It wasn't often the Sorting Hat questioned it's own decisions. In fact, it couldn't even remember the last time it had, if it ever did. But the moment it echoed out what it knew, instinctively, was the wrong choice it felt regret quickly pile up. The student himself shuddering as he hastily made to take him off of his own head.

The hat's echo of Gryffindor washed over the surprised audience, the professors behind it likely just as bemused.

For whatever reason, when he'd first been placed over the boy's head, his consciousness literally shouting him at to put him anywhere but the house of snakes, had all disappeared the moment he'd spoken. The boy's very demeanour itself turned cold, unnatural-

"Well, father is going to be livid. Everyone knows all the real bigots are supposed to go to Hufflepuff." With his piece said, Sirius Black calmly made his way towards Gryffindor.

The head of Gryffindor kept her expression passive in retort, completely unamused with her new charge, instead electing to metaphorically burn a hole in him.

...

"Huh." James Potter, I had to admit, was a pretty laidback guy. "So you weren't kidding about being a Black."

Now you'd think, given how few Pureblood families were in number, that I would've met the guy before me at least once in the past- Well, Sirius' past. But evidently the Black's were rather keen on keeping their children's childhood under lock and key.

Literally.

The Harry Potter cupboard, as bad as it was, was relatively tame to what the Black's got up to. Childhood Isolation been one of the few 'punishments' they elected to go for when children didn't live up to standards.

There was a lot of baggage to unwrap there, and this was before he ran away from home. Before he found himself mixed up in betrayal and sentenced to Azkaban.

Sirius quite frankly had a mind-numbing childhood, and that was coming from someone whose travelled between multiple sanity-deprived world. Practically played jump rope with the mindset itself.

His rebellion into Gryffindor- And not to mention easy friendship with James Potter was entirely due to the way Orion and Walbgura Black decided to start raising him. To the point the two should've seen it coming.

Orion Black, it seems, Even if he were to 'openly' support one was the sort of man to play both sides.

This means that right now, my sorting into Gryffindor included, I could still turn this around. As a Hogwarts first year and ancient family heir, I had one thing no other wizard or witch had.

The time to prepare, to plan and what have you. Only, my promises had actual weight to them.

And while Slytherin would've been the better ground to start up on- My name alone been worth it's weight in gold there, Gryffindor was a close second.

My goal itself?

"So, what'd you mean about bigot's been in Hufflepuff?" James suddenly questioned, a twinkle in his own eyes. "Or was that a joke?"

To prevent any dark lord support camps. Phoenixes included.

There was only one person that deserved all of those dumb-as-rocks minions and that was yours truly.

I mean really, how else was I supposed to start a new ministry?

I couldn't just magic it up now could I- I should really look into that.

"Depends on your meaning of the word bigot."

James raised a single eyebrow at the answer, opening his mouth to likely question what my meaning of it was- Only to stop the moment I raised a single finger, pointing it towards one of the professors on the dais before us. My other hand idly grabbing a handful of pudding.

He gave me a deadpan look in response.

"You're pointing at Albus Dumbledore."

"Did my finger stutter?"

...

I waited until the feast was over before I made any further comments. James Potter having decided to get into a conversation with the other Gryffindors surrounding us when I made no attempt to reply to any more questions.

My eyes trailed over the Slytherin table, my first and likely easiest base of support. Given the only requirement, I needed there was a good, by their screwed up standards, family name.

Hufflepuff would, as funny as it were, be the toughest. I had a good feeling their only requirement for letting me gain a foothold would be genuine friendship and sanity.

And I am pretty sure one of those has been emptied out of me.

Which left Ravenclaw and Gryffindor as the middle options. But really, I was getting ahead of myself.

Idly giving the staff table one final glance, my mind connecting most of the wizards and witches there with faces, I should've had no place remembering. The last time I'd so much as read Harry Potter, was quite frankly in the centuries-ago department.

So really, it was a miracle I remembered as many as I did. The only face I couldn't recall being one of the blondes on the far side. The only blonde's coming to mind been Draco Malfoy's future father, and his narcissistic wife. Which given they also happened to be over at the Slytherin's table firmly put them out of the running.

When Dumbledore gave the okay to make way for our dorms, Minerva Mconoggal's orders already filtering through the Gryffindor table. I immediately grabbed hold of James Potter's shoulder and started pushing him in the other direction.

"Not to be a buzzkill, but we may be going in the wrong-" I clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Unless you're offering me your invisibility cloak, I recommend shushing for the time being."

His eyes unsurprisingly widened at the words. Though to my surprise, he did keep quiet.

Just as we were about to leave the foothold of the Gryffindor's table, my eyes found themselves attaching onto and lingering on a certain Hufflepuff on the table over. With a very bad (read cursed) odor.

Ignoring the fact the likely Marauder was somehow already derailing canon for me, I made to grab me an honest to god werewolf.

All I am saying is, if you're going to gift wrap me a powerful creature, I wasn't going to say no.

He, of course, whined and complained, but given he probably has never had a friend, he went along with me and Potter rather willingly.

Idly glancing towards the staff table again, I was surprised to see Dumbledore staring straight at me.

Naturally, I put up my fingers in a big ol' W to him. Rather amused to see his expression break the slightest. My thanks of gratitude probably didn't sit too well with him.

With another grin, I turned back to Remus Lupin and offered to be the friend of a lifetime to him.

Admittedly failing to mention the fact said lifetime wasn't guaranteed to be very long.

"I think Dumbledore's staring at you, again," James whispered inconspicuously.

I shrugged. "Pretty sure he's just eyeing your cloak."

"But I am not even wearing it!"

"Of course not, he wouldn't be able to look at you if you were now would he?"

After a moment of thought on the matter, Remus asked what cloak we were referring to.

"A family heirloom." "One of the Deathly Hallows," James and I answered respectively.

Dumbledore did a double-take on that one.

With the grand hall finally clearing, I and my unfortunate group of suicidal wizards finally made our way to the entrance itself. My last target finally coming into sight, the Slytherin having made a genuine attempt to avoid us the moment he realized I was more or less scouting for my future dark wizards-

"What!?" James and Remus questioned respectively, one admittedly more amused than the werewolf.

Did I say that out loud? Whoops.

Still, my hand promptly reached out and grabbed Severus Snape by the scruff of his cloak. A few of the Slytherins surrounding him reacting without a wasted beat, though to his (and my) surprise, they felt he was a welcome sacrifice if it meant leaving the rest of them alone. Given the knowing looks, they sent him.

Either that or I was really bad at reading people.

"What is the meaning-" Severus started to complain.

"James." I remarked easily. The Gryffindor in question idly shook his head in slight amusement before he clamped a hand over the Slytherin's mouth.

"Thank you."

And with that said, Snape's indignation ignored, I promptly started walking my new posse towards their new designations in life and home for the foreseeable future.

Every dark lord, after all, needs a base.

And whats a better base than the Room of Requirement Plot-devices?

Who knows, might even be able to ask the current dark lord living there for advice!

"WHAT!?"

I really need to stop doing that.

Hopefully, Dumbledore didn't hear that one. But knowing my luck, he was probably going to be waiting for us there anyway.

...

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