Chapter 1
Opening Act
"Castor," I cooed, "Easy, boy." I clicked my tongue a few times, a habit I developed as a child whenever I wanted him to come to me. Hopefully, he found its familiarity comforting because he has been on edge since the beginning of the week. I didn't know how he knew, but he knew today was coming—cage day.
And it bothered me because I normally never had trouble handling him. Sure, he was troublesome and had a mind of his own and when he went hunting for the first time, he didn't bother to tell my family and I was in tears for two days, convinced he left us forever. To be honest, it made him a pretty terrible messenger owl and my parents had to get another one after a year because Castor was constantly missing. With the addition of the new owl (Lady), Castor was left in my care. But while his independent attitude made him a troublesome postal owl, it made him a great friend… or at least, that's what I thought.
But it now occurred to me as I tiptoed my way towards the little thing that I may have spoiled him with too much freedom if I was having this much trouble getting him in a cage. I approached him gingerly, saddling up to the lamp he perched on with all the speed of a dying snail. Once I got within a three meter radius of the glaring owl, I stopped and simply stood still. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly extended my arm towards him. Easy, easy… Castor eyed me carefully.
"It's okay, boy. I'm not going to hurt you…or cage you…" I promised. If owls could snort derisively, Castor would not have passed up that moment. He didn't even buy it for a second, but fortunately, I had a second trick. I opened my palm to reveal an offering: bit of bacon.
In a second, he swooped down from the lamp and snatched the piece from my hand. Once he had the treat secured in his beak, he turned from me with a swift flap of his wings and made for a speedy getaway.
"Not so quickly," I tutted, and with my other arm, I quickly pulled him into an embrace. Tucked securely under my arm and pinned to my chest, he wriggled and screeched, but looked otherwise uninjured. I sighed. Finally.
"Don't move so much. You might ruffle your feathers," I scolded lightly.
I walked downstairs into the main hall where a trolley cart with my trunk awaited me. At the top was a pristine silver owl cage. It was newly bought because we usually let Castor fly wherever he wants. Come to think of it, he hadn't been in a cage since the Notts visited. Mr. Nott didn't like the way Castor eyed his dinner and asked if I could put him away. I said no. My parents said yes. So I put him away in a cage. After that, he didn't play with me for a week until I threw that cage away. The petty thing.
That was three years ago right here in this house.
Now at the troubling age of ten, I prepared to leave for my first day at Hogwarts.
It's… a change, to say the least, I thought as I placed Castor, now brooding silently, in his cage. It'll be my first time away from my family.
My family, although a reclusive bunch, come from a longline of nobility. Coursing through my veins was the untainted blood of centuries' finest and purest wizards. Just a hundred years ago, the Rivers' name was held in equal status to names like the Lestranges and the Parkinsons, but since then, the neighboring areas around our home have become inhabited by Muggles. It dragged our good name through the mud, which was why my parents and I associated with people little now compared to our ancestors; half-bloods and muggle-borns were below us and pure-bloods were mistrustful of us (that Nott visit certainly did not help). So we kept to ourselves, leaving our home rarely except for work and other necessities. Oh, if my great-great-great-grandmother could see us now.
Perhaps it was for the best though. My parents were busy people. Dad was a healer and always had patients waiting for him while Mum was a scholar of Ancient Runes, devoted to her studies when she was not consulting for a museum. They wouldn't have time to entertain guests, much less entertain me. Their idea of throwing me a birthday party was inviting Evan Rosier over for a playdate.
And sure, I liked Evan and we were quite close, but the other 364 days of the year? Not much. It made growing up a little lonelier than it had to be.
Castor hooted irritably, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Right. I smiled. I looked at him gently, reminded I hadn't been so alone.
"It's just for a little bit. They'll have an owlery when we get there and I'll let you out then," I assured the peeved Castor, though he didn't seem convinced. I clicked my tongue again to relax him.
