Chapter II
A Strange Sorting
The following months were a blur to Sirius. A blur of his mother's stern remarks and his father's glares and sighs; flying in the garden of their country cottage on weekends, scheming with Andromeda whenever Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella would come over, listening to his private tutors' endless drawling. It did occasionally get lonely, especially on days when his mother would spell his room locked and forbid his exit, as well as everyone else's entry, due to his misbehaviour, but life at Grimmauld Place wasn't always lonesome and miserable. Andromeda made sure of that; she would tell him stories about her secret adventures with that Hufflepuff Ted and show him the Muggle books and songs he'd gifted her. Sirius found them fascinating.
Nevertheless, he could hardly mask his delight when September rolled around. He wasn't expected to, either; attending Hogwarts was a great honour. Even his mother's behaviour towards him turned from cruel and indifferent to something which Sirius could only describe as smug.
"My little Slytherin," she'd croon. "I know you'll make us proud, we Blacks are powerful wizards, rivalled by none."
He'd received his wand three days before the first of September – long and sturdy, made of apple wood and a core of dragon heartstring. Uncle Alphard had told him that the Ministry of Magic wouldn't trace any underage activity in pure-blood households, as it was much more difficult and time-consuming, not to mention pointless, considering it would not be regarded as a violation of the Statute of Secrecy. Thus Sirius practiced his first spells and incantations in the confines of his bedroom, far from his mother's intimidating glare and Bella's mocking sneer. He had, of course, invited Regulus to watch once or twice too; the younger boy showed great interest in his brother's work, and Sirius appreciated having someone who looked up to him.
It wasn't long before Sirius was standing with his trunk and his owl on Platform 9 ¾, although it had seemed like an eternity of waiting. His parents and brother were trailing close behind, the former two with stern, uninviting looks, the latter trying in vain to conceal his excitement and envy.
"I trust you haven't forgotten anything, son."
"No, father, I've got everything with me. I'll be fine."
"I trust you will. Make us proud."
Sirius nodded obediently. Internally, however, exhilaration and eagerness burned in him. Hogwarts was out there, waiting, waiting far away from the traditions and restrictions of the Black household. Waiting for him to prove himself as a great wizard and a good friend, and not just the heir of a hateful line.
He took advantage of his parents' momentary distraction and hugged Regulus tightly. Affection was strictly forbidden in the Blacks' home. Affection was a sign of weakness, and Blacks were not weak. But it didn't matter, because he wouldn't be living with them anymore. He'd be at Hogwarts, and they couldn't control him there.
"Goodbye, mother, father, I will see you at Chr– Yuletide."
Sirius didn't wait for the stony nods he was sure they'd offer; he simply grabbed his trunk and hurried into the Hogwarts Express, the magnificent red steam engine that whistled invitingly at him.
Most of the compartments were full. Despite his courage, which Narcissa ofttimes described as arrogance, he wasn't willing to seat himself near the older students, nor did he want to intrude on Andromeda. So he dragged his trunk to the back of the train, until he found a compartment with just one boy sitting in it. Sirius could easily tell by his small stature and palpable excitement that he was also a first year.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked.
"Not at all!" the boy said. "I'm James Potter." There was a self-assured quality to his voice which Sirius didn't particularly like, but for the first time he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. It wouldn't do to push a potential friend away before they'd even come to know each other.
"I'm Sirius," he responded, taking a seat across the boy.
The boy – James – snorted. "Nice name," he said as he ran his fingers through his messy black hair. "Got a surname to go with it?"
Sirius scowled. "No." He may not have ever liked pure-blood history and politics classes, but he knew who the Potters were, and was sure that if he were to share his surname, they likely wouldn't become the very best of friends. Realistically he knew his surname would be revealed sooner or later, but he wanted to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible.
James shrugged. "What house do you think you'll be in?" he asked. Puffing out his chest, he announced, "I'll be a Gryffindor for sure! Like my dad and my granddad. Everyone in my family was a Gryffindor."
Sirius just shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. What house would he be in? Slytherin, probably. Like every other Black to have ever lived. He wasn't sure he wanted that anymore though, not after everything his cousin had opened his eyes to.
