A/N: Wrote this chapter and the next chapter in the car on the way to and back from my grandparents' house. Woot.
I was feeling so comfortable, eating all the sweets James and Sirius had bought and shared with me. When we had gobbled nearly all of them down, we sat happily together, and it seemed incredible to me that I had only known these boys for about an hour, or less, and already I felt so close with them.
"So, Remus," Sirius said with a barking laugh, the remnants of his amusement at something James had just said, "you've been oddly quiet this whole train ride." Two pairs of eyes were on me.
"Well, I'm just in awe of everything that's happening," I said honestly. "I can hardly believe I'm actually going to school!"
James laughed. "Why?" He asked curiously. "Are you muggle-born?"
"No," I answered calmly, "I just never thought about it as a reality for me."
"Yeah, I guess I see your point," mused Sirius. "I mean, I never really thought much about the reality of school until just the other day. And now, it's actually happening!"
James nodded in agreement, as did I, but I held my tongue so as not to burst out with "yeah, well, I thought I would never be allowed to go to school ever, because I'm a werewolf!"
"So, what houses do you think you'll be in?" James asked lazily, picking up the very last chocolate frog and stuffing it into his mouth. "I know I've already asked you, Sirius, but you never really answered."
Sirius looked, again, nervous, and suddenly brooding and dark. "All my family has been in Slytherin," he admitted furiously, his voice so dangerously low, that it was almost a growl.
We stared at him in amazement. With all honestly, I never would have guessed it. Sirius was sweet, friendly, not conceited or evil at all. "Well there's no need to stare," he grouched at us, "I'm not like my family." A shiver passed over his face. "It's my ambition to escape them. My stupid brother is taking in all my parents' lies like they're true, and I seem to be the only sane one in my whole stinking family… the only one who's not being an idiot about blood."
"You mean," James gasped, "they hate muggle-borns?" He looked disgusted. "Don't tell me they believe in all that pureblood crap."
"Of course they do," Sirius said with a grimace. "I was raised to believe it too, but their attempts failed, because I'm not stupid enough to be discriminating."
"Wow," I said. "So you don't want to be in Slytherin like them, do you?"
He glared at me, but I knew it wasn't really at me… it was to his family, he had just turned to me to say in a forced calm, "never."
"Well I'm glad," James said cheerfully. "In that case, I don't think you will be. I think if you don't want to be in a certain house, then you won't be. Choices make us who we are, anyway!" He grinned sympathetically at Sirius, who perked up, and smiled back.
"Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, you're right." He shook his head, as though to rid all thoughts of his family."
"I really hope I'm not in Slytherin, too," I said in a worried undertone.
"Why," James asked suspiciously, "has your family been in Slytherin?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, I just… I just hope I'm not like Sirius and, y'know… different than them…" My heart sank. The feeling of my difference was overbearing, and I felt my stomach clench. "All my family has been in Ravenclaw," I told them.
"Well, mine is a long line of Gryffindors," James said with pride, running his hand over the back of his head, ruffling his jet black hair, which was already an absolute mess.
"Oh," came an excited squeaking voice from the compartment door. We looked around to see a very small, round boy looking at us. He had tiny, watery eyes, full of fear and confusion, but his expression was curious and excited. "Are you discussing houses? D'you mind if I join? I don't know anyone, yet…" he looked down at his squirming hands. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude…"
"No, no, no," James said dismissively, "Not at all! Come, come, sit down! It's always good to meet new people." He smiled at the boy, who looked relieved, and smiled back, before sitting down.
"So," Sirius said suspiciously to him, "what's your name, eh?" He was squinting at the boy, as thought scrutinizing him for any sign of evil.
The boy, who was sitting beside me, and considerably shorter than me, looked positively terrified of Sirius' piercing glare. "P—P—Peter Pettigrew," he said, shaking.
