugly child-eaters and give witches a bad rap, don’t they?”
“Thought you were muggle-born, Howell”, Josh grinned, “How do you know so much about hags? Achievable future ambition?”
“Shut your mouth, Joshua Timothy Burt, or I’ll tell your mum she needs to come to school to rebuke her little good-for-nothing in person”, Ashley retorted icily with raised eyebrows.
Apparently, Josh had received a howler this morning in the Great Hall from his parents who were most upset about him having gotten detention in the first week and had screamed at him from the blood-red, smouldering letter for seven minutes straight.
Al felt a strange empathy for Josh that they didn’t want to be feeling. Their classmates had been quoting the horrible things his parents had said back at Josh all day, much like people in the corridors were still randomly shouting "Go Huffelpuff" at Al when they walked by.
A different part of them was filled with the grim satisfaction of Josh having to face a similar kind of humiliation now.
“Yeah, DADA sucks”, Rafiq croaked, cutting the tension, “Will she ever tell us how to defend ourselves or will we learn all year about monsters and dark wizards actually just being terribly misunderstood?”
Al couldn’t hold back anymore.
“I don’t think that’s what she’s saying”, they blurted out, much louder than they had intended to – and immediately regretted it. Everyone’s eyes turned toward them, staring expectantly. Ashley's dark eyebrows were raised so high that they almost disappeared under her blond fringe. It hit Al that it was Friday afternoon in the same moment that their ears started to burn like someone had set them on fire. Panicking, they covered their ears and ran off, the sound of confused laughter following them down the corridor and Josh shouting: "Good point, Severus!".

They burst into an oddly shaped little cabinet, closed the door behind them and pulled out the Marauder’s Map. None of their classmates had come after them, they were still all together, slowly moving from the Defence classroom towards the entrance hall, probably still laughing about the show Albus had given them. Al took a deep breath and felt their ears absentmindedly when they noticed another dot on the map right next to them. Startled, they looked around. The cabinet was bending around a corner like an L, the furthest part not visible to them. They turned their eyes back to the map.
Gloomy, read the name next to the dot.

Slowly, Al snuck towards the bend and poked their head around it.
In the little nook behind the L-bend a small creature squatted over a large book that lay open on the floor. Around them floated dozens of candles, hovering slightly and painting the scene in an eerie, flickering light. Al recognized at once what kind of creature it was that was studying the pages – it was another house elf, visible from the large pointy ears, although these ones were so long, that they were hanging down like wet rags. The house elf was positioned with their back towards Al and hadn’t noticed them yet. The pillowcase that they were wearing like a short, rectangular dress bore the Hogwarts crest and their skin was leathery and of a reddish, dark brown. One of their long, spindly fingers was tracing the lines of the text that covered every inch of the page.

