Morning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry arrived with a cold grey light filtering through the underwater windows of the Slytherin dormitory.
Albus Severus Potter had barely slept.
He lay awake long before the other students stirred, staring at the green-tinted ceiling above his bed. The lake water outside shifted slowly, casting moving shadows across the stone walls.
Everything felt strange.
Different.
Wrong.
Across the room, Scorpius Malfoy was still asleep, one arm hanging loosely off the bed. His pale blond hair stuck out in every direction.
For a moment, Albus envied him.
Scorpius always seemed calm, even when people whispered behind his back.
Albus didn't feel calm.
He felt watched.
---
Breakfast in the Great Hall was worse than he expected.
The massive chamber buzzed with conversation as hundreds of students gathered beneath the enchanted ceiling.
Floating candles drifted above long house tables.
The ceiling displayed a cloudy autumn sky.
Albus followed Scorpius toward the Slytherin table.
Immediately the whispers started again.
"That's him."
"Potter."
"In Slytherin."
"And the other one…"
"The Malfoy boy."
"The one they say is related to—"
Someone whispered the name again.
Lord Voldemort.
Scorpius pretended not to hear.
He sat down quietly and began buttering a piece of toast.
Albus dropped into the seat beside him.
At the far end of the hall, the Gryffindor table burst into laughter.
Albus glanced over.
James Potter was sitting there with his friends, looking perfectly comfortable.
Like he belonged.
Rose Granger-Weasley spotted Albus and waved politely.
But the distance between their tables felt enormous.
"Don't look," Scorpius muttered.
Albus blinked.
"What?"
"When people stare," Scorpius said calmly, "the worst thing you can do is notice."
Albus forced his eyes back to his plate.
"You're very good at pretending things don't bother you."
Scorpius shrugged.
"I've had practice."
---
Classes began immediately after breakfast.
The corridors of Hogwarts were confusing at first.
Staircases moved when you weren't looking.
Portraits whispered to each other.
Ghosts drifted silently through walls.
Their first class was Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the classroom, her sharp eyes scanning the students.
Minerva McGonagall had not lost her authority with age.
"Magic," she said sternly, "is not a game."
The lesson passed in a blur of concentration.
Albus struggled.
His matchstick refused to transform into a needle.
Scorpius succeeded on the second attempt.
McGonagall nodded approvingly.
"Excellent, Mr. Malfoy."
A few students whispered again.
Scorpius ignored them.
But Albus noticed something.
Scorpius might pretend not to care…
yet his shoulders tightened slightly every time someone mentioned his name.
---
That evening, Albus sat alone in the Slytherin common room with a piece of parchment.
A blank letter stared back at him.
He dipped his quill into ink.
Dear Dad,
He stopped.
The words felt wrong.
He scratched them out.
Dear Father,
No.
That felt worse.
He tried again.
Dear Harry,
Albus groaned softly and crumpled the parchment.
Across the room, Scorpius watched curiously.
"Writing home?"
Albus nodded.
"Trying to."
"What's the problem?"
Albus stared at the fire.
"I don't know what to say."
Scorpius walked over and sat beside him.
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "you could start with the truth."
Albus hesitated.
"The truth?"
"Yes."
Scorpius folded his arms.
"What's Hogwarts like for you so far?"
Albus looked around the green-lit room.
Students whispered nearby.
Some glanced in their direction.
He thought about the Great Hall.
The whispers.
The sorting.
The pressure.
"It's… difficult."
Scorpius nodded slowly.
"That sounds honest."
Albus sighed and picked up another piece of parchment.
He began writing.
Dear Dad,
Hogwarts is different than I expected. People keep staring at me because of my name. I'm trying to ignore it, but it's harder than I thought it would be…
His quill paused again.
Then he added quietly:
Sometimes I wish I wasn't Harry Potter's son.
Albus stared at the sentence.
For a long moment he considered crossing it out.
But he didn't.
He folded the letter slowly.
Across the room, Scorpius leaned back in his chair.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "our fathers were enemies once."
Albus blinked.
"Really?"
Scorpius smirked.
"You didn't know?"
Albus laughed.
"I mean… I knew. I just never thought about it."
Scorpius looked at the fire.
"Maybe we'll do better."
Albus smiled slightly.
"Maybe."
But neither of them noticed the owl perched silently on the windowsill.
It carried a letter from the Ministry of Magic.
A letter addressed to:
Harry Potter.
Inside the letter was information about a dangerous magical object that had recently been discovered.
A device capable of bending time itself.
A Time-Turner.
And far away, someone else had already begun planning how to steal it.
A woman with silver hair and a calm, patient smile.
Her name was Delphi.
Delphi.
---