Sirius laughed his barking laugh, which I came to know was just his way of laughing. "I'm only being annoying, Peter, I apologize." He stuck out his hand in a friendly gesture, and Peter, scratching his forehead embarrassedly, took it to shake. "So, Peter, what house d'you think you'll be in?"
"Well, my whole family comes from Hufflepuff," he said. I stifled a giggle. I knew Hufflepuffs were supposed to be rather weak and pathetic.
James, however, didn't bother to conceal his laugh. "Really?" he asked with an amused chuckle. "Well, you don't really want to be in Hufflepuff, do you?" He raised an eyebrow. Peter shook his head in shame.
"I want to be a Gryffindor," he said.
"As do I!" James exclaimed happily. "Well then, Peter, I'm sure we'll get along quite well, if that's the kind of person you are." He shook Peter's hand just as Sirius had, and Peter looked utterly bewildered, as though he had never been accepted this much in his life. Sirius laughed loudly again, at the stunned expression of Peter's face. I myself couldn't help the small twitching smile that crept over my lips.
"So," James said suddenly, as though deciding something, clapping his hands together, and looking intently at the three of us. "Let me get this straight:" he looked directly at Peter, and said, "Peter Pettigrew," before turning to me and saying, "Remus Lupin," and then shifting in his seat to stare directly at Sirius. "Sirius…" he said. "What's your last name?"
Sirius pouted, and told him "Black," as though he deeply resented it.
"Sirius Black," James repeated. "And I am, of course, James Potter," he said with a laugh, introducing himself to Peter, who smiled. "Well I'm pretty sure we'll be a good group, even if we do end up in different houses."
I felt more elated than I had ever felt in my entire life. It sounds pathetic, it sounds trivial and stupid to anyone else, I am sure of it, but it was so important to me, and I had to hold my breath to stop myself from crying right then and there, out of happiness. Sirius seemed to notice my watery expression, and my face growing pink, and he laughed that barking laugh again. "Oh, look, James, Remus is getting all sentimental!" James laughed too, but I just stuck my tongue out at Sirius, who reached over and patted me on the shoulder. "You're alright, Remus, you're alright." His grin was warm, and I couldn't help the icy sheet that had always hung over my heart melt, as I knew, somehow, that I finally had three people that I could call real friends.
As a little group of girls passed the compartment, I leaned back in my seat, and felt suddenly content with the world, knowing that everything would be alright, and feeling, for the first time in my life, normal.
The rest of the ride was spent discussing Quidditch. Sirius and James seemed much more interested in the sport than Peter and I, who bonded quickly as we had our own side conversation about animals. Peter, it turned out, was quite an animal person. I told him I always loved animals, but animals had just, for some reason, never particularly liked me, but this wasn't entirely true. I adored animals very much, but dogs and cats and the like had always been terrified of me, being able to sense what I am. As I listened to him talk for a bit about a cat he'd had as a child, I studied his face, not having looked at him properly before. His nose was quite pointed, and had the look of a rodent about him, whereas James and Sirius both had faces of strong, proud people, both of them sporting sharp, handsome features.
When Peter finished his story, we didn't have much else to say, so contented ourselves to listen to James' and Sirius' conversation about Quidditch. I spent the time thinking about my new friends happily, and found myself smiling absent mindedly as I stared at them.
All at once, the train seemed to be slowing. We had all lost track of time, and not realized that in a few minutes, we would all be going to the school. As the train stopped, and a voice instructed us what to do, my stomach dropped. I was suddenly nervous like I had never been before. Terror flooded me as I contemplated how they sorted people into houses. James turned to me as we made our way onto the Hogsmeade station, and told me, "My parents told me that a hat decides what house you get into."
"A hat?" I said in disbelief.
"Yeah," he said excitedly. "It reads your mind, apparently."
This didn't help me. All of a sudden, I was even more nervous than I had been about three seconds ago. I didn't want anyone reading my mind. It would know, then, what I was, and probably refuse to sort me. Or, it would ignore any request of mine to not be in Slytherin, and just put me there anyway.