So what happened if he wasn't? Andromeda had said she'd still love him, but what would become of him? Was that even possible? "I don't really know," he finally said. "But I think I'll be happy with any house. Except maybe Slytherin."
James nodded emphatically. "We can agree there."
Talking with James was easy; he was excitable and funny, and he didn't press Sirius for information. They looked for common interests, and quickly found Quidditch and practical jokes to be two of them.
"Puddlemere United," James insisted.
Sirius shook his head. "Montrose Magpies."
"Overrated," said James.
Sirius was just about to argue when the compartment door opened. A rather small first-year wearing Muggle clothing appeared behind it. He blushed once he caught sight of James and Sirius. "May I sit here?" he asked politely. "The other compartments are really full."
James quickly invited him over and introduced himself and Sirius.
The boy stared at them with wide, curious brown eyes. "I'm Remus," he said after a pause. He didn't say anything after that. Instead he retrieved a thick book from his battered trunk and buried his face in it, choosing not to pursue further acquaintance.
Unfortunately for him, Sirius thought, James didn't seem to register that. "So," he began.
Remus didn't react. Whether because he didn't realise he was being addressed, or because he didn't care, neither of the other boys could tell.
"So," James repeated louder, emphasizing the word. "Remus, what do you do for fun?"
The question seemed to startle him. "Uh… I like to read, I guess." His voice was quiet, but his enunciation was very clear.
"That's it?" James asked incredulously. "You read?!"
Remus shrugged. James's attention seemed to make him anxious, and it was clear he wanted to return to his book.
"Are you a Muggleborn?" Sirius asked suddenly. He wouldn't shun the boy, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder. It would explain some of his nervousness. "We don't mind anyway, do we, James? We're just curious."
"Half-blood," Remus answered shortly. "My father's a half-blood too, my mother's a Muggle." He eyed the other two boys carefully. "Are you pure-bloods?"
Both boys nodded, though Sirius caught himself. He couldn't let them know who he was, they'd despise him instantly. What with Bellatrix's reputation as a cruel, belittling witch, he was sure he wouldn't be particularly popular. He realised then how much worse it must be for Andromeda, who was even often confused for her much less pleasant sister.
Speak of the Devil, he thought darkly as the door flew open again. Bellatrix Black stood there in all her glory, formidable as ever, her violet eyes shining with a glint Sirius could only describe as dangerous. "My dearest cousin," she cooed, sending shivers down Sirius's spine. "I knew this was where I'd find you." Her tone changed abruptly, hardening with revulsion. "With the likes of blood traitors and… whatever that thing is."
Sirius shot up from his seat. "How dare you?" he snarled. "You can't talk this way about them!" He drew his wand, but Bellatrix only laughed lazily, drawing her own in response.
"Don't test me, little cousin. You've betrayed the House of Black once, I won't let you do it again. Shall you shame us again, you will face the consequences I deem fitting." Her eyes flashed with fury. "Understood?"
Sirius clenched his jaw. "I don't answer to you, Bellatrix," he said stonily. "I can tell right from wrong for myself, thank you." A cocky smile formed on his lips, making him look braver than he felt. "I can teach you too someday."
The moment Sirius said that, he realised it had been a terrible mistake.
He could almost already feel the curse that was about to roll off Bellatrix's tongue. Her wand was drawn back and her expression was wild. Though his wand was drawn, and James was already on his feet, ready to strike, Sirius knew the battle was lost. Bellatrix was not only the most skilled duelist in her entire house; she was completely unrestricted by the morals that prevented the majority of the Wizarding World from using potentially fatal curses. That in itself made her a rather daunting enemy, especially for two frightened first-year boys who had only recently learned which side of the wand to grab.
What Sirius did not expect was the abrupt interference of a familiar face. It was nothing short of a miracle, the way Andromeda, suddenly at the doorway, grabbed her sister's arm and twisted it back before pushing her outside. Bellatrix was quickly restrained by two sixth year Hufflepuffs; she could be heard shrieking, thrashing, spitting curses and threats she would inevitably carry out.