Suddenly the space before us warped oddly and in a second, my mother stood before me.
"Oh, good, you finally got him in his cage," she remarked tonelessly. She never had much interest in Castor or at least not since we got Lady. Her heels clicked as she strode toward me.
"Come along now, your father is at the station making sure the train hasn't left yet. You've wasted so much time with that bird…"
She grabbed my hand, inspected the trolley quickly to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything and we apparated.
"Your allowance for the month," my father said as he dropped a surprisingly heavy pouch in my hand.
"Oh, thank you," I smiled politely, tucking it into my robes. My father nodded without a word and looked away. Talking wasn't his strong point.
"Now," my mother broke the tension with her stern voice. "Listen to me. Make some good friends—and I mean good friends. You know who is worth talking to and who is not. Don't neglect your studies. We'll owl you some allowance once a month—not that you'll need it much as a first year. Do your best."
She paused thoughtfully before tacking on one final item to the list. In a quieter and even more serious tone, she added, "Don't disappoint us."
I easily met her stony blue eyes; I had no conflict of interest so there was nothing to worry about.
"Yes, Mum. I understand," I replied dutifully. She nodded, satisfied.
"Good girl. Now your father needs to get back to work and I have to owl the museum. We'll be on our way."
"Alright, goodbye," I waved cheerfully. My mother patted my shoulder and apparated away first. My father lingered just a moment more. Without much effort, he lifted up my trunk from the cart and handed it to me. I took it in my hand and—whoa. It was… heavy. But my father didn't notice my struggle. Instead, he patted my back in an uncomfortable, awkward one-armed hug.
"Get on the train," he muttered roughly when he let go. With those last words as a final sendoff, he too apparated away.
Like that, I was alone for the first time—truly separated from my only family. I tried to persuade myself this wasn't so much a loss than a gain; I've gained a chance to talk with people and interact with pure-bloods like myself. This was good for me. Really.
"Last call. All students please board the Hogwarts Express."
Well, here I go. I tightened my grasp on my trunk and the cage handle. I boarded the train.
I recognized Evan Rosier right away. He had butterscotch blond hair, styled plainly in a thin mushroom cut. It looked alright… for now. Wait a few months and the mushroom on top of his head will swallow him. He was talking with two boys. If I remembered correctly, they were Avery and Mulciber. I vaguely recall seeing them at Evan's birthday party a few months back. I wondered if I should approach them. A part of me feared interacting with them; I knew Evan well enough, but not Avery and Mulciber.
Fortunately, Evan spared me of the decision when he noticed me.
"Seph?" He bit back an emerging smile. Evan said something to the two boys and the pair quickly nodded and left. Evan jogged over to me cheerfully.
"Thank Merlin! I thought your parents were going to forbid you from coming to Hogwarts! The homeschooling option was so real," he breathed a sigh of relief. Castor chimed in with a hoot, indicating that option was his preference. I ignored Castor.
"Yes, because they couldn't possibly have had enough of me bored at home after ten years of it," I laughed as though that hadn't seriously been a concern of mine as well. It was. I would rather drill a hole in my eye than stay another seven years in that dull house. Homeschooling was basically the past five years of my life. I've been reading my parents' books for years just because I ran out of things to do and now I had a beginners' grasp on potions and runology. Merlin, I was so glad to be out. Just remembering those days withering away in the family library nearly brought a tear to my eye.
"It's so good seeing you again," I said, trying to sound less attached to Evan than I was. Merlin, I was just so happy to see someone that wasn't a moving photograph in a textbook.
"I'm touched," Evan chuckled understandingly, giving me a pat on the back. "Let's find some seats and catch up, shall we?"
