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    DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my plot



    A/n: Okay, I've just gotten back from a LONG break from writing and I hope you all enjoy this story, and that all my typos/grammar issues have been fixed. Yeah...







    Albus Severus Potter.


    Did you know that boys with unusual names are more likely to commit crimes in adolescence?


    Yeah, it’s true. So I’m starting to wonder where that leaves me, having a name like Albus Severus. If I had to guess what crime science tells me I’m going to commit, I’m thinking it will be the murder of my older brother James. Or maybe my cousin Rose, but I bet Rose would be more trouble than its worth going to Azkaban for. I can see it now:


    “Rose! Prepare to meet your maker!” My wand would floridly trace a figure eight in the air and I would point it right at her heart.


    She, of course, would sigh, “Albus, come on now! What have I taught you? Posture! Stand up straight! And you better say it with conviction! It’s pronounced A-va-da Ke-dav-ra. Okay. Go ahead, and keep your center of gravity balanced.”


    See? Not worth it. Anyway my point is that it isn’t easy having a name like Albus Severus Potter to live up to. My brother James has been trying to push me into my rebellious stage but I think all he really wants is my help pulling off his pranks. Rose on the other hand thinks my intelligence is wasted on such a prestigious name and that I should do my best to live up to it.


    Which apparently I’m not doing what with having a T in Arithmancy and all.


    The first time that I can remember becoming aware that my name would affect my life was Christmas when I was seven.


    “Open you’re gifts!” Mum was extremely excited, as she was every Christmas.


    Dad was still yawning and drinking his coffee.


    “Wait, wait, wait!” Mum stopped us just as James, Lily and I were about to tear open our gifts, “One at a time! I don’t want to miss anyone’s reactions! James, you’re the oldest, why don’t you go first?”


    James grabbed his biggest gift, a long box wrapped in Holy Head Harpies wrapping paper. He tore the packaging off in one fierce rip and opened the box. James pulled out a new shiny junior broom.


    “Yes! Thank you!” James jumped up and down excitedly, “My toy one was so babyish! This is amazing! Can I go try it out, please dad?”


    Dad laughed, “Calm down, James. Wait until after all of the gifts are opened, then I’ll take you outside,” Dad looked at me, “Go ahead Albus.”


     As opposed to Holy Head Harpies wrapping paper, my gift was wrapped in bright yellow paper with assorted candies on it. Secretly I had hoped I would get a junior level broom as well, but it was hard to miss the fact that my gift was much smaller than James’. I also didn’t miss dad turning mum and saying, “Just like Dumbledore, look, there’s lemon drops on it!”


    Mum apparently found this cute, “That’s so sweet. Santa sure knows how to pick wrapping paper out,” she kissed dad.


    I carefully unwrapped my gift and looked down at the words written in puke green that faced me:


    Professor Brainthought’s Children’s Potion Kit! (It’s never too early to get them started!).


    That’s right, a potions kit. It’s not like Severus Snape was a potions master or anything. Luckily since then my parents have laid off of trying to make me be like either of my name sakes. When I first entered Hogwarts I had hoped that everyone would not care about my name. This of course was proved wrong during my second potion lesson of that year:


    Professor Ligens still hadn’t let us start actually making potions. I was sitting down at my spot taking notes while listening to his monologue about safety while brewing potions. James had told me that Ligens is really strict about those things and we wouldn’t get to making potions for quite some time.


    “Well, class is almost over,” Ligens sighed, “Why don’t I ask some questions for bonus house points?”


    Ligens paced around the dungeon, “What do we use when cutting an ingredient that is round?”


    I looked around, nobody had raised their hand.


    Ligens stopped in front of me, “How about you, Albus? Albus Potter? Albus Severus Potter?”


    Even a deaf person could’ve heard the emphasis on ‘Severus’.


    “I don’t know.” I didn’t.


    Ligens frowned, “Pity. Severus Snape was the one who revolutionized the technique. I thought you would’ve known that.”


    Even now in my sixth year Ligens still resents the fact that I’m not a total genius at Potions, but he never stops trying to give me a chance to be. Which would explain how I’m in NEWT level potions when I only got an average on my OWLS.


    But the one place I never would have thought something like my name would have an affect on was my love life. I’m being serious here, it happened during my fourth year on my 3rd date with Laura Macmillan, a Ravenclaw.