Al considered retreating to not bother the reading elf, but then curiosity got the better of them.
“Hello?”, they whispered. The elf jumped and turned around, trying to shield the book with their body – to no effect as their skinny frame barely covered half a page. They stared at the floor in front of Al, with wide, glittering eyes.
“I is caught”, they said, with a voice that was rather low compared to those of Shalky and Wonky and had a heavy, slow flow to it. Then they bowed their head, looking terribly sad.
“Oh, no… Excuse me”, Albus mumbled shaking their head, “I didn’t mean to scare you or eh… catch you.”
“Gloomy has been reading books, it is true”, Gloomy continued gloomily, as if they hadn’t heard Al, “Gloomy has been breaking the law and the young wizard has to call the authorities now, Gloomy knows.”
“No, no!”, Al exclaimed, “I won’t call any authorities, I promise…”
“But why is it forbidden, Gloomy asks”, Gloomy went on, “Why may a house elf not read, sir?”
And for the first time, they looked directly at Al, large watery eyes shining orange, the flickering candlelight dancing up and down in them.
“I… I don’t know. “, Al stammered, “House Elves aren’t allowed to read?”
“Surely not, sir”, Gloomy responded and held up their four-fingered hand, “One…” – they counted down on their fingers, “…no touching of wands. Two… no speaking ill of your master, your master's family or property. Three… no reading. Four…” – their stare intensified – “no speaking in tongues.”
"No speaking in tongues?", Al repeated.
"Gloomy does not fully understand it herself, sir", the elf answered, "Gloomy suspects it means no learning of foreign languages, but what does she know? Gloomy is not a clever elf. A clever elf follows the rules. Gloomy is a very stupid elf, sir."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Gloomy plucked one of the candles out of the air and held it underneath her hand, wincing as the flame licked her palm.
"Stop!", Al shouted and was relieved to see that Gloomy immediately pulled her hand away from the flame, "Why are you doing that?"
"Gloomy has to punish herself, sir, for she has been caught. Gloomy is not allowed to be reading books, sir."
Her huge orange eyes were still fixed on Al's and her little hand edged closer to the candle again, shivering.
"No, don't.", Al said, and then, remembering their dad telling them about Kreacher, the house elf Harry had inherited, they added hesitantly: "I... I order you to not punish yourself?"
It felt strange to say it, but had the effect Al had hoped for. Gloomy immediately let go of the candle that floated back to her side and she bowed deeply.
"Is the young master wishing to punish Gloomy himself?", she asked, her head almost between her legs.
"No! I er... wish that Gloomy doesn't get punished at all", Al responded, finding themselves slipping into her speaking habit unconsciously.
"Is the young master being serious?", Gloomy asked, looking up with a terrified expression, her eyes filling with tears. Al nodded.
"Oh, what a marvelous wizard he must be! If he only knew how Gloomy wants to respect the master's wishes but she can't sir, she can't", Gloomy exclaimed, large tears now leaking from her eyes, "Above the elf is the student, above the student is the teacher, above the teacher is the headmistress, above the headmistress is the ministry of magic. And Gloomy has to follow the highest of them first! - But if it disturbs the young master, Gloomy will punish herself later in her barrel so he doesn't have to see.", she added.
"Gloomy is a bad elf, you see. Always has been.", she continued and her eyes glazed over, like she was forgetting that Al was standing in front of her, looking at some other scenery from inside her mind.

"Gloomy was a bad scholar, she was punished many times. She is wanting to read, she is wanting to write poetry, she is wanting to speak her mind but she shall not! 'You is never going to find work' the other elves tolds her, 'You is a bad elf'. And they was right, Gloomy couldn't find work. She is travelling around, looking for a master, offering her services, but the masters doesn't want a servant who speaks and dreams. So Gloomy was going hungry, she was eating the food the muggles is giving to the pigs, she was sleeping in the woods.
And then - she finds work! She finds a mistress who gives her food. The mistress isn't kind. She is an evil witch, Gloomy thinks, an evil witch! And the work is very painful, sir, very painful work and it's a work that the witches and wizards despise, yet they does need it, they does come for it. They comes to Gloomy and takes her work and they treats her like vermin, sir. Gloomy is starting to think that she might hate wizardkind…"

At this, Gloomy came back to herself, and clasped her hands over her mouth in horror.
Al tried to smile at her encouragingly and nodded, trying to tell her to go on and her eyes filled with tears once more.
"I is having to punish Gloomy very severely later, I is having to", she mumbled, then looked up at Al again with watery eyes and continued:

"So Gloomy is doing the work and when the mistress doesn't see, Gloomy is learning to read. There is other elves there who says 'Bad Gloomy! You doesn't knows your place! Bad!' but Gloomy does it anyway, hidden underneath the floorboards, sir. And Gloomy starts to write and she thinks she might be happy after all. She thinks she can do the work if she can write her poetry. But then..." - a horrified look washed over Gloomy’s face and Al felt a harsh pain drive into their chest, "Then Gloomy makes a mistake, sir. Gloomy is touching a wand. It is not Gloomy's intention, she is scared! The wizard who takes her work that day is very cruel, sir, very cruel indeed and he tries to kill Gloomy, Gloomy thinks. She cannot breathe, so she reaches out for his wand, and she isn't thinking, sir and she points it at him and she..."

