|SIYE Time:11:16 on 20th August 2017|
The Chosen Child
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Genres: Action/Adventure, Humor
Story is Complete
Summary: Albus is just about to start his second year at Hogwarts, but first, he wants to get some clarifications about the rumours that run rampant at Hogwarts. And they all revolve around the most famous scar within the Wizarding World.
Hitcount: Story Total: 962
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.
This chapter has some personal experiences that I've had the misfortune to experience in my own life. In these one-shots I've done that a few times, anyway, enjoy.
‘We’re going to need two more boxes of Puking Pasties and another batch of Exploding …clairs!’ Uncle Ron’s voice sounded just to the right of Al. ‘Closing in fifteen minutes!’
Al was restocking the shelves a week before the start of his second year. Every year since he was big enough to lift more than ten pounds he had been able to help his uncles George and Ron Weasley at their store they managed in Diagon Alley, Weasley Wizard Wheezes. It was especially busy for them just before the start of a new school year at Hogwarts. It was chaotic and he loved it.
Immediately he hurried back to the storage room and gathered the requested items and placed them on the counter next to Uncle Ron at the till. A nod of gratitude, and then it was business as usual. The thunk of the till drawer and tinkling of coins assured Al that Uncle Ron had been able to make the last sale of the day.
Just before Al’s mum arrived to pick him up from another very busy day at work, he thought of something he had been meaning to ask Uncle Ron for a long time. Now that Albus had been to school, had history lessons and heard gossip from other students he knew just how famous his Dad was because of the Riddle War.
Whenever people would flock to his dad to thank him for his services, Al had always just assumed it was because of his dad’s Head Auror position within the Ministry of Magic. Al hadn’t ever heard from his parents to have him believe otherwise. What had always been Al’s favorite thing about his dad was the wicked scar on his forehead that was in the shape of a lightning bolt. After going to Hogwarts and hearing all of the rumours around it, he reassessed the interest in the scar and wondered what the truth really was.
Thankfully, he knew he could get answers and felt safe that his uncles could give him truthful answers. He should go to his father, but the thought of going to his dad was ridiculous. It was common knowledge between the Potter children that Dad never talked about his past. He never discouraged questions, but his dad was pretty tight-lipped about the whole affair.
Walking back into the tiny office that had the ‘Employees Only’ sign on it, where he knew Uncle Ron was accounting all of the sales that had been made today, he settled close to the tall wizard and waited until there was a break in between the scratching of the quill.
‘Can I ask you something, Uncle Ron?’
‘Sure Al. What’s going on?’ Uncle Ron set down his quill and turned slightly in his chair to face him.
Al paused and ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the sudden grin his uncle gave him and asked his queries in one breath, ‘Why does Dad have that lightning bolt scar on his forehead? What does it mean?’
Uncle Ron didn’t answer immediately. That worried him. Usually, Uncle Ron was one to crack a joke and have a funny answer to even the most serious of questions, but then again, Al knew the bond between Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, and his dad. Perhaps some of the rumours were true. Dad absolutely avoided talking about his scar or how’d he received it.
‘I’m not sure I’m the one to tell you Al. It’s up to your dad to tell you the hows and whys of that scar. It’s kind of personal and even though I’m one of his best friends I don’t think he’d like it if I told you. If your parents haven’t told you already I wouldn’t feel right if I told you something they had wanted to keep back for whatever reason.’ Uncle Ron explained.
‘I always knew this would come to bite your father and me in the behind one of these days. Our children are way too curious, sneaky and adventurous to keep the truth for very long. I blame Harry for passing most of those traits onto our kids, he was always the one gallivanting around the country like a hero.’ said a female voice behind Al.
It was his Mum, Ginny Potter who had spoken and Uncle George came through the door right behind her. They walked into the room and Uncle George shut the door and crammed into the small office that barely fit everyone.
‘Yes,’ Uncle Ron chimed in. ‘but who was the one to play professional Quidditch player and broke nearly every bone in their body at one time or another before they called it quits? Not to mention said player also went gallivanting across the world to play and wasn’t such an innocent kid as people are lead to believe. I distinctly remember knowing a nosy seven-year-old girl who had gone downstairs one night and caught her parents…’
‘Eww, eww, eww! We DO NOT discuss that horrible topic. I had nightmares for weeks! All I wanted was a drink of water! Why did I ever tell you that incident anyway?’
