Sirius Orion Black pretty much had it all, he thought at the very important age of eleven. He had his first Hogwarts letter, the Blacks' dashing good looks, their superior smarts, and their pure blood. So, quite naturally, Sirius was feeling very much on top of the world. The soon-to-be-new-student beamed—the only thing he needed to make this the best day ever was a reserved seat at the Slytherin table.
Sirius Orion Black was most definitely not scared, he told himself as he boarded the scarlet rocket—the Hogwarts express. He was most definitely not afraid, and especially not of the daunting task of making friends. He affectionately ruffled his own ebony locks. He was handsome and charming; there was no way he'd be left behind.
Sirius beamed, entirely reassured.
Black cloth blinded his stormy grey eyes. He felt ridiculous, and—though he'd never, ever say it aloud—a bit nervous.
Minutes passed and the sorting hat remained silent. Sirius began to panic. What if it never sorted him? Where would he go then? Sirius was sure he was about to cry when a voice echoed within the "Don't worry, for you it'll be GRYFFINDOR!"
Someone tore the hat off his head. And, with a slight grimace, he sauntered (because Blacks always sauntered) to the red and gold table. Gryffindor—his mother would definitely not be happy. His lips fell into a scowl as he thought that he wasn't too happy either.
This, Sirius thought, was not a good day at all. He pouted—handsomely of course, everything he did was handsome—and wanted to go home.
Breakfast looked like it would be equally as unbearable as Sirius's first day. He did not count on another black-haired boy sliding down next to him. "Wotcher?" The bespectacled boy smiled and stuck out his hand. "James Potter."
"Sirius Black." Sirius's smile was much more uncertain, but it was a smile nonetheless.
"Excellent."
And that was the very unexciting, but also very true tale of the start of James Potter and Sirius Black's explosive friendship.
First year was bearable. Gryffindor was not as bad as his family made it out to be. Making friends was not nearly as hard as he thought it would be. And playing pranks was much more fun than he ever could have imagined.
Sirius took back his previous words—first year was amazing. And, for the first time in his life, the heir of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black was not looking forward to summer.