Gloomy clutched her hands over her face now, tears streaming down her cheeks in small rivers. Speaking through her hands, she carried on.

"Gloomy is having to flee, sir. She is having to hide. She is hiding for years, she is hiding from the ministry, she is hiding from every human, wizards and muggle alike, she is hiding even from herself. Gloomy is learning to survive in the forest, sir, she is starting to think she is her own master. Bad Gloomy! Stupid Gloomy! Touching the wand has put ideas in her head. She thinks it is unjust how she was treated but she is only a house elf, sir, she doesn't know her place, she is going insane, she thinks!
And one day, a wise old wizard is finding Gloomy, sir. Is finding her in the forest, because she is not paying attention. He is a kind wizard, he is a headmaster of a school he tells Gloomy. She can work there, he tells her. He even offers her payment! Payment, sir! Gloomy knows she is a bad elf, but she is telling herself she is not sinking so low. She is offered a second chance, sir, and she takes it."

Gloomy looked up at Al, a broad smile contorting her crinkly, wet face.

"Gloomy has been working at Hogwarts for more than twenty years now, sir. Gloomy is very grateful." Her face fell.
"But Gloomy is a bad elf, sir. Even when she has everything she could wish for, Gloomy dreams of freedom. Sometimes Gloomy thinks she wants to go back into the forest. She is getting food every day, sir, and she has her very own barrel all to herself! But she is still wanting to break the rules. She is still sneaking off to read, she is still dreaming away when she should work, she is still...", her voice dropped to a whisper, "...writing poetry."

Gloomy stared at Al, the sadness back on her face, where it was written deeply into the lines that drew her features. Al felt sorry for her and angry at the witches and wizards who had treated her so cruelly. She reminded them of someone else, someone who they knew only from stories.
"Did you get to know Dobby?", they asked. Gloomy's face started to light up, her eyes shining like rising suns over her ocean of tears. She nodded vigorously.
"Yes, sir, I does, sir! Dobby was a hero for Gloomy. Dobby was a free elf! The older elves says 'Bad Dobby, disgraceful Dobby, taking clothes and demanding pay!" But some of the younger elves, they takes his ideas. They thinks he is crazy, but brave. Gloomy thinks so too, sir, secretly. But the elves doesn't want to loose their work. They doesn't want to be out in the streets begging for work like Gloomy, sir. Gloomy was friends with Dobby, but they didn't see each other often. Gloomy is doing the laundry and Dobby is employed in the kitchens and there is a lot of work to do every day! And then there is the war and... and... Dobby dies."
Gloomy gave one big sob and wiped her eyes with a corner of her pillowcase.

Al thought about it for a while.
"I think it is unjust.", they said finally, "The way you are being treated. I think I would hate wizardkind too if I were you. I hate wizardkind sometimes even now." They gave a weak smile. Gloomy still stared up at them from her large, unblinking eyes.
"You is a kind wizard", she sniffled, "Dobby was always telling Gloomy about the good wizards, about Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, sir. You is a good wizard, like them!"
Suddenly she looked very shy and started fumbling with the ends of her long, drooping ears. "Would you...", she started, "Would the young wizard like to visit Gloomy sometimes? Not... not if he doesn't want of course! Gloomy knows a kind wizard like he must have many friends!", she added hastily.
Al made a small noise that was somewhere between disbelief, sadness and gratefulness.
"I don't have a lot of friends.", they said, "And I would love to come visit you sometimes." They tried to show that they really meant it, seeing the quivering look of anxiety on Gloomy's face.
"I'm Al, by the way."
"Al?", the elf let the sound rest in her mouth for a moment. "M... Miss...", she was clamouring for words, "Mister... miss... Al? Please excuse Gloomy's terrible ignorance! But is it... is it a wizard's name or a witch's?" She grabbed her ears and pulled on them.
Al reddened. "Ehm... neither I think?", they said carefully, thinking back to the fiasco with Mohammed.
"Oh!", Gloomy exclaimed, "Oh, excuse me then, sir - no - miss - no!"
She pulled on her ears so hard that they stretched almost to the floor.
Al smiled. "No need to be sorry.", they said and scratched their head, "I don't fully understand it myself. Maybe you can just drop the 'miss' and 'sir' and 'master' and just... address me like a friend...?"
Gloomy's eyes widened so much that they were threatening to pop out of her head.
"A friend?", she repeated exasperatedly and fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands and sobbing loudly. Al didn't know how to react and just remained where they were until Gloomy collected herself. Then, wiping her eyes with the pillowcase again she said: "Yes, si... Yes, Al. Gloomy can try, Al." She spoke their name almost reverently and beamed up at them, still kneeling between the floating candles, looking like she was performing some kind of ritual.

