I do not own Harry Potter.

I was still a child when my cousins started school. I was still at the age of play battles and fairy tales, and suddenly I found myself in an empty house with no one to play them with. One by one, my companions disappeared.

Bella was gone first, and there was a two-year term in which Sirius and Andromeda grew closer, and the games suddenly took a softer edge, the edge the rivalry created lacking. When Andromeda left, Sirius sometimes condescended to play with Narcissa and I, but, by this time, Mummy, always forward-thinking-- started bringing children from other families into the house to play with us. Sirius ignited the typical boyish competitions with Evan Rosier and Rabastan Lestrange-- the younger brother of one of Bellatrix's numerous (and all male) companions. They were worthy replacements to Bellatrix, and I had to satisfy myself playing with the other boys. There was little to be unsatisfied with; after all, I had found some my own age. I was no longer a tagalong.

Yet it was a mark of how Sirius and I were growing apart. My older brother could scarcely fail to notice that my finger leapt to him every time a crime was committed in the house. Of course, it was his own stupidity not to deny what he had not done. He accepted the condemnation like a martyr, and after a while, I even stopped thanking him. It was then that he began to resent me.

The stories at bedtime began to stop, and he seemed less and less interested in what I had to say. The games were done reluctantly, bregrugingly. Mummy still glorified him, and I was still second best. I had only lost in the game I thought I understood.

Luckily, Sirius himself saved me.

Bellatrix had been Sorted into Slytherin the record-breaking time of 3 seconds. She claimed the Sorting Hat had not spoken to her at all, paid her no single compliment or second thought, and shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" Andromeda became a Ravenclaw in a little more time, and, though Ravenclaw was not as well-respected as Slytherin, there had been many decent Blacks in the House. Andromeda's own father was one. It was simply the Slytherins that ran the household and made the more important decisions-- or at least were involved in the family politics.

Sirius was sent off on the Hogwarts Express with every expectation he would follow as every Black heir and be Sorted into Slytherin. Mummy told him to write as soon as he made it to the dormitories to give her the news.

Yet Sirius didn't write. Bellatrix did.

Dear Uncle, Aunt, and Regulus,

Sirius has been Sorted into Gryffindor. It took the Hat just over a minute. I thought you might like to know.

-Bellatrix Black, 4th Year Slytherin

Mummy wrote back in a fury, demanding to know more. Bellatrix replied that she hadn't talked to him since the feast, and as far as she could tell, he had gone on with his Gryffindor friends, pretending as if she and Andromeda didn't even exist. The entire house was in uproar for the next few days; I tiptoed around Mummy, ready for her to explode. Even Kreacher, who was so adored by Mummy that she sometimes kissed his snout-like nose, avoided her. Father was suprisingly cool, keeping himself shut up in his office. Mother wrote to Andromeda, the Slytherin Head of House, and even the Headmaster himself. Andromeda replied that Sirius had acted no differently around her, and he seemed happier than she had ever seen him with three companions-- all of whom she could verify were purebloods (an addition intended, no doubt, to screen Sirius from some blame). The Slytherin Head of House claimed that after some observation of Sirius it was obvious to him the boy was a true Gryffindor with only a few Slytherinian habits gathered from his upbringing, no doubt. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore wrote the most calm letter. "The Sorting is based on past, present, and future. Sirius's past life, present choice, and future intentions-- even his Fate-- are compiled in this one Sorting."

It didn't seem to assuage Mummy, though.

She held off until Christmas holiday. Father said he would refuse to let her come storming into the school to cause a scene. Sirius could go on believing his Gryffindor identity was supported at home-- if he was that naive.

Narcissa asked innocently one day at dinner why it was so awful Sirius was a Gryffindor. It was lucky it was she who asked; the looks Father, Mother, and Aunt Elladora gave her would have had me in tears.
"Some families favor Gryffindor," Aunt Elladora told her delicately. "We happen to favor Slytherin. It's . . . it's politics, dear."

