J. Rowling - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

“But just say—”

“—then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won’t it? It doesn’t matter to us, Al. But if it matter to you, you’ll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account.”

“Really?”

“It did for me,” said Harry.

He had never told any of his children that before, and he saw the wonder in Albus’s face when he said it. But how the doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents swarming forward for final kisses, last-minute reminders, Albus jumped into the carriage and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned toward Harry.

“Why are they all staring?” demanded Albus as he and rose craned around to look at the other students.

“Don’t let it worry you,” said Ron. “It’s me, I’m extremely famous.”

Albus, Rose, Hugo, and Lily laughed. The train began to more, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son’s thin face, already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him…

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry’s hand was still raised in farewell.

“He’ll be alright,” murmured Ginny.

As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absent-mindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

“I know he will.”

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.