Out of the Shadow

Author's Note: Luckily, that which I feared the most (either Harry, Ron, or Hermione dying) did not happen in Deathly Hallows. In fact, JKR gave us a whole new cast of characters to play with. I've wanted to write a post-Hogwarts fic for a while, so here's the beginning of the result -- I am at work at the second chapter, and hopefully, that will be finished soon as well. Anyway, I wanted to be one of the first people to post a next-gen fic on this site, heh. This one will switch between POVs of people at Hogwarts (probably Al[bus]) and people outside (probably Harry or Lily). I've read the epilogue through a few times, so hopefully this gets all the canon there right.

Also, this has been updated (less than a week after it was written, *grumble*) with the new canon info from JKR's interview.

Chapter One: The Sorting

"Cor, look at him!"

"He's enormous!"

Al and Rosie ignored the other first years, who were openly gaping at the giant figure of Hagrid in front of them, pushing past them to meet up with their parents' old friend. "Hello, Hagrid," said Al cheerfully. He had met Hagrid three times before - twice at birthday parties and once at a wedding.

"Hello, Al. Rosie." Hagrid beamed down at them. "Keep close to me now; I'm supposed to lead yeh to the boats."

James passed with his friends. He poked Al hard in the ribs. "Hey!" Al cried, scowling at his older brother.

"Ready to face the troll?" his brother replied, smirking.

Al felt his stomach sink as he remembered what James had been saying he would have to battle to be Sorted into a house. According to James, if you defeated the troll in a particularly impressive manner - which only the best students could do, naturally - you got into Gryffindor. If you defeated the troll in a clever way, you were a Ravenclaw, and if you defeated the troll through perseverance and determination, you were a Hufflepuff. If you screamed like a girl and ran away, James said, you became a Slytherin. Of course, there was the Sorting Hat, but James said that was just a formality, something to announce your house after your victory or retreat from the troll.

His parents had told him to ignore his brother, but Al wondered if they were just trying to make him feel better. He had no problem picturing both of them battling and winning over the troll. He was sure his dad had Stunned the troll on his own, without any help or trouble, and he could see his mother hexing the troll until it gave up.

To his relief, Al was saved from having to reply by his cousin Victoire, who was just passing by. Victoire was Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur's daughter. She was a very pretty girl with reddish blonde hair, and she was this year's Head Girl. "Stop spouting nonsense, James," she snapped as she dragged a protesting James away. James's friends snickered and winked at Al before following.

"Don' worry," said Hagrid. "There's no troll. Jus' the Sorting Hat."

Al nodded glumly, his excitement over finally going to Hogwarts diminishing again. Somehow, that wasn't very comforting either. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account, his dad had said. But he didn't want to choose in front of an enormous crowd of people, he had realized on the train ride to Hogwarts.

As soon as all the first years had huddled together on the platform behind Al and Rosie, Hagrid led them down a long path to the edge of a lake, where a fleet of boats waited. "Four to a boat," Hagrid informed them, before getting into his own boat. Al and Rosie clambered into a boat and were joined by the pale boy whose father Ron had pointed out at King's Cross and a skinny boy with horn-rimmed glasses.

"I've read so much about Hogwarts," said the boy with the glasses. "I can't believe we're finally here." The boats began to glide through the lake, and everyone in the boat gasped as Hogwarts came into view.

"No wonder Mum and Dad never took us here," said Rosie. "They wanted us to see it first like this."

"Are you twins?" asked the boy with glasses.

"No, he's my cousin," replied Rosie. Al was too queasy thinking about the Sorting to answer. "I'm Rose, by the way. Rosie, usually. And he's Al."

"Luke." He paused. "Are your parents wizards?"

"Yeah. My dad is an Auror. He plays reserve Keeper for the Cannons on the side for a while in his late teens, after the war, and he still likes to talk about it. My mum works for the Department of Law Enforcement. She's an expert on wizarding law."

"What about you?" Luke asked Al.