Narcissa tilted her head, prompting her to go on. Narcissa would, after all, be starting in a year and be forced into the very politics of discussion. The thought twisted my stomach; I would be completely alone then.

"You have Black blood," Father said gruffly. "In Slytherin, you won't be exposed to anyone but those with blood of equal rank. Gryffindor lets in any old riffraff. Ravenclaw, too--" he glanced at Uncle Alphard, "-- but at least Ravenclaw's got the standard of intelligence. Slytherin has a certain moral code, Gryffindor has another. We happen to prefer the Slytherin."

"Not just morals," Mummy threw in. "Slytherins . . . Slytherins are more sympathetic to our way of life." She smiled, "Surely you like the way we live? Our fine house, the balls we can throw at Christmas and New Years and Halloween? Our delicious food? Our ability to do what spells we like?" She leaned in closer, "And, you realize, it's due to these Muggle-borns Bellatrix and Andromeda can't do magic over holiday. I could supervise them, but since Muggles can't help their magical children and they have to be equal, we're banned, too."

Narcissa met her with a slow blink, but then nodded.

Father piped up again. "All these new witches and wizards, the type with no proper blood . . . they're also corrupting our line. You like being a Black, surely?" He was met with another nod and went on. "We have a long history of warriors, deullists, and powerful warlocks. You've read about them in that book in the nursery. If we dilute our line with the newer, weaker blood, that power dies out. Slytherin demands that only the best of wizard society stay on, the type with good blood, and power and ambition."

I turned my thoughts inward. I had a sudden vision of a crowd of men in red ransacking 12 Grimmauld Place, saying that we had to share with the Muggle-borns and halfbloods. It made me very mad-- and even madder in that Sirius had agreed to join their ranks.

Uncle Alphard, most likely to keep his temper, went to retrieve Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Sirius from the train station at the start of Christmas holiday. Narcissa and I rushed in to greet them when we heard the door open. They filed in, one at a time, undoing a green-and-silver scarf, a blue-and-copper scarf, and a red-and-gold scarf in turn, followed by matching black coats. Bellatrix's cheeks were flushed a concentrated red with the cold, and her red lips twisted into a grin as she turned in the foyer, coat aside, to her cousin. Andromeda patted her hair distractedly, looking down at her shoes and poking at the lumps of snow that had fallen in the entryway. I sensed she sensed something. Sirius did not meet anyone's eyes as he hung up his coat, and I saw him deliberately slow down when he heard the telltale clicks of Mummy and Father's shoes on the hard wood the entryway. Aunt Elladora followed, lips tight so that they were white.

I had expected Father to raise the issue, and he made the move forward, but Mummy rushed forward. She seized Sirius's scarf off the hook and brandished it in his face.

"Gryffindor?" she shouted. Sirius's eyes, filled with an odd blankness, turned on her face. He stood perfectly still, his face expressionless, as she erupted in a way I had never seen her do before.

"WHERE did you get the genes for GRYFFINDOR? WHAT ever possessed you to join that House? Did you not resist? Did you not tell the Hat you wanted something more appropriate? Do you forget that you are a BLACK, and that Blacks are Sorted into SLYTHERIN?"

Sirius remained still. The rest of us remained in a circle around him, barely breathing but eyes all on him.

Mummy took another step towards her son. I squinted my eyes towards her face, and realized how pale she was. Her lips seemed to be twitching, and her eyes were overbright. She was in pain.

"Do you know what kind of shame this brings the family? I'm not going to be able to look the Lestranges or the Malfoys in the eye. GRYFFINDOR, I ask you. One step above HUFFLEPUFF. As if it's not bad enough we have some deviation," her arm swung out in a violent gesture towards Andromeda, who took a step backwards, her face as shocked as if she had been struck, "but you have to go into the very ANTI-House of our choice. I'm ashamed to--"

"There's nothing shameful about Gryffindor," Sirius said suddenly, his voice cold as ice.

