When the Hogwarts class of 1978 entered the Great Hall as first years, ready to be sorted, all of them were nervous. Some, though, were more nervous than others, try though they might to hide it: Sirius Black's hands, to cut straight to the point, were shaking. They hadn't been on the train, but somewhere between then and now, maybe on the boat ride, his confident facade had fallen, and he couldn't hide his trembling any longer.
His mother instructed him to write that very night, and of course he should probably mention in that letter what house he'd gotten put in. That was the trouble. It wasn't even like he could hide it; he was sure his cousins would mention it to their parents if he didn't fall in line with the family tradition, and the news would make it back to his mother eventually. He repressed a shudder, recalling the goodbyes with his family at King's Cross earlier that day - Regulus had hugged him tight, which had been nice until he'd whispered in Sirius's ear, "Good luck! You'll make it into Slytherin, I know you will!"
A boy called James Potter had sat in the same compartment as him on the train ride in. James stiffened when Sirius introduced himself, apparently recognizing his surname and the associations it held. To his credit, he remained polite despite clearly being uncomfortable, but he visibly relaxed once Sirius started going on about wanting a motorcycle and a record player, and how he really just wanted to grow up to be John Lennon, even though his favorite Beatle was George Harrison, and had James heard their latest album, because Sirius really thought it was better than their earlier stuff, even though it didn't sound as heavy.
James was obviously interested in a Black who was so enchanted by Muggle culture: was Sirius, perhaps, adopted?
"I wonder if there's a spell that makes adopted children look like their new parents," Sirius thought out loud. "I look just like my dad, so it's really the only explanation." James guffawed loudly, but Sirius continued on with a straight face. "I guess we'll know after the sorting. Every Black for the last, er, however many hundred years has been in Slytherin." Sirius's nerves started to show, but he tamped them down and kept himself steady and his tone light. "If I go to Gryffindor, then we can probably just stay I'm adopted."
James seemed to sense his new friend's discomfort and rushed to reassure him: "You'll go to Gryffindor for sure, mate, I can tell!" He rubbed his chin slowly, as though stroking a non-existent beard, and added, "Maybe George Harrison is your real dad."
Sirius raised a brow, intrigued. "Yeah? And who's my real mom, then?"
"Ringo Starr!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.
Once Sirius had thought about it, that theory really did explain a lot. About him, and about Ringo.
But now they were standing in the Great Hall, and some grungy old hat was singing a song about the houses. He could feel his palms slick with sweat, and he started reciting the lyrics to Strawberry Fields Forever in his head, zoning out and trying to ignore the pit of apprehension building in his stomach.
Thanking Merlin that his name was so near the beginning of the alphabet, he watched John Amherst go to the front of the Hall and gingerly set the hat on top of his head. He tried to guess where Amherst would be sent: he walked with too much swagger for a Hufflepuff, Sirius reckoned, but he seemed too nice to go to Slytherin. Gryffindor, Sirius decided.
"Ravenclaw!" the hat called. A nerd. Sirius hadn't considered that option.
He waited for the next first year to head up for sorting, only to realize a few seconds late that the name Professor McGonagall had just called was his own. He strolled up to the little stool she stood next to, pretending stoutly that he was completely unaffected by the situation. That he was definitely not panicking inside. He tried to recite the second verse of Back in the USSR and found himself unable to remember the words.
It didn't matter much, anyways. He found himself sitting on the little stool, looking out onto the entire hall, and then suddenly the hat was on his, covering his eyes. He couldn't see the hall anymore, but he could feel their eyes on him, and he was sure that his brow was sweaty; he felt sorry for whoever was going to wear the hat directly after him.
Ah, another Black, the hat said, presumably - hopefully? - audible only to Sirius, who stiffened upon registering the words. But you aren't quite like the others I've seen, are you?
Just tell me where I ought to go, please, Sirius thought at the hat in what he hoped was an airy tone. I'd like to get a move on so we can eat.
The hat laughed, and it was a strange sensation in Sirius's head. Now, now, be patient. I'm just having a little look around... You're quite interesting, you know. Very ambitious, but that ambition is noble indeed. Sirius was, by this point, focused largely on breathing calmly. In and out, in and out, waiting for the hat to make a bloody choice already.
