A/N:

I AM SO SORRY.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I am ridiculous, I know. It's been months since I last updated, and for that I apologize . Things were pretty hectic with school, and band, and various band camps, and auditions for said camps (and choir, which I'm proud to say I made!) . So, so sorry. I hope this chapter's length somewhat makes up for it, though; it's nearly 5,000 words and 13 MS Word pages long, which breaks my personal chapter-length record.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All recognizable characters, places, and things belong to the lovely Ms. J K Rowling.

GIANT thanks to WhiteFerrets for beta-ing, and for her advice on exactly what is different between American and British English. :)

I'd also like to thank all of you amazing reviewers. You've all been so kind and just plain awesome. Thanks!

o.0.o

Butterflies and Hurricanes Chapter Three: Let the Games Begin

Peter Pettigrew:

Peter felt decidedly out of place. This was without a doubt the strangest train ride he'd ever been on. He was squashed in a compartment with half a dozen other students, and seemed to be the youngest by several years. The other students were talking and laughing, though what interested Peter wasn't necessarily the conversation. Instead he found his attention drawn to the sweets they were eating—frogs made of chocolate that hoped much like their real-life counterparts; bubblegum that when blown produced gigantic blue bubbles that floated around the compartment like balloons; sugar coated mice that, when eaten, caused your teeth to squeak like the real things. They were fascinating; Muggle sweets couldn't even begin to compare.

"Hey, you."

Peter glanced up. One of the other students, a dirty-blond haired boy sporting a black and gold striped tie, was waving a licorice wand in his direction.

"Yeah, you. Are you a first-year, then?"

"Er, yeah, I am."

"Know what house you want to be in?"

"I, uh, I don't know m-much about the h-houses," Peter stammered, mentally cursing his inability to talk under pressure.

The boy nodded as if he'd been expecting it, biting off the end of his wand with a rather sage expression on his face.

"Muggle born, then. So Slytherin's out."

"No, Todd," a brown-haired girl in a tie that matched the boy's spoke up, "Remember that Roger kid? He got into Slytherin and he was a Muggle born. What was his name again? Chill-something."

"Chillingworth," mumbled Todd around the rest of the licorice, "But he was a right evil git, it was the only house he could've gone to. This kid here doesn't look like a bad sort. Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

"P-Peter Pettigrew," he said. Every eye in the compartment was suddenly fixed on him; it felt like he was in the glare of a thousand spotlights.

"Right then, Pettigrew, what've you heard about the houses?"

"Uh… there was a woman who c-came to talk to me and my mum, she said something about there being… four? Yeah, four of them. They had weird names." As he talked, Peter's confidence seemed to grow, and his stutter disappeared.

Todd snorted. "Those 'weird names' are the names of the founders of the school. You're right, though, there're four. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff," he said, ticking them off on his fingers as he went. "Each house has its own colors and mascot—Gryffindors, the Lions, are scarlet and gold; Slytherins, the Snakes, are silver and green; Ravenclaw, the Eagles, are blue and bronze, and Hufflepuffs, the Badgers, are gold and black." He gestured to his tie.

"There're also traits that define the different houses," the girl from before chimed in, "For example, Hufflepuffs are known for being fair, hardworking, and generally kind to everyone. People say we're just a house for the extra people, but don't believe everything you hear. Hufflepuff's just as important as any other house."

"And Ravenclaw," said a pale girl with wispy blonde hair and large blue eyes, whose tie was the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, "is known for being a house for people who enjoy learning, and generally value education as one of the most important steps in life. We're not just a bunch of smart stuck-ups, you know."

"Okay…."

Peter was feeling a little overwhelmed but still listened in rapt attention as a stocky, dark haired boy (though he was much closer to a man than a boy), who had a small badge inscribed with "HB" pinned to the front of his robes, began to explain Gryffindor. It seemed to be a house for loyal, brave people with no real sense of self-preservation, though that last bit could have been sarcasm, as the boy was wearing a scarlet and gold tie.

"What about Slytherin?" Peter asked, staring around at the strangely sour looks on several of the others' faces.

"Well, Slytherin is… Slytherin has several redeemable qualities," said the Gryffindor boy again, who raised his voice slightly over the snorts from many of the others. "No, it's true! They're known for being cunning, and resourceful, which are very important."

"Unfortunately, they're also a bunch of evil little snakes," muttered Todd, who rolled his eyes when the Gryffindor boy shot him a glare. "What? You know it's true. See, Pettigrew, the thing about Slytherin house is that most of them are pure-blooded bigots. They think that the only people that should be allowed to go to Hogwarts are the ones who can trace their family's magic back at least five generations."