Mummy blinked very rapidly. I had to physically tell myself to breathe.

Sirius took a deep breath, finally upsetting his rigid chest with a tremerous inhalation. "I'm happy there. I have some great friends. They're all--" he rolled his eyes, gaining the haughty confidence that Mummy had always prided in him, "they're all pureblood. Not that it matters," he added bitterly. Mummy's eyes seemed to pop. "I'm seeing things from a different side now. It's brilliant. It's something you never could have showed me, and I'm glad the House put me--"

"DIDN'T YOU TELL THE HOUSE YOU DIDN'T WANT GRYFFINDOR?" Mummy shouted. I thought I heard the stones rattle in the wall. Sirius blinked, stunned. Even his sangfroid was wearing thin.

"No," Sirus said with an odd brightness that very nearly bordered sarcasm. "Must have forgotten that part," he smirked.

Mummy took in a great heaving breath, but Father dashed forward, leading her gently aside with one arm. "Don't speak to your mother that way!" he snapped, though Sirius had been sarcastic all of his life and never been reacted to in such a manner. Sirius seemed to notice his footing was giving way more and more the more he tried to defend himself. "I don't know what they tolerate in that inferior house of yours, but I guarantee it will not be so leniant while you are at home. You will forget you were even Sorted into Gryffindor. As long as you are a Black, you will behave in the fashion you were raised in, not some newfangled Mudblood-loving--" Andromeda gasped "-- wishy-washy permissive style you've picked up in that--"

"Will you please stop insulting my House?" Sirius interrupted edgily.

Father backed off, eyes histrionically wide. "Oh, defensive, are we? House pride, eh? Well, we can take House rivalry on the home front."

"I thought you wanted me to forget I even went to Gryffindor," Sirius retorted coldly.

Father leaned down right next to Sirius's face. "It's kind of hard to forget when you are one."

Sirius finally took the hint and did not speak back, though I could see he had to physically squeeze his lips together. I felt another tug in my stomach. Not only was he a Gryffindor, he was a loyal one.

At dinner, however, though things were quiet as if a sudden dark cloud weight itself over our dining table, things came off with the semblance of appearing better. At least it was temporarily forgotten-- or ignored-- that Sirius was a Gryffindor.

Andromeda told how she had made the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as Seeker, and her mother and mine gave each other covert glances-- girls were traditionally not allowed on the Slytherin teams. Ravenclaw, no doubt assuming the female weight was of strategic use to the team, allowed girls to play positions like Seeker and occasionally Chaser. Beaters and Keepers. however, needed large mass and were not given to girls.

Still, Andromeda seemed so happy about it that I couldn't help feeling a bit glad for her. I wondered if Father would buy me a racing broom for my next birthday-- which was in August-- and she could teach me some strategy before returning to school. I would be already to try at out second year.

Sirius teased her that there was a boy in his dorm who had smuggled a broom in and went out and practiced at night, that was phenomenal with reflexes and would no doubt be replacing the Gryffindor Seeker the following year. Then, he grinned, Andromeda wouldn't like the sport so much, for she would always lose.

The parents didn't seem too keen on this subject, as it encouraged House rivalry. Gradually, the conversation-- nearly restricted to Sirius and Andromeda-- died out.

"Your half-term grades all came in yesterday," Mummy said coldly, stroking her soup with her spoon.

"Bellatrix, you managed to beat out even Lucius Malfoy in every subject," her mother glowed. "And I know his father's been taking liberties with the Ministry of Magic to give him every practice time outside of school."

"That's not necessarily a good thing," Father pointed out. "He'll think she's a haughty supercilious know-it-all and refuse to marry her."

Bellatrix pulled a grotesque face. "Marry Lucius Malfoy? I couldn't stand to live in the same house as that bossy prat who acts as if he's got a stick up his arse." I knew for a fact that Lucius was one of Bellatrix's closest companions-- but, then again, the two were more rivals than friends. Bellatrix didn't grow attached to people the way others did.

