Even if Sirius hadn't been set apart, by principle, because he was a Black, he still wouldn't have fit in with the other first years waiting to be chosen. He was, for lack of a better word, dainty. His hands were smooth from a lack of hard work. His clothes were fitted to hang perfectly from his slender frame. His hair was dark, sleek, and well cared for. He was made to look perfect, and anybody with any sense knew that perfection made you unattainable. Because he looked perfect, nobody dared come up to him. Because he was a Black, everybody worth knowing wanted to be far away.

Nobody had wanted to sit with him on the train. He ended up huddling in a car with two other students, a red haired girl and a greasy black haired boy. They had already known each other, so they left him well enough alone. He made himself small in the car (an action his mother surely would have yelled at him for. Blacks are better, so they must behave better.)

Now, as he was called up to be Sorted, a disdainful hush fell over the room. They all knew he would be a Slytherin, but they couldn't complain about him aloud until they knew for sure that he was like the rest of his family. He held his head high, searching in vain for Andromeda in the crowd. His search was cut short when the hat was lowered over his eyes.

Ah, the hat purred, another Black. Hmmmmm, but you aren't like the rest, are you? No, you are far too, the hat paused for a moment to think of a word. Too loyal, it decided. Very bright, though. Very brave. Yes, you are very brave, indeed. Where to put you?

For the first time, Sirius felt his heart speed up. All this time, he had been resigned to his fate. He had never had anybody to nourish a hope with, though he sometimes thought that Andy might have understood. Gryffindor, he prayed. I want to be in Gryffindor.

The hat did not pause before announcing its verdict: "Gryffindor," it bellowed.

Scattered whispers filled the room. He, Sirius Black, was a Gryffindor. What would his parents say? Wasn't he like them? Why wasn't he a Slytherin? Was there something wrong with him? Or, on the other hand, was there something very right with him? He could not answer any of the question he heard as he walked off the platform. Even if they had wanted to, he wasn't sure he knew the answers either.

His walk to the Gryffindor table was very slow. He may be pushed into their ranks, but that did not make him like them. He would surely be tested before he was wanted. As he approached the table, a large movement caught his attention. He turned his head to get a closer look at perpetrator, though his eyes almost passed right over him: a slightly older boy, maybe 16 or 17, was waving wildly. The boy smiled, mouthing at Sirius to come sit with us. Sirius did not hesitate to join him. He didn't have the right to be picky. Nobody else would be so eager.

"You're one of those Black kids, right?" The boy cut to the point, leaning forward cheerfully as Sirius awkwardly shimmied onto a bench.

"Yes," he replied bluntly. As little a right as he had to be picky, he would not stay if this stranger belittled him for his family's reputation. Sirius knew how students at Hogwarts would look at him. Andromeda had warned him ahead of time, whispering that he would learn who was worth talking to. Bellatrix had said something similar, but Andy somehow made it seem more like he would find good friends than friends similar to his mother. Sirius already knew that his mother would mock him for consorting with a - well, with someone not like them, so he needed to make sure that this was someone "worth talking to".

"Cheers," the boy smiled. "Welcome to Gryffindor. I'm James Potter."

Sirius thought he remembered hearing about James Potter, years ago. He had been quite the Quidditch player, high society had said. Such a shame that-

James interrupted his train of thought. "This is Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew," he said with a wave towards two boys sitting beside them. Peter was a small, soft boy with a slightly pinched face. His blond hair was slightly stringy, and his blue eyes seemed watery. He looked very wary, but Sirius wasn't sure if it was directly because of his presence or if that was the boy's normal face. Remus as also very small, but his stature looked to be health related. His hair was a pale brown with a slight hint of grey, but that was hardly noticeable when paired with the striping scars on his face. They both smiled at him, and he tried to smile back. It felt more like a cringe.

Sirius looked at James. He knew what the older boy was doing. James had singled out the three new Gryffindor boys that seemed most likely to be outsiders. A sickly boy, a unexceptional boy, and a Black. Sirius figured that he would rather be alone than be dragged down by these, well, these sorts. He didn't know either boy, so his parents would surely disapprove of them. Still, he was not quite sure that he agreed with his family about blood status. He was not sure that blood mattered if they still had magic. Until he made up his mind and made that clear, his platonic options would be slim. All the same, he would not settle for friends he did not want.

He would not say so directly, he decided. He could shake them in the coming days if they felt like burdens. Until then, he would eat.

Sirius ate like a starving man. He could feel James' eyes on him. They were heavy. Sirius did not want to explain that a common punishment at home was missing meals, nor did he feel the need to explain that he was commonly punished. Instead, he met the boy's gaze head on as he shovelled in mouthful after mouthful of the feast. Remus ate primly, as though he wasn't sure how much he was allowed. Sirius felt almost guilty about it. Clearly, Remus could use a few big meals. Peter just ate. He ate like a boy that liked to eat, and never needed to worry about not being able to.

James talked all through the meal, hands moving wildly as he spoke. Remus and Peter were both very funny, much to Sirius' surprise. Remus was very dry, and Peter was an absolute master at one liners. By the end of the meal, Sirius was as loud as James, laughter letting food fly from his mouth. At home, he would have been reprimanded. The knowledge that he was truly free to behave how he pleased was invigorating, and he was incredibly happy. Almost embarrassingly so.

By the end of the meal, Sirius thought that he just might like to keep the company of these boys. James escorted them to their dorm, which Sirius shared with Remus, Peter, and 2 other boys who felt rather insignificant. James went off to wherever he spent the night, and Sirius was finally able to think about the older boy.

Sirius had heard about the Potters. He knew James was a pureblood, and that his own parents didn't talk much to the Potters. The Potters were a more accepting family than the Blacks, so they didn't exactly run in the same circles. Still, everybody had talked about the Potters a while back, if Sirius remembered correctly. He'd have to be deaf to have heard nothing.

James was almost a good looking boy, Sirius supposed. He had hair that stuck up every which way, but it was dashing on his handsome face. He wore spectacles that looked like they had taken a bit of a beating. His smile was mischievous, but kind. Yes, Sirius decided, he would have been very good looking were it not for the fact that he was nearly transparent. He had probably been appreciated by all of the girls before he had died.