"Gryffindor!" it called suddenly, and then Sirius's heart was beating out of his chest, and if he was trembling he didn't care. He couldn't even smile, he was just focused on getting the hat off his head and not falling down on his way to the Gryffindor table - his table, now - and pointedly not looking in the direction of Slytherin's table, not wanting to make eye contact with any of his family.
He found a seat at the end of the table closest to the sorting, eager to watch the other first years go up and try to guess where they would be sent. Only one of the next few students was sorted into Gryffindor, but when then they got Elizabeth Callum, Sirius jumped up onto his seat and whooped and hollered, showing his new house spirit. He got disapproving looks from a few of the older students, but the table seemed used to… exuberant displays. He'd have to test the boundaries later.
He was bored again for a little while, until Gryffindor got another girl (at this rate, I'll be the only boy in my dorm, he thought). He recognized the bright red hair from the train: it's Lily Evans, the girl who ignored James on the train. While he could have pegged her as a Ravenclaw, it wasn't a real surprise when she got sent to his table - she seemed nice, but he was pretty sure she could be feisty.
When he bellowed, "Lily!" and clapped even louder than he had for Elizabeth Callum, she threw him a single glare and then turned up her nose, marching past him and further down the table. Feisty.
The ceremony went on so long without another Gryffindor, it felt like ages and Sirius actually climbed off the bench and sat like he was supposed to. He had even started clapping politely for the Slytherin sortings, just to have something to do. And then it happened -
"Gryffindor!"
And it was another boy, finally! Remus Lupin! Sirius didn't hesitate to climb back onto the bench as quickly as he could. Fortunately, Remus seemed a bit stunned at where he'd been placed, so by the time he looked down to his house's table, Sirius was already dancing and cheering for him, with even more enthusiasm than for either of the girls. "Remus! Come sit with me!" If the arm-waving and jig didn't get the kid's attention, Sirius reckoned yelling his name would.
Remus blushed a deep scarlet - he really did seem to be a shy sort - and sat himself down in the seat next to Sirius. Realizing that his new friend (and Sirius did assume they would be friends by the end of the feast) was probably not going to be joining him in giving every new Gryffindor a standing ovation, Sirius settled down onto the bench and gave his new companion a once-over.
He seemed nice. Remus was clearly shy, and he was wearing robes that weren't quite threadbare, but were obviously secondhand. But he had bright green eyes that were darting around the room, taking it all in, and he seemed… nice. Sirius wondered if the other boy was a Muggle-born, and then realized that he had been staring at his new friend instead of saying anything.
"I'm Sirius Black," he said, remembering only at the last moment to jut out his hand for the other boy to shake. "You're Remus Lupin, right?"
"R- right," the other boy said. His handshake wasn't particularly firm. Sirius felt that they could work on that in the coming years. "So," Remus started again, "are you excited to be in Gryffindor, then?" For a moment, Sirius thought he was seriously asking, but something in Remus's smile told him he was just messing around. Thank Merlin, too; imagine having to teach a new friend handshakes and basic social cues. Would have been a nightmare.
"Nah," Sirius said, feigning disinterest, "I'm actually a little miffed the hat didn't consider me for Hufflepuff." At this, Remus gave a snort, which made Sirius break and smirk. Sirius breaking only made Remus laugh, and at some point they just devolved into giggles. They only laughed more when the poor Ravenclaw boy who had just been sorted tripped over himself trying to get to his new table.
After a few moments, their laughter was cut off by applause from around them, and the boys realized that they'd gained another Gryffindor. A girl, of course. Sirius still clapped politely, and he saw Remus do the same, albeit with a little less reluctance. He just didn't know the heartbreak yet, didn't realize that they were stuck with a bunch of girls, girls who probably didn't like fun or pranks.
"So what about you? Did you have a house in mind?" Sirius honestly wouldn't have pegged the kid for Gryffindor, and he wanted to get to know this weird kid.
