Aki- I swore I would stop starting new fanfiction, but I can't help it. Anyway, basically I have my own specific perceptions I have made up over time about the next generation characters but I am never going to write a real chaptered fic for it, but I found a way to show them off. Feel free to borrow ideas if you like, just PM me first. I feel some of these will clash with others views of these characters and others will mesh quit nicely, depending on your view. So here it is. Teddy's next.


Albus smokes. His parents pretended they didn't know, although they could undoubtedly smell the smoke on his breath and his clothes. Albus played along, not wanting to upset the precarious balance that let him indulge his addiction in peace. So at least twice everyday he would sneak out behind the broom shed in the backyard where no one would see him or the cigarette butts that littered the ground.


He wasn't sure when he was first introduced to the idea of Muggle cigarettes (wizards preferred pipes), but he does remembered when he bought them at shop in St. Ottery Catchpole one overcrowded Weasley Christmas at the Burrow when he stepped out for a walk. It was a strange teenage act of rebellion, buying them, because he wasn't sure what exactly he was rebelling against. But still he coughed his way through smoking his first cigarette, sitting on the icy curb, wind pulling at the green and silver scarf around his neck.


"Well, well, well…you're gonna be a tricky one," whispered the Sorting Hat in a silky, amused voice, as if it were this challenge he was waiting for. Albus blinked, but didn't answer. "Hmmm…You care greatly about many things…many people. Your family. Friendship. And yourself. You don't like standing in shadows. You want to prove something. But where to put you?

"Ravenclaw's not right," the hat added dismissively after a short pause. Albus didn't particularly care to go to Ravenclaw, but he did feel like his intelligence had just been insulted.

"Oh, don't be so touchy," said the hat, reading the thought as soon as it came and past. "We both know your studies will never come first to you… Hufflepuff would work. Hard work, loyalty, and good friends you'll find with the badgers of Helga's house. You'd be happy there...yet you wouldn't thrive. No one to push you to.

"Of course, there is always Gryffindor, the house traditional of Potters. Enough zesty folk there to provoke you along. But I fear it would be hard for you, so close to place your timid soul," Again, Albus felt insulted, "so close to your brother."

The Hat continued. "I would suggest Slytherin," Albus took a sharp intake of breath, "where the cunning, clever, and ambitious go. You'll be in no one's shadow there. But I know how you Potters get about Slytherin…unless you are considering it."

There was a silence and Albus could only assume the Hat was waiting for an answer. He remembered his father's words on the Platform: the Hat would consider his opinion…Slytherin was the house of one of his namesake's.

Albus gulped before he answered. "Put me where you think is best."

When the Hat called out "Slytherin" Albus felt himself oddly not disappointed.


The friendship of Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy began like this:

"I swear to Merlin," said Scorpius to Albus the first night in their dorm, looking at the Potter boy like he expected nothing but treachery from him. "If you ever do something gross to me in my sleep, I will destroy you."

Albus burst out laughing at the threat, something about how venomously this slight, pale boy who had sat shyly through dinner had said this was so amusing. Scorpius stared at him, scowl gone, bewildered, because he didn't know someone could laugh like that.


Although James was just a year older than his, Albus always saw him as having years on him. He just seemed so much older to Albus. Perhaps it was his confidence, always talking in a way that made people listen, or how he seemed to know everything and Al nothing, always the gullible little brother falling for James' fibs. It was James with the talent, the friends, the attention and Albus could never help but feel a little envious.


Even though it wasn't like he wanted his baby sister hanging around him every minute of every day, he still didn't think it was fair that she seemed to like James better than him. After all, he was her big brother too and one who was generally nicer to, paid more attention to, and played with her more than James. Albus could be in the middle of some stupid girly game she had pleaded him into playing with her and then James shows up with the promise of a piggyback ride or tossing a quaffle around outside and Lily would skip off, leaving Al, without a thought.

It just made him feel a little left out, is all.


Rose was his favorite cousin. Probably one of his best friends too, even though she was a girl and girls are afflicted with craziness. They were friends by convenience, considering how much Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione hung out with his parents and Rose being his age and all. The convenience worked out though, because Rose was pretty cool considering. She maybe studied a little too much and liked lecturing him about smoking too often and found too much enjoyment with whacking him on the back of the head whenever he said stupid things. But she hung out with him all the time even though they were sorted into different houses: he is Slytherin and she in Gryffindor. The coolest was that he could talk to her about stuff he couldn't talk to only child Scorp about, because he didn't understand what it was like, sibling rivalry or feeling like you were gonna disappear among your rabble of cousins.


Albus sometimes feels quit transparent. It's not like he is neglected or ignored or anything like that. His family is great and he loves them. But it's hard, being surrounded by such a large, loud, colorful group and having a famous parents, because he is not sure where he fits into all of it… and whether he is anything without them.


People always asked him what it was like to have the Harry Potter as a father. Albus could never answer to their satisfaction because he didn't think about it in those terms. To him Dad was Dad, first and foremost, and often he'd forget about all the hero and famous stuff until someone pointed out. Albus preferred it his way. He thinks Dad does to.


Albus hates Quidditch. This is pretty strange considering he is a Potter and Weasley, even more with all that his mum being a Holy Harpie and his dad being "the youngest seeker in a century." Al abhors the sport. He might not have, if he hadn't grown up surrounded by Quidditch fanatics constantly bickering about records and World Cups and reliving Hogwarts Quidditch glory days. But you can only be indifferent to something so long when you are surrounded by it until you start to get pissed off.


Albus is ridiculously glad he doesn't need glasses like his father and brother do. This is purely based on the fact that he already looks preposterously like his father, more than James does anyway, being the only one of the three to get Harry's black messy hair and his green eyes. People tell him this all the time. Albus already has a bad enough of an identity crisis to start with, he doesn't need glasses to make him even more of a miniature clone of his father than he already it.


He complains too much. Albus knows it, even if he doesn't complain out loud. He is always judging and critical and a bit of a downer too. It's like he expects life to perfect and bend to his wants and expectations. Because as many problems he finds with everything, he really has a pretty good life: a gigantic loving family, loyal friends, a more happy than not home, and a whole life laid out in front of him.


Aki- review please!!!

(just a note. I don't smoke and this story is not supposed to encourage smoking, but I acknowledge that people do smoke, a lot more teens and young adults than are ever depicted in popular media...so yeah...also the idea of Al smoking just popped into my head one dad and I could not let go of it ... so yeah. )