In this moment, the school bell rang.
"Oh, I have to go!" Al slung their bag over their shoulder. "See you tomorrow?"
Gloomy's lower lip shivered, as if she was about to cry again, but she just pulled up her nose forcefully and answered:
"Yes, mi... Yes, Al!" and bowed deeply, her head hitting the floor as Al waved awkwardly and walked back out of the cabinet and shut the door behind themselves.

Chapter Text

It was late September. More than two weeks had passed since Al had stumbled upon Gloomy in the cabinet. Since then, life had become a little better for Al.
They still weren’t very good at most classes, always managed the task at hand last or not at all and frequently lost Hufflepuff house points, for not paying attention or falling asleep in class, to the dismay of their classmates. Rafiq, Josh and Mohammed still teased and taunted them about Lily, about being girlish and having long hair, about being gay, about being weird. It was still always framed in this confusing context of it just being jokes between friends and Al could see them behaving the same to one another, but they still couldn’t find a way to stand up for themselves or to laugh it off like they did.

But some things were better.
During their breaks and most of the afternoons, Al spent time with Scorpius, Kinley and Linh. None of them were entirely happy in their houses either and it was incredibly relieving to know that Al wasn’t the only one who didn’t fit in.
At first, Scorpius and Linh needed a while to warm up to one another but finally found their passion for books and stories to bond over. Linh introduced Scorpius to “fantasy” and a bunch of other muggle literature and Scorpius had shown them all his Easy Read Quickspell, which was a thin, transparent golden foil that you laid on the page or passage that you wanted to read. It then projected the contents into the air, small golden wizards fighting dragons or a devil’s snare falling in love hopelessly with a coughing daisy and all the while a low, soothing voice narrated the scenes, giving each creature their own voice, making the stories come alive on the pages.

Kinley had in turn revealed to them the secrets of phones, which were incredible devices that – if they hadn’t known better – Al would have sworn were magical. You could not only watch moving and speaking pictures – which were called “videos”, Kinley explained – on them. You could also play hundreds of different little games, record yourself and then see how you would look as an old person or as a dog or twist your face in all sorts of funny ways; you could draw and write and read and send messages or “make calls” to other phones. Kinley swore that she could connect with any muggle wherever on the planet if they had a phone and she showed them a few people she “followed” from Jamaica, Rwanda, Brazil and Japan.

What Al liked most was an “app” that Kinley showed them that could identify every plant, tell you its properties, where it grew and what it needed and what one could do with it. It couldn’t identify most magical plants sadly and Al started wondering if there was such a thing for witches and wizards too or if they would forever brood over thick library books.
Kinley showed them a spell that some older students had found that created little electric shocks with which you could “recharge” the phone. This technique was apparently a lot more effort than how they did it at muggle homes where they could just use a “plug” and let it charge on its own.
Al knew plugs from their grandfather, Arthur Weasley who collected them, but Al had never seen one in use and doubted that their grandfather knew how it worked either.
Both Kinley and Linh were endlessly amused and shocked by all the things Al and Scorpius had never heard of. Just as the wizarding world was a brilliant and amazing new discovery for them, the muggle world was a brilliant and amazing conundrum for Scorpius and Al.