Al fidgeted. He didn't like talking about his parents, since everyone always wanted to know all about them and never about him when they found out. It was selfish, Al knew, since his parents had done great things, but he couldn't help it. "My dad works as an Auror too. My mum works at the WWN and writes a bit." He did not mention that his dad was head of the Auror Department or that his mother was co-host of WizardChat, a popular show, with Lee Jordan and the author of a best-selling series of books for modern witches.

"I've read about the Ministry of Magic," was Luke's reply. "Your dads work there, then? What's the WWN?"

"You're Muggle-born?" It was more of a statement than a question. To Rosie, who practically worshipped her aunt, anyone who didn't know what the WWN was had to be a Muggle or Muggle-born. Luke nodded. "WWN stands for 'Wizarding Wireless Network.' It's our radio system. Aunt Ginny is co-host of WizardChat, one of my favorite programs."

"You don't have television?"

"Television?" Rosie looked confused for a second. "Oh, you mean those things Muggles watch? Mum bought us one a while ago, but Dad, Hugo, and I don't understand a lot of what they're talking about. I like the wireless better."

Luke turned to the last boy in their boat. "Hello. What's your name?"

"Scorpius," said the boy, looking down at his shoes. He seemed to be even more afraid than Al was.

"That's a wicked name," said Luke. "I suppose your parents are wizards too?"

Scorpius merely nodded and did not offer any details. The boats reached the opposite shore, and the four of them got out, Luke and Rosie chatting merrily, Al and Scorpius trailing them silently. Hagrid led them up the steps of the castle, and then knocked three times on the giant oak doors.

"I've got them from here, Hagrid," said a friendly man's voice when the door opened. Neville - Professor Longbottom, Al corrected himself - stood there, smiling down at the first years. Hagrid waved and squeezed himself past them in order to join everyone else at the feast. Neville brought them into a small chamber to the side of the Great Hall. Al could hear voices through the wall as the rest of the school chattered and caught up with each other. Neville explained the house system and then told them, "In a moment, I will bring you into the Great Hall to be Sorted. Wait here," before going through the door at the end of the chamber.

"I hope I get Gryffindor," said Rosie. "Mum and Dad were both in Gryffindor."

"I like Ravenclaw," said Luke. "They sound like the most intelligent of the lot. No offense," he added quickly.

"None taken. They are the most intelligent. Usually," said Rosie. "The Sorting Hat almost wanted to put my mum in Ravenclaw..."

Luke, it appeared, had read about the Sorting Hat, and the two set to discussing the history of the hat. Up until now, Rosie and Hermione had been the only two people Al had known that had read Hogwarts, a History, but Luke's revelation that he too had read it probably cemented his friendship with Rosie. Al felt slightly jealous that someone else had so quickly become friends with his best friend and cousin.

Several people gasped when a large group of pearly-white ghosts floated through the wall, talking amongst themselves. Some of the ghosts smiled reassuringly at the first years, and one, a fat friar, waved cheerfully at them. They passed through the opposite wall into the Great Hall.

A boy next to Al shivered. "I don't like ghosts much," he confided to him. He was good-looking, with dark skin the color of milk chocolate and slightly slanted eyes.

The door to the chamber opened, and Neville poked his head in. "They're ready for you," he announced, grinning as he opened the door wider. The first years streamed into the Great Hall, and Al knew he wasn't the only one feeling terribly nervous now.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him. James winked as Al found his face at the Gryffindor table, and despite his brother's teasing earlier, Al felt his nervousness abate a little. After all, his brother had gone through the same thing the year before. Everyone here had been Sorted.

The Sorting Hat sat incongruously on a three-legged stool in front of the house tables. There were no trolls in sight, and Al felt slightly better since he no longer needed to put on the hat and battle a troll.

The students quieted. The hat opened its brim and began to sing:

A thousand Sortings I have seen,

A thousand years I have lived.

Your mind too I will glean,

Like the thousands before who have thus bid.

Will you be a Gryffindor,

Brave, daring, from the heart?

Those qualities of yours will soar

If destiny wills a Gryffindor start.