We handed our luggage to some house elves when we walked in the entrance. Much to Castor's chagrin, I gave him over too. I mean, I couldn't exactly show up to the Sorting Ceremony, still holding Castor in my arms. Besides, it was the quickest way to ensure he got to the owlery as soon as possible. Once all of us first-years surrendered our luggage, we followed Professor McGonagall to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. The walk was quite long so Evan and I had some time to chat. Not many first-years were talking, but Evan and I hadn't seen each other in so long so it was hard to stop.
"Of course I remember the Pompion potion prank!" Evan grinned. "Mrs. Goyle was so upset we turned her son into a pumpkin and then Mum got so mad. She almost didn't invite you for my next birthday. She told me that if you came, the Goyles wouldn't show up. Of course, I just told her, 'Win-win.'"
"Aww, and here I thought I didn't see them last year because they still hadn't found the cure," I laughed. "But I'm glad you liked the potion. When I saw the recipe in one of my books, I knew it'd be the perfect gift for you, but I guess I forgot to consider everyone else's reactions. Was your mum really so mad?"
"Oh, yeah," Evan snickered at the memory. "She nearly blew a fuse. Especially since the Goyles are our close friends. Goyle's a second year now, you know. I bet he's been planning his revenge for a while so you should watch out." He paused before adding, "While you're at it, beware of Crabbe."
"Why?" I asked, bewildered. "I haven't done anything to him."
"Yeah, but after you left, I slipped some of the potion into his drink too. He was pissed and thought it was you. I just never bothered to correct him."
"Evan!" I gasped, horrified. "You traitor!"
"I did what I must, Seph," Evan shrugged, though tone solemn. "I did what I had to survive."
"Don't be ridiculous! I have two heavyweight second-years after me already and it's still my first day!"
"Not completely my fault."
"Half of it is your fault. Take some responsibility."
"Alright, fine, I'll stick by your side until we graduate or until Crabbe and Goyle graduate—who knows how long that will take?—and we'll fend off the pair together. How does that sound?" Evan suggested with a playful wink.
I grinned at the thought. I was used to only seeing Evan twice a year, but now we were stuck in the same school together. Not bad. Not bad at all. "I'm holding you to that promise."
Suddenly, the crowd in front of us stopped moving.
"Ahem, first-years, we've arrived at the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall announced. "Enter quietly and we'll start the Sorting Ceremony right away."
We shuffled in slowly. A few first-years looked around nervously. I overheard one girl whispering, "What if I don't get sorted into any house?" to which I scoffed. Hufflepuff. When we were all gathered in the hall, Professor McGonagall walked to the front where all the professors were lined up. Before the professors' table were a simple stool and a wrinkled hat. I immediately recognized it as the Sorting Hat from the books.
"When I call your name, come up and have a seat on the stool," Professor McGonagall instructed. "ADLER, IRENE."
"Avery is probably going to be the first Slytherin," Evan whispered as we observed the ceremony. Avery was the third person up and like Evan predicted, was the first Slytherin sorted that year. The upperclassmen at the green and silver table cheered loudly as they welcomed their first recruit of the year.
"Black should be next, right?" I knew the Blacks had a son our age though I rarely ever saw him, of course.
To my surprise, Rosier didn't say anything, but clenched his teeth at the name. "Who knows?" he replied, sounding restrained.
"BLACK, SIRIUS!" Professor McGonagall called.
"There he is. Hey, he's rather good-looking," I joked. Evan rolled his eyes.
Well, he was attractive. He had icy gray eyes, black hair swept up stylishly, and a sort of daring smile. "Maybe you can ask him for hair styling advice after all th—"
"…GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat declared.
Silence swept the hall.
Huh? I stood there, stunned. What just happened?
The entire Slytherin table was just as confused. A few of them were angry and some even disgusted. On the other hand, the Gryffindor table looked absolutely thrilled and gave the boy plenty of pats on the back and handshakes. One unsorted first-year with glasses in front of us seemed just as excited. He called out Sirius's name multiple times with uncontained enthusiasm.
