IT'S FINISHED! You don't know just how good it feels to finally check that "complete" box.
I apologise for how horridly my update rate slowed throughout the course of the story. I found an e-mail between myself and Erik where I promised him it would be finished by the beginning of the school year... yeah right.
Now's the bit where I get to thank everyone who I can possibly think of, and you can be nice and read it or skip to the story. First and foremost, an enormous thank you to the plethora of betas who went through this story. Without Erik, Helen, Stacy, and Fresca, this would be nothing but an incomprehensible string of misspelled words. Thank you all for being amazing! Another big thanks goes to all my friends who read fanfic: Claire and Caroline, for being the inspiration for more Rose/Miri conversations than they know, Stephanie for constantly asking me to update, Jonathan for being a wall upon which to bounce off ideas, and everyone else who read it and left comments. And of course, thank you, my readers. The 98 people who have put this among their favorites, all those who have left reviews or ratings, the people who nominated this story for a DSTA, and those of you who just read it. Thank you!
And now, without further ado, the last chapter...
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The Next Generation | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/PM Characters:None Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 202 Summary: “I won’t! I won’t be a Slytherin!” So says the youngest son of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley just before he leaves for his first year at Hogwarts. Albus Severus Potter’s worst nightmare is to be sorted into Slytherin, house of the Dark wizards. Despite reassurances from his father, he still worries that it might come true… and it does. How does little Al cope with being a Slytherin? And can his family accept it? *This is actually a H/G story, although it doesn't sound like it from this summary* Hitcount: Story Total: 55833; Chapter Total: 3856 Author's Notes: |
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It was strange, to Al, to be waking up in his own room. True, he had slept there most of his life. He was surrounded by the familiar Quidditch posters hanging on walls covered in old sky-blue paint, the tall bookshelves full of all his old favourites, and his various possessions scattered around the bed. His cat was back in her usual spot, curled up next to him and purring. But it still seemed unfamiliar. Hogwarts had become usual, familiar, homey to Al. Not just that, but the Slytherin dormitory now seemed more natural than his very own room. It felt odd, not waking up to the sound of other boys laughing and talking, scribbling last minute essays for their first class, getting ready for a day filled with magic. His musings were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, and Al smiled. Though it felt strange to be home, it was very nice to have his mother come in with a smile and a warm hug to wake him up. It was nice to know that his breakfast would be prepared especially for him, instead of mass produced for hundreds of students. “Come in, Mum,” he called out. The door swung open to reveal James. “I’m not Mum,” he said, scowling. Despite the look on his brother’s face, Al’s insides grew happily warm at the sight of his brother. Although his tone was annoyed, James had spoken to him! And of his own free will, too. There were no expectant friends or parents pushing him to say something. Al just hoped that James wasn’t coming to yell at him again. But his fears proved ungrounded as James walked over and sat next to Al on his bed. His movements were stiff and awkward, as if he was unsure of what he was doing, but there was otherwise very little sign of any lingering anger at his brother. James stayed silent for a minute, but just as Al was beginning to wonder why he had come into the room if he was just intending to sit there, James began to speak. “This is going to sound kind of stupid,” he began, “but I guess that’s as it should be. ‘Cause I’ve been kind of stupid.” His brow twitched slightly, as if the words were excruciatingly hard to say. Even so, Al could hardly believe what he was hearing. Was his brother, always so proud, going to admit that he was wrong? Did he have regrets about ignoring his brother for months? “How so?” Al asked cautiously. “Slytherin is, well, different from Gryffindor,” James said carefully, only barely acknowledging the question. A touch of apprehension rose in Al, but he forced himself to repress it, trying to believe that his brother was ready to make amends. He need not have worried. “That doesn’t mean that it’s bad,” James continued. “I’ve realised that. Not all Slytherins want a Dark Lord to rise, or all Muggleborns to die, or all people to have snakes as pets. In fact, most don’t want any of that.” He took a deep breath. “You certainly don’t.” A smile broke out on Al’s face, but James did not seem to be finished speaking. “Y’know, being brotherless is harder than you’d expect. It seemed so natural to ask how your day had been, or to share my letters from home with you… just things that brothers do. It was hard to look the other way when you passed in the hall. I’d have to force myself to think of Voldemort, Death Eaters, and all that.” “I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Al