"You shouldn't be filling his head with prejudice, Todd. He doesn't know any better," the brown haired girl admonished. Todd simply rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, Pettigrew, now that you know about them, what house do you think you'll get into?"

"Uhhh… well, I think Slytherin and Ravenclaw are out, and I don't know about Gryffindor, but I don't really mind hard work. Maybe Hufflepuff?"

"Well, if you do make it into Hufflepuff, you'll already know us," said the brown haired girl. "Speaking of which, I don't think we introduced ourselves!"

"Er, no, I don't think so."

"Oh, sorry about that. Well, I'm Amy Peyton, and these are Todd Bridges and Celine Simmons." She indicated the blonde, blue eyed Ravenclaw, who waved cheerily.

"This is Anthony Jones," she said, waving a hand towards the stocky, dark-haired Gryffindor. "He usually goes by Tony, though. See the badge on his robes? That means he's our Head Boy, which is sort of like the top prefect." Amy grinned as Tony ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Oh, and these two strong-and-silent types are Dave Watson and Bob Henry," – two golden-tied boys, who had been quiet through the entire conversation, waved from over by the compartment door. "Dave, Bob, Todd, and I are sixth year Hufflepuffs, Celine is a sixth year Ravenclaw, and Tony is a seventh year Gryffindor. Generally our three houses get along well, or at least we do."

Peter's head was swimming. He doubted very highly that he'd remember this barrage of names. This seemed to show on his face, because Amy smiled and said, "Don't worry about remembering all of our names. You've got the whole year to learn them, and you will, trust me."

"Hey, Pettigrew," Todd spoke up, changing the subject abruptly, "D'you want to learn how to play Exploding Snap?" He pulled a deck of violently colored playing cards out of his pocket.

"Sure."

The teaching and the games that resulted lasted most of the train ride. Peter was quite sure that this was the sort of game that his mother would have had a fit over—it was exciting and rather brutal, resulting in several singed fingers and eyebrows. It felt liberating to be sure that she wouldn't come bursting in and try to drag him away from the others, spouting nonsense about how her "little baby shouldn't be playing such awful games" (which she'd actually said before when he'd been playing with his neighbor's slingshot).

Eventually they had to stop playing and change into their uniforms—the girls went to find the bathrooms to change, leaving the boys in the compartment. Soon they were filing onto the platform, the older boys talking and laughing but Peter himself feeling a little green. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice boomed out over the babble on the platform.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years, over 'ere!"

"Don't worry, that's just Hagrid," Tony said, coming up behind Peter and noticing how the smaller student balked at the sight of the gigantic, bearded man. "He's very nice; looks a lot fiercer than he is."

Peter looked back at the giant. Squaring his shoulders, he took a step forward.

o.0.o

Remus Lupin:

The beginning of the Lupins' car ride to the station was quiet. Remus sat in the passenger seat, toying with the book he'd tucked into his pocket and staring out the window at the countryside. Mrs. Lupin was silent, staring out at the road and not moving but to turn the wheel a bit or adjust gears. The silence was pressing and heavy, but Remus couldn't muster up enough courage to break it. He'd seen the tear tracks on his mother's face.

"Remus?"

He looked up. "Yes, Mum?"

She kept her eyes locked on the road and her hands firmly on the wheel, but she was biting her lip and her knuckles were white.

"Remus, do you… do you remember what your father said the day you got your letter?"

Remus winced. Yes, he remembered what his dad had said—it had been replaying again and again in his dreams for the past week.

"Yes, Mum. Why?"

She didn't answer for a minute. Finally she sighed and said, "Remus… I just wanted to tell you now, so you're not surprised… just… don't expect him to be there when you come home for Christmas."

"He's… leaving?"

"Yes. It's just… it got to be too much for him to handle. He still feels guilty, about you, and he can't handle it. So he's going."

Mrs. Lupin said this all with a horrible, forced calm, but Remus wasn't fooled. Her hands were shaking; the car swerved the tiniest bit. He swallowed.

"It's my fault, isn't it? I was so stupid… Mum, I'm sorry…"

"No!" Remus jumped at how forceful her voice was, echoing through the inside of the car. "No, Remus. Don't be sorry, and for heaven's sake don't blame yourself. This is in no way your fault. It was going to happen eventually, I think."

All he could do was nod. His mother hardly ever shouted, that was more his dad's style, but when she did he knew to listen. No matter what she said, though, he could still feel the self-blame welling up in his gut.

