The other boy's name was Peter Pettigrew, and he turned out to be a fair hand at poker. Sirius had pulled out another pack of Exploding Snap after the witch with the snack cart had come by. He'd gotten a box of chocolate frogs and a mound of the beans, then suggested we play poker with the beans. It wasn't log before Peter had won most of them. The cards actually lasted about an hour and a half before they exploded.

"And I think I was winning for once, too," I murmured. Peter had yelped and left the compartment for a "walk", which we'd forgiven him for as he'd confessed to being Muggle-born.

Sirius started to unwrap a chocolate frog, which promptly started to attempt escaping his grip. "With Peter, I wouldn't be so sure," he answered. "He's most likely faking us out on most of them. Kids got one heck of a poker face." He beheaded to frog to stop its struggling and looked at the card. "Merlin again."

I shook my head— at least he wasn't attempting to draw dogs in the ash again— after Peter had joined me in thoroughly teasing him about his lack of artistic skill, he'd given up and joined me in a conversation about quidditch. Once we realized we'd left Peter behind, we began explaining the sport to him, before being interrupted by the witch with the cart.

Peter returned, and he was with a pretty girl with tousled dark hair and bright blue eyes like the sky out the window. "Hullo," she greeted us. "Have you guys seen my cat? She wandered off about an hour again and I'm starting to get a little worried."

"What's she look like?" I asked.

"She's black and white spotted," the girl answered.

"Then she wandered into the compartment across from ours and she hasn't come back out as far as I can see," I told her.

"Thanks. I'm Athena Terrance, by the way. Who're you?"

"Remus Lupin. That's Sirius Black," I answered. "I'm assuming you've introduced yourself to Peter?"

Athena nodded, thanked me again., and went to retrieve her cat. "Well," Sirius observed, "that was an interesting encounter. Where'd you meet her, Pete?"

"Around," Peter answered with a shrug. "She was looking for that cat."

We returned to trying to explain Quidditch to Peter, who was not comforted by Sirius's accounts of bludgers going into stands and harming spectators, as much as he assured the boy that it was an unusual occurrence. Eventually, a prefect stuck his head in and told us we'd better think about getting ready. "That late already?" I asked, checking my watch.

"Quidditch passes the time," Sirius announced with a grin.

We did pull our robes on then, which was only about five minutes before the train pulled to a stop. Sirius hopped out quite cheerfully, followed slightly more reluctantly by Peter. I froze for a few moments, suddenly more than nervous. I shouldn't be here. Next week was a full moon. Sirius came back after about a minute and tugged my sleeve. "C'mon, Rem— they said get off."

I nodded and let him lead me off the train, still aware I'd gone paler than I usually was. Peter looked at me and muttered about how he'd thought he was nervous.

"Firs' years!" I bellowing voice called. "Firs' years over here!"

We headed over there, where a huge man in an overcoat that was oversize even for him was bellowing. He introduced himself as Hagrid, and led us to a group of boats. He told us to get in four to a boat, and all of us scrambled in. Sirius, Peter, and I wound up in the same boat as Athena. The boats started across the lake, and when we rounded a corner we got our first glimpse of the castle.

"Wow," was all Sirius could say for the first time I'd known him.

"It's beautiful," Athena whispered. "Like I've wandered into a fairytale."

I had to agree with both of them— the castle was an awesome sight. The boats docked and we all climbed out, and Hagrid led us to the front door and knocked. The door opened on a severe looking woman that reminded me a little of Mrs. Black, though she didn't seem so frazzled at the concept of looking after perhaps fifty eleven-year-olds as Sirius's mother had been looking after one. "I am professor McGonagall," she announced, "the Head of Gryffindor House and the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts." She led us inside before she continued her speech.

"In a few moments I will lead you into the Great Hall to be sorted into the Houses. There are four of them— Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. All of the Houses have admirable qualities—"

Sirius snorted here. "Slytherin, admirable?" he muttered.

"—and have produced great wizards in their time. Here, the house will be like your family. Doing well will earn your House points. Trouble-making will loose house points. Now, if you will follow me?"

We all did, filing in silently Peter was muttering about what the Sorting Ceremony might be like and whether or not it would be bad. Sirius was still muttering irritably about Slytherin. I was quiet and still pale, probably more nervous than both of them.