said, unsure of how to respond. Seeing his brother so open was unusual. Al wasn’t sure if he liked what he was hearing. But either way, his brother seemed to be trying to apologise, and that was certainly something that Al liked. James gave a grim sort of laugh. “It’s bad, I’d say. ‘Cause after thinking that, it was all too easy to think of you as just one of them: a nameless, faceless, monster who cared only for himself.” He sighed. “But, honestly, I was mad at you for more than that.” Al was sure that he was about to hear the real reason that James had distanced himself. He had never really thought that his brother could truly think him a Death Eater — there had to be something more. “It was like my little baby brother who’d always looked up to me had left me, for good. It was like you’d deserted me. I’d always imagined being the one to show you around Hogwarts, the one to help you when you got lost on your first day, the one to explain the secret passages and the moving stair cases, the one to introduce you to the ghosts… But that stupid hat stole that from me.” A lump rose in Al’s throat. It was touching to see this coming from his brother. He’d never known that he meant so much to James. Al had always thought that James pictured him as that annoying little sibling. This was probably the nicest thing James had ever said, and it made Al want to cry. He considered commenting on James’ sudden change in behavior, but then decided against it — he didn’t want to risk making James regret being open and sentimental. “But the point is, Al, I want my brother back,” James said, clearly suppressing emotion. “I’ve missed you, and I’m sick of ignoring you. I’m sick of hearing stories about noble Slytherins, or about people who became estranged from their family. And the thing is, I believe those stories. You’re certainly a noble Slytherin. And, no matter what, you are my family.” This was what Al had been waiting to hear, ever since the crushing moment when the Sorting Hat had deemed him Slytherin. His brother loved him. His brother always would love him. True, they would fight. But that was natural — brothers were created to fight. What mattered was that they were still brothers. Al reached over to hug his brother. It was an odd feeling — ever since James started Hogwarts, he’d cut back on hugging. But James enthusiastically returned the embrace. “James?” Al said softly. “I just hope you know, I never thought you’d actually leave me. I always knew you’d come back to be my brother again.” James pulled back. “Damn it, Al, you’re too nice,” he said, laughing. “You’re supposed to yell at me, to be mean, to make me feel as though I really did something wrong. You’re definitely not supposed to make me feel good.” Al grinned back. “Oh, you were wrong. There’s no doubt about that. But we’ve both been sorta miserable for the whole semester — can’t we do without that for a few days?” “I could live with that,” James said, smiling. “Are you done being sentimental? Because, brother dearest, it’s sort of starting to scare me.” James swatted at him playfully. “Don’t even start!” “And besides,” said Al, “I do know lots of ways to make you feel bad.” He gave a wicked sort of grin. James snorted. “I’m not so sure about that.” “Oh really? Has it escaped your notice that Slytherin is beating Gryffindor in Quidditch?” James moaned. “Don’t remind me. And it won’t last long!” “Sure. It’s not like Slytherin has the most promising team in years, or anything.” Al stood up and headed towards the door. It was time to get back to being ordinary brothers. That mushy, huggy stuff was all very well, but it just wasn’t normal. Talking about Quidditch was. “Oh, c’mon, it was Lila Anderson who said that. And she’s biased, ‘cause her brother’s on the team!” James followed him out. “We’ll see who’s saying what when Slytherin wins the Cup,” Al replied coolly as he went down the stairs. “Confident, aren’t you?” said James, following him out. “You shouldn’t be.” Lily came running up the stairs, and nearly crashed into Al. “There you are!” she said with exasperation. “I wanted to wake you up hours ago, but Mum said to let you sleep.” Al looked at James in confusion. “Why so impatient?” he asked. Lily rolled her eyes. “It’s Christmas!” Al gasped. “Merlin! It’s Christmas!” “Stop being a parrot and come downstairs! I want to open presents!” James shook his head in amazement. “I forgot about Christmas. I think it’s a sign of the Apocalypse.” “A pocket-what?” asked Lily. “Never mind,” asked Al. “It’s time for presents!” The three siblings ran down the stairs, laughing and chattering excitedly. They and their parents gathered around the Christmas tree, and began to exchange gifts. Harry and Ginny looked at their happy children, and without speaking, they knew that this was more important than the five hand-knitted jumpers from Mrs. Weasley. There was something much more valuable than the picture frame that Lily had painted for her mother, helped along by her father. And James’ and Al’s new Cannons shirts from their uncle just didn’t mean as much as the sight of the three children laughing together. Because, when it came down to it, family mattered more than anything. The past few months had been rough on the Potter family, but they were still a family, and so they had made it through. |
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