Sometime during a discussion of Quidditch, Sirius brought the subject of his parents up. "You realize I might get a howler over this?" he asked.
"Over what?" Peter asked automatically.
"Over not getting sorted into Slytherin," he answered nonchalantly. "Pass me the gravy."
Peter obliged, staring at him with disbelief. "What's a Howler and why aren't you worried about it?" he demanded to know.
"A howler is a letter that yells at you," Sirius answered with a shrug. "Really, its not much worse than a normal letter, when you think about it."
"Except everyone in a five-hundred foot radius knows about it," I murmured.
"Well, I s'pose there's that, but unlike you," Sirius added, grinning maniacally, "I really don't mind being at the center of attention, especially as I attract so much of it. Reckon you'll even attempt to explain something like the Houses, Pete?"
"I might," he mumbled.
I shook my head. "My parents will have lost their heads with worry if I don't send them a note that I got here without any trouble and I'm safe and sound within the week. Might as well tell them I was sorted into Gryffindor— Mum'll have a fun time trying to explain that to Dad."
James joined our conversation then. "I'll get a letter asking me if I don't tell my parents," he admitted. "As much that I didn't have any trouble as anything else. Really, since they didn't have any trouble I'd think they'd know I probably wouldn't."
Sirius shrugged. "I'm not even going to write them— Bella might tell them, and if she does I'll get a Howler. I'll get over it." he turned around a bit to wave with a ridiculous grin at a girl with his mother's expression a few years older than us. She sniffed and turned to he conversation with a blonde boy about her age.
James looked back where he was looking and caught the eye of Snape— the kid he'd been so satisfied about being sorted into Slytherin. "Any particular story?" I asked when he turned back.
"Well, yes," he admitted. "We had an . . . er . . . disagreement on the train."
"I think I know where this is going," Sirius murmured.
"The exact same thing you would have done?" I asked, not quite innocently. "It was a duel, not a disagreement, wasn't it?" I added to James.
"Course," he said with a grin. "'Cept he couldn't use that wand properly. Would've been pretty funny if I hadn't missed with the leg-locker curse and it bounced off a mirror."
"And hit you," Sirius suggested.
James scowled at him and nodded.
"Don't worry— I've done the same thing." I didn't doubt it. "Really, though, I did it with my dad's wand against family, so I think I got more hell than a detention. Did you two get detention?"
"First detentions of the year."
I let my attention wander as Sirius jokingly expressed his disappointment that it wasn't him. Athena and the redheaded girl— Lily Evans— were discussing classes. Lily seemed particularly interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Athena seemed a bit nervous about it. Somewhere down the table, a few prefects were discussing the summers potions homework— "Just ask Freyson, man, he'll help you if you're having that much trouble." I glanced up at the staff table boredly— McGonagall was deep into a conversation with Hagrid, the giant that had taken us across the lake. A little wizard— probably about Peter's size, was talking to Dumbledore, the white bearded headmaster— that particular man was unmistakable.
Eventually, Sirius tried to lure me back into the conversation— "Well, Rem, what d'you think?"
"About. . . ?"
"I've half a mind to get the Slytherin's for something or other before they start the war," he answered with a grin. "I'm trying to figure out what to do it with."
"Get Peter to play poker with them," I suggested with a yawn— I really was a bit tired for all of this, and I'd rather have energy for when classes started tomorrow than try to get through the day inattentive.
"Very funny— though it would get them out of a lot of cash," Sirius answered, launching into an explanation to James of our activities on the train, and after that imploring James for details of his duel. James said he'd tell it to Sirius so long as he shut up long enough to listen.
It turned out fairly simple— James has started to strike up a conversation with Snape, which had gone along fine for some time as like half the boys in the school, James was Quidditch obsessed. Lily Evans had wandered along about then and, as seemed to be the usual case with James, he'd invited her into the conversation. Lily hadn't known what Quidditch was, and Snape had muttered "Mudblood". James's immediate reaction was to defend Lily, and she didn't seem to take chivalry for exactly what it was— she'd called them both gits when James had finally thrown a curse at Snape and taken off.
It turned out she'd gotten a prefect, who had separated them and assigned detentions.
During the fight, on the other hand, James had managed to turn Snape's hair a wonderful shade of puce, lock his own legs together, and set Snape's robes on fire. Snape had managed to do nothing but shoot sparks. Sirius was doubled up trying to keep from laughing by the end of this tale, and James was grinning from ear to ear. Peter seemed to find it small comfort to be talking to someone who had dueled on the train and someone who would have liked to join in. I told James that his effort may have been valiant, but would also have been futile.
James shrugged at that. "Oh, maybe— but some things are worth it."
Fortunately, before I could think about arguing with him, Dumbledore stood up, and the headmaster of Hogwarts commanded immediate silence. "Welcome— some of you to your first year, and others welcome back. Now that you are all fed, I must ask you to listen to me— there are a few things you ought to be made aware of.
"First of all, the Forbidden Forest is, obviously, forbidden to all students. Second of all, our caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that there is to be no magic performed in the halls. He has added that the list of other forbidden things in the halls has been extended to include wet-start fireworks, due to some mix up last year when a couple of seventh years . . . accidentally let off a box of them in the halls. The entire list has thirty-two other items on it, and is attached to his office door." He paused to allow for the giggling of older students. Sirius tried to catch my eye and I refused to meet it. I was not joining him in trying to top that.
"Thank you for your attention— I will not keep you from your beds any longer."
"How d'you reckon anyone'll top those fireworks?" James asked with a yawn as a Gryffindor prefect called the first years over.
"I'll think of something," Sirius answered, standing up with an evil grin. I had some desire to hang over him like a hawk for the next week or until he forgot about topping that particular prank.
The prefect took charge of us and led us through the castle, up staircases, and informed us that some of them had a step that wasn't really there and some of them liked to move. "How in hell are we supposed to navigate this building, then?" Peter asked with a sigh.
"No idea," I admitted, watching a Renaissance-style lady drift from one portrait to talk to a witch in a more modern-looking picture. "The portraits don't stay the same, either, and all the suits of armor look alike."
"Who really acres about navigation?" Sirius asked with a grin. "Trying to figure out where we're going's going to be half the fun of it."
"I'm glad you think so," Peter said darkly. "I have a horrible sense of direction."
Eventually, the prefect led us down a corridor with a dead end, which was bordered by a picture of a fat lady wearing a Renaissance style, very pink, dress. "Welcome back, Michael," she greeted the prefect with a smile, "the password?"
"Fiddlesticks," Michael answered.
She nodded and the portrait swung open, revealing a hole we all climbed through. Michael turned around and nodded to us. "This is the common room, where you'll spend a lot of the time in the evenings. The boys dormitory is up those stairs—" he nodded to them "—and the girls is up the other. Your things have already been brought up there. Good night."
The four of us wandered up. Peter chose a bed and sat down on it, pulling off his shoes. I followed suit, but James and Sirius were apparently still full of boundless energy. They were discussing the prank Sirius had half a mind to play on the Slytherins and turned the light back on after I turned it off. Finally, Peter chucked his left shoe at them and told them to shut up and get some sleep.
I grinned as Sirius turned off the light. This promised to be a fun year.
Author's Note: YAY! Any day now I'll be up to thirty reviews! Oh, and just so you know: Athena will play a big role in this story as through all seven years, but I'm not sure quite how much she'll have to do with Year One. The Parrot has ceased to be: you SCARED me, too! Yes, I'll be careful. Padfoot— is this a good enough reason? Thanks everyone I didn't mention for your reviews, too! (Don't be scared, I've had sugar) Cheers! — Loki