Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognise.
AN: Written for HedwigBlack's Weekly Challenge. It's my first real Maruaders-era fic that I've written.
Sirus Black felt like he was living in a dream. There were times he pinched himself, just trying to see if he was dreaming. After all these years wanting and waiting to go to Hogwarts and be sorted into Slytherin (it was supposed to be a virtual guarantee that as a Black, that was where he was supposed to go).
But it hadn't worked like that.
The Sorting Hat, for perverse reasons of its own, had decided to place him in GRYFFINDOR of all places! That wasn't what was supposed to happen. Yes, Sirus was different from the rest of his family and their stupid, bigoted pure-blood beliefs and Merlin knew he had a strong tendency to engage in stupid, risky activities that good little Blacks weren't supposed to do, but how did he end up in GRYFFINDOR of all places? Two days ago, Sirus had been sorted into Gryffindor and it still hadn't fully sunk in yet and as he sat down at the Gryffindor dining table in the Great Hall for breakfast,
A snowy owl nipped his finger and Sirus was sharply pulled out of his reveries and his attention was sharply brought to the letter sitting in front of him. A very familiar red envelope that could only be one thing. Sirus swore and covered his ears as the all-too-familiar sound of Walburga Black screamed out at him. He could practically see the wide-eyed look she had when screaming at him, even though the letter showed no signs of it.
"SIRUS BLACK, HOW DARE YOU ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR!" she began and Sirus winced as he saw his new friends James and Remus and Peter all frown angrily. He really didn't want to lose them. He'd only known them since he came to Hogwarts less than a week ago, he already thought of them as his brothers in all but name.
"Your father is on his way to talk to Dumbledore right now and he will personally see to it that you are re-sorted as soon as possible!" she continued and Sirus tried to pretend that he couldn't hear the voice that was making his ears throb.
"When you return home at Christmas, I expect you to have properly embraced your true Black roots, or you can forget coming home until the summer holidays!"
"She makes that sound like it's a bad thing," Sirus murmured, but Walburga Black wasn't finished yet.
"If you're left in Gryffindor, who knows what kind of filth you'll be mixing with! I have heard rumours that you have been seen with a POTTER no less! A Black has no business mixing with blood-traitors like them! And even worse, you might mix with mudbloods, petty little thieves of magic who don't deserve to be at Hogwarts!"
"Shut up you old hag," Sirus muttered under his breath. He wouldn't have dared tell her that to her face, but far away at Hogwarts was a different matter.
"I just hope that you haven't managed to infect your little brother Regulus with your foolish ideas. My darling son is a good pure-blood son who will show you how a true Black acts!"
The envelope burst into flames and James let out a low whistle.
"I can't believe you got a howler before me!" he exclaimed in surprise. "I mean seriously, I'm an expert at causing trouble and you managed to beat me! I'm impressed."
"W-w-" Sirus began, but Remus interrupted him with a bemused comment of his own.
"She really needs to work on not sounding like an old fishwife," he said nonchantly, before giving Sirus a quick look. "No offence," he added.
"None taken," Sirus said in a dazed voice, feeling a little stunned that he wasn't receiving death glares from his friends. Suddenly he was aware of two adult figures standing beside him in the shape of his father, who was looking furious, and the ever-serene Albus Dumbledore.
"Mister Black, I regret to inform you that all sortings are permanent," Dumbledore said calmly. "I'm afraid your father has had a wasted journey."
What Sirus did next was probably a little rash and a more thoughtful person might well have not done what he did next. With a whoop of joy, Sirus jumped to his feet and danced around happily with a grin on his face chanting "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Sirus, I would like a word with you in private," his father said coldly with a glare that could melt icebergs.
"Sorry father, don't want to be late for class!" he shouted as he grabbed his bag and ran out of the Great Hall.
Sirus knew he was probably going to get another howler for this further down the line, his father was not used to being ignored or deferred, but for now Sirus couldn't really care. For the first time since he had been sorted into Gryffindor, he actually felt like he was actually living in the real world.