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Albus Potter and Slytherin's Office by Pheonix Potioneer
Chapter 3 : The Feast
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 6

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His name seemed to ring in his ears over and over. Albus froze where he was standing. Here was the moment he had been thinking about for weeks. Whispered struck the hall like wildfire.

“Did he say Potter?”

“Harry Potter’s son?”

“I think he did!"

Albus realized that he was just standing there, and he ought to go up. Trembling, he sat down on the stool. His knobby knees, a family trait, felt like they were about to collapse. It was astonishing that he didn’t fall over, since he was shaking so hard.

He placed the hat on his head, which drooped over his eyes, and he immediately started thinking, Please don’t put me in Slytherin, oh please, not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not there, oh please, please…

“Not Slytherin?” said a tiny voice inside the hat. “No doubt your father told you the trick for not going into Slytherin.... I wanted to put him in Slytherin but he begged me not too….”

His father had almost been put in Slytherin? He would probably be the last person Al would guess of being a Slytherin. Dad was the opposite of a Slytherin, or so he thought. He was so busy thinking about this he barely realized the hat was talking to him.

“There’s plenty of talent, but he’s very brave too…difficult like his father…Gryffindor or Slytherin?”

Albus gripped the seat tighter. Please not Slytherin. Please!  He was so horrified of being put in Slytherin that he gripped his seat until he thought his hand would burst. All of a sudden, Albus felt the sensation of falling backwards.

CRASH. The hat slid off his face, and Albus saw himself lying on the ground with the stool on its side. He realized he must have fallen off. Laughter filled the hall.

Blushing furiously, Albus picked up the stool and sat on it, and then pulled the hat over his head.

“You fell of the stool?” the hat said in surprise. “Perhaps Hufflepuff would be a good place to put you…”

Not that either! Gryffindor please! Not Slytherin, either, he thought.

“Slytherin would be a good place to put you, are you certain? Very talented, a great destiny awaits you, that is the qualities that Salazar Slytherin liked...but on the other hand, very, very brave, even if you probably don’t know it yet…”

Please don’t put me in Slytherin, put me in Gryffindor…PLEASE!

“Why do you dislike Slytherin?” the hat asked.

A million things popped into Al’s head at once- horrible rumors about Slytherins, Voldemort being in Slytherin, Slytherins being Gryffindor’s enemy, almost all of the death eaters being in Slytherin, the list went on and on and on.

“I see.”  the sorting hat said. “It’s near a tie between Slytherin and Gryffindor…well...I guess...hmm…maybe…GRYFFINDOR!”

The last word the hat shouted to everyone, and Gryffindor table broke into cheers. James grinned wildly at Albus, and Al sat down. All of his cousins shook his hand, which took a while since he had so many cousins. A wash of relief passed over him. He had been put in Gryffindor! HE HAD BEEN PUT IN GRYFFINDOR! A part of him was still nagging that the sorting hat wanted to put him in Slytherin, but at least he had been in Gryffindor.

“You fell off the stool!” James whispered happily. “I think that’s a Hogwarts record!” James stared at Albus in awe. “You’ve only been here not even an hour, and you already broke a record!”

“Great,” he muttered, staring at his empty plate. He was very hungry; the chocolate frogs were now a distant memory. He tried to pay attention to the sorting ceremony and ignore the growls of his stomach. After a long time to his stomach, he finally heard the name he was waiting for.

“Weasley, Rose!”

Albus eagerly sat up, and watched Rose step up to the stool, and place the hat on her head. Albus thought she looked very brave, braver than him at least. She was definitely going to be in Gryffindor.

Sure enough, seconds later, the hat shouted, “Gryffindor!” Rose came walking over, a huge smile on her face. She sat next to Albus.

“Good job,” Albus whispered to her, carefully to make sure they wouldn’t get in trouble by Professor Fuchs.

“The sorting hat at first considered putting me in Ravenclaw,” Rose admitted. “But then it quickly realized that I was a Gryffindor.”

By then they heard the last name being called.

“Zick, Agnes!”

After Agnes had been made a Ravenclaw, a very short man who had mostly white hair called, “I will make my proper speech after you eat. I see some hungry faces! Eat!”

Albus gasped, because in front of him appeared all sorts of different types of foods. “Wow,” whispered the boy sitting next to him. “I didn’t it appeared in front of you like that!”

Al looked at the boy closer, and realized that he was the one he sat next to on the canoe. “Aren’t you the one I sat next to in the canoe?” he asked.

The boy muttered, “Yes,” Albus glanced at the boy curiously.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Arthur Gambeski. But you can call me Art,” he replied, grinning at Albus half- heartedly.

Al searched through his brain for that name. “Gambeski…Gambeski…never heard of that name before,”

“It’s actually Polish. I’m-I’m muggle-born,” Art whispered, more to the ground than Albus.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” replied Al. “My dad was raised by muggles.”

“And my mother is muggle-born,” added Rose. Al nearly jumped out of his seat, because he didn’t know Rose was listening.  Art suddenly looked much more confident.

“I’m so confused about everything! Everything here is strange,” commented Art.

