When next the door opens, a young boy of about sixteen happens to stumble through.
Upon first glance, one might think they recognize him - he's got the Potter signature looks after all (particularly the dark unkempt hair). He even has his grandmother's green eyes.
But on closer inspection, there are differences
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(Cal had been leaning back in his seat while playing games on his datapad. He is not anymore.)
"What am I wearing?"
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Then there is the question to address. (He isn't exactly sure what Cal means by it.)
And finally, there's the fact that this boy looks strangely like him - in some ways.
So, swallowing, Albus opens his mouth to say something, waiting for a sentence of articulate words to simply stream out.
"...?"
Nothing happens.
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He closes his datapad without looking down.
"You're not me," he decides. "--wait, are you my dad? Like, a teenage version? Oh, kriff, you're not my future kid, are you? I don't want a future kid-- no offence if you are, only I haven't even-- but that's not important."
Beat.
"Well, what's your name?"
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Finally, after a moment's pause, he manages to speak his name out. "Albus Potter," he replies, "I'm - Albus Potter."
He pauses, scrutinizing the other boy's features. He's seen pictures of his dad, so clearly this cannot be him.
Nevertheless, similar questions run through his head - only quietly.
"You ... who're you, then?"
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"I don't know anyone called Albus or Potter. Maybe you're not related to me at all.
"I'm Cal Janson," he adds with a shrug. "From Coruscant. That mean anything to you?"
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"I don't know where that is," he admits. "I'm from ... London. Wizarding London."
He swallows.
"Where is - Coruscant?"
He has a sneaking suspicion that it might not even be on his planet. (But he's trying not to get too ahead of himself on this.)
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