The association of Sirius Black and James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.

It was only ten o'clock in the morning, but already Platform 9 and ¾ was bustling with people, muggle borns, half bloods, blood traitors, and pure bloods. We were in a corner, and my mother, Walburga Black, was looking round with beady eyes, trying to spot any other pure blooded children for me, Sirius Black, to sit with.

'Mother?' I queried, 'Who am I to sit with when I am sorted into Slytherin?'

'You'll be sitting on Narcissas' left, and encourage any year mates to sit next to, or near you. Then you can start to make connections and rise up the hierarchy straight away.'

'Yes mother. I'll write to inform you of any links made that evening. Oh, I've spotted Cousin Bellatrix. Will I be sitting with them on the train ride in?'

'Of course you will child, who else would you be sitting with? That Nott boy?' The mother and son shared a private laugh over the unfortunate turn of events for the Nott family, three months previously; one of the Nott daughters had married a filthy muggle and had shamed the family beyond belief. They still hadn't got over the shame of it all, and likely never would.

Walburga looked down on her oldest son, and gave him a rare smile, 'You'll be fine Sirius, you always are.' I looked up at my mother's identical grey eyes and smiled at her. 'Goodbye, I'll see you for the Christmas Holidays, and I'll write every week.'

When I finally arrived at the great Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I was a curious mix of excited, nervous, hungry, confident and relaxed. As I climbed into a boat with three other boys who were chattering amongst themselves I looked around and saw around forty other students gathering around the boats. They were easily identifiable as to their blood status. The pure bloods among them, I already knew, but were recognisable by their indifference to the rumpus going on around them. Mudbloods were recognised by their unabashed staring at every little bit of magic, and were gazing at Hogwarts as though a God had just descended amongst them. Half bloods were recognised by their similarities to mudbloods, but half bloods were not as obvious in their staring at all things magical.

Having deduced who was who in the crowds, I turned to the other three occupants of his boat. To my disgust, there were two half bloods in his boat. The final boy was almost too much to bear though, a blood traitor. I recognised the blood traitor as the Potter boy, James, as my third cousin – twice removed. The shame of even being even third cousins with people who were willing to treat filth and pure bloods equally was almost unbearable. But I am strong, so I pushed the disgusted thoughts to the back of my head as the other boys turned to me, finally realising that there was, in fact, another human in the boat with them.

'I'm James Potter, and these are Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Who are you?'

'Oh Merlin, they're not even respectable half bloods.' Muttered Sirius. 'I'm Sirius Black.' There. Short and to the point. Maybe they'll get the hint and leave me alone from now on.

'Black? Aren't we related somehow?' That infernal Potter brat! Couldn't he just get the hint and just shut up!

'Yes. We're third cousins – twice removed on my mother's side. Your mother is my Great Aunt. But I'm trying to forget that I'm related to you, it's quite painful to admit that I'm related to someone like you.' I was quite proud of that little speech it was scathing, and to the point. Maybe he would get the point now?

'Why would you know that? And what do you mean, someone like me?' Ahh, clearly not then.

'Look at yourself. You have associated with half bloods. Not even respectable ones! And your entire family are blood traitors. You disgust me.'

'oh, you're one of those types of people are you? You think you're so much better then Peter or Remus, because you can trace your family back a hundred years and they're all magical. i can't belive my mother was part of all that crap.'

'your mother used to meet my Great Aunt Elladora for afternoon tea at our house for years until Great Aunt died. Then she met with my mother. Still does as a matter of fact.'

'WHAT! My mother wouldn't come near you and your family with a ten-foot broomstick!'

'of course not. Real ladies don't use them.'

'UGGGHHHH! You are infuriating!'

I turned to the other two in the boat and addressed them. 'Can you see what bad breeding does to you? He's an inarticulate bump, who will probably resort to violence in a moment as he has little command of the English language.' I was particularly proud with how the argument was going so far. He had remained calm and collected throughout, not even raising my voice, and coming back with witty comments, just as I had been raised to, too ensure that no-one else picked up on arguments between pure bloods and used them against you. Also, it was much more fun.

Ahh, just as I had predicted, Potter has resorted to violence. I think I'll fall in, that way I can gain sympathy votes from others in my year, prove that I am always right, and it doesn't matter if I get wet or cold, I know the charms to change that.

Thank Merlin we were near the shore, no-one can look graceful swimming, and you certainly can't look graceful trying to clamber back into a boat from a lake. I drew myself up and applied drying and heating charms to my body, throwing disgusted and haughty looks at James Potter as I did so. He looked astonished that I could cast this simple magic successfully, and I could make out regret all over his ridiculously expressive face. Honestly, pure bloods should have carefully arranged expressions, and if in doubt, go blank. I turned and followed my fellow students up to the castle without a word to Potter or his little friends.

We entered a large hall following a stern looking witch, who looked like the type who you wouldn't like to cross. I could identify her as Professor McGonagall thanks to his cousins' helpful descriptions of all the Professors and the school in general. She led us through a wooden door into a smaller side hall where she instructed us to 'smarten up' and that she would return for us in a moment. I looked around for other pure bloods to talk to and saw Avery to my left. I swiftly made my way over to him, and greeted my old acquaintance. Of course I didn't have any friends, Blacks don't make friends, we make advantageous acquaintances.

Professor McGonagall returned after around five minutes, and led us all into the Great Hall. It really was as fancy as I had been prepared for. The ceiling was reflecting an impressive sun set over the school, turning the stone flagged floor a blend of pinks, oranges and yellows. I didn't listen to the sorting hats song, I was searching out my cousins and acquaintances at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. I only began to pay attention when Professor McGonagall called out peoples' names. My name was the fourth name called, after Almond, Titania was pronounced a Hufflepuff. I swaggered up to the hat, confidence oozing from me, expecting, along with the rest of the Hall, an instant Slytherin. What happened, however, was very different.

The hat sank over my eyes obscuring my vision of the Slytherin table and my cousins' hopeful, expectant faces.

Hmmmmm. Difficult, very difficult.
What's difficult? Sort me into Slytherin, that's where I belong, that's where all Blacks belong.
Yes, most Blacks are sorted there, but you're not most Blacks, are you Sirius?
Just sort me! I can't believe that this school would have such a slow method of sorting people into houses that they were born into.
You don't mean that though, do you? I can see bravery and courage in here, alongside cunning and slyness. Gryffindor alongside Slytherin. You would do well in Gryffindor.
Not Gryffindor! Not Gryffindor!
Not Gryffindor? But you would do great things in GRYFFINDOR!

I heard the hat shout the last word to the hall. Professor McGonagall lifted the hat off my head, and I sought out my cousins' faces, desperate for someone to tell me it was all a joke, that I was really in Slytherin, that my cousins weren't really looking at me like I'd just, announced myself a mudblood killed their parents and danced on their dead bodies. I looked around the Hall, still sitting on the rickety stool, no-one was clapping for me from Gryffindor, they all knew I was supposed to be sitting at the Slytherin table – not theirs. Professor McGonagall looked at me and told me to go to my seat. I was in a trance. I slowly got up and walked to the table – the table I never in my wildest nightmares had dreamed of sitting at once, let alone for seven years. All my plans were gone, mother and father would hate me, Bella, Narcissa, Regulus – they would all hate me. Andromeda probably wouldn't care, but she married a mudblood, she didn't know anything. I sat down at the end of the table, as far away from everyone else as possible, not that it was hard, they all moved away from me, leaving a couple of feet between me and the nearest person.

The sorting continued without anything else as dramatic. My dormitory mates were the other three boys from the boat. At least there weren't any mudbloods; I don't think I could have stood that.