Andromeda was clearly out of breath when she forcefully slammed the compartment door shut behind her. "Sirius, please be careful," she said. "You know what Bellatrix is like, you've got to watch your mouth around her. I won't always be there at the right time. You could've got your friends hurt too, antagonizing her like that."
"And what was I supposed to do?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Let her insult us, maybe curse us?"
"What were you planning on doing then?" she replied. "Blocking her curses with your vast knowledge of defensive spells? Besting her in a duel with your years of experience? Sirius, there's nothing you can do at the moment. The best you can do is just bear with her."
Sirius huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
"She called Remus an 'it'!" James protested. "And she said I was a blood traitor but I don't think that's a bad thing."
Sirius was quite perceptive; it was a necessary skill when living with Walburga Black and her frequent, dangerous mood swings. Hence why Remus's panicked expression and his nervous flinch did not go unnoticed. What was wrong with that boy? He had little time to dwell on it, however, as Andromeda spoke again.
"I will try to calm Bellatrix as much as possible. But after this incident, she will likely try to seek you out again. Don't give her another reason to get mad at you."
She observed the three first years for a moment before making her exit. Sirius couldn't deny he felt guilty; James and Remus could have been hurt because of his comment. He didn't really know them, but he wouldn't want them on the receiving end on Bellatrix's fury. He really would have to be more careful. Or rather, he'd have to learn to fight better. To protect his friends. Keeping quiet never helped anyone.
"Mate," James said quietly. "Your cousin is psychotic."
Sirius smiled grimly, but stayed quiet. It was honestly embarrassing how dysfunctional his family was.
"I get why you didn't want to tell me your surname. The Blacks are pretty mad."
"You have no idea," Sirius mumbled.
"You're alright though," said James. "You don't seem crazy so far."
Sirius grinned at his new friend and felt relief wash over him. He was starting to like James.
The rest of the train ride was rather uneventful. They met a fellow first year by the name of Peter, but he was quite boring in Sirius's opinion. When the journey had finally reached its end, Sirius jumped off the train as quickly as he could, hungry for a better look at the new world that awaited him.
They were lead down a steep path by an unnaturally large man, with a massive, tangled beard and sparkling black eyes. His voice sounded like thunder through the trees as he called out warnings and instructions to the silent first-years. The tension and nervousness hanging above Hogwarts' youngest students made time pass slowly, still it wasn't long before the woods thinned and the path ended, leading them to the edge of a large black lake.
The view was incredible. A great castle stood proudly on the mountain cliff, adorned with tall, sculpted towers and wide arches. The starry sky shone on the castle's grey stone walls, which were reflected in the still lake, with a surface smoother than glass.
Sirius couldn't bear to pull his gaze from the marvelous sight even as he climbed onto one of the tens of small boats at the giant's instruction. He had seen towers and castles before, but none of them had been this breathtaking.
"Wow," he heard an unfamiliar boy beside him mumble.
Even Remus had looked up from his book and seemed to be in complete awe of the sight before him.
"Can you believe this?" the boy asked in a hushed tone, "that magic is real?"
James snorted, although not mockingly. Sirius couldn't suppress his own snicker either. He found it rather entertaining, how lost Muggleborns were upon entering the Wizarding World.
"I should hope so," said James. "Can you imagine if it wasn't?"
The boy blushed. "Right," he said embarrassedly. "Professor McGonagall said there were kids whose parents had magic too. Mine don't, I'm a… what did she call it? Muggle, I think. So I don't really know what's going on yet."
"Muggleborn," Sirius corrected. "Muggles are people with no magic at all."
The boy nodded emphatically, clearly just now remembering the professor's explanation. "Yes, that. I'm Joseph, by the way. Nice to meet you."
Soon the first-years had gone through the tunnel leading them to the harbour, from which they climbed the mountainside. They marched through wet grass and vast shadows in silence. Until a cry of protest was heard, and the giant had to come to a halt. It turned out James had pulled forward a wet branch like a slingshot while walking and let go of it just as the boy behind him took a step forward, letting it hit him in the face.