"Language, Bella," her mother scolded. "It won't seem so bad when the time comes, and we haven't decided on Malfoy yet. The Lestrange boys are your age, too, and you could always marry Avery a year down, or Evan Rosier from Sirius's year."

Bellatrix looked down at her food with distaste, but did not respond.

"Andromeda, you have top marks, as usual," Uncle Alphard grinned, sharing compassion with his fellow Ravenclaw daughter who took the same care in his studies as he did.

Mummy looked Sirius in the eye for the first time since the encounter in the foyer. "And you did astoundingly well in Transfiguration. You could do a bit better in History of Magic, but--"

"That class is so ruddy boring," Sirius groaned. "And I was doing fine until Remus missed the notes on Grindelwald, he was off visiting his mother or something--"

"And where were you?" Father asked, smirking.

Sirius bit his lip. "In the back . . . with James."

"And does this Remus usually take notes for you?" Bellatrix snickered. "Useless without him, are you?"

"Cheating is a very efficient path to success," Mummy threw in wisely. "If it keeps his grades up . . . "

"I know," Bellatrix sniffed, affronted, "I do it all the time."

Mummy went back to her food with a renwed grin on her face. Sirius was showing some signs of being a Gryffindor.

Though resentful of him, I couldn't suppress the fact that I was excited Sirius was back in the nursery that night. I spent the past three months alone at bedtime. Sirius, however, seemed less than excited. He ordered Kreacher to lie if Mummy asked if he had brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and washed his face, and climbed straight into bed, still dressed, earlier than I had ever known him to. It used to be a great game for him to try to stay up as long as possible. I had always kept my door open a crack when he did, watching in guilty pleasure as he stayed up overtly, while I too resisted sleep but in a way that could not get me punished.

I came into his room in my pajamas, shocked. "Are you that tired?" I asked.

He stared out at me, his eyes and forehead the only thing visible between the thick quilted green comforter and the luxurious white pillows.

"Aren't you glad to be home?" I added when he didn't speak.

"Not particularly. I like Hogwarts. I like Hogwarts a LOT." He sat up, shifting the quilt around. I wished that I was the one sitting amongst the blankets, not barefoot on the cold wooden floor. Sirius stroked the green silk overlayer. "I wish I could turn it red, but I can't use magic," he sighed.

"You like being a Gryffindor?"

"All my friends are Gryffindors. They're great guys. And--" he met my eyes, and I noticed there was a softness in them, "--you might want to consider it yourself. Regulus, you're not Sorted yet, there's still time for you to change your mind about where you might want to go. You could be in Ravenclaw, like 'Meda-- I mean, you like reading all those books and things. You could even be in Hufflepuff--"

"Hufflepuff!"

"No, seriously," Sirius insisted. "Hufflepuff's not that bad. They're all very nice, and they try hard to please everybody, and . . . and, well, you sort of do that."

My jaw dropped open. I felt myself involuntarily drawing away in offense.

Sirius sighed tenderly. "Regulus, look . . . " he struggled to find the right words. "You don't HAVE to be in Slytherin because Mum wants you to. You can choose your own House. I mean, it's you; it's your choice. I'm only saying that you might want to consider different options."

"So you did you choose your own House?" my voice cracked slightly with hysteria, "and you chose Gryffindor?"

"I let it put me in Gryffindor. The Hat had already decided; it just asked me if it was okay. And I don't regret it. Just . . ." he paused, then patted the white-sheeted mattress beside him, "Come up on the bed, I'll tell you a story."

As I climbed in and pulled the quilt up around me, rubbing my cold feet together to warm them, Sirius pulled the old volume of family stories off the oak bedside table. He opened to the story of Vega Black, Minister of Magic in the days Hogwarts was first founded, who overruled the proposition that Slytherin be made open to non-purebloods after Salazar left the school.