My nerves clearly showed on my face, for a moment later, Sirius was telling me to not be nervous, though he looked rather green. Peter was unnaturally pale, and sweating, his tiny hands shaking.
It seemed unreal, that in a few minutes, we were all standing in a huge clump around great oak doors that were so magnificent and grand, that they could have been doors to a king's palace. Indeed, the school itself was an enormous castle, its turrets and towers making the building look ominous, and hardly like a school.
A strict looking woman introduced herself as "Professor McGonagall," and told us all to follow her inside. I took a gulp, and after sharing a determined look with my three new friends, followed.
We were led into a small chamber to wait. Dread was chilling me like a cold wind, and my lungs felt too tight to say a word. I didn't dare open my mouth, for fear of being sick, of simply not being able to talk, and just choking on my tongue if I tried. Indeed, the whole room seemed to be thinking along almost the same lines as I, for it was mostly silent. A pretty red headed girl was whispering nervously to another girl, who was patting her on the shoulder as though to comfort her. I didn't know what to do. Too many thoughts were speeding through my mind. There were too many to hear properly, screaming all at the same time, so loudly that I couldn't understand a word of them. My heart was pounding like a beating drum, and I felt like I might very well vomit all over James' pretty black school robes.
And then, my mind seemed to be wiped blank when Professor McGonagall returned, and led us into the great hall, where four long tables stood in rows, people at every space, looking around curiously at the new first years. Many of them weren't paying much attention, talking to one another avidly in whispers about one thing or another. Some of them would point and laugh at first years they knew, who would nervously make a face at their older friend from the line, as we moved up to the platform on which the long, fancy teachers' table stood. Dumbledore's chair in the very center of it was higher and more magnificent than any of the others, and his long white beard sparkled dazzlingly in the light of the floating candles around the room. His gold spectacles glinted in the pale light as well, and his face, though calm and lazy looking, held the air of someone extremely important and knowledgeable. My respect for him was suddenly elevated, just looking at him. As Professor McGonagall stood before us with a long roll of parchment, the entire room fell silent. A stool, upon which sat a very old, raggedy looking hat, was placed beside her, and I stared at it in confusion.
Quite suddenly, a rip near the brim came to life, like a mouth, and began to sing.
When its song was over, the whole hall came alive again with applause, and I joined in anxiously, unsure of what I was supposed to be doing. And then, to my horror, much too suddenly, with no preparation, McGonagall was reading names. I could hardly focus on the students' names. All I took in about them was their terrified expression, and their relief as the name of one of the four houses was shouted to the entire hall.
After "Bagman, Ludo," came, at last, "Black, Sirius." He went rigid beside me, but as he began to walk forward, an expression of utter terror upon his face, James reached forward, and patted him on the back, to comfort him. Sirius didn't even look back as he walked to the stool as though he were actually making his way to the gallows, like a convicted murderer, ready to accept his sentence. He sat upon the seat as though it were his thrown, and as the hat was placed upon his head, he began to chew his tongue. He shook his head furiously at one point, his eyes screwed shut. I held my breath, sympathetic and nervous for him, and crossed my fingers beneath the sleeve of my black robes. "Not Slytherin," I prayed silently for him, "please, don't do that to him…" And then…
"Gryffindor!" The hat yelled. I screamed loudly with the rest of the Gryffindors, as well as James and Peter. Had Sirius been sorted into Slytherin, I would have been heart broken for him. That's the thing about me… I get much too involved in other people's feelings, and empathize. As Sirius scurried off to the table decked in scarlet and gold, I turned my head back to the stool to see a girl called Bones take a seat upon the stool after him.
The nervous red-headed girl went after a boy called Edgewood, who had been a Hufflepuff, and I saw, out of the corner of my eye, James run his fingers through his hair again as the girl took her seat, and McGonagall placed the hat on her head. She bit her lip, and after a few moments, the hat bellowed, "Gryffindor," and she scurried over to the Gryffindor table. James, beside me, was clapping quite loudly, his cheeks oddly pink. I grinned at him, and his face went even redder, averting his eyes from me to look back at the girl who was sitting a few seats away from Sirius now.
