Disclaimer: Well, once upon a time there was this princess named Laura, and she owned...

Nothing.

This chapter is dedicated to my sister, who's pretty darn cool sometimes

A/N: Okay, I know, this took FOREVER to get out. I really apologize. I had some issues with family and school and injuries, and life just wasn't working my way. Actually, I should be doing my mound of relentless homework right now, seeing as it's a school night, but I felt so terribly bad about not updating that I decided to pull an all-nighter and bring you some lovely chapters to keep you from coming after me with pitchforks.

Chapter Two: Hogwarts

I really wonder why they do this to us. Make us wait in this chamber like this. I suppose the teachers get some sort of a thrill out of watching all the twitching, sweating first years wonder how they're going to die.

I know, of course, how it all works. Andromeda explained it all to me a long time ago. You just walk in and put a hat on. That's all.

A hat.

I hear the kids next to me whisper about dragon and I roll my eyes. Then I hear someone talking behind to me, saying my name. I don't turn my head, because that's a sure way of letting them know that you're listening, and then they'll stop talking, and you'll never get to hear what they were saying about you. I learned that from Uncle Bartholomew. So, I just fiddle with my cloak fastenings and listen closely.

"See that one there? He's a Black. Mum told me all about them Blacks. No good, them Blacks. Slytherins, the lot of 'em."

I suppose it's true, that we really aren't any good, as a whole. It's not like I've ever seen anyone in my family exactly contribute to society. But just because we weren't good didn't mean we were bad, really. Some people just think in such black-and-white terms.

Ha. Black. The color of darkness, night, and traditionally, evil. I can see where people might get that impression. It's not like my relatives are all the nicest of people. They were almost all Slytherins, and Slytherins just aren't nice. They're...

Well, I'm not really sure what Slytherins are, actually. Rather bright, very methodical, and never superfluous in any way. Do-what-you-must-do sort of people, from what I understand.

I'll probably be a Slytherin. It's not that bad, really. The way this kid talks about it, you'd think being in Slytherin made you the heir apparent to Satan's throne, or something highly dramatized like that.

I can't see where I'd fit in to any of the other houses. Surely not Ravenclaw, like my father, because I simply am not studious enough. School is just a place that gets you to where you're going later in life. It's not the end-all of life. It's sort of an in-between place. I don't think I'd be a Gryffindor, either. I'm not a particularly brave person. That's Bellatrix. She's the brave one. She talks back to her parents and never turns down any dare, ever. And even she ended up in Slytherin. So, surely there's no chance of my being placed in Gryffindor. And I hope to all heaven that I'm not a Hufflepuff. I think my parents would disown me. Really. Forever.

Not that that would be such a bad thing, on reflection, but it wouldn't be terribly pleasant either.

Severus, who is standing next to me, looks nervous. I'm positive he won't be a Gryffindor, either. He'll either be a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin. Definitely. I'd bet my life on it.

The doors open and that young witch that we saw before, what was her name? Mac something? Anyway, she tells us to follow her. She looks pretty uptight. I hope I don't have her for any subjects. She's a real stick in the mud, I can tell already. Just by the way she walks, one heel after another, click, click, click, never breaking her stiff rhythm, holding her shoulders up like she's holding up the sky with them. She's far too stiff for someone that young.

The idiot kid behind me, the one I mentioned earlier, gasps and stares up at the ceiling like a giraffe, about to trip and break his neck. Probably a muggleborn.

Well, even I have to admit, it is a pretty cool sight, but it's not like it's the first time I've ever seen something like that. My room at home has the same charm on it, to make it look like a daytime sky. But, mine's better, because when I'm in a bad mood, it gets all cloudy and stormy, and when I'm happy it's sunny.

So, guess what, Hogwarts, you're not that cool. I refuse to be impressed.

The hat, actually a rather pitiful looking old thing, rips open its brim and starts to sing.

Each year I sit in boredom

Upon a shelf so high,

And try to think of one more tune,

Watch one more year go by.

And every year I notice

More and more of all the traits

Possessed within a member

Of a team, a dorm, housemates.

In four groups you are divided

Depending on your mind

And I, the one with the dreadful task

Must put you with your kind.