But the one who seemed most pleased with the decision was… Black himself. He wore the broadest grin and returned every handshake and hug with all the pride he could muster. He even blew a kiss to the crowds before sitting down beneath the red and gold banner.
Beside me, Evan snorted.
"Thought so. Sirius has been like that for years now—he doesn't commit to the family, his blood. Dad's convinced he's going to be a traitor. He's all but cemented that belief now," Evan explained.
I had no idea. Sirius Black who was raised by the prestigious Black family… to turn out like this… what a shock.
Or rather, what a disappointment to us all. I shook my head sympathetically.
"It must be difficult for your family. He's a cousin of yours, isn't he?"
"Yeah, my aunt on my dad's side married his mother's brother. It's a stretch, but we're cousins." Evan didn't look proud of the connection.
"How about his little brother? Is he alright?"
"Regulus? Regulus is a good kid, thankfully. I don't think Mrs. Black could have lived if both her sons ended up like Sirius," Evan sighed. That was good to know. At least Mrs. Black would have one son to be proud of when she hears the news that her oldest son was a Gryffindor.
Gryffindor. Part of me still couldn't believe it. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Hey, it's your turn soon," Evan said, changing the subject. He smiled expectantly at me, uplifting the mood.
"Right," I forced a smile through my teeth. But I was worried. If that happened to Black… could it happen to me?
"RIVERS, SERAPHINA."
"Don't be nervous," Evan whispered, encouragingly. "You have a really stupid name and now the whole school knows it including your professors and peers and they'll probably remember it for the next seven years, but don't think too much about it."
Well, that wasn't what I wanted to hear. I side-eyed him.
"…Thanks, Evan." I muttered, unamused, though to some extent, grateful for the distraction. "See you soon." Hopefully.
He smiled back.
I climbed up to the stool where Professor McGonagall placed the hat on top of me. My fingers curled around the seat nervously and I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the decision of a lifetime.
But it didn't come. All I got was small-talk.
"Miss Rivers, what a pleasure to meet you."
"Same, I guess," was my half-hearted response.
"Your parents were proud Slytherins, if I remember correctly."
"And I'm hoping to continue the proud tradition," I not-so-subtly hinted with a grin.
The Sorting Hat remained silent as it quietly thought to itself.
"You're quite lacking compared to them," he suddenly declared.
The remark nearly choked me. "Excuse me?" I retorted, highly affronted. My injured pride immediately overtook my initial fear of being sorted wrongly. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Hmmm… motivate yourself. Take initiative. Ambition will enable you to do what you normally can't. That's my advice to you."
"Thanks…" I replied though it sounded forced and hollow even to me. But unsurprisingly, I was still feeling bitter.
The Hat chuckled. "You'll understand someday. But we shouldn't talk any longer. Enjoy your time here at Hogwarts, Rivers."
"Thanks," I thought, more sincerely this time, just as the Sorting Hat announced, "SLYTHERIN."
I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way towards my rightful seat at the Slytherin table. I belonged now. No need to worry. Feeling more at ease, the Hat's advice was quickly put out of my mind.
"Welcome, Rivers," a tall blond boy whom I recognized as Lucius Malfoy praised. A few others nodded and smiled at me as well.
"Thank you," I replied humbly. Malfoy was a very respectable member among us pure-bloods so it was nice to know he didn't hate me right off the bat. Goyle and Crabbe on the other hand…
"Hey, guys, it's Rosier! Over here, Evan!" someone else shouted. Evan's extended family and friends all cheered and high-fived him as he walked past. Avery and Mulciber personally stood up and clapped him on the back. I observed the exchange as I awaited my turn to congratulate him.
"What a coincidence! We're Slytherins too, Rosier," Mulciber smirked as he bumped shoulders with Evan.
Avery, who was calmer and more serious, bore a cheeky smile. "Looks like we'll be seeing lots of each other… again."
"I expected as much," Evan shrugged casually, though grinning.