"Well, my dad's a Ravenclaw, but he never really pushed a house on me," Remus said. "I always thought Gryffindor sounded pretty cool. I'm really glad to have been put here," he said softly. "What about you?"
Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to explain. "Well, I'm a Black, you know? And they've all been in Slytherin." He paused for a beat. "All of them, for centuries. Except me," he added weakly, throwing in jazz hands and a small smile.
"Well, Slytherin isn't all that bad," Remus reasoned. "There have to have been some good ones to come out of it, especially in your family…" He trailed off, noticing that Sirius's jaw had dropped and he appeared not to be breathing.
Suddenly, a deep gasp of breath from Sirius. Remus was hopefully now realizing that Sirius had a flair for the dramatic. "Slytherin? Isn't all that bad?" He shook his head ruefully, placing a hand over his heart. "Remus, you don't say those kinds of things! They're awful," he added in a stage whisper. Sitting up straighter, chest puffed out, he boasted, "I never wanted to be like them, and now I never have to be. I'm a Gryffindor!"
"Ah." Remus didn't seem to know what to say. Then, he seemed to decide that the best course of action was to ignore all the ranting. "So, er, where are you from then?"
Sirius grimaced. "London, but I never get to really see the city. Too full of Muggles, Dad says. I don't get it; we're hiding in the middle of a Muggle city, but we don't even want to see them? What's the point? What about you?"
"Newport, in Wales," Remus said. "It's pretty nice, but -"
He was cut off by yet another round of applause from the table, but this time Sirius had to join in. It was another boy. He mouthed One second to Remus and took his position standing on the bench again, motioning for the newest Gryffindor boy, Peter Pettigrew, to join them across the table. Sirius plopped back into his seat while Peter made his way over and put his hand on his chin, focused on Remus again.
"I'm going to have to do that again in less than ten seconds," he told his new friend (and they were friends now, he was sure of that). The other boy opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about, but as the table politely applauded and Sirius leapt into motion, it became a moot point. He gave Peter Pettigrew a small wave while Sirius yelled for James Potter to come sit with them as well.
Finally, the four Gryffindor first-year boys were sitting in a square with one another, looking each other over with wide eyes and wondering why the bloody hell they couldn't have traded out a few of the girls for more boys in their house. Finally, Sirius broke the silence: "Anyone have any pets? I've got an owl from my uncle, but not a dog or anything fun."
"I have a goldfish," Remus said quickly, suddenly blushing again. "And a rabbit, but I couldn't bring either of those to Hogwarts. I really hope my mum remembers to feed them, she can be a little spacey sometimes. Oh, and I'm Remus, nice to meet the both of you," he said to the two newer boys.
"I'm Peter. We have a cat at home," Peter Pettigrew said, "but my parents keep him around to catch mice, so they didn't let me bring him. They said that if my marks are good enough this year, they'll get me an owl for next year. I'd really like an owl," he added wistfully.
"Well, I'm James, hello to all of you except Sirius -"
"Prat," said Sirius good-naturedly.
"And all I've got in the way of pets is my owl, Ludwig. He's up in the dorms. And there's my mum's owl, and my dad's, but those are at home. Well, my dad's is at his office, it's really more of a work owl."
"James has trouble shutting up," Sirius interrupted before James could go on, "but he's wonderful. We met on the train - I can tell you already, we're all going to be great friends."
Remus shifted in his seat, suddenly fascinated with his hands and crossing them over his lap. James and Peter were too busy beaming and asking each other more questions - "Do you know anyone else who's in our year?" "How do you think the food works here?" - to notice his discomfort, but Sirius was watching him out of the corner of his eye. He gave the other boy a nudge, and then a broad smile without saying anything. Remus tried for a smile.
And then Sirius slapped a hand to his forehead. "I almost forgot! James, Peter, you will never believe what I just heard!" Once he had the other boys' attention, he slung an arm around Remus and pulled him into his side. "Remus here thinks Slytherin's 'not so bad', can you believe?"
This set James and Peter ripping into Slytherin house, and Sirius nudged Remus again, whispering, "James is a lot, but you'll probably get used to him."
Finally, Remus gave a smile, and it was real. "I hope so, or it's going to be a long seven years."