“You’ll learn soon enough,” Rose assured Art.

“What are your names anyway?” asked Arthur.

“My name is Rose Weasley,” answered Rose. “And his name is Albus Potter, but he is also known as Al. We’re cousins.” added Rose, pointing at Albus.

Arthur’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Albus Potter?” he exclaimed. “Harry Potter’s son!”

“Yeah,” muttered Albus, now he was staring at the floor. He hated people staring at him when they found out he was Harry Potter’s son. They would always gape at him, and it made Al feel awkward.

“I’ve heard a quite a bit about him. He killed this really dark wizard. I don’t even know what his name is. Everyone is always referring to him as You-Know-Who, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“His name is Voldemort,” Albus threw out casually. “My dad is one of the few people who says his name.”

“Anyway, enough about us. What about you?” Rose asked.

“As I told you, I’m muggle-born, and I live on a small farm with my parents and my three older brothers. Their names are Ben, Clinton, and Kyle. I’m the youngest, and I’m also the only wizard. Ben is- ahhhhh!” Art gave out a small scream and fell of his chair. A ghost had come over to where Art was sitting.

“Oh dear,” whispered the ghost. “What did I do?”

Art continued to stare at the ghost in horror and Rose said, “Oh, muggles think ghosts are bad. Art, get up, that ghosts are bad thing you learned is rubbish. It’s just muggle nonsense.” Rose held out her hand and pulled Arthur up.

“Muggles think ghosts are bad? Hmph! What an insult!” exclaimed the ghost.

“Who are you anyway?” Al asked him.

“I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington,” He said, puffing his chest out proudly. “I am the current ghost of Gryffindor tower.”

“Wait a minute, aren’t you Nearly Headless Nick?” asked Rose. “If you are, then I’ve heard about you.”

“Well, I’d, prefer if I’m known as Sir Nicholas,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Rose. “It must be awful to have a nickname like that.”

“Can you please take your head off for us?” said a grinning blonde- haired boy further down the table.

He sighed deeply, and swung his head of mostly, until it dangled. There was a small amount of skin, perhaps half an inch thick, connecting his head to the rest of his body. He stared at it, horrified. He now saw perfectly well why he was called Nearly Headless Nick.

After Nick glided away, Al and Art began to talk to the other 3 boys at the table. Marc Mysticus was also a muggle-born.

“My parents and I live in a townhouse on the outskirts of London. I’m an only child,” said Marc, before burying himself in Transfiguration Mistakes: The Book With Some of the Funniest Mistakes When Practicing Transfiguration.

“He’s really into little facts in books like that,” said the boy sitting next to Marc. He had sleek and shiny black hair and glasses. “I think he’s er-“ -the kid quickly looked over to make sure Marc wasn’t listening- “Is sort of a geek. I’m very surprised he got put in Gryffindor.”

Al thought Marc looked a little geeky too; he was wearing very round glasses and his reddish- brown hair was a bit spiky.

“Do you know him?” Al asked the kid.

“Just met him on the train. He barely talked to me. Buried himself into that book the entire time.”

“What is your name anyway?” Al asked the kid.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I’m Robert Kim, but just call me Rob,”  he replied. “And you are?”

“Albus Potter,” he said in a barely audible whisper. “But you can call me Al.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” said Rob, shaking his hand. Al was surprised and pleased that Rob didn’t look shocked. 

“Were you born into a family of wizards?” Al asked him.

Rob nodded. “We live in a huge house in Northern England, even though it’s just me and my two sisters.

Albus looked away, and saw Art laughing with this other boy at Gryffindor table. Art had a black eye.

“Art!” Al exclaimed. “What happened?”

Art picked up a telescope with a fist hanging out of it, and said, “David tricked me into looking into the punching telescope.”


“I’m David, David Haid.” said the kid who had been laughing with Art.  He was that blonde- haired kid who had asked Nick to pull his head off.

Rose stared at Art’s black eye, and said, “Wow that-“, but was interrupted by all the plates and food disappearing.

Silence spread throughout the great hall. All of the eyes in the hall looked at the front of the hall. The old short man from before climbed up to the podium, which had been lowered since he was so tiny, and skimmed his eyes through the hall.

Finally put a huge smile on and squeaked, “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! As most of you already know, I am Professor Filius Flitwick. I am absolutely delighted to make this a wonderful new year as my first year as headmaster!”

Cheers broke out from every side of the room. He guessed Professor Flitwick was pretty popular.

He heard an older student boast to his friend. “My father was one of his favorite students. Professor Flitwick is part-goblin, did you know that? He also was in the Battle of Hogwarts, and actually witnessed You-Know-Who dying. Cool, Eh?”

Albus felt as that kid was talkative on a regular basis, and he suddenly noticed the other kids weren’t really listening to the kid, and where rolling their eyes at each other.

He looked back at Professor Flitwick, and he watched the students and the hall slowly went silent.

“I have been asked by Mr. Filch, our caretaker, that the list has been extended to nine hundred and sixty-nine banned items, so you might want to look at the list, which is on the door of Mr. Filch’s office. Also, no student is allowed inside the Dark forest. Good night to you all. Prefects, please lead all the first years in your house to the house common room and dormitories.”  He squeaked this out so quietly, it was a good thing the hall was silent.

