The Great Hall

The grand wooden doors to the great hall swung open, and an excited chatter spilt out onto the stairs. James stretched his neck in an attempt to see over his peers, gazing eagerly into the hall. Beside him, Peter twisted his fingers nervously, working them into a sweat.

"Relax, mate," James said, placing a hand on the chubby boy's shoulder. "Why're you so nervous anyway?"

Peter looked up to James and pulled his eyebrows together. "I'm going to get up there," he said in a high, panicked voice, "and they'll put that hat on my head, and nothing's going to happen. Everyone's going to realise that I'm not really a wizard, and that I don't belong here, and then they're going to have to send me home, and I'm-"

"Woah, Peter," James cried, tightening his grip on the boy's shoulder, "take a breath, mate."

The throng of first years had begun to shuffle into the hall, following a stern looking woman who had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. James kept his hand on Peter's shoulder as they began to move in.

"Look, none of that's going to happen. You'll get up there, the hat'll 'um' and 'ah' for a few moments, and then it'll cry out a house and you'll be fine," James assured him. "And if you're really lucky, you'll be in Gryffindor with me!" He beamed and let his hand drop, turning away to eagerly absorb the scene.

Peter watched him in a daze of wonder before giving a small nod. He balled his fingers into sweaty little fists and walked a fraction taller.

/

The crowd of first years finally reached the front of the hall, waiting in a mingled sense of excitement and anxiety. At this moment, Sirius Black epitomized the former. He was squeezing his way eagerly through the mass, pushing other kids aside on the premise that he was Sirius Black, and that they'd 'better bloody well move'. When he was satisfied with his proximity, he began to bob up and down on his heels in anticipation.

Of course, Sirius already knew what house he was to be in: the Noble House of Black was practically synonymous with Slytherin. No, this was more of a formality, a rite of passage. It was merely a chance for the rest of the school to see that he did belong in the Black family, despite being a little different.

Professor McGonagall stood before them, casting a firm glance about the hall. Beside her a tattered old hat rested upon a three-legged stool. She looked to it, and silence fell.

Sirius watched as a seam in the hat appeared to rip anew, and from it spilt a low song. At its conclusion, the students broke into applause, eager to receive each new member of their house. As they settled once more, the Professor waved her wand and unrolled a scroll of parchment from which she began to read.

"James Potter," she articulated, peering over her glasses.

At that, a scruffy mass of black hair bounded from the crowd. The James boy raced towards the stool, twisting excitedly to place himself upon it. The professor lowered the hat onto the messy black hair with a subtly smile, stepping back to allow for the sorting.

Sirius watched as James Potter was swiftly declared a 'Gryffindor' and the table of red and gold broke into applause. He followed the boy with his eyes as he almost ran to his new house, tearing through the mass of first years with as much confidence as he himself had only moments ago.

"Peter Pettigrew," called Professor McGonagall, once the hall had settled.

There was a beat of silence in which no one moved. Sirius began to look around for this 'Peter' kid, when finally a chubby little lad wobbled forward. He had his head bowed with such anxiety that he almost stumbled on his way up the steps. In reaching the stool, he turned slowly to sit upon it, and Sirius could clearly see the boy's hands shaking. He gave a disdainful laugh.

The plump boy trembled on the stool with his fingers knotted and his eyes shut tight, as though he were pleading or wishing. Sirius glanced around the hall impatiently as the hat finally announced him a 'Gryffindor'.

Over at the Slytherin table he spotted Bellatrix. His deranged cousin was staring back at him from under an unrestrained mop of curly black hair. She gave him a devious smile and raised her eyebrow, before turning away to mumble with the boy next to her. Sirius huffed and turned back to the front. Of all his deluded relatives, Bellatrix was the worst. He could tell simply by that conniving look she had given that she expected failure from him. But Sirius would prove her wrong, he would show all his deranged relatives that he had what it took to be the heir of his family.

The hat was placed on Severus Snape's greasy head next, a boy who moved with a curved back and an empty expression. Sirius eyed him with contempt, disliking his slimy expression right from the off. He was sorted into Slytherin to Sirius' annoyance: now he would to be forced to actually converse with the ugly grease ball.

Lily Evans and Alice Logan were both sorted into Gryffindor next, neither of which Sirius payed much attention to. He was too busy tapping his foot in impatience. It wasn't until the name 'Remus Lupin' was called that Sirius found himself remotely interested.

The boy who claimed the name stepped forward absently, tucking something beneath his robes as he walked. He made his way up the stairs lightly, but with tender steps, as if it caused him physical pain to do so. When he reached the stool and spun to sit upon it, Sirius noticed just how thin he was. No taller than Sirius himself, the boy's bones seemed to jut out from within his robes.

It was as the hat was lowered to his head that Sirius noticed the scars he possessed. Even with the limited exposed skin, Sirius could see a furious mark twisting about his right hand. It seemed deep and extremely agonizing, almost purple in appearance. Then Sirius shuddered to discover that it was not the only scar on the fragile boy. As Remus shifted lightly upon the stool, Sirius could see a faint wound disappear beneath his robes. It was faded and presumably older than the one that marked his hand, but it led Sirius to question how many more the boy possessed.

