I feel like writing a story about my favourite characters (Peter does not count), so here it is! Give it a try, please?
"James, wake up!"
He heard his mother's voice, but he didn't really need to. He had been up for hours. James checked his trunk four times. Uniform (three sets of black plain work robes, one black plain pointed hat, one pair of protective gloves and one winter cloak), wand (11", Mahogany, pliable), books (he didn't know all the names by heart, sorry), his father's cloak (or at least it was what he had said to him, since it was packed and his father told him not to open it till he arrived at Hogwarts), cauldron (pewter, standard size 2), telescope, brass scales… Everything was right.
He was going to Hogwarts. That was the only thing passing through his mind. His father told him everything about it. James was going to be in Gryffindor, the best house of Hogwarts, he was sure of it, make some friends, learn to do all the spells he saw his father perform.
On his bed, there was his unfold letter, that he had read, at least, twelve times. Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall. His father, on the night that the letter arrived, had showed him his own letter, and they were practically identical.
James he descended the stairs, smelling the delicious bacon his mother always made in special days like that. She appeared on the door, smiling at him.
"You had already changed clothes!" she said, enthusiastically.
"I'm eleven, mom" James said, sitting by the table.
"I know, I know" She placed the plate in front of him, sitting on the other side "I'm so proud".
James would have answered, but his mouth was full with the delicious bacon. He loved bacon. And if he could've said something, it would be something along the lines bacon bacon bacon bacon.
After he finished, watching the plate float from the table to the dishwasher, James couldn't stop thinking that he would be able to finally do that. His father appeared on the kitchen, kissing his mother and approaching on his side.
"I'm sorry for not going with you" he said, kissing his forehead.
"It's okay" James said, meaning it. His father was an auror, and had to go work everyday, on important and super cool missions. It was really okay.
"And don't worry. I will love you the same independent on the house you belong"
"I know" James nodded, watching he disappear on the front door.
It was a lie and he knew it. His father wasn't going to disinherit him if he got Slytherin as result, but things wouldn't be the same and he knew it. And he was afraid.
His mom disappeared and appeared on the stairs, carrying his trunk. James hurried to carry it, but his mother refused.
"Don't" she said, smiling "Let me do this for you while I can".
James smiled, feeling pain on his chest, but he didn't let it show. He held his mother's hand, disapparating.
Sirius took a deep breath, closing his eyes tight. You will belong to Slytherin, he heard his mother's voice on his ear. You will finally be a proper Black.
The word finally always got him straight in the feelings. He never felt loved by his mother, and recently he started thinking he deserved that hatred. He indeed never did everything like his mother taught him. He didn't felt disgust from mudbloods. He envied them. He wanted to be one, if that would make him happy.
But, of course, he never told that to his mother.
Slytherin, he thought. The cunning, ambitious and powerful. He wasn't cunning. Neither ambitious or powerful. He didn't feel like a Slytherin. But he had no choice and he knew it.
Sirius heard strong knocks, which scared the thoughts away from him. Kreacher was on the stairs, carrying his trunk. Walburga soon appeared too, and Sirius had no reason to stay and avoid the conversation he knew that would happen.
"Sirius" His mother called, and he sat by her side on the sofa. "If anything happens, you will always have your cousins there with you. And don't be a little prat, cast a hex in whoever insults you" a rare smile appeared on his mother face, but Sirius couldn't smile. "Oh, c'mon. Don't you think I don't know the ones Bella taught you? But, most of all, stay out of trouble. By that, I mean don't consort with any type of mudbloods. These generation, they must have even penetrated Slytherin! Don't talk to Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, and don't take any crap from a know-it-all Ravenclaw. Make us proud."
Sirius avoided eye contact. He didn't want his guilt to transparent. He wanted to make friends, independent of the house. I mean, they can't be that bad, can they?
He nodded, still looking to his shoes.
"Well" his mother said, after some time "Go say goodbye to your brother".
Regulus¸Sirius tought, with all the guilt that he felt. He ran through the stairs, reaching his brother's room. He was there, looking at the window. Sirius knock on the door, which made Regulus jump.
"Sirius" a smile appeared on his face and it lit Sirius heart "I thought... I woke up now, I thought you were already gone…"
The pain in his voice hurt Sirius more than any look his mother could give.
Sirius hugged him, stroking his hair "I would never leave without saying goodbye".
"I don't want you to go" his muffled voice said, against Sirius' clothes "I want to go with you".
"You will, next year" Sirius looked straight in his eyes, which were puffed from crying "I'm sorry, Reg" His voice broke in the last words, and he had to reunite all his forces to continue "I'm sorry for leaving you here".
Sirius heard his mother calling his name and Regulus froze. Their mother would kill him if she saw him crying. He gave him one last hug, before walking away and closing the door.
Remus was frightened.
He must say, he was completely confident yesterday. He made sure to be. I mean, Dumbledore think it will be safe, so no worries right?
Nope.
It wasn't until his father arrived home he thought about it. He just said a few words. "Don't worry, Rem. You'll be fine" and then, to himself "Isn't Albus the kindest person ever?".
Kindness. The word he analyzed since them. Cause what if Dumbledore wanted him there? His father must have told him a lot about what he had been through. What if he wanted him to have, at least, a happy childhood, even with some risks?
The right word wasn't kindness. It was pity.
And Remus had enough pity from his parents.
But he didn't let it show, though. His father was too excited to Remus to crush it. He had brought him Swedish Chocolate, Remus' favourite, which means a lot. He couldn't crush his parents' happiness from finally having, or at least pretending to have, a normal son.
"What house do you want to stay, Remus?" he heard his mother voice, but she didn't raise her eyes from the knitting book.
"Ravenclaw" he answered, confidently.
Remus was clever, he knew it. Since he was nine, his father has been teaching him. Just the theory, since he didn't had the age to own a wand or perform his own spells (but his father knows he had stolen his wand once or twice to practice one). He also read a lot of books, magical and muggle. Most of them were for joy, but it was kind of the only thing for him to do in his house.
"I also think so" she said smiling, working on the jumper she always made for him "Just know that we will always love you"
Remus admired his parents. Their ability to love him, not matter what. Not even his lycanthropy could stop that. But he knew what could minimize it. If he got sorted into the Slytherin house, things would be different. His father always hated Slytherin, since his school ages. Remus wasn't sure of what he would think of him if he became one.
But I'm not, he assured himself.
He followed his father and his mother outside. He never apparated before, and he wasn't sure if that was excitement or fear. But before he could say something, they were gone.
"Hufflepuff isn't bad, Peter!"
"It didn't said it was bad, dad" Peter said, leaning on the couch "I just said I don't belong in there".
Actually, he wanted to say he feel like he didn't belong anywhere. The more his father told him about the houses, the more horrified and desperate he felt. He wasn't kind. He wasn't brave. He wasn't clever. He wasn't cunning.
So what was he?
Peter, he answered with bitterness. Just Peter, the useless.
He would know the answer on the Sorting, of course. But all he could make in his head is that the Sorting Hat would freak out, telling that his letter was a mistake and he didn't belong in there.
"Peter" his mother called, waving in front of him "You're going to be okay. We will always be proud and love you, you know that".
Yeah, wait till the letter telling your son is a disgrace and repeat that.
"We have to go" she said, holding his hand. His father was already outside. They had rent a muggle car, since they live close to the station.
Peter watched his house by distance, wondering how many time he had until he was stuck in there again.