"Laurence, Jack," was being sorted into Ravenclaw, then "Lewis, Hannah," into Slytherin, "Lowry, Pat," was in Slytherin as well, and then…
"Lupin, Remus."
I hadn't been paying much attention to the names, so hearing my name was rather shocking. I seemed to suddenly have no feeling in my legs, and though I felt James' comforting hand pat my back encouragingly, I couldn't breathe as I pushed between two other frightened looking children, and made my way to the stool beside Professor McGonagall. Sitting down upon it, I could see the entire hall, every pair of eyes upon me, waiting. I could see Sirius grinning hopefully at me, James, still in the group of first years to be sorted, smiling with encouragement, and Peter biting his lip, his little watery eyes quivering as they stared at me. I noticed the tall, blonde boy from Platform 9 ¾ sitting at the Slytherin table, his arm around his blonde girlfriend, who, he noticed now, had a funny look on her face, like she was smelling something rather putrid. I couldn't fight back a twitch of a smile at her amusing expression, as something dark suddenly covered my eyes entirely. I realized then, that it was the brim of the hat, falling over my eyes.
"Hmm..." came a tiny voice. My heart leapt.
"I'm not evil," I thought immediately.
"Well," said the hat's squeaky voice, "That much is obvious to me."
I breathed a sigh of relief, as the hat went on. "A studious mind… a need to prove yourself a human being… mmm… such talent, yes… a good thinker, I see… you'd be an impressive Ravenclaw, now, wouldn't you?" I bit my lip.
"I suppose," I thought. I couldn't keep any thoughts from the hat, and it seemed to know I was thinking about Sirius being in Gryffindor.
"Ah, loyal, eh?" said the hat. "Loyal, and yes, brave, too… clearly brave, that's apparent… You'd make a good Gryffindor, as well, with your friend Sirius… and a boy called James, you're also worried about being in the same house with."
"Yes," I thought eagerly, "Yes, I like the sound of Gryffindor."
"Yes, with your distinct desire to do good in the world…. Why not? Yes, I think it should be… Gryffindor!" The last word was shouted, and it echoed throughout the hall, ringing in my ears. My heart was twisted in terrible knots, but I was relieved more than I have ever been. I could hardly stop grinning as I passed James and Peter to join Sirius at the long Gryffindor table. I squeezed next to him, and he gave me a friendly high five as a girl called Moran took the stool after me.
After quite a few more people had gone, "Pettigrew, Peter" was called up. He looked so white that he could have been one of the ghosts that were floating about the hall. He was squirming in his seat so much that it was shaking, and even I was surprised to hear the hat screaming "Gryffindor," to us all, and the tiny boy rushed over to us, sweating profusely, looking relieved.
"Congratulations non-Hufflepuff," Sirius told him with a laugh, patting him on the back. Peter smiled weakly, and the three of us looked back up as "Potter, James" was indeed the next person to take the stool, and the last of our group of four.
James looked nervous, but strangely confident, and sat, like Sirius, on the stool like he owned it. He rested his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands. Twice, he smiled and nodded, as though the hat were telling him something very funny, and in barely any time at all, in was calling, "Gryffindor!"
Tumultuous applause was roaring from the three of us. Our little group of four was all in Gryffindor. My happiness could not have been matched, as James joined us, and the four of us reunited with high fives, laughter, and grins of silently understood friendship.
When the sorting ceremony was over, and food had appeared and disappeared into our stomachs, we all stood to follow the Prefects up to our common room. And as our group wandered up seven flights of stairs, found our way to the common room and the boys' dormitory, and, feeling content, snuggled into our beds after an extremely draining day, I wondered vaguely if, some day soon, I would be able to tell my newfound friends what I really was.