"Remus, I want you to promise me something," Mrs. Lupin said, reaching a stoplight and turning to look at him. "Promise me that you won't let this affect your time at school. I want you to have fun, get good grades, and make friends. Don't dwell. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay, Mum. I'll try."

"That's my boy."

And Remus truly was resolved to try. He shoved the hurt and the confusion to the back of his mind and locked it up, refusing to let any of it show on his face when he hugged his mother goodbye and hopped onto the train. And later, when he stuck his head into a compartment with another lost-looking girl and asked if he could sit there, (she beamed brighter than he'd been expecting) he thought that he was already making some sort of progress.

Maybe.

o.0.o

Sirius Black:

Hogwarts was incredible. As soon as they'd stepped off the train they'd been ushered into tiny boats by a huge man (a giant!) and crossed the lake that looked like black glass, shining and reflecting the lighted windows of the gigantic, pale-stoned castle. The boats barely fit four people, so Sirius and James ended up crammed in with a small black-haired girl who looked about ready to pass out, and a quiet sandy-haired boy who didn't say anything, just stared up at the castle with eyes as big as dinner plates. Sirius thanked his lucky stars that they hadn't ended up with that bossy ginger or her annoying, greasy haired sidekick, although he'd love to have the chance to taunt 'Snivellus' again. The boy just made his skin crawl—he reminded him too much of the family he'd left behind, all Dark Arts and Slytherin worshipping.

The boats bumped up against the rocky shore. They jumped out—"All righ', you lot, follow me!"—and bobbed after the giant like a line of ducklings, some students tripping over long robes or nearly running into each othe, because they had their heads tilted back to look at the castle and couldn't see where they were going.

The giant raised one of his massive fists and knocked—once, twice, three times—on the castle doors. There was a split second of silence, and then they opened, sweeping inwards with a whoosh. A tall, imposing witch stood precisely in the center of the entrance, hands clasped behind her back. She stared at them all through rectangular glasses; her sharp, green-eyed gaze seemed to linger a second longer on Sirius than it did the others, though he couldn't be sure.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," rumbled the giant, ushering them up the steps and into the hall. They grouped together in a frightened clump, staring around at all the portraits and the huge, sweeping staircase.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."

The giant—Hagrid—nodded, disappearing up the stairs with less noise than Sirius had expected from someone so big.

"Now," said Professor McGonagall, "In a few moments, I will lead you up those stairs and into the Great Hall. You will be Sorted and placed into one of the four houses, which will act as your family for your time here at Hogwarts. You will sleep your house's dormitories, take classes with the rest of your house, and spend your free time in your house's common room. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin; each has its own noble history and has produced many notable witches and wizards."

She went on to explain the points system, which Andromeda had explained to Sirius ages ago; he tuned the professor out and began to look around at his classmates. James was standing a few feet away, staring up at Professor McGonagall with a slightly glazed look in his eye; Sirius could tell he wasn't listening to a word she was saying, and he grinned slightly.

"Mr. Black?"

Sirius jumped and looked back at McGonagall, not bothering to wonder how she knew his name.

"Yes, Professor?"

She gave him a stern glare from behind her glasses.

"Were you listening to what I was saying, Mr. Black?"

"Yes, Ma'am, of course I was." A few of his classmates giggled nervously.

"What are house points, Mr. Black, and what are they used for?" McGonagall seemed confident that she had caught him; it was all Sirius could do to hide a smirk.

"House points are what professors award when we do something good, or take away if we do something bad. At the end of the year the winning house, the one with the most points, gets the House Cup."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm. You are correct."

James turned and shot Sirius a grin and several of the other students snickered. McGonagall cleared her throat and recalled their attention.

"Follow me, please."

She led them up the staircase and through another pair of massive doors, and into a room that had to be at least as long as two quidditch pitches. Four long tables ran the length of the hall, and on a raised dais was the professors' table, with Dumbledore—that had to be him, his beard was so long it looked like he'd tucked it into his belt—sitting in the center, in a seat that closely resembled a throne. Candles bobbed in the air a few feet above their heads, and the constellations twinkled from above in the enchanted sky that served as the ceiling. They followed McGonagall down the center aisle, trying to ignore all the stares from the older students. They came to a stop in front of an old, patched hat that stood on a stool in front of the professors' table.

"This," called McGonagall, speaking now to the entire hall, "is the Sorting Hat. I will call you up one by one, place it on your head and it will sort you into one of the four houses. But first, it will sing its customary Welcome Song."

The hall was dead quiet, every eye trained on the dirty old hat, waiting. Then suddenly it stirred, a gash just above the brim opened, and it began to sing:

In lands of old and times forgotten
Four friends there were, four founders who
saw a need; an idea, begotten,
To start a school of magic new.

