Hello, everyone! Welcome to what I hope is the improved Dynamic. Seeing as I am a huge stickler for canon (huge, but not rabid; I am but a moderate constitutionalist), I could not bear to be working on something I could see was wrought with mistakes. So, I've fixed it! As well as smoothed out the formatting.

Whatever is "true" in this story is only true in this story, meaning the chapters mesh together into one, non-chronological narrative but don't apply in any other works I may write. Let's see how this turns out.

If you are new to this collection of vignettes, hurrah! I hope you enjoy it. If you have read this before and see good things, pray tell; if you have read this before and miss some of the old content, tell me and I can always upload it somewhere.

Now, without further ado…

1.

Word: Buzz

Character: Sirius Black

When: September 1971

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The world suddenly seemed a thousand times bigger as Sirius made his way over to his seat, the Hall quieter than usual and a strange, roaring buzz filling his ears as the school watched the renegade Black sit someplace other than the Slytherin table. Maybe the world wasn't bigger, he thought blankly as he swung his legs over the bench. Maybe he was just smaller. Whatever had happened between the moment the professor had put the old hat on his head and the moment it had come off, it had changed everything; he was no longer in a world he could honestly say he recognized. The entirety of the Great Hall was demanding his attention all at once: the dark lines streaking through the wood, the gleam of the candles on the golden plates – had they always been gold? For some reason he had been expecting them to be silver – the inky black of the Hogwarts robes contrasting against the surprisingly warm hues highlighted in the stone. And it was painfully obvious to Sirius the way no one was really looking at him, how even though he was at the Gryffindor table with a bunch of other students, he was sitting by himself.

Sirius swallowed hard as he looked up, trying his best to look casual as the Sorting continued. The eyes of the Slytherin table were glaring at him, burning holes into his back, and he answered by putting on an expression of defiant nonchalance, a practiced look he had learned from his family in the halls of Grimmauld Place and altered to suit him better. He would not give weight to their derisive stares right now; he would not dignify them with his attention. He was a Black, albeit one in Gryffindor – Gryffindor! – and he was not going to let anyone ruin his first night here.

Making room for the redheaded Lily Evans, Sirius gave her what he hoped was a winning grin; it was abruptly replaced with a scowl as she turned her back firmly against him, leaving the boy to watch the others being sorted without room for commentary. It occurred to Sirius that James Potter had said he had wanted to be a Gryffindor, like his father before him; he hoped that the boy's wish came true. He and James had hit it off on the train, right? For the most part, anyway. Which would mean that Sirius would have a friend in Gryffindor, in his dorm – as soon as the image of the two of them rooming together appeared in his mind he began to silently beg for it to come true. He would be able to handle anything thrown at him – and things would be thrown at him – so long as he had someone to face it with.

As it turned out James was indeed classified as a Gryffindor, along with some others, among them a boy named Remus Lupin who looked rather peaky and a pudgy boy named Peter Pettigrew. Neither of them looked particularly interesting straight off the bat, but Sirius decided that if they were going to be rooming together for the next seven years they might as well start getting along. Some good conversation might also distract him from the sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach that made everything that had just magically appeared on the dishes before him look a lot less appealing than it normally would.

"So!" he said with more enthusiasm than was necessary as he took a roll. "We've got Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew, and Evans, right?" They each nodded their heads, looking a little bemused, though Pettigrew looked rather delighted to be remembered. He tossed the bread from hand to hand, trying to do something about his energy; he didn't think it'd be a good idea to shout at the entire Slytherin table to stop staring at him, especially since that'd only draw even more attention to him. The buzzing in his ears grew, and he pressed on. "Looking forward to our first class?"

The others, however, weren't quite as eager to converse as Sirius would have liked, Peter being the only one interested in talking; by the end of dinner Sirius had resulted in feeling worse, not better. His heart sank as he noticed James giving him curious looks the entire time, glancing between him and the Slytherin table, who were now openly shooting Sirius looks of loathing. Sirius already knew that James didn't really like Slytherin, and as pureblood as himself, Sirius was sure the bespectacled boy would recognize the Black name as easily as any other; he himself had told James that his entire family had been in Slythern. Still, he obviously wasn't like them – he was in Gryffindor, after all! Why was he being so weird about it?