Al had completely abandoned sleeping in the dormitory and lived full-time in the large storage room with the dusty couch now – only that it was much nicer since Al had revealed to Gloomy where they were sleeping. The evening after that conversation had taken place, they found the room cleaned and tidied. The towering shelves full of old and strange objects had been moved to line the walls, one of the upturned tables stood in the middle of the room covered with a purple tablecloth and a few chairs of various types and sizes grouped around it. The dusty couch smelled distinctly less dusty, was covered in fresh white linen and had been stocked with a bunch of fluffy pillows and a thick, soft duvet. A bunch of fresh school robes were folded neatly and stored away in a small cupboard and even a bowl filled with wrapped little chocolates stood on the upturned basket that served as a bedside table. Al had stared at the transformed room dumbfounded for a while until tears had made their vision blurry.

From then on, they always brought Gloomy a book from the library that they thought she might like. And when Al found out that Gloomy was also very interested in what was going on outside of Hogwarts, they always brought her the library copies of The Daily Prophet and two smaller newspapers of the previous day. The librarian, who had gotten very used to Al, started having the papers ready for them in a bundle and often recommended poetry books or novels that he thought would suit “Al’s taste” (Al had of course not told him that they were delivering the reading material to a house elf).

They had just spent their Monday afternoon free period in the cabinet, bent over their Potions homework and Gloomy glued to the pages of “I Stood in a Storm – Poetry by Hags, Werewolves and Other Intelligent Beasts” by Corbyn Bottleswirth. Now they were on their way to their second afternoon period which they had managed to not think about until they arrived at the History of Magic classroom, where the other Hufflepuffs were already waiting and Mr. Nott had just opened the door.
He raised an eyebrow at Al, who slid into the classroom last and said in his slick, low voice: “You’re one minute late, Mr. Potter. Five points from Hufflepuff.”
Their classmates groaned and Juliana shot Al a nasty look.

“Now”, Mr. Nott had positioned himself at the top of the class, “I expect you have all read the chapters on the goblin rebellions of 1612 and 1752 as I have assigned you.”
The gaze he let drift over the class gave the impression that he severely doubted that they were even capable of reading.
“Who can tell me the names of the three most famous goblin slayers of the 17th century?”
A few hands shot into the air. Mr. Nott ignored Amber and Ava and picked his clear favourite, Rafiq.
“Gondelbar the Gruesome, Finneas the Fearless and Symphonia the Sublime.”
“Correct, Mr. Sheikh”, Mr. Nott gave a thin smile, “And how did Symphonia the Sublime handle the rogue goblins imprisoned in her castle when they initiated the Ruthless Riots of 1613?”
More hands shot up. Mr. Nott disregarded them.
While Rafiq eagerly recounted the bloody beheadings and impaling of the goblin rioters, anger rose in Al. They had been noticing a shift in how their emotions were manifesting lately, moving away from those around them. Hardening to the overwhelming wave of other people’s feelings and curling up more and more frequently as a rage inside their stomach, not unlike the rage they felt within Josh sometimes.