These four set off to begin their deed
Each having an idea in mind
Knew four houses the school should need
Names? They used their own, you'll find.

Brave Gryffindor, to his house did go
Those loyal in heart, strong and true,
If Lions be at your side, do know
The battle you wage is won to you.

Sly Slytherin, cunning he,
prized pure of blood above the rest,
Clever, cunning, of ancient family,
There in their dungeons these Snakes do nest.

Ravenclaw, the wisest she,
chose those strong of mind and quick of wit,
Learning, to those, most important be,
The tower of Eagles is closest fit.

Last Hufflepuff, she sweet of spirit,
Chose not to judge, nor should you.
To Hufflepuff go those great of merit,
Toil scares not these Badgers true.

Four founders each did build this school,
and many years stood tall and proud,
But Snakes and Lions, as a rule,
Must part their ways, in silence loud.

Now try me on, don't be afraid,
Into one of four you will be placed,
Do uphold their honors, you are bade,
And together coming dangers face.

The hall thundered with applause as the hat's mouth (Sirius supposed that was what he should call it) closed. McGonagall clapped along with the others and then pulled a rolled-up length of parchment from the folds of her cloak. She turned, cleared her throat (the applause died down) and held up the list.

"Adams, Marianne!"

A small girl with blonde pigtails slowly climbed the steps—her knees were shaking madly, and she practically fell when she sat down on the stool. McGonagall dropped the hat onto her head and it fell down over her face, covering her eyes and coming to rest practically on her shoulders. She sat still for several seconds, and then the hat's mouth-gash opened again. "RAVENCLAW!"

Marianne pulled the hat off and handed it to McGonagall before running down the steps to the Ravenclaw table, grinning widely. The hall applauded again, the Ravenclaw table the loudest.

McGonagall looked back at her list. "Avery, Cadmus!"

A tall, weedy boy walked up to the hat, scowled, and let it slide over his head. Barely a second later, it yelled, "SLYTHERIN!"

Avery smiled (not a very nice-looking smile, either) as he strolled over to the cheering table, sitting down next to a boy who looked like a human boulder. Sirius scowled when he caught sight of Narcissa, who wasn't even bothering to clap, but was instead staring at her reflection in one of the goblets.

And then, McGonagall called out, "Black, Sirius!"

Suddenly it felt hard to breathe. Sirius' heart was beating fast and his palms were sweating a bit, but he managed to stumble up the steps and sit down on the stool, catching a glimpse of the tables and all the staring faces before McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

The hat felt old and leathery as it slid down over Sirius' ears and eyes. The inside was a smooth expanse of black, despite the fact that Sirius was quite sure that the rip that served for the hat's mouth was right in front of his eyes. He felt the hat stir and a deep voice hissed into his ear,

"Ah, another Black, I see."

Sirius had to resist the urge to scowl. It was only a hat, of course; it couldn't see him.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Unfortunately? My, my, that's an attitude I haven't seen since Alphard back in 1939. Usually you Blacks are quite fanatical about your loyalty to your family name."

"Well, not me. I don't feel like supporting dark, twisted loonies. May I be sorted, please?"

"Yes, yes, of course…" Sirius got a vague impression of amusement from the hat, before it started to search him for qualities that would help place him in a house.

"Well, as a Black, I would normally place you in Slytherin, but there is something here that the others lack… you have plenty of cunning, yes, but also an impressive amount of bravery, and I believe loyalty, if you had someone worthy enough for it…"

"Please," Sirius found himself begging, "Please, place me anywhere you want, even Hufflepuff. Just not Slytherin. Anything but that."

"Slytherin would not suit you, boy, I see that now. No, I think the best house for you will be GRYFFINDOR!"

From what seemed like a great distance away, Sirius heard the hat shout its last word to the Hall. His ears didn't seem to be working properly; they felt like they were full of bees. He sat stunned for several seconds before his thoughts caught up with what the hat had said.

Gryffindor. He was in Gryffindor, not Slytherin!

Sirius jumped up from the stool, a grin threatening to split his face in half as he whipped the hat off of his head, handed it to a stunned McGonagall, and ran down the steps to the tables. The whole hall was filled with hissing whispers and there were glares emanating from the Slytherin table that, if looks could kill, would strike him dead right there, but Sirius didn't care. He flung himself down at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the stares from the older students, and looked back at the line of first years. James was grinning at him, and when he saw Sirius looking at him, he flashed a quick thumbs-up.

"Well… Yes, well, let's continue the Sorting, thank you," said McGonagall, who still looked rather stunned. She turned to the list once more—"Connor, Abigail!"