"Get off; your feet are cold as ice," he kicked mine aside under the covers and began. "When you're in a different House, you get different views," he explained, "and sometimes you realize the old ones were wrong. I was raised Slytherin, but now I'm seeing that Gryffindor has some good points, too. Vega says here," he pointed to the text, "that halfbloods and Muggle-borns were naturally not as powerful as purebloods, and there should be a safe haven for those that wanted to preserve their bloodbirthed power. Now, I know for a fact that's not true; the top girl in our year, Lily Evans, is Muggle-born."

I remembered what Father had said about purebloods being more powerful. Surely Father wasn't wrong!

"That's wrong," I said shortly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows and looked at me. "That's just what you've been told. You don't KNOW that yet, do you?"

"I do know it. I know it's true. It IS true."

Sirius almost laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe you're right. You're hopelessly Slytherin, you know that? Close-minded as a rock."

"I'll tell Mummy if you try to subvert me!" I cried. Father was always talking about how Dumbledore was "subverting" the school into a Muggle-born-loving haven.

Sirius glowered and I felt another kick within the bed. "Fine. Go tell Mummy. You always do. You're just a snivelling little tattletale. Don't think I haven't noticed how you always blame everything on me. You are just a underhanded little Slytherin."

I felt myself shaking. Sirius was so wrong about everything, except for the fact that I was, of course, a Slytherin. I puffed myself up as best I could and prepared to shriek for Mummy.

However, Sirius was fast. He shoved me down, pinning me to the bed, pressing in the soft mattress so that I was surrounded on all sides by white linen. He seized a huge down pillow and raised it.

"You know, another thing I've learned is that Slytherins aren't the favorites," he said. "Mummy's always told you that, hasn't she? Well, she's wrong. The other Houses see them as arrogant, close-minded, dirtbags. And some of those Slytherins aren't treated very nicely."

I squirmed under his grasp. "You can't hurt me, I'm your brother!"

"You don't do the same for me!"

The pillow came down, right over my face. I could barely breath through all the down. I screamed into the pillow, my noise swallowed by the whiteness of the fluff. I kicked and flailed blindly, finally hitting a good kick that toppled Sirius with an "oof!" right off the bed. However, as he fell, he seized my arm and I fell right off with him, sandwiching the pillow between us as I landed on top. However, he soon manuevered out from under me and flipped me unto my back on the cold, hard floor, the pillow in hand again.

"There's one particular greaseball-- you'll meet him if you go into Slytherin-- that thinks he's the most superior thing in the world, just because he's got pure blood, even though he never bathes and looks down on anyone who isn't in his House, and you wouldn't believe the things I do to him!" The pillow flew upwards once more, but this time I was ready. I screamed at the top of my lungs, the bloodcurdling cry echoing off the walls and knocking a bit of plaster from the old ceiling. The pillow pressed over my face again, stifling my cry, but I kept screaming, hoping desperately that Mummy would come in and see the fuss.

I had planned well. We were magically separated, flung apart to opposite sides of the room. My lower back hit the wooden bedboard, but my upper back and head were pressed to soft matress. Sirius, however, slid across the wooden floor and slammed back-first into the solid wall, knocking his head on the windowsill. He held it, teeth gritted, for a moment, but looked up at attention when Mummy spoke.

"Your father is in his office," she said, cold, calm, and slow, "and he expects to hear no disturbance, particularly after his sons should be in bed. I don't care if it is your first night back, Sirius; you have had your time to be noticed and now it's--" she wrinkled her nose as she appraised him, "Why aren't you in your pajamas?"

My finger flew reflexively to my brother. "He tried to smother me with a pillow! He tried to tell me I should be a Hufflepuff!"

Mummy looked back to Sirius, eyes narrowed. "Then I suppose a disturbance to your father cannot be avoided. Go down to see him; you're dressed anyway."

Sirius went out, fuming visibly. I stood up slowly, looking carefully to Mummy.

"You don't have to listen to Sirius. Don't take what he says seriously," she said kindly. "He's been subverted."