They raised their hand. Rafiq, who was sitting behind Al, stopped perplexedly. Of course, Al had never spoken up in any class until now. If Mr. Nott was irritated too, he didn’t let it show.
“Yes, Mr. Potter?”, he said in an uninterested sort of tone.
“Sir, what about the goblins’ demands? It says in our history books that they rose up to rebel against the way they were being treated by wizardkind and that they wanted to be granted possession of wands.” Al heard their voice shiver, but at the same time they couldn’t remember ever having spoken so loud and clear in front of a group. Mr. Nott raised his eyebrows and pulled his mouth into a bemused smirk.
“The goblins’ demands, Potter? Are you of the opinion that when one feels like one is not being treated with kid gloves like a forest fairy, one should start mass murdering witches and children?”, he asked.
“No!”, Albus exclaimed, “But goblins were being treated horribly! In the 17th century they weren’t yet granted any protection under wizarding law. Wizards could just have their way with them without any repercussions.”
“And where did you read that in the assigned texts?”, Mr. Nott asked icily.
“I...”, Al’s voice faltered, “I did some extra reading…”
“Extra reading?”, a condescending smile spread over Mr. Nott’s face, “There are two things you need to understand, Mr. Potter. One, you will read what you are assigned, even if you apparently inherited the desire of your father to be something special.” Behind them, Al could hear some of their classmates chuckling.
“Two”, Mr. Nott continued, “Not everything one reads in a randomly selected library book is true. That’s why we are studying with books that are verified by the curriculum. Now, in your case, you would have done well to read a little bit more, if you were already so eager to do extra work.”
Next to Al, Ashley snorted into her cupped hands.
“Silence, Howell. If your muggle parents didn’t teach you how to behave yourself, I would have expected you to have learned by now.”
Ashley’s grin fell. Nobody laughed anymore.
“If you had done so”, Mr. Nott turned back to Al unwaveringly, “You would have discovered that goblins were, in fact, protected by the law as they were classified as beasts level XXXXX – Known wizard killers. It was – and is – forbidden to hunt or try to domesticate a beast level 5X. They were classified as such because goblins have incredibly strong magic and a long history of brutal attacks on wizardkind. So you may excuse our ancestors for not dropping wands into their greedy, clawed hands so that they would be able to do this even more successfully.”
Al opened and closed their mouth silently. The ball of rage in their stomach had twisted into a ball of shame and confusion. Something in Mr. Nott’s line of reasoning didn’t seem right but they couldn’t find a counter argument. Plus, their courage was leaving them rapidly, and they felt the stares of the whole class hotly on their skin now. They lowered their gaze.

Mr. Nott stroked his triangle beard and looked around triumphantly.
“Any more questions?”, he asked. After nobody raised so much as a finger, he continued his lesson, ending with giving them a large amount of homework, including a 20-inch-long essay about the question “Should goblins have been unclassified as beasts and registered as beings, therefore granting them rights under wizarding law and giving them complete control of the financial system? Debate the pros and cons”, which he attributed to Al’s “intelligent question”, rewarded with another groan from the class.

When Al stepped out of the classroom the mixture of confusion, anger and shame was still bubbling within them. But before they could sneak off as they had planned, someone clapped a heavy hand on their shoulder. It was Josh, behind him Rafiq, Mohammed and Ashley.
“Severus, what’s up, lad?”, he asked, grinning broadly.
Al shrugged and muttered: “I need to go”
“And where to?”, Josh asked, “No, seriously mate, where are you always off to?”
Al just shook their head, not knowing what to answer.
“You don’t even sleep in the dorm anymore!”, Josh fake-cried.
“I… I just get up early”, Al stammered.
“Yeah sure”, Rafiq said sarcastically, “And you take your toothbrush with you every day and always close the curtains in exactly the same way…”
“Come on, Severus”, Josh boomed and slung his arm around Al’s shoulders guiding them towards the entrance hall, “You can tell us. We’re your friends! Are you staying over at your little Slytherin boyfriend’s?”
Al’s face reddened and their ears began to itch.
“He’s not my boyfriend”, they mumbled.
“Alright sure.”, Josh smirked and Mohammed giggled loudly, “But then I don’t see why you’re abandoning us. Plus”, he pulled out a green bottle from his robes and Al’s eyes widened in shock, “You forgot something in the bathroom, mate.”
In the same moment that Al recognized their medicine, they realized that they hadn’t taken it in almost three weeks. They had completely forgotten about it. Suddenly their ears burned incredibly hot and the itching spread to their scalp and neck. They tried to shake their hair over their ears, too afraid to touch them to check.
“To keep the emotional turmoil out”, Josh read what Ginny had written in ornate writing on the label, “Got an anger problem, Severus? That why you went rampant in History just now?”
He made a noise like an angry cat and Ashley, Rafiq and Mohammed laughed loudly.
“Please, give it back”, Al said pleadingly, “That’s medicine. I need to take it.” And they tried to grab it, but Josh just passed it on to Mohammed who passed it further away to Rafiq.
“Didn’t need it so much the last weeks, did you?”, Josh laughed.
“Come on, Sev”, he smashed a hand on Al’s back, “Come back to your house and sleep in the dorm with us again and I’ll give it back to you tomorrow. Promise.”
“And take a shower”, Ashley added from behind, holding her nose, “You stink like you haven’t washed yourself since we arrived here.”
Roaring laughter.