"Come on, boy," the giant said gruffly, "yeh don' want ter get in trouble 'for yeh even get sorted."
James, still snickering, put his hands in his pockets and continued walking behind his fellow first-years. Once they were in the castle, a stern-looking witch with her black hair in a tight bun greeted them.
"That's Professor McGonagall," Joseph whispered excitedly.
It turned out his explanation was rather unnecessary, however, as she immediately introduced herself to them. "Before you take your seats in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast," she said, "you will be sorted into one of the four houses – they are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. They each have a long, respectable history, and have produced outstanding witches and wizards. During your stay at Hogwarts, your excellent work and magical triumphs will earn you points for your house. However, any rulebreaking will lead to loss of house points. I expect you each to be a credit to your house, regardless of where you're sorted."
"Make sure you look presentable before entering the Great Hall," she advised. Her eyes lingered on that boy Peter's chocolate-stained robes. "Please wait quietly until I return."
She disappeared behind the chamber doors, and the first-years broke into nervous whispers.
"How exactly do they sort us?" a girl with long red hair questioned.
"I don't know," said the boy that James had hit with the tree branch.
Sirius just then realised, despite having grown up in a pure-blood household, and having three cousins already at Hogwarts, he truly had no idea what the Sorting Ceremony was like. It had simply never come up; he had always just assumed he would somehow end up in Slytherin like everyone else. Was it some sort of test?
James looked at him helplessly, clearly having the very same thoughts.
"My brother said you have to fight a troll," a short boy with blond hair said nervously.
"That's nonsense–,"
"Now," a sharp voice broke through the whispers, "form a line and follow me. The Ceremony is starting."
The Great Hall was remarkable – thousands of white candles were floating over the four long, wooden tables, laid with golden plates and goblets. Above each table hung a banner – a red and gold one with a roaring lion over the table on the left side, followed by a yellow and black one adorned with a badger. Next to it hung a blue and bronze, on which an eagle was spreading its wings, and the last one – the one on the right – was the house Sirius recognised best. A green and silver banner glittered over the table, with a snake uncoiling on the front. He scanned the table for Andromeda, who smiled and nodded reassuringly at him.
He watched anxiously as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years, on which she placed a frayed brown hat. Sirius couldn't deny he was amused when it began to sing, but that wasn't quite enough to quench his nervousness.
As the applause died down, Professor McGonagall's voice sounded again. "When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted."
Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. That was all? That sounded a lot easier than doing spells or fighting creatures.
"Avery, Theodosius!"
Sirius recognised that name; the Avery family was often present during the numerous dinner parties held at Grimmauld Place. And sure enough, a moment later the brown-haired boy was on his way to the Slytherin table. Sirius scowled with distaste.
"Black, Sirius!"
Sirius stumbled out of the line and felt himself walk towards the stool. It felt as though his legs were made of lead, ready to snap at any moment. It was one of these moments he had to remind himself to act like a Black – confident, graceful and undisturbed. He couldn't recall ever having felt so nervous though, not even around Bellatrix. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a balding man with gooseberry green eyes smirking contently.
"Well, well," the Hat spoke in Sirius's ear, and he started. "Another Black. I've sorted many of your kind. But you're different, oh, so different."
Sirius swallowed nervously. What did that mean?
"I see a lot of potential in you, definitely a lot of cunning, but you're impulsive. A bit too impulsive. There's a lot of courage in you too; you're a brave one. Ambitious, but too selfless to fit in with Slytherin. Tell me, do you want to be in that house?"
"I guess not," thought Sirius. "I don't want to be with Bellatrix."
"Oh, but she'll be leaving Hogwarts soon, and Slytherin has put your entire family on the path to greatness."
"They're not great," Sirius thought stubbornly. "They're evil and they hate people they don't even know."
"Is that so?" the Hat said in what Sirius thought to be a challenging tone. "Better be Gryffindor!"
Sirius was shocked. Overjoyed, but nonetheless shocked. What had he done? Some students clapped politely, but the applause died down the moment they realised their pure-blood and half-blood schoolmates had failed to join. Even Professor McGonagall seemed too stunned to take the Hat off his head.
