562 words, by google docs
Sirius Black is sorted into Slytherin and it fits.
He's a Black.
All Blacks are Slytherins, he knows that. His cousins pat him on the back and one of the teachers looks at him hungrily.
"That's Professor Slughorn," an older Slytherin explains, seeing Sirius' line of vision, "he likes Blacks. You guys are special to him."
Sirius turns to the Slytherin, who he recognises—the blond-haired boy introduced himself just seconds before—but he can't remember the name, already. Sirius gives a short nod and turns to where other people are being sorted, one right after the other.
He's a Slytherin. He's exactly where he belongs. So why does something feel wrong inside? He tries to push it down, though. He's sure it'll disappear after a few days. Blacks just fit in Slytherin. It's meant to be.
(At the same time, though, it doesn't fit. Sirius' eyes are just the wrong shade of grey. It clashes with the silver of Slytherin.)
Remus Lupin is sorted into Ravenclaw and almost right away he feels overwhelmed.
There are ten people in his face right away, telling him everything and nothing about the classes and about the extra-curriculars. There are people asking him what he already knows and people asking him what he's excited to learn and Remus doesn't even know where to start.
He'd love to answer all of their questions—he does have answers!—but everyone's talking so fast that once one question is put into his brain, another one appears and he can't even begin to grasp them.
He sits quietly instead, smiling at the people who make themselves known and trying to decipher one voice from another.
(Remus appreciates their kindness but he feels overwhelmed—he likes learning, but not at this rapid pace. He prefers his own pace.)
Peter Pettigrew is sorted into Hufflepuff.
He's greeted by smiles and immediate friends. They all want him to sit next to him and tell him about himself. They tell him how great the Hogwarts food will be and all sorts of things about the castle.
They make him feel welcome and loved, right away.
But they're also hovering around him, making sure he's okay and not bored while everyone else gets sorted. He tells them that he's fine, but one of the third years continues to ask him a bunch of questions about himself.
(It's like he's surrounded by his mum, fifty times over. He thought he was at Hogwarts to make new friends and learn magic, not to be smothered.)
James Potter is sorted into Gryffindor and the sorting finished soon after.
Something isn't right. He's been keeping track of the other first-year Gryffindors and…
There's no other first-year Gryffindor boys. He's going to be all alone, then.
The Gryffindors in higher years greet him and welcome him into their den right away, but he still feels weird—none of his friends are going to be his age, then. Or, if they are his age, they'll be girls.
That wasn't supposed to happen. James was supposed to find his best friends, his brothers for life.
James supposed that he should spend time getting to know the other Gryffindors around him, who are welcoming him as one of their own. After all, the older Gryffindors are great, they really are…
(But there's something that just doesn't click with his fellow housemates. He doesn't know if it'll ever click.)
for:
auction [remus]
[em would kill me for not combining]