Will you be a Slytherin,

Ambitious, cunning to the core?

If hearing these, a bell within you ring

You will be led to a Slytherin door.

Will you be a Ravenclaw,

Home of wit and learning?

Where books fill an entire hall

And where knowledge will sing.

Will you be a Hufflepuff,

Loyal and true?

Your heart be made of sterner stuff

Than anything, through and through.

So put me on,

Don't hesitate.

I Sort all into their rightful place -

Let your story begin.

The students and teachers burst into applause before quieting when Neville ascended the platform. "When I call your name," he said, unrolling a scroll, "come up and put the hat on. Adelaide, Lawrence!"

Lawrence Adelaide was on the stool for about ten seconds before the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" and one of the tables roared with applause. The first year made his way sheepishly toward them, his shoulders clearly free of worry now that the worst was over.

Al watched as others were Sorted, his stomach feeling tenser and tenser. Truthfully, he didn't feel like a Gryffindor. Although he looked a lot like his father, Al did not feel as if bravery was his greatest trait. Being daringly brave - like James - made him feel like he would be nothing more than a clone of his father, and that everyone would see him that way. He didn't want to live in his father's shadow, and he felt like he had a worse time of it than James, as everyone automatically recognized him, Al, as Harry Potter's son, since he was the only one to inherit his father's recognizable face. And yet... Rosie was going to be a Gryffindor. James was a Gryffindor. Everyone in his family was a Gryffindor, and Al didn't want to be different that much, did he?

"Harrods, Luke" became a Ravenclaw, as he had wanted. Luke made his way toward the Ravenclaw table, beaming. Al sank back into his whirling thoughts until Neville called, "Malfoy, Scorpius!" and several people began to whisper as Scorpius left Al's side. He looked rather green.

Scorpius sat on the stool for a full minute, getting greener and greener, until he looked like he would be sick. Finally, the hat cried, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Neville took the hat, looking slightly shaken, as Scorpius, wincing made his way to the shocked-looking Hufflepuffs.

"A Malfoy in Hufflepuff?" whispered Rosie to Al.

Al shrugged. His parents sometimes talked about Draco Malfoy, but never to Al. He had sounded important, but Harry and Ginny never told Al why. One day, Al and James, fed up with trying to worm information out of their parents, bribed the then sixteen-year-old Teddy to tell them. Teddy had told them that Malfoy wasn't really important, per se, but he and his parents had been Death Eaters during the war. According to Teddy, Draco Malfoy had realized during the war that being a Death Eater was not glamorous or exciting, like he had thought it would be, and that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had saved him twice during the Battle of Hogwarts. Teddy had also whispered that Narcissa Malfoy had, in a way, saved Harry's life in some way.

The Malfoys were historically a Dark family, Slytherin for generations, though Draco's wife, Lavender, was an old classmate of Al's parents and a former Gryffindor. Rosie knew a bit more about the family than Al, as Ron had a tendency to crow over old stories involving Malfoy and their school days.

"His dad's not going to be happy," said the boy next to Al.

"Why not?"

"My dad is a friend of Mr. Malfoy's. He says that Mr. Malfoy knew that Scorpius would end up in Hufflepuff, but that Mr. Malfoy thinks it's embarrassing."

"How awful." Al suddenly realized that his family would not see him differently even if he ended up a Slytherin. He glanced around at all the people he knew in the Great Hall. Flitwick, the headmaster, gave him a small smile. Rosie... Neville... James... Victoire... Lucy, Percy and Penelope's daughter... there was Uncle George, the Charms professor... Cho, one of his dad's friends and the Transfiguration professor... none of them would truly care if he ended up in a house other than Gryffindor. Well, Rosie would be disappointed, but Al knew she would accept it.

And with that thought, Al heard his own name. "Potter, Albus!"

The whispers started up again. Al saw James glaring at the people around him at the Gryffindor table, trying to make them stop whispering, before the hat dropped over his eyes. "Ah, so you're Albus Severus," said the hat. "Quite a name to live up to, though you know that, of course."

