Anxiety was hot pain lancing through his stomach. The only saving grace was that he had little time to worry; after only a couple of minutes in line he heard:
"Black, Sirius!"
Sirius strode forwards, hoping that his nerves wouldn't be betrayed in the way he walked or held himself. He had good reason to be nervous: James Potter, the only friend he had made outside his family home, had been horrified when he heard that Sirius's relatives had all been Sorted into Slytherin. He would almost certainly lose the chance of making any halfway decent friends, or becoming a halfway decent person himself, should he be placed in that notorious house. He would be just like any other Black in the history of the ancient family: hate filled and steeped in the Dark Arts.
He hopped onto the rickety stool and, with trembling fingers, placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
What do we have here? A voice whispered inside his mind. Another Black? I've seen many of your kind in my time. There's only one place for you. Yes, it's right here, all in your head. Sirius's heart sank; surely this meant that he would be placed in Slytherin, just as he had feared. Yes, the Hat continued, only one place. Better make it GRYFFINDOR!