The night in their dorm had been awkward, but Sirius supposed it could have been worse. He had chosen the bed next to James's, and James didn't seem to be bothered by it, so that was heartening. Lupin changed in the bathroom – that was weird – and Peter tried to keep Sirius and James's focus on him by telling really bad jokes. Sirius's first instinct was to tell him to shut up, but seeing as he had enough enemies at this school as it were, he figured it wasn't a good idea to make another one in his own dormitory. Sirius tried to lull James into conversation, but James finally brushed him off with an, "I'm tired, and we have class tomorrow" and Sirius gave up. He spent the rest of the night trying to fall asleep and failing, too nervous about what the next day would bring to calm down.

Over the next few days James was still a little cool with Sirius, though as time went on he began to open up again after Sirius made a few snide remarks in the halls between classes about Snape's apparent inability to use shampoo; he still kept his distance, however, and Sirius could help but feel betrayed by the boy. Peter, predictably, continued to mop up all the attention he could get, hovering around him like a persistent fly. Evans was still pointedly ignoring him, preferring to spend her time with that greasy-haired Snape, but Sirius felt that was a small loss; not like he had liked her much to begin with. Lupin kept to himself, always looking mildly curious but never joining in, even when invited, and so eventually everyone stopped trying. In the end, Sirius felt a little invisible in his dorm and common room, the only reassuring indication of his presence coming from Peter's rapt interest in him, something that could grow annoying at times but he accepted gratefully nonetheless.

His family's House, on the other hand, was doing its hardest to make sure Sirius didn't forget his twisted existence. They had gathered the entire Slytherin population against him, something he was sure didn't go unnoticed, and launched quite an offensive at him. Lucius Malfoy and his little gang simply adored hissing comments in the halls as they passed him, hexing him whenever his back was turned and laughing cruelly when he failed to protect himself adequately. Narcissa covered the social front, spreading every rumor she could possibly think of, many of them wildly improbable but feeding the school's need for a scandal early on in the year. For an eleven year old who had been looking forward to school it was a nasty surprise, one accompanied with quite a few bloody lips and unpleasant stares. The House colours he was forced to wear didn't help matters; any other house, even Hufflepuff, might have been acceptable, but Gryffindor was unforgiveable, and he was reminded of it every day he had to put on his uniform. He might was well have told his mother to sod off in front of all of his relatives, for all love he was getting for it.

It lasted for days. As time passed and the treatment did not cease, he stopped looking to the professors for help; any sense of trust he held in them evaporated the moment they failed to help him or to punish any of the wrongdoers under the pretense that there was no proof. Instead of instilling a sense of sympathetic pity for anyone who had been teased for something he couldn't help, Sirius formed a sense of deep, strong hatred towards the Slytherins and their habit of rallying behind a strong character rather than forming their own opinions. And above all, there was a burning fury inside of his chest threatening to explode, furious with himself for allowing him to be subjected to this ridicule and to allow it to get to him so badly. He desired nothing more than to strike back, to fight and show them he wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing, but he was caught. The Howler he had received on his third day from his mother still echoed in his mind, accusing him of being a traitor; his older Housemates would help him whenever they were around, but more often than not he was attacked when alone or surrounded by other woefully useless first years, forced to arrive late to class with a large purple eye or boils in uncomfortable places or dripping wet for no apparent reason. A part of him wanted to simply drop out or to implore Dumbledore to allow him to switch houses, but another part of him, the part of him that was regrettably Gryffindor, insisted upon sticking it out.

And then, suddenly, everything changed again.

It was on the way to Transfiguration. Peter was going on about the differences between scrambled eggs and fried eggs, and Sirius and James were pointedly ignoring him, Sirius unwrapping a chocolate frog to tide him over until lunch and James skimming over the reading he had forgotten to do for class the night before. Suddenly, just as he bit into the frog's neck, he heard a loud, "WATCH OUT!" and he instinctively ducked, his hair ruffling as a hex barely missed him from overhead.