In Slytherin are those

Who are cunning, smooth, well-bred,

Students who'll do anything

To simply get ahead.

Hufflepuff, she welcomes all

In her who wish to learn

Who all work hard, play fair, and love

Believe in rules and turns.

Fair Rowena Ravenclaw

Loved clever ones to teach

The intellectuals, the brains,

All the days, a week.

Gryffindor is home to he

Who bravely lives and dies

No cowardice accepted

In those under Godric's watchful eyes.

And so, each one, I must decide

Where you go,

Where you'll reside,

And each of you will try me on

And I'll decide where you belong

Tremendous clapping fills the all, and the stiff calls out the first name. Abercrombie, Evan. It's the kid behind me, you know which one. He's buried underneath that ridiculous pile of rags that calls itself a hat for a few seconds, before it yells out, "Ravenclaw" and he runs over to the long table the whole way on the right. Oh well, at least he won't be in my house, because I've already determined that I'm not going to be a Ravenclaw.

"Backerby, Britton"

A pale looking boy with floppy brown hair, who gets sorted into Slytherin. Hmm.

"Black, Sirius" Oops, that's me. I was counting on at least five people to go before me. So much for that idea. I eye the hat suspiciously, but in the end decide to just drop it on my head and get this over with as quickly as possible.

And then, it starts talking to me. In my head.

Well.

I certainly wasn't expecting that.

"A Mr. Black, I see. Your mother was a Slytherin, was she not? And your father a Ravenclaw?"

"No."

"Ah, you lie, Mr. Black. I know what houses they were in. I always know. Why did you lie to me, Mr. Black?"

"I just wanted to see if you really did know, or if you were just guessing. Then I'd know, if you accepted my answer, that you really aren't all that great and all-knowing, and that perhaps you're not that spectacular at sorting, in which case, I would suggest to the school a significantly less senile sorting instrument."

"What a perfectly Slytherin thing to say. You're obviously fairly bright, but you don't like school, so Ravenclaw would never have you. Actually, I'm leaning towards Gryffindor."

"And why might that be?"

I was perfectly curious. This old hat was turning out to be quite an interesting thing to converse with.

"Because it took a lot of nerve to talk back to the sorting hat like that, especially being the firstie that you are. Yes, definitely Gryffindor."

I suppose he must have shouted the last word out loud, because everyone is looking at me. Some people at the middle-right table are clapping, some look rather bewildered, and some look totally indifferent.

As I made my way there, I realized that this was going to be a challenge. All of my relatives were staring at me from the Slytherin table, like they were trying to process what just happened. I sighed and sat down at the very end of the table, to watch the rest of the people go through.

The next new Gryffindor was a rather pretty red-head girl, some sort of flower name, (she sat across from me, and smiled nicely, and I began to think that maybe this wouldn't be too bad) then a fuzzy, brown haired kid named Lupin, who sat next to me. He looked rather shy, and didn't say anything to me, just watched the constant parade of first years to the hat without comment. Another stick in the mud. Fabulous. Then came another large, giggly, pink looking girl named Ellie Naff, one more girl, (a tiny little blonde who looked sort of cross) named Arcadia, and I was about to give in to the sinking realization that the only other boy in my house would be stiff #2, when another boy came along. Thank goodness. This one, Peter, wasn't so bad. He looked less shy, at least. Finally, someone to talk to. Just as he had sat next to me and I said hello, another boy came to sit down.

Yes.

This wasn't turning out to be nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

This one was rather skinny-looking and had eyes that were a bit too close together, but the way he marched up to that table and plopped himself down, you'd think he owned the place.

Obviously not a muggle-born.

Severus got sorted into Slytherin, and I smirked at him, a face that said entirely, "I knew it!" and he sort of shrugged and walked in the other direction, towards the Slytherin table. Oh well. Maybe we'd still have some classes together.

And, finally, one more girl (how many are there?) joined the table, with a big smile and an uninteresting name, and the Gryffindor table was complete.

It was the start of an era.

XxXxXxX

A/N: I really would like some feedback on how I portrayed Sirius's character. I was going for a little predjudiced, but mostly indifferent, sort of nonchalant. Let me know. Best reviewer gets a cookie. Next chapter will be out as soon as my schedule allows.

-Laura