Uncle George and Ron guffawed while both mother and child turned a nasty shade of green.
‘Because you were sloshed drunk and don’t seem to have a filter on your mouth when you’re intoxicated.’ Uncle Ron said smugly.
'‘Thanks, Ron, not only have you told George, but you’ve scarred Al’s mind too. I wouldn't worry about George, he doesn't have that much left to lose.’
‘Hey!’ Uncle George said indignantly.
‘You are so dead; you know that right?’ Mum said with the scariest expression on her face. Al could see torture and pain for Uncle Ron in those mischievous eyes and the sly smile.
Al turned to his uncle and saw him go pale. Mum only chuckled and rubbed her hands together in glee. Payback would be awful for Uncle Ron.
‘Ginny! I don’t think you need to do anything drastic! George won’t say a word or do anything to you… ever!’
Uncle George coughed and Al was sure he heard him say, ‘Yeah right.’ and that’s when Uncle Ron really went white as a ghost.
‘You can’t kill me! I’m Harry’s best friend and he’d know something isn’t right when we don’t see each other. He’s the Head of the Auror department and then he’d have to arrest you!’
‘Best friend, huh? Hermione will think that’s quite a bold thing to say, Ron,’ said Mum nonchalant.
Uncle Ron looked small and weak in his chair, which was quite the feat for Ron’s lanky form, and Al was starting to worry about his health. Aunt Hermione probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if Mum told her what Uncle Ron had just said. Uncle George started laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. Mum only smirked.
‘I won’t kill you, but even if I did, I’m sure I would like it just as much as Harry would if he had to put me in bondage and tie me up.’ Uncle Ron and Al both gagged and nearly lost their lunch to the mental image. Uncle Ron looked like he was about to faint. Uncle George was in fits, nearly on the floor with laughter. Al wasn’t sure if anyone would make it out of the room alive.
‘But we’ve gotten drastically off topic from the one Al started here. He asked why Harry had the lightning bolt scar, and I think we should call him over and have him answer your questions, Al.’ Mum thankfully changed to a subject that didn’t turn his stomach or have his ears and neck flame with embarrassment. He would finally get some answers. But since his father never seemed too keen to answer inquiries of his past, he was a little surprised his Mum would suggest such a thing.
“Oh, ok. I just didn’t think he liked to talk about it, Mum?” Al asked hesitantly.
“No, he doesn’t, but I know he’d want to be able to talk to you personally. I’ll ask him to come now.” Ginny responded as she took out her wand out of her purse and her patronus of a mare burst forth and galloped away. Obviously sent to the ministry and to his dad’s office.
Not much later a knock on the back door and a head of jet-black hair and the tall form of Harry Potter entered the cramped office of Weasley Wizard Wheezes.
Al gulped. Now that the moment was here, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. That was silly, he was a Gryffindor after all, and his dad probably left something important at the ministry. Well, guess it was now or never. Who knows when he’d get this opportunity.
“So, Al, you had a question for me?” said his dad. His face a carefully neutral expression.
“Er… yeah, I wondered. Ah, I wondered how and why you have the scar on your forehead? At school, I’ve just been hearing some things - not that I believe them! But, I just wondered if any of them were true.” Al paused, unsure how his dad would react to his admission.
His mum walked over to his dad and hugged him briefly. It was getting warm standing around the small room. Al tugged at his work collar.
“Why don’t we go do this in a more comfortable place. The house perhaps?” suggested his mum.
Uncle Ron added. “Yeah, George and I have to finish up closing up the shop. We’ll see you guys Sunday at the Burrow.” He then turned to Al. “You can come by the shop tomorrow same time if you’d like.”
“Okay. See you guys later, bye Uncle George.”
The Potter’s quickly left the shop and went down to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo home with Al. Dad answered Mum’s inquiry about whether it was alright that he left the ministry in such short notice, by which he said, “It wasn’t a problem Gin, I was just about finished with the day’s work anyway.”
In short order, the Potters were sitting down in their cozy kitchen, a pot of tea in the middle of the table with Al and his parents facing each other over a plate of sweet biscuits. As usual, his mum and dad were sitting close with their hands tightly clasped.