Finally, Andromeda stood up and applauded loudly. That seemed to break the rest of the Great Hall out of its trance; McGonagall grabbed the Hat from his head, the Gryffindor table cheered loudly, and the man with the gooseberry eyes stared on in disbelief.
"We got a Black!" two red-haired Gryffindors yelled tauntingly at the Slytherin table.
Sirius hurried to his table, pretending not to notice as Bellatrix banged her goblet on the table and screamed words like "traitor" and "filth" at him.
"Evans, Lily", "Lawson, David" and "Lupin, Remus" were also sorted into Gryffindor. "Maxwell, Joseph" and "McKinnon, Marlene" joined them soon after. It came as a surprise to no one that James Potter was sorted before he could even seat himself properly on the stool.
The boy James had hit – "Snape, Severus" – turned out to be a Slytherin. "Served him right then," James muttered.
Once they'd reached "Warden, Damian" who was sorted into Ravenclaw, Dumbledore stood up and smiled welcomingly at the loudly applauding students. His blue eyes twinkled and his arms were opened wide, as if being at Hogwarts was, for him too, the greatest joy there was.
"Welcome," he said loudly. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Before we begin our feast, which I am sure you are looking forward to, I would like to say a few words. Firstly, our new students should know that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, as it is residence to many dangerous and rather unfriendly creatures." His twinkling gaze shifted to the direction of the two redhead Gryffindor boys. "Some of our older students need be reminded as well, I believe." Turning to the rest of the Hall, he continued. "After last year's incident, practice duelling has been strictly prohibited both in the corridors and on the grounds."
This time, he did not look at the two boys, but at Bellatrix. Sirius winced. He should have known; it always had something to do with her.
"And now," said Dumbledore, "Let us eat."
The tables piled with various dishes, many of which had been available in Grimmauld Place, and others which Sirius didn't recognise.
"Look! It's Nearly Headless Nick!" someone from the Gryffindor table exclaimed, pointing towards a ghost in a ruff.
The ghost looked rather insulted. "I would prefer it if you didn't call me that," he said indignantly.
"How can you be nearly headless?" asked Joseph, shoveling a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.
The demonstration was not particularly attractive, but Sirius found he didn't mind. He couldn't stop staring at the red tie that had appeared on his uniform, the lion badge on his robes. He was a Gryffindor. He could feel his heart swell with pride. He would not be cruel and violent like his mother and Bellatrix, or cold and cowardly like Narcissa.
"Your cousin really is going to kill you, isn't she?" said James.
Sirius shrugged, helping himself to more sausages. "Probably," he said with his mouth full. "Maybe she's had a heart attack because of me," he added hopefully.
"That's not a nice way to speak about your family," Lily Evans said with a scowl. Sirius noticed she had been pointedly ignoring him and James until that moment. "My sister is pretty mad at me for coming here, but she's still my sister."
"My parents almost didn't let me come," Joseph admitted. "They thought it was some sort of joke."
The two red-haired boys kept offering Sirius more servings. They good-naturedly pushed a few second-year students out of the way to sit beside him. "So," began one of them. "You're a Black."
Sirius nodded. "I'm not like that lot," he said defensively.
"And that's the best part," the other boy said gleefully.
"What more could we have asked for than a perfect little pure-blood snake going against a tradition of, what, four centuries? You saw what happened over there? We've never seen McGonagall shocked."
Sirius suddenly caught on to their train of thought and grinned. "Well, it won't be the last time," he said. "I bet I can make her lose her mind within two weeks. Right, James?"
James nodded enthusiastically. "Right! In fact, we'll start planning the moment the feast is over."
The two boys eyed them carefully before turning to look at one another. "Well then, boys," said one, "that's a challenge. Fabian and Gideon Prewett, by the way, Gryffindor legends."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. His elegant, aloof mannerisms were very similar to those of his family, but the mischievous glint in his eye set them apart. "We'll see about that," he said.
The plates soon started disappearing, and the prefects rounded up the first-years. The feast was over. Sirius was rather glad too; he was too tired to even climb up to his dormitory.