Despite this subtly gnarled appearance however, the Remus boy seemed quite content. Sirius would even go so far as to describe his expression as indifferent as he waited upon the stool. His amber eyes trained on the back of the hall. It was while the hat deliberated over his sorting that Sirius sighted the book that was hidden beneath the lad's robes. It was clutched in his scared little hand, and Sirius found himself chuckling at the sight of it.

He caught himself and brought his hand to his mouth, startled by his own reaction. Remus was sorted into Gryffindor, and Sirius watched as he rose easily from the chair and limped lightly over to the cheering Gryffindor table. He seated himself beside a red head girl, who's name Sirius had already forgotten, and to his amusement, pulled the book from beneath his robe and started reading. Sirius could not hold back a smile.

When finally his name was called, Sirius pushed his way through the remaining students to reach the front. He marched with absolute poise to the stool, making himself comfortable upon it as he turned to face the school. Professor McGonagall lowered the hat to his head, and the hall fell quiet.

Ah, another Black. This should be simple enough, the hat hummed. I see ambition, and a multitude of cunning. But wait, it paused. Sirius shifted with annoyance, wishing the mangy old thing would hurry up. There's daring and chivalry here as well, something I haven't seen in your relations for generations. Could it be...? Yes, I believe I have reached my conclusion, Sirius tapped his foot against the wooden stool impatiently, 'better be... Gryffindor!"

/

James watched from the Gryffindor table as a boy called Sirius Blake (or something like that), was sorted into his house. He launched from his chair and broke into an enthusiastic applause. Beside him, Peter and his fellow first years did the same, all smiling and ready to welcome their peer. However, it took James a good few seconds to realise that the remainder of Gryffindor house, and indeed the rest of the hall, was completely silent. Even the boy upon the stool was unmoving in shock.

James looked around, turning eventually to the second year boy beside him. "Hey," he whispered, "what's the deal? Why's no one clapping, and why's that Blake kid not coming over?"

The boy beside him - Frank he had introduced himself as – shook his head slowly.

"His name's Black," he corrected James, "and he belongs in Slytherin."

James looked back to the front. The kid on the stool was rooted where he was, and it was only when Professor McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder that he seemed to breathe.

"What'dya mean?" James hissed at Frank.

"See that girl with crazy black hair over there," Frank whispered back, pointing to the Slytherin table, "that's Bellatrix Black. And her," he indicated a stern looking blonde, "Narcissa Black."

James nodded slowly, looking back to the Sirius boy as he walked dazedly towards them. He understood what Frank was trying to say: Sirius belonged in Slytherin; his whole family seemed to be over there. James tried to imagine how he'd feel if he'd ended up in any house other than Gryffindor. He shivered and cleared his mind.

"Poor sod," he whispered to Frank.

"You mean poor us," Frank huffed, "we're the one's who're stuck with a Black."

James looked to the boy as he slowly seated himself at the end of the table. He didn't look too bad, James thought. In fact, he looked kind of remarkable. Under the obviously layers of shock and disappointment, James thought he could decipher a very promising air.

"I bet you're wrong," he whispered to Frank; but he received no reply, for the tables were beginning to fill, and the whole hall had turned its concentration to the feast.

/

Sirius felt as if he would never breathe properly again. All around him, students were eating happily, conversing with one another. He couldn't comprehend it. He sat with his eyes fixed upon his hands, his mind completely numb. He had betrayed generations of Slytherins, generations of Blacks. This would surely constitute as 'dishonouring the family name'. His parents would be furious. They'd probably never speak to him again.

His heart sunk as he recalled what Kreacher had said earlier that day: you'd best not return at all. There was no other way to look at this. He was doomed. His family had every reason to disown him, and they would have no hesitation in doing so.

"Hey there fellow Gryffindor," came a cheerful voice. Sirius did not look up. "Come on now, don't look so sad. We're not that bad."

"Leave me alone," Sirius whispered menacingly. He felt the pressure of a hand on his back. "I said, leave me alone!" he cried, whirling around with the intention of detaching the hand from its owner.

Before he could cause damage however, the boy standing behind him caught Sirius' fist in his with a wry smile.

"You'll have to be quicker than that," he chided, his messy black hair falling across his face. Sirius looked at him from behind thick, dark eyebrows.

"Let me go," he demanded, his silver eyes fierce.

"Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself."

Sirius watched him darkly, giving a single nod. His hand was released.

"Well then," the boy said happily, squeazing himself to sit next to Sirius. "My name's James Potter," he announced, thrusting his hand forward expectantly.

Sirius glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, debating whether or not to tear it off. When he did not reciprocate, the Potter boy jabbed him in the side.

"Hey!" Sirius growled, snapping around to face the boy. "Would you just leave it!" he barked, his teeth grinding together.

"This is really getting to you, hey Black," James said, dropping his hand. He ran it through his scruffy hair and adjusted his glasses. "Look, mate. I'm sorry you're-"

"I'm not your 'mate'," Sirius muttered. He picked up a slice of meat and chewed it menacingly.

James sighed dramatically. "This is going to be harder than I thought," he breathed. "Now see her," James began, his voice forceful. He grabbed Sirius by the shoulder and turned him around. "You have no friends in this house, right?"

Sirius stared at the hand upon his shoulder, his mouth twisted angrily. This James boy needed to leave him alone before he snapped.

"Right?" James persisted.

Sirius breathed heavily.

"Ok, I'll take that as a 'yes'," James continued. "So you have no friends in this house, and all I have is that," he pointing to the chubby little boy beside him. "We'd make the perfect trio. I'd come up with plans, you'd beat the shit out of anyone who got in our way, and then Peter..." he looked over to the eager boy, "Peter can fetch us candy. He's bursting with it. What'dya say?"

Sirius balled his hands into fists, "What makes you think I would want a friend in this insufferable house?" he uttered.

James shrugged, unaffected by Sirius' dark expression. "Everyone needs a friend."

/

Remus Lupin had sat reading his book for the entire dinner feast. For the most part, he had been left in peace, only disrupted when a fellow Gryffindor asked him to pass the gravy or potatoes, and when Lily Evans fervently asked him what book he was reading. Otherwise, Remus was quite content to sit and work his way through Hogwarts, A History.

He had been vaguely aware however, of the small commotion taking place at the end of the table. When momentarily had looked up, he'd sighted a boy with messy black hair and glasses pestering a very hostile looking lad. From what he'd gleaned, the latter was not impressed by the conversation. But it was of no real concern to Remus. In fact, the only thing that was capable of tearing him away from his book was the eventual arrival of desert.

As the empty plates and half eaten leftovers dissolved into the table, Remus closed his book and placed it by his side. Before him, colourful plates laden with sweets were rising from the wood. He gave a small smile and reached eagerly for a lump of chocolate in the shape of a bat.

"Oh, so now you eat," giggled Lily at his side. She grinned softly and pushed her red hair behind her ear. "I was beginning to think that you never did. Though, that would explain why you're so thin."

Remus pulled his lip to one side in a half hearted smile. The way she watched him and noticed things about him was unsettling.

"I do like sweets," he said in a smile voice, munching on the bat's chocolate wing.

"Almost as much as that boy," Lily laughed, pointing to a chubby lad over Remus' shoulder. He turned around to see a blond boy shovelling bright green jelly into his mouth, his cheeks puffed out as he chewed. "Although, I think he likes them a little too much."

Remus twisted back around to face her.

"This is Alice by the way," Lily said pulling a round faced girl forwards. She smiled at Remus and reached her hand out awkwardly to greet him.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, a smile on her face. She had short brown hair that relentlessly fell across her eyes. "I'm Alice Logan."

Remus watched her hand momentarily, looking between Lily and Alice. Then he tried for a grin and reached forward to receive her handshake. As he did however, his robes slipped away from his arm, exposing a rather deep and nasty looking scar.

Lily gasped at the sight of it, following Remus' movement as he quickly retracted his hand to hide the mark from Alice.

"Remus," she breathed, "what happened? That looks terrible!"

Remus shook his sleeve to hide the wound from sight, shaking his head slowly in attempted indifference.

"It's nothing," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I fell over a few days ago and scratched it-"

"You should see the nurse," Lily interrupted adamantly, "she'd be able to heal that up right away."

Remus looked down at the now hidden scar, knowing full well that there was nothing a Hogwarts nurse would be capable of doing to heal it. But he looked to Lily with a smile of thanks. "Yeah," he said, "I should do that. Thank you." He nodded and quickly busied himself with eating more chocolate before she could peruse the topic.

/

"Look, mate," James continued, his arm practically draped around the other boy's shoulders. "It's not that bad. Gryffindor's great: best house there is s'far as I'm concerned."

"I don't care what you think, Potter."

"Yeah, yeah. You've mentioned that. But s'pose you did," he leaned closer and gestured with his free hand. "Then I'd tell you that-"

"There is nothing you can say to make any difference!" Sirius finally snapped, jerking around to face James, his eyes wide. "Everything about this situation is screwed up! Everything about my life is a mess! The rest of my family is over there," he threw a finger at the Slytherin table angrily, "and I'm stuck here with you, who won't stop bothering me," he jabbed the finger into James' chest, "and him, who hasn't stopped staring at me since this whole mess began!" Peter slouched in his chair and indeed looked away for the first time. "Why do you care so much anyway, Potter?" Sirius spat.

James did not hesitate at all. Every student at Gryffindor table seemed to be watching the commotion now, the same question written on their faces. Under their gaze, James leaned forward and took a pumpkin pasty in his hand.

"Because, Black," he said calmly, "unlike your darling family over with the snakes, I actually agree with the sorting hat. You belong here." He placed the pasty resolutely in his mouth and chewed it with conviction. "Welcome to Gryffindor, my friend."