    We walked up the spiraling staircase that led to the deck of the astronomy tower. I was prepared to get my first kiss tonight, hence why I had taken her to the astronomy tower which was known for that type of a thing.


    My hand felt really sweaty but I took hold of her hands and we walked over to the railing and look at the grounds below us. My hand felt extremely awkward holding hers and I kind of just wanted to let go, but she seemed to like it.


    I purposely avoided eye contact as I said, “I had fun tonight, did you?”


    I looked at her through the corner of my eye and she answered, “Yeah, you’re pretty sweet Albus.”


    “Al,” I corrected.


    The silence was starting to get awkward so I thought that it was now or never for getting a kiss. So I went for it.

    Laura put her hand out to stop me when I was about two inches from her face, “Wait, this just feels so wrong.”


    She successfully decimated any confidence that was present in my fourth year body.


    “What’s wrong?”  I asked carefully.


    Laura seemed frustrated by this question, “You’re name is Albus.”


    I couldn’t help the defensive tone that crept up, “What does that have to with anything?”


    Laura gestured around us, “Albus Dumbledore died here. It’s creepy! It would be like kissing a dead Albus Dumbledore! You get it, right?”   


    I haven’t really dated anyone since being compared to an old dead guy. So lets move on to present day, my sixth year at Hogwarts walking back from dinner with Rose who’s lecturing me about grades, because that was just background so you could perhaps have an idea of how much I hate my life. But more importantly, my name.




    Rose rubbed her forehead as we walked out of the Great Hall, “Maybe we should just meet more times a week.”


    I adjusted my glasses, “Rose, you’re not my mum, would you calm down? What does it matter if I’m a troll at Arithmancy? I’ll never use it in the real world anyway.”


    Rose’s lips pursed, “Well, you should wish I was your mother. Then maybe you wouldn’t be so lazy with your schoolwork!”


    I think she just insulted my mum. But I don’t care; mum named me Albus Severus and therefore should suffer as much as I do.


    “I’m doing fine in all my other classes. My dad asked you to help me out with Arithmancy every once in awhile. You’re taking it a bit too seriously.”


    Probably more than a bit, more like way too seriously. Rose acts like my dad asking her to help me was an order from God which has to be carried out.


    The good thing about Rose is that she is in Ravenclaw, so I can escape her clutches in the Gryffindor Common Room.


    “Study!” Rose ordered as she turned down a hall to get back to her common room while I kept going straight.


    I really don’t like walking in the corridors alone. Not because I’m scared or anything, it just feels all weird. Not that I was really alone right now as there were a few other people in the hall going back to the common rooms.


    “Hello Albus!”


    I looked to see who had called my name.


    I walked up to the painting of a girl about my age sitting in a chair. Her dress indicated how old the painting was, “Hello, Beatrice.”


    I had met, well if you can meet a painting, Beatrice in my first year. James tells me that she has a crush on me, though I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by it.


    “How was your dinner?”


    I ran my hand through my hair, a natural sign of discomfort, as people always give me looks when I talk to the painting.


    “It was good. How was yours?”


    She turned away and answered coolly, “I don’t eat.”


    I decided to go with the other hand this time, pulling it through my hair, “Erm. Right yeah, of course. Sorry.”


    She opened her mouth again but I interrupted, “Um, I better be going.”


    I started walking off.


    Locomotor Mortis!”


    I stopped walking off.


    My legs immediately locked up, leaving my upper body flailing. I tried to see who had jinxed me, “Stupid Slytherin!” I shouted. Because really, who else would do something like that?


    “Who are you calling a Slytherin? Woblus Satrarum!”


    My legs immediately felt like jelly and I fell to the ground. I heard the person walking up to me and I looked up.


    The first thing that stood out was the bright yellow colors of the person’s uniform. The Second, it was a girl.


    I was just jinxed by a Hufflepuff. A girl in Hufflepuff just jinxed me.


    I looked at the heavens and could only pray no one had seen, "NO!" 



    A/n: Hope you guys enjoyed!

    This was an intro to pretty much meeting Al and next chapter we will get to meet a certain Hufflepuff!


    What was your favorite part? Review and let me know!


    Mine was the memory of his first date haha ( : I feel bad for Al xD



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