More to do something with his hands than actual hunger, Al quickly snatched a biscuit and all but shoved it in his mouth. Absently he wondered where his siblings were. As if he had read his mind, his dad asked, “Gin, where are Lily and James? There is no way that they are this quiet on holiday.”
“Oh, Lily wanted to play with Rosey and Hugo before dinner, which I told Hermione I’d pick her up in an hour, and James said he was going over to the Jordan’s to work on some summer “homework.” At this, his mum rolled her eyes in disbelief.
“The day James does his homework well in advance, I’ll eat my wand.” Commented his dad with a slight smirk and an equal look of skepticism. Suddenly he turned back to Al and a feeling of anxious anticipation and excitement rekindled in Al’s stomach. “So Al, you had a question?”
“As I said before, I know you don’t like to talk about it Dad, but now that I’m at Hogwarts I’ve just heard a lot about the Riddle War, and I wasn’t sure if what I’ve been hearing was right. I’ve always liked your scar, but… er… there’s been talk of it being a curse scar that … that has some otherworldly powers.” He said hesitantly.
It sounded stupid. Otherworldly powers? Why did he even open his mouth in the first place? Wanting to bang his head on the table in disgust, but resisting the urge, Al peered cautiously up at his dad’s face.
His dad had a look of resignation. Shaking his head, his dad tightly said, “That’s a complicated question Albus, with a really long answer. Probably far too long a discussion if we’re to have dinner tonight. How about the abridged version, and when you’re older and have more specific questions, you can ask them? Sound reasonable?”
Al nodded, that was a lot more than he was anticipating.
“Well, it started before I was even born. A prophecy was told to your namesake Al, Albus Dumbledore, and a servant of Tom Riddle overheard and rushed off to tell his master.” Here his father took a quick drink from his cooling tea, but after a moment he resumed his story. “After a time Riddle decided to act in what he thought was the best way and ended up attacking me and my parents on Halloween night. That is where I got this scar.” His dad said as he lifted up his bangs and showed Al the scar that had been so fascinating during his childhood.
“That night more than this scar happened between me and Riddle. A connection formed between he and me, though I wouldn’t realize that for several years. This connection allowed me to see into his mind and I would get pains from time to time when Riddle was in his most powerful during the Riddle War. It wasn’t until after the Final Battle that I was able to sever the bond between us and I could move on from the burdens of the prophecy. I won’t tell you what the prophecy says, but I will say that it basically foretold of a boy that could stop Riddle and that could have meant me or Neville Longbottom.”
With a start at the familiar name, Albus jumped and said hoarsely, “It could have meant Professor Longbottom too?”
A wry smile graced his father's face as he nodded. His mother then turned to Al and added, “Yes, it could have been Neville, but Riddle saw a little bit of himself in your dad, and that Al, is why your dad has the lightning bolt scar. There’s more to the scar than meets the eye, but I think that’s enough for one day. Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?”
Al was a little disappointed, but he respected his parents enough to realize that things were probably too much for a twelve-year-old. Not that it didn’t irk that his curiosity couldn’t be fully sated, but for the moment it was pretty good since none of the Potters could get their dad to really open up.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Mum and Dad.” In a move that both surprised and pleased his parents, Al quickly hugged each of his parents and gave his mum a kiss on the cheek. “I really appreciate the answers, Dad, maybe we could talk when we have more time and I can think over what you’ve told me?”
His dad looked deeply into his matching set of eyes and spoke barely above a whisper. “You can ask me anything, anytime. I might need to make some edits when I consider your age and knowledge, but I will never lie to you. I remember being a teenager and feeling like no one trusted me, even though I had gone through some pretty tough stuff. It was frustrating and I hated not knowing. But you remember Albus Severus Potter, I will always be here to answer your questions. Your Mum too. We are here for you Al.”
With that, his dad swept him into a tight hug and both father and son embraced for several seconds. A loud bang of the front door broke the pair apart. Then a loud voice shouted clearly from the entry way.
“I’m home! Hey Mum, what’s for dinner? I’m starved!”
“And the chaos returns.” muttered Al’s mum as James Potter zoomed into the kitchen and the family settled into their usual dinner routine.
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