"My dad said they named me after two headmasters."

The hat chuckled. "Yes, they did. How ambitious. And how fitting. You are quite ambitious, I see. Not content to live in your father's shadow, of course, and his is a very big shadow. Ah, so he did tell you I almost Sorted him into Slytherin. Yes, you two are very much alike; I can see how hard it will be for you to make your own way."

"Sir," said Al, feeling slightly foolish at addressing the hat like this, "do you think you could tell me where I really want to go? I don't really know myself..."

"Such knowledge is often elusive to your own self; that is true," agreed the hat. "But you have no qualms about what your family and friends might think?"

Al had the feeling the hat already knew what his father had said on the platform. "No," he replied. "I know they'll think of me the same way no matter where I go."

"Yes, Albus Severus Potter, you are a lucky boy, to have such people in your life." The hat paused. "It is a hard decision, to be honest. As the son of Harry Potter, you do possess that reckless bravery within you, though you may not believe it now. Your mind is good, and you are very loyal to your family and friends. Yet over all that, I see a desire to break free of your father's shadow..."

"-- then Slytherin house will have gained an excellent student, won't it?" His father's voice rang in his mind.

"Yes, it will have," said the hat quietly. "So, Albus Severus Potter, you will go down the path of your second namesake. SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table applauded raucously, having won a celebrity's son. A few of them appeared to be doing so only because their neighbors were, but Al ignored them as he made his way to his new table, choosing instead to look at his family. Rosie looked confused and disappointed, but she smiled at him when she noticed his glance. James looked gobsmacked, but he was clapping anyway. Victoire was smiling to herself, as if she had known all along.

The euphoric feeling wore off slightly as the Sorting continued, and Al hoped that he had been right in his assumption that his family would see him the same way no matter what. Rosie went to the Gryffindor table, as expected. The last boy, the boy Al had been talking to in line, was finally called. "Zabini, Hayden!"

Hayden Zabini became a Slytherin as well. He took his seat next to Al. "You didn't say you were Harry Potter's son."

Al shrugged. Flitwick stood to give a speech, and the hall quieted. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he said, smiling at them cheerfully. "I hope you all had a good holiday, for there is much to learn this year. A few notices: Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has posted up another list of forbidden objects on his door. Also, Professor Chang has agreed to start a Wizards' Chess Club, which will meet this Friday for anyone who is interested. Finally, our flying instructor, Madam Hooch, felt it was time to retire, so I would like to welcome Mr. Oliver Wood, who retired from Puddlemere United last season, as our new instructor."

There was a roar of approval at the appointment of a professional Quidditch player as flying instructor. Several of the older Slytherins looked disappointed, as only first years took flying lessons.

"And now," said Flitwick, once the applause had died down, "it is time for the feast."

The table was suddenly laden with food. Al gazed hungrily at all of it; he had not realized how hungry he had been. He grabbed a little bit of everything before digging in with relish.

"So, Albus, right?" said Hayden Zabini in between mouthfuls of chicken.

"Yeah, but everyone calls me Al." It was time to make friends with someone other than Rosie, Al realized. Another thing he had not foreseen - he had been relying on Rosie to make friends with people so that he too could meet them. Rosie was good at picking out people who wouldn't be too in awe with Al's name to actually be friends.

"How boring," said Hayden. "At least be called 'Albus.'"

Al shook his head. "I dunno. It makes me sound like an old man. Maybe it's because my parents only knew him as headmaster of Hogwarts."

"What's your middle name, then? Maybe that's more exciting."

"Severus."

"After Severus Snape?" Snape's story, thanks in part to Al's father, had become legend. "He was a Slytherin. That's a much better name. I think I'll call you 'Sev,'" said Hayden, his eyes daring Al to argue.

Al shrugged. He didn't mind. After all, he was a Slytherin now, and it seemed oddly fitting that the Slytherins call him that. "Do you support a Quidditch team?" he asked.

"Yeah. Falmouth Falcons. You?"