Spitting the frog out his mouth, Sirius whipped out his own wand, turning and shouting out the first jinx he could think of; unfortunately he missed his mark, and a second later he felt his wand arm go numb after a bright orange jet of light hit it.

"Bugger," he snarled, looking down at his now useless appendage and wishing he had faster reflexes. Now what was he supposed to do?

The buzzing in the halls grew louder as people stopped to watch, whispering to each other, and Sirius grit his teeth to keep from yelling. Why weren't any of them helping him? Half of them probably knew how to get rid of the hex; why were they all just watching? Why were they all so damn useless? If anyone deserved to be hexed, it was them for just taking up space instead of actually being helpful.

"What are you looking at?"

Sirius looked up to see James glaring at the tallest of the three Slytherins, his wand pointing straight at who James obviously assumed was the leader. He looked absolutely livid, and Sirius's eyes widened. What was going on?

"You stop hexing my friend right now," James said fiercely, "or I'll make sure you regret it."

"Oh yea?" laughed the shortest one. "What'll you do, eh firstie? Levitate a feather at us?"

"James, what are you doing?" Sirius hissed. "These are sixth years, they - "

"I'm tired of watching," James said simply, his eyes never leaving his opponents' faces. "Even you need backup sometimes, Black."

"But - "

"Come on," drawled the tallest, drawing his wand again. "Let's get this over wi -"

"Wingardium leviosa!"

There was a cry of surprise as a Ravenclaw third year found her book stolen away from her by James; before anyone realized what was going on, the textbook was beating the three Slytherins severely about the head, smashing their noses in particular as hard as it could. Sirius watched on, gaping, as the trio was effectively kept from saying any countercurses; he was so engrossed by the sight he didn't even notice it at first when James started tugging at his good arm.

"Are you daft? Come on, let's get out of here, before they get their brains back," James hissed, pulling so hard now that Sirius felt his shoulder pop a little. "Unless you want this arm to - "

"All right, all right, I'm coming," Sirius huffed, looking back one last time and relishing the sight of the three older Slytherins being pelted by – what was that, two textbooks?

"How'd you manage two?" Sirius panted as they jogged, Peter left behind in the crowd.

"Two?" James shot him a funny look as they skid around a corner. "I only did one."

"There were two when we left," explained Sirius, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Oh, crap - "

"I dunno," gasped James, catching Sirius's to keep him from falling. "Like I said – where in the bloody hell is the Hospital Wing?!"

"This way." Sirius pushed up ahead of James and led him there, already well acquainted with the route.

"Hey!" Sirius nearly fell over as James caught him by the arm again, pulling him into a standstill, and he turned, his expression confused and a bit exasperated.

"What's with you and trying to rip my arm off?" Sirius demanded.

"Sorry," James apologized, his face a bit flushed, before looking down at the floor and shaking his hands through hair. "No, no, not just for the arm, for - "

Suddenly Sirius understood what James was trying to do, and abruptly cut him off. "I don't want to hear it," he said sternly, and he meant it. The kid looked pathetic enough trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say without actually having to say it. "Now come on, now I can't feel both of my arms, and I don't think McGoogles is going to be too pleased with both of us being late."

James raised his head, more than a bit dazed. "But - "

Sirius raised his good hand to shut him up, and it worked. "I said I don't want to hear it," Sirius repeated, the corners of his lips twitching up. "You look like a right twat just standing there awkwardly like that; I don't want to add to your embarrassment. Besides," he added, looking away and lowering his hand, "I owe you one."

"No, you don't," James responded bluntly. "I was the one who - "

"Okay, we need to stop before we look even more like tossers," Sirius mumbled. James nodded sheepishly, and they stood there awkwardly for a minute before James said hesitantly, "Um, so, that Hospital Wing…"

"Right. This way."

And from then on the school would continue to buzz about one Sirius Black, but not quite for the same reason.