“First years! Over here!” he saw a boy call out at the front of the table. Albus, Rose, and Art nervously walked up to them along with the other first years in Gryffindor house.

“Follow me please.” said the girl next to the boy.

“They must be the prefects,” whispered Rose. Albus nodded, since they looked about the right age. He knew prefects at Hogwarts got nominated in their fifth year, and got extra duties. Funnily enough, his dad was never a prefect. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione often teased his dad about it, since they were. Albus watched as the prefects lead them out of the hall, and up some stairs. He saw Art was gawking at everything as they walked past, especially the portraits.

“This school is amazing, isn’t it?” Albus sighed happily.

“I still can’t get over the fact that the pictures move. Of course, videos are close to it, but the portraits don’t move.” whispered Art.

“What are videos?” Albus asked Art. He never heard of this video thing . He assumed it was a Muggle invention.

“They are like moving pictures except- oh, how do you put this- they help tell a story, but uh, they don’t know you're there, and they just replay over and over again. Our normal pictures don’t move at all.” explained Art.

“So your normal pictures don’t move? They’re just frozen?” said Al in disbelief.


Albus couldn’t believe there was such a thing where pictures didn’t move. Didn’t the people in the pictures get tired of standing still all the time?

“I brought some pictures with me in my trunk. Would you like to see them?” Art asked.

“Sure!” exclaimed Albus. He wanted to see these standing still picture things for himself.

When they got up to a corridor on the 7th floor, the prefects stopped. Albus and everyone else looked around, and there was a portrait of a very fat woman.

“Password?” she asked.

“Fortissimi leonis,” responded the girl prefect.

The portrait opened up, and everyone climbed inside. They were in a cozy looking room, with Gryffindor hangings everywhere. There were a few cozy looking armchairs next to a fireplace. There were also some small tables; Albus assumed it was to do homework on. It was warm and welcoming, especially with a small fireplace and the fire crackling at the hearth.

“This is the Gryffindor common room,” said the boy prefect. “You can hang out in here in your free time. Boys, your dormitories are up on the left, and the girls' are on the right.”

Albus, Art, Marc, Rob, and David climbed the winding staircase up to a small room with five four-poster beds. Their trunks were already up there, and Al settled everything on one of the beds, right next to Arthur’s bed. David had given Art this paste stuff for his eye, and the black eye was already disappearing.

“Hey, Albus?” said Art.


“Come over to my bed for a minute.”

Albus walked over to Art’s bed, and Arthur was holding a picture of a very nice couple, but they weren’t moving.

“So this is what muggle photos look like?” Al asked him.

“Yup. My dad is this one,” said Art, pointing to a tall man who had Art’s messy hair, “and this one is my mom.” Art pointed to a shorter woman with his face.

Albus stifled a yawn, and suddenly realized how tired he was. He got ready for bed, and when he was about to climb in bed, James burst into the room.

“Al, I have to show you something.” said James excitedly.

“Not now, I’m tired.”

“I can’t wait any longer!”

“Why couldn’t you show it to me on the train?”

“I forgot.”

Albus sighed, and muttered, “It better be quick.”

James whipped out a very old piece of parchment, and Albus stared at it. It said:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Surveyors of kids to Magical Mischief- Makers are proud to present

The Marauder’s Map

Underneath was scrawled “Edited by Harry Potter.”

“Dad’s Marauders Map!” yelled Albus in surprise. “How could you? It’s his most treasured possession! He’ll have a heart attack when he finds out it’s gone!”

Albus had always been fascinated about the Marauders Map. It was a map, created by Al’s grandfather and his friends. It showed every single secret passageway in and out of Hogwarts, but best of all, it showed where everyone was that very second. You could create tons of trouble with it. Albus’s dad told stories to Albus, James, and Lily how he, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione created tons of trouble with it. After the Battle of Hogwarts, his Dad had edited it because the castle had to be rebuilt on some parts, and because he wanted to add the Chamber of Secrets. But the map was one of his Dad’s most prized possessions. He couldn’t believe James had stole it.

James put on a nasty grin, and said, “Don’t you dare tell him. I nicked it out of his desk a couple weeks ago. But don’t you see? We’ll know where everyone in the castle is with this map, so we’ll know to go away. We can make as much trouble as we want,” James sighed, and said, ”Wish I could've nicked his invisibility cloak too.”

“I’m sending Dad an owl tomorrow morning.”

Unlike those odd muggles who wasted money on a postman, all letters in the wizarding world were sent and received by owls.

James put on a face, and said, “I’m not telling you anymore of my secrets again.” James stuck out his tongue and left.

Al sighed, his mind swimming with the events of that day. He pulled over the covers, fell asleep instantly, and began to dream about his day in Diagon Alley just over a week ago.


Please leave a review! Special Thanks to MargaretLane for reviewing all of my chapters so far!

The next chapter is a flashback on Albus's day at Diagon Alley.

Keep reading! :)

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