"My uncles are all giant Cannons fans. But Dad and I support Puddlemere United. Dad's old friends with Oliver Wood."

Hayden looked impressed. "I bet Wood will favor you awfully in flying lessons."

"No, I don't think so. Dad says he's got a terrible suspicion of anything Slytherin, left from the days when they played Quidditch together in school."

"So what's it like, being Harry Potter's son?" At this, every head around them snapped up to listen.

"Erm, well..." Al said uncomfortably. This was undesirable territory. "It's not really that different, I suppose. Mum and Dad work like everyone else. When we were little, Dad's godson, Teddy, would baby-sit all of us. I've got an older brother, James, and a little sister, Lily."

"But... he's Harry Potter!" said a boy whose name, Al remembered from the Sorting, was Stephen Montague.

"Yes, but he's my dad," replied Al, slightly more testily than he had wanted. "I've gone on holiday with him and seen him gawking at everything he saw like every other tourist. He taught me how to fly. He and Mum argue like everyone else. He gets mad at James and me all the time, since we're always fighting."

Al found himself bombarded with questions throughout the rest of the meal, although Hayden informed him that he was lucky he was in Slytherin, as Slytherins weren't all as Potter-worshipping as other houses. The questions ranged from things Al was used to answering ("Isn't your mum co-host of WizardChat?") to the incredibly strange ("Does your dad put his left leg or his right leg through his trousers first?"). He answered them all as best he could, except for the trousers one, to which he replied with only a confused blink.

"All right, all right, settle down, and let the man eat his dinner in peace," said Hayden finally. He seemed to have appointed himself as Al's agent or something. The other Slytherins grumbled and moved away. "Sorry I started all that."

"It's all right. It happens everywhere."

"I suppose you're sick of it all." Hayden studied him for a moment. "You know, I always thought you would be really arrogant and a shoo-in for Gryffindor."

"Everyone does." Al found he didn't mind; Hayden was being honest.

"Dad doesn't like your dad much," Hayden admitted. "They weren't friends at school. Dad was actually friends with Draco Malfoy, who was your dad's rival at school. But you seem all right. And I mean, your dad beat Voldemort... He was the master of the Elder Wand, like in The Tale of the Three Brothers."

The puddings, tarts, cakes, and sweets all disappeared off the table, and everyone was standing to leave. "First years over here," said a tall, bored-looking prefect. Al and Hayden made their way toward him. They waited by the doors for the other first year Slytherins.

James clapped his hand on Al's shoulder as he passed. "I suppose you ran from the troll," he said, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

"Screaming like a girl," said Al, smirking back at him.

"You're happy, though, right? Got friends yet? I bet you ten Sickles that you don't."

"You owe him ten Sickles," piped Hayden. Al felt a pleased feeling in his chest. He had a friend. And not one that Rosie had found him.

James sighed theatrically. "Fine. I'll give them to you when we go home."

"What about the pocket money Mum gave you?" asked Al.

"Spent it at Uncle Percy and Uncle George's shop." After the death of Al's uncle Fred during the war, Percy, who had resigned from the Ministry, had joined George at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. They had run the shop together for ten years, George doing the majority of the inventing and Percy taking care of most of the paperwork, until George had accepted a job at Hogwarts. Now, during the year, Percy ran the shop and did some inventing of his own during the school year, while George pretended to have turned mature - though everyone knew he was still inventing - and they ran the shop together in the summer.

Al rolled his eyes. "Typical."

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to go easy on you, Slytherin, just because you're my baby sister's older brother."

"Why not just say 'brother?'"

"Because you're a Slytherin, so I can't directly name you as my brother anymore." James smirked.

"Yeah... you're mad."

"Glad to hear it." James clapped him on the back again, then left the Great Hall.

"You don't look very much alike," said Hayden as the prefect led them out of the Great Hall and towards a flight of stairs that led downward.

"James looks like my mum's family. He's got my dad's build and his nose, and that's about it. I look a lot like my dad."

"What about your sister?"