They got out a hat that was placed on a stool. The hat was heavily patched from years of Sorting Ceremonies, and looked as if it might fall apart. I glanced around at the older students seated at their tables. There were so many of them. Whatever we had to do, why did it have to be in the spotlight. I'd always hated the spotlight; just being watched by Mr. Ollivander, Mum, and Sirius getting a wand had made me nervous.

The hat opened a rip near the brim and began to sing.

"It's been a thousand years or so

Since this school was new

And its four founders were within it—

But to me it seems only a few.

Once upon a long, long time

I sat on Gryffindors bold head

And so I know the Sorting's birth—

And it, since their deaths, I've led.

Brave Gryffindor was a dragon-slayer

He favored the strong and the bold;

He picked the students whose loyalty was true,

Those daring, with the nerve to break the mold.

Slytherin, the sly old fox, favored ambition:

He chose those with cunning (and nerve as well),

Those who could plot, didn't mind bent rules,

With brains abound, as I can surely tell.

As for the female founders, among them Ravenclaw,

The scholarly lady chose those who desired books,

The will and aptitude to learn, the love of knowledge,

And the ability to teach were valued in those she took.

Hufflepuff, often last but never lest

Valued, above aught else, patience and tolerance,

She sided with those who would work hard to gain

For in such things, success comes not just by chance.

As you can see, I am the hat that they used,

And have judged so long as you can see,

I'll take a look inside your head,

And I can tell you where you ought to be."

I didn't feel up to this, even with Sirius's whisper of, "So we just try on a hat?"

"My prediction," Peter announced. "You, Sirius, wind up in Gryffindor— you definitely want to break a mold." He paused. "Literally, maybe. Remus ends up in Ravenclaw. Me . . . I dunno."

"Not necessarily," Sirius muttered. "And hush."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a list and started reading names off of it. The list of "A"s was fairly short, and it wasn't far into the "B"s that she sent Sirius up there. Despite his usual cheerful chatter, he seemednervous going up to get the hat. It sat on his head longer than most of the others, before yelling, I expect to his relief "GRYFFINDOR!" He put the hat down and, with much more confidence, went to join the cheering house. After a few "C"s and a lengthy list of "D"s, she called a redheaded girl by the name of "Lily Evans," who became the next Gryffindor. Another girl ended up in that house sometime during the list of "H"s, and the next thing I knew I heard my own name.

I hesitated again, and it took Peter pushing me out to get me moving. I glanced back at the other boy, who waved me on before getting back there. I suspected that any color left in my face deserted me— I certainly felt faint.

The hat settled itself on my head. "Hmm. . . . Let's see. You've got secrets in there, haven't you?" I nodded, thinking that this was the one and only time I was ever going to let something into my thoughts, and only now because I had to. "You'd rather bury yourself in a book then fight, but your intensely loyal to your friends. . . . a need to prove yourself, yes, but to yourself rather than anyone else. . . . Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, let me think. . . ."

Just get me out of this damn spotlight! I thought. Preferably back with my friends. . . .

"Friends, is it?" the hat muttered. "Then, it'd better be GRYFFINDOR!" It yelled the words to my intense relief, and I practically scrambled from the stool to sit beside Sirius.

"You looked like you were ready to die up there," he commented. "There's no color left in your face. You gonna be sick?"

"Not anymore," I muttered, suddenly taking a great interest in the sorting of Lydia Lyman, who became a Ravenclaw.

Before long, Peter rolled around. The hat sat on his head for some time, too, before calling out Gryffindor for him, too. "It almost put me in Slytherin!" he yelped.

"Well, that's odd," Sirius observed. "But you do have one hell of a poker face, you know that?" Anything else he might have been intending to say was drowned in applause from our table as James Potter became another Gryffindor.

James sat down near us, and the rest of the sorting continued. This boy seemed to take enormous satisfaction when a Severus Snape became a Slytherin, and Athena joined us at the Gryffindor table soon afterwards. When the sorting ended, Dumbledore stood, welcomed us to the school, and recited an incantation to make the feast appear. Sirius made the observation that food might bring a little of the color back into my face and we dug in.

Author's Note: This chapter only looks longer, I swear, because of the song. Speaking of the song, what do you think? I'm hesitant to put any rhyming poetry up, because it's . . . not my strong suit. Oh, and by the way— I'm glad people are noticing and liking the fact that Remus just kind of deals with his werewolfism and gets on with life in this story. He's been one for years— it kind of annoys me when he doesn't. On the other hand, this is the sort of situation where it would crop up, but its one of those few chapters. As always, reviews are good! Cheers! — Loki