Evan to walk over to me and together, we found seats at the end of the table where we quietly observed the remainder of the ceremony. Only two more Slytherins were sorted after us: two boys named Severus Snape and Travis Wilkes.
Wilkes sat with Avery and Mulciber; the three had been friends for a while, I remembered. And if I wasn't here, Evan would be sitting with them too, I imagined. I wondered if Evan actually preferred my company or just felt sorry for me.
The other boy, Snape, looked just the tiniest bit nervous as he trudged over to the table. The Slytherins were welcoming, but it didn't appear to ease him. Evan noticed and naturally invited him over to sit with us.
"Hey, sit with us! You're Severus, right?" Evan smiled at the gloomy boy. Snape's long black hair nearly covered his eyes.
"Yeah," he answered simply, settling down on the bench seat beside Evan. Not the conversational type, I guessed. But what Snape didn't know was awkward loners were no match for Evan's effervescent personality. I knew from experience.
"You don't mind if I call you Severus, right? We're going to be classmates for the next seven years so I thought I'd just go ahead and get on first-name basis right away. I'm Evan Rosier, by the way. You can of course call me Evan."
"Evan," he repeated, looking up. "I have a friend named Evans."
"What a coincidence. Introduce us sometime," Evan laughed, pleased to be drawing Snape out of his shell. "This is my friend Seraphina, by the way."
I smiled and waved. "You can call me Seph—or Rivers, if you prefer my surname."
"Call her Seph," Evan recommended. Evan proceeded to ask more questions about the boy. Where was he from? What were his hobbies? What's his bloodline like? After a while, Evan also started including the others at the table into the conversation as well, introducing Snape to Avery, Mulciber, and Wilkes. Then he introduced himself to the ones we didn't know such as the half-bloods in our house.
Meanwhile, I thought I would pour myself some orange juice as he made dinner talk. I took a sip as my eyes fell on Evan. He had such a… way with people. I was again reminded that even if he was my only friend, it wasn't true vice versa. I wondered how much time I would actually have with Evan in reality if he had so many other friends to entertain too. Seven years together? More like two and a half if I'm lucky, I thought jokingly as I took another sip.
A part of me felt like an outsider despite my pure-blood affiliation. Pure-bloods should feel most comfortable here of all places, surrounded by all these Slytherins. They're supposed to be like kin. But I've been isolated from most of them for so long. I'm an outsider.
Something made me turn to the Gryffindor table. I wondered…was Black considered an outsider there? He, who should be sitting where I sat now. I searched for his head in the crowd.
When I found him, it was obvious he wasn't. He was laughing along with the glasses boy from earlier and seemed to be becoming fast friends with two other boys. He was nothing but smiles and spitting his food out accidentally from his uncontrollable laughter. Even though he should have been here with us under the silver-green lighting, he looked right at home beneath all the red and gold.
I observed silently. I guess I should try a little harder.
AN: WOW, this is such a long chapter. But if you got through it, I'm very proud of you and thank you so much for giving this story a chance. I know Seph is kind of an arrogant character, but it comes with the story. She'll get better.
This fic was previously under the title "Another Sky," but I quickly discontinued it because I didn't like the original writing. However, the story itself stuck with me and I wanted it written.
Really quickly, I just wanted to ask a fun question to you all. It's just something I've noticed and thought I'd ask what you guys think:
In general, I feel like in Sirius fics or mopre specifically, SiriusOC fics, there are two interpretations of Sirius's character:
1) a smart and good sort of guy who's more focused on his friends and doesn't date much, but when he does, he does it seriously. He has his rebellious attitude, but is generally a nice and understanding guy.
2) a cheerful, flirtatious player who's the most popular guy at school and is focused on having a fun time at school (with girls?). Very funny, very confident, and very proud. Can appear cocky and mean.
So which interpretation do you think is most accurate? Or which do you prefer? If anyone cares to know what I think, I'll leave my answer in the next chapter.