"Same as James. Except Dad says she looks a bit like my grandmother on his side. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No," said Hayden. "I'm the only one."

"Lucky. They're fun sometimes, but it's not worth it. Though my mum grew up with six brothers, which must have been worse."

They stopped in front of a blank stone wall. "Lethifold," said the prefect, and the wall slid aside, revealing a common room. Everything was green-tinged, and Al realized they were underneath the lake. There were several skulls around the room.

"Yeah... Dad told me about the skulls," whispered Hayden, as it didn't feel proper to talk loudly in this common room. "They're completely fake. The Slytherins have a flair for the dramatic."

"Boys' dormitories are on your left. Girls to the corridor on your right," said the prefect. "I'm Joseph Nott, Slytherin prefect, by the way, if you require assistance." With that he left them, slipping an arm around a girl his age, who giggled.

"Come on, Sev," said Hayden, leading the first year boys down a dim corridor lined with torches in the shape of snake heads. They stopped at a door marked "First Year Boys." Hayden pushed it open, revealing a large, cavernous room. The ceiling was vaulted, and the windows were all very high. The room was lit by torches and the eerie green light coming in through the windows. Al could have sworn he saw a grindylow swim past.

He found his trunk next to a bed with green hangings. Hayden was next to him, and a boy called Louis Higgs was on Hayden's other side. Their other three dorm mates, Stephen Montague, Neil McLaggen, and Oliver Belby, were in beds across from them. All of the other boys shot Al covert looks as they unpacked.

Finally, Neil spoke. "I thought your name was Albus?"

"Yeah, but his middle name's so much cooler," replied Hayden, clearly pleased that he knew something the others didn't. "It's so much more Slytherin."

"So that's why you call him 'Sev?'" said Stephen.

"Yeah."

"Neil McLaggen, by the way," said Neil, shaking Al's hand. "Nice to meet you, Sev. My dad knows your uncle. They work in the same department at the Ministry. Magical Games and Sports."

"Oh. He doesn't really talk about your dad..." said Al. Everyone always expected him to know of someone they knew.

"They were in the same house at school, actually. My dad substituted for your uncle during one of the Gryffindor Quidditch games when your uncle was ill."

Al vaguely remembered Ron telling him the story of the one time he had been in the hospital wing during a Quidditch match. Harry had told him soon after to shut up, because that had been the same game that the acting Keeper had hit a bludger by accident at his head. Al decided not to mention this. Instead, he smiled and nodded.

"My dad knows your dad. Sat with him in the same compartment on the way to Hogwarts once," said Oliver, elbowing Neil aside. "They were both in Slughorn's Slug Club."

Al shook his hand but did not comment. His parents had mentioned Slughorn and his club once, and James was apparently a part of it, but his dad never mentioned someone called Belby.

"My dad played Seeker against yours in his seventh year. Still can't get over the fact that a first year beat him," said Louis, grinning. "I hope you're good at Quidditch, Potter, because I want Slytherin to win."

"That would be wicked if they let a first year onto the team," said Hayden.

The other boys began discussing Quidditch, and Al took the opportunity to write a letter to his parents and Lily. His stomach churned the entire time; he had no doubt his father would be supportive of his new house, but he worried about everyone else's reactions despite himself.

Author's Note: So... what do you think?

First off, I could not resist giving Blaise's son that name. "Hayden" is, I believe, a boys' name usually, but I know a girl of that name too. I toyed with "Morgan" for a while as well, but felt that in the wizarding world, "Morgan" would be too indicative of "Morgana." Also, I decided to make Scorpius a bit different from what we all think he is. I actually see him as a Slytherin, but writing him as a bit of a wet blanket was kind of fun. Same thing with Al... I've decided that the plot of this fic will not involve a Dark wizard, as we've all seen enough of those. I'll find something else to write about.

The Slytherin boys are quite friendly now, but not all is what it seems at the moment. My goal is to make the Slytherins human: not completely nice, but not evil, as they seem to be bordering in canon.

Please review!