So, Al went with them to the common room. They were to focused on keeping their breathing calm and forcing down the urge to scratch their skin off to do anything else than quietly follow the boys and Ashley down the stairs from the entrance hall and through the barrel. The comment about them stinking had already taken flight, and Al could tell that it would follow them for at least a few weeks now, just like the Go Huffelpuffs in the corridors.
They couldn’t tell if they really smelled. They had always washed up at the sink in the morning as well as they could, but hot, sharp embarrassment whispered to them that it was possibly true what Ashley had said. The boys gave another big, roaring laugh when Al mumbled that they would take a shower after they arrived in the dormitory.

Al stayed under the shower for a long time, trying to calm down and get their emotions under control. Now that they knew that they hadn’t taken their medicine they felt like their body was a bomb that could explode at any moment. How could they have been so stupid? After all the reminders by Ginny and years of routine, how could they have just forgotten like that?
The hot water ran down Al’s face and back, mixing with the salt of tears when they heard the bathroom hatch open. They froze, expecting someone to whip a twisted towel at them through the shower curtain or drop a dungbomb or something similar. But they just heard the hatch once more after a few seconds, whoever had entered leaving the room again. Al turned off the water and peaked out of the shower. Nobody was there. The sandstone floor lay empty before Al, late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the round window.

They stepped out of the shower and only then realized what was off. The empty floor. There were no clothes where Al had dropped them anymore. Not even the white fluffy towels that were usually stacked in a corner were there. Al staggered over to the hatch and knocked on it.
“That’s not funny!”, they tried to shout but their voice came out squeaky and shivery.
Nobody answered. Al pressed their ear to the wood, realizing simultaneously that it had grown pointy and was fully covered in fur. There was no sound outside of the bathroom.
In that moment the school bell rang for dinner and Al could hear hundreds of feet trampling towards the Great Hall above. Still no sound from the dormitory.

Slowly, Al pushed the hatch open a tiny bit and peaked out. Josh, Mohammed and Rafiq’s beds were empty, the curtains drawn to the side. Nobody seemed to be in the room. They pushed the hatch open a bit further and poked their head out, confirming that the dormitory was deserted before squeezing their naked body through the opening and rushing over to their bed.
They pulled out the large drawer underneath it – and found their suitcase to be gone too. No robes, no underwear, not even their blanket was still there.

Before Al could even realize that they were panicking it was already happening. Their heartbeat fastened and their breathing hitched. They felt a strong tug at their front teeth and their skin started to itch all over, fur sprouting on the back of their hands, down their chubby legs and arms, covering their belly and backside. Al tried to scream but could only produce a desperate little squeak, feeling like their vocal cords were being pressed together by millstones.
Their eyes started bulging as if they were about to pop out of their skull and suddenly everything in their body seemed to pull inward painfully, like they were being sucked in by their own intestines. Claws grew from their fingertips, their face contorted, the room around them blurred and twisted and then – it was over.

Al could feel it, even before they looked down at their small, red paws and back at their stubby white tail. They could feel how they were small, smaller than a cat, how their front teeth had elongated into canine fangs, how their ears were large and pointy and picked up every tiny sound outside the window and above in the castle and how their cheeks had sprouted whiskers.
It had happened again.