Disclaimer: I own nothing.

My thanks to Daily-chan, because I love her Harry Potter fics and her idea of Sirius befriending Fawkes. And my thanks to HouseoftheBadger for encouraging me to write this.

Mention of abuse and blood and death, you are warned.

This is a try so tell me your thoughts about it.

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The woes of a Sorting Hat (Sorting Hat POV)

"Black, Sirius Orion III," the Professor calls.

A Black, once again. All is the same with them. Somehow there is a script. They arrive at Hogwarts already knowing a lot of magic, especially dark magic and mind magic. Their Occlumency is quite strong, I admit. I have to ask them to remove their shields or I can't sort them, then I send them to Slytherin in a second. As I said, every time the same thing. They're a relaxing break.

Truly, I could easily break their Occlumency shields, but I don't want to.

Oh, well! Let's start with my first line.

"Hail, child of the House of Black. Would you mind..." I somehow like sounding so formal. It remembers me of the times when Godric was still alive.

But I must stop. I failed my first line: this is not a simple child, this is the Heir... I must recognise his status.

"Heir of the House of Black, would you mind removing your shields? It's essential for the sorting."

His light fear reaches me. Why?

He thinks, almost pleading, "Are you allowed or forced to reveal my thoughts?" But I see another weak voice in his head: "A Black does not plead, he demands."

"Of course not," I reply to his first thought.

In a second, his shields are down.

Oh my, I'm not ready for this. There is too much confusion in this head... I can't find what I'm searching for. This boy is a puzzle.

I sigh, goodbye relaxing break.

There are too many conflicting voices in this head: fear and bravery, brain and heart, caution and impulsiveness...

I'd like to sort him in Slytherin, but I can't. I exclude Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, at once. As for Gryffindor... Godric would have been proud of this young boy, but could this child be proud of Godric?

Whenever I think I found the answer, another voice overwhelms me and, seemingly, him.

He doesn't think, he doesn't move, perhaps he doesn't even breathe. He simply sits there.

That's frustrating.

Suddenly I find something I'd prefer not seeing: abuse.

"Firm discipline," a pleased feminine voice corrects me.

Sirius gets a grip on himself and decides to help me: at last he organizes his memories.

I carefully view all of them and... Godric, help me! Godric, the next time you create a sorting hat o something like that, please, make sure of what you're doing.

Should I sort him where he belongs or where he will be safe?

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"You know, you might... not be a Slytherin," I carefully say, I don't want to break him.

Silence, then at the same time two voices reach me.

"That's not a big surprise even if I still hope..."

"The pure heir of a pure family not in Slytherin? I wonder why one should get sorted by an object made by Godric Gryffindor. Why did Salazar Slytherin even allow this?"

Not good.

"Please, I know you are confused. I know what you've been through and I think you allowed me in for some reason, but I can't help and I'm so sorry about this. I can give you some advice but the choice will be entirely yours."

The desperate kid merely nods in his mind.

"Well."

Godric, it's all your fault and maybe you're laughing, but the health and the life of this child are mine to decide.

"You're very clever, Sirius, and cunning. Maybe the most clever Black, and I have seen all of them. Salazar would be proud of you. Unfortunately these same traits made you reflect upon your family's ideas when you were old enough to do it. If your parents had not cursed you, you would have not seen your blood. If they had not forced you to see a muggleborn's murder, you would have not seen his blood. If you were not so smart, you would have never wondered why your and his blood were the same. Your Slytherin's traits make you a Gryffindor. It's confusing, I know. Forgive me."

"So I'm cunning and clever and smart and no Slytherin... And would... could... I mean, what about love?"

"Oh Sirius, you're really lovable, but you won't find friends in Slytherin."

"And James?"

"Well, I haven't met him yet, but in your memory he looked so steadfast and brave and stubborn. If he wasn't Gryffindor, he would be able to destroy me and the castle, I think."

Sirius smiles.

"So?" I ask.

"But I am a Black, I'm a dark wizard."

This is not the imperious voice of his family, but his fear of not being accepted.

"Listen to me very carefully. The world isn't split into good people and dark people. We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are. (1) Your friends will be able to see that."

"Thank you."

"Gryffindor, then?"

"Gryffindor," he states.

And "Gryffindor," I shout.

The Professor reaches out a hand to collect me but Sirius quickly whispers: "Can I visit you?"

"Sure. And Dumbledore's phoenix will be glad to help you."

"Another thing. Put in a good word about me with James."

"Sure," I reply again.

He hops off with a smile.

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(1) Sirius to Harry in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix