"James Potter, Sirius Black, Severus Snape and Lily Evans: why, may I ask, are you all so wet?"
James looked up at the stern witch questioning him, desperately trying to think up a decent excuse. After almost drowning and then rescuing Snape, the first years had finished their boat ride and arrived at the castle before gathering on the stone steps in front of a huge oak door. Hagrid had then knocked on the door and the stern witch had opened it as, James assumed, was the normal procedure. She was obviously intent on welcoming the first years, but had been stopped in her tracks when she noticed the state that four of the students were in.
"Must I ask you again?" Her face was contorted with a mixture of concern and anger. "Why are you all so wet?" She had aimed this directly at James, but he simply smiled back, aggravating her further and causing her dark eyebrows to arch ever so slightly. She turned her gaze to Sirius who attempted to give an equally confident smirk, but faltered slightly under the Professor's intense and penetrating stare. Still, the boy refused to speak and, realising that she would be unable to extract any real information from them, the witch sharply turned on her heels and went over to where Hagrid was standing. James watched them with a nervous anticipation as Hagrid, presumably, explained to the stern witch what had happened on the lake. She nodded curtly and made her way back towards the first years, stopping again in front of the group before sharply clearing her throat.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony –" She continued like nothing had happened into what seemed to be a very well-rehearsed speech. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised James if she said the exact same thing every year. As she talked the Professor revealed basic information that James already knew, so he let his mind wander around the large room, which was really, now he thought about it, more of a hallway. He did this for quite some time, examining and making faces at various portraits, until he received an unpleasant shock when he found the Professor's eyes looking directly at him.
"Mr Potter and Mr Black.'
'Yes?' Sirius said automatically.
'Congratulations on becoming the youngest students ever to receive a deduction of ten House Points each. I do not think that we have ever, in the history of Hogwarts, had a student lose house points before actually belonging to a House. I just hope to Merlin that neither of you end up in Gryffindor." She then once again turned on her heels and waved her wand, drying the four wet students, before flicking it again, opening the doors into the Great Hall.
The first year students felt hundreds of eyes fall on them as they passed through the door and entered expansive room. Some gave friendly smiles and waves to relatives, but the vast majority kept nervously ambling forwards until forming into a huddle near the top of the hall. This gave James the opportunity to take in his surroundings properly for the first time. The hall had been modestly decorated with hovering candles that warmly lit up the castle, giving James a pleasant sense of ease. The only other source of light came from the ceiling, which had been bewitched to look like the moonlit sky. The stars shone, twinkling above students and teachers heads alike. Gently floating in the misty air were small wisps of cloud which bore an odd resemblance to the translucent Ghosts seated at various house tables. James looked towards his friend to comment upon this, but was shocked to see that Sirius's confident exterior had vanished, making way for a much more self-conscious boy who stared at the floor and adjusted his robes every two seconds. James also had the distinct impression that Sirius was trying to block out the constant stares and glances coming from the Slytherin table, as he had turned his back towards them ever so slightly.
"Sirius, mate, what's up?"
Sirius raised his head faintly, not quite daring to look into James's eyes. "I am, quite literally, shitting myself."
"I hope not, I've heard that those kind of stains are quite hard to remove," James joked, but, when Sirius's mouth only twitched slightly, he added "Sirius look, it's not like-" but he was cut off as the hat sitting on the rickety stall in front of them began to sing. The first years all looked on, bewildered, as it explained in song the process of sorting them.
"So we just need to try on a singing hat, it's not exactly fighting dragons is it!" James whispered to Sirius, who gave him a weak smile as the rest of the hall clapped the end of the Sorting Hat's song. Professor McGonagall then promptly stood up next to the huddled first years and took out a scroll.
"Adams, Alexandra," She called out as a smiling first year stumbled up towards the stool. After jamming the hat over her loose blonde curls a silence took over. James could see the girl's lips just moving, as if she was having some sort of whispered conversation with the hat who, in turn, seemed to be frowning. A minute or two went by and just as James was starting to get bored the hat opened its brim and called out: "Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindor table cheered as she ran down to take her seat next to an equally blond prefect who, due to their striking resemblance, James could only assume was her sister. McGonagall then proceeded to call out the names of "Aubrey, Betram" who became the first Ravenclaw and "Avery, Harrison", the first Slytherin. She then waited as the Slytherin table quietened down to call out,
"Black, Sirius."
A burst of premature cheering erupted from the Slytherins table as James's jaw dropped. Sirius was a Black? He knew all his family were Slytherins, but not that they were Blacks. What with their pure blood mania, their self-obsessed superiority and their dealing in the dark arts, to be Black was to be in a whole different league. It was families like the Blacks, the Lestranges and the Malfoys whom the Potter men and women prided themselves on being against. Each generation had famously made enemies out of each other whilst attending Hogwarts, it was almost a tradition. His Father and his Father before him had done it, and he assumed that he, and any future generations, would too. But there was Sirius Black, his friend, sitting on the stool, feigning confidence, but looking desperately to James for some sign of reassurance and acceptance. James immediately grinned up at him, putting his thumbs up and visibly crossing his fingers.
…
Sirius saw James's signal before Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his shiny mop of black hair, obscuring his view and filling his head with a voice.
Ahh, a child of 'The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black', well I know what to do with you…
'No,' Sirius thought automatically
No? Ahh, I see. No, that would be too hasty, wouldn't it. Your head is filled with many things, most of which are unsuited to Slytherin. But then again you are shrewd, determined and I certainly sense a disregard to the rules… Slytherin could make you great you know...
'No,' Sirius thought with such determination that he almost wondered if he was simply proving the sorting hats point.
No then. Let's see… You are loyal, a Hufflepuff perhaps? But, alas hardworking and patient you are not.
Sirius smirked at this.
You are clever though, yes, you certainly possess wit, creativity and an individuality any Ravenclaw would be proud of. But then again you are brave and daring and courageous, really you should be placed in-
…
"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat's voice echoed around the room as the cheers from the Slytherin table abruptly stopped, filling the hall with a desolate silence. Sirius sat there, the hat still perched on top of his head, unsure of what to do as he gazed down at the suspicious Gryffindors glaring back. There was a moment of complete silence as Sirius stayed rooted to his seat, unable to move. James watched his friend from the throng of first years, desperately thinking of some way to help. He wondered if he, James, should start the cheer, but a self-conscious pang of inhibition however caused him to pause. Coincidentally, a slightly large boy to his left chose this precise moment to fall over. James wasn't quite sure how he did it, as he had been standing still at the time, but sure enough the tubby boy fell onto the floor, taking a small girl with him and landing awkwardly on top of her. The whole school descended into laughter as the girl and boy rolled around on the floor trying to get up. By the time they had pulled themselves to their feet, both red faced and extremely embarrassed, Sirius had left the stool and made his way down to take a seat at the Gryffindor table.
"Brucknell, John." And the sorting continued. James once again allowed his eyes to wonder around the hall, until he was snapped out of his dreamy state by a familiar name.
"Evans, Lily." As the small ginger girl from the train made her way up to the sorting hat James felt a small sense of nervousness. What was even more shocking was that only a few moments after that, when the sorting hat had touched her dark red hair and called out "Gryffindor!", James felt a sense of relief, even a tingle of happiness. These were indescribable feelings as James felt nothing good for the girl and the prospect of being in the same house wasn't exactly a pleasing one. Yet, in the very back of his mind, or in the very depths of his heart, the feeling was good. The same could not be said for Severus Snape, who had let out a tiny groan behind James and, despite repeatedly blinking, hadn't managed to stop a tear rolling down his cheek.
James once again lost interest in the sorting and grew impatient as a long stream of people he barely knew, or didn't want to admit to knowing, were sorted into various houses. Remus, one of the boys from the train, had been sorted into Gryffindor, but even this didn't really catch James's attention or quell his impatience, he'd already assumed that outcome. Sighing, he took again to looking around the Great Hall, taking in the faces and decoration around him.
Finally, McGonagall called 'Potter, James.'
Smiling, he sauntered up to the stool. The Sorting Hat had barely even touched his dark, unruly hair before it shouted, "Gryffindor!"
