Name: Albus Potter
Birthday (Age): March 15, 2006 (21)
Gender (Pronouns): Male (He/Him)
Blood Status: Halfblood
Hogwarts House: Slytherin
Occupation: Researcher at the Ministry
Faceclaim: Aubrey Joseph
Albus has always been the middle Potter child, the serious one, the anxious one, and any number of descriptions that don’t feel fair. No one ever calls him the ambitious one or the one who wants to make his own way. Perhaps that’s because James quite literally soared straight into his dreams and his own fame. Albus didn’t have the luxury of a broomstick to take him there, but personally he’s always wanted to settle his ambitions on something a little more meaningful. That’s not a slight to James, not directly. Albus wants to matter and as more than just Harry Potter’s son and Albus Dumbledore’s namesake.
Feelings on Magical Integration
Muggle technology was something Albus embraced completely. Most of his family seemed to, but while no one else seems to realize it, Albus was the one who taught his dad to use a computer, who got the hero of the wix world ready to introduce them to the auror office. Albus has a similar optimism for muggle integration, although he isn’t naive enough to think that it can happen quickly or on a whim. It will take planning and slow work, but as far as Albus can tell, most of the best plans do.
The middle Potter, the second son of a hero, Albus Potter has lived a certain amount of his life in the public eye. He’s always been conscious of attention, desiring it less and less as he grew older. He finds respite in close acquaintances and good friends, small settings and familiar environments. His family, though sometimes the very people he’s clashing with, are always his first source of solace and comfort. Whatever tensions they might have, they’re his people. And woe be told to anyone who crosses the line in his presence.
From a young age, Albus showed a taciturn bent and found himself at his Aunt Hermione’s side with frequency. Books and stories became his companions as much as his brother. And sometimes to better effect. He devoured literature, asked his aunt and parents for lessons and primers, and had a raging row over the fact that other children could go to primary school. He saw Hogwarts and education as the next great challenge, the next great adventure. He saw it as where he truly belonged.
How wonderfully cruel that reality can be.
Hogwarts wasn’t the worst thing really. It was a learning experience to be sure, in more than just the academics. Sorted into Slytherin and falling into a different vein than his brother and father, he acquired more than a little gossip. But Albus had been backed into an unfamiliar corner before, so he did what came naturally. His tongue lashed, far faster than his wand ever could, and he caught trouble with it. A black eye and a split lip were his reward, but the third year Gryffindor was on the ground and his opinion amongst his housemates was settled: he was a snake, through and through.
He learned quickly, taking in everything he could from his housemates and classes. He learned that his reserved nature was a gap people had to cross, that the masks he used out of indifference or out of annoyance with the press were tools at his disposal, he learned that his words were not just barbs, but arrows. By his third year, he changed tones and temperaments like cloaks, dressing for the occasion as it was warranted. He found that the most effective mask though, was indifference. He could take on the affect of the uninterested, the teen who was there just to be there. It let him sink to the back, people looking over him for someone more interested. And that gave Albus the thing he valued most : time.
From his seat in the background, he developed a knack for patterns that spread naturally to arithmancy while his ability to apply accumulated logic on the fly endeared him to charms all the more. They became his best subjects, followed rather quickly by history of magic. Though that one? That was a practiced study. Especially after the Madley Properies came about.
The change of the world while he was at Hogwarts was sudden. The access to more technology meant access to more information. Muggle information. Albus devoured it all, spending hours cross referencing magical history with muggle timelines, building comprehensive understanding of events and their influence on either side of the Statute of Secrecy. How the political actions in the muggle world influenced the economic realities of the magically community, or how a magical malady could seep over into the muggle world and insight chaos because of the tiniest bit of other. He learned that things were far more interconnected than most people thought.
And he realized how absolutely mad changing anything quickly was.
He graduated with respectable marks in his favored disciplines, with his only truly problematic grade coming in Defense. But he wasn’t looking to join his father in the Aurors. Eventually he wanted to end up somewhere in the DMLE, somewhere in regulation and jurisprudence. But first, he needed information. His classes were dreadfully sparse on the machinations that drove their society, and that’s what he needed to understand. He’d never had to fake an interest in his Aunt Hermione’s work, and the right words had him at the Ministry, running paper and writing briefs and other monotonous work best left to the newly graduated. But he was there. That was the important part.
He worked in the depths of the Ministry’s archives, pulling up documents and cross referencing whatever needed to be done. He ran errands, made tea, and hug out in the break-room generally putting on the show of being a disaffected teen working simply because he had to. And it made sense that he was in the Ministry, being who he was after all. Why it made perfect sense that he was wandering into the Minster’s office to bother his family.
Just a nephew visiting his aunt. Nothing sinister in that.
Now at twenty-one, Albus has become something of a fixture in the research apparatus of the magical government of England. His pattern recall and gift for memorization has made him the place where most research inquiries begin: ask Potter, he’ll show you how to start. His analytical mind lends itself to complicated cross application of policy and precedent and his use of technology in the filing system has made him indispensable. He’s still technically a lowly researcher in the basement of the government buildings, but it’s a carefully crafted image. He’s sitting carefully at the center of a web of ministry communication and employees, feeding on and putting out information as needs musts.
Scorpius Malfoy: Albus never wants Rose to know that at this point, he considers Scorpius his best friend. Generally he doesn’t talk about his relationship with his roommate to anyone else because if he did, it might acknowledging that there’s something more.
Rose Weasley: Albus sometimes feels like he came between Rose and Scorpius with his friendship, but if Rose thinks the same, she’s never said. The two are just as close as they’ve always been.
Morgan Thomas: Their parents are family friends, so Albus has sort of known Morgan for most of his life. He’s always found Morgan to be a bit standoffish, but Albus is sure the same could be said about himself.