The line continued to get shorter and shorter as more students were sorted—"Evans, Lily," the ginger girl he and James had met on the train, became a Gryffindor as well, but she turned her back to Sirius when she sat down. The quiet, sandy haired boy that had been in Sirius's boat—"Lupin, Remus," apparently—had nearly fallen up the steps in his too-large robes when his name was called. He sat under the hat for longer than most of the others, nearly as long as Sirius, before it declared that he, too, was a Gryffindor. He seemed to be shaking as he took off the hat and placed it carefully on the stool again, and then made his way to the Gryffindor table, this time mindful of his robes.

Sirius had expected James to be the next Gryffindor, but the boy who went two people before him—"Pettigrew, Peter,"—joined their table after the longest sorting session yet. It was Sirius's personal opinion that Pettigrew, being small and chubby, with a definite green tint to his skin, didn't quite seem like Gryffindor material. Then again, as a Black, neither did Sirius, so who was he to judge?

"Snape, Severus," the greasy-haired, big-nosed boy that he and James had dubbed "Snivellus," became a Slytherin, just as he'd wanted and they'd expected. He chose a seat, much to Sirius's disgust, next to Lucius Malfoy, the smarmy, smooth-tongued git who was dating Narcissa. How anyone managed to fit into a seat next to a head that big was a mystery.

And then, finally, with "Yancy, Suzanne" being the last Hufflepuff to join the table, the Sorting ended. McGonagall whisked the hat away, and as soon as she had taken her seat again, Dumbledore stood up. The talking that had been going on amongst the students (mainly complaints of hunger from the older ones) ceased immediately.

"Welcome," Dumbledore said, spreading his arms wide. "There are many announcements to be made, but I daresay they will be more closely listened to on a full stomach. And so," he clapped his hands twice, "tuck in!"

Sirius turned to look at the table, and his jaw dropped. Where before the gleaming gold and silver platters had been completely empty, now they were heaped high with wonderful looking food- roasts, pies, potatoes… the list went on and on.

He had a feeling he was going to like Hogwarts.

o.0.o

Remus Lupin:

It has been proven throughout history that food is an excellent way to distract a boy from his troubles, and Remus was no exception. All of the worries that had been battering themselves against his skull- his dad's leaving, how his mother was handling it, and of course the ever present werewolf one—quieted as he inhaled as much roast chicken and mashed potatoes as possible. All the students around him were chattering happily to one another as they ate, but Remus stayed silent. The girl he'd sat with on the train had been sorted into Ravenclaw, and everyone else in his immediate vicinity seemed to know each other already, so it seemed that it would be best to let them carry on their conversations and not try to butt in.

After a while, the feast began to come to a close, and the food was replaced by an array of desserts just as wide. Remus was munching happily on a piece of peanut brittle when Dumbledore stood, silencing the hall once more.

"I hope," he said, smiling down at them, "that you all have enjoyed our marvelous feast. Now, I must ask for your attention for a few announcements, and then you will be off to your dormitories."

"First, I would like to welcome a new addition to our staff, Professor Whitehall, who will be taking the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

A young woman with long, dark brown hair and a cheerful smile stood up from where she was seated along the staff table and waved at the polite applause. Dumbledore waited until she was seated again before continuing.

"Second, I must again say, as I do every year, that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to every student. If you are caught entering it without express permission from your professors, there will be severe consequences. You are also warned that there is a new addition to the Forest that only serves to reinforce this rule; the Whomping Willow. This tree, while remaining dormant if left alone, can be violent and has the capability to inflict serious damage if provoked. You are warned to stay far away from it."

Dumbledore's expression had become very serious by the end of this speech, but now he smiled brightly and said, "And now that the announcements are all taken care of, it's off to bed! Prefects, please escort your first years to the dormitories."

Remus scrambled to his feet as all around him students stood and began to head out of the hall, a great wave of chattering and laughing people that left him a bit overwhelmed. There was a girl's voice shouting over the din, "Gryffindor First Years, over here, please!" Remus began to wade his way through the crowd. The voice, it turned out, belonged to a small, slender girl, who had a 'HG' badge pinned to the front of her robes—the head girl. She smiled at the little knot of confused first-years that had formed around her.

"Are we all here?" she asked. When no one said anything, just stared at her with wide eyes, she smiled and clapped her hands once. "All right then. My name is Elise, and I am the Head Girl. I'll be showing you the way up to the dormitories. Now, let's get you all up to the tower!"

Elise walked briskly, with the first years trailing after her like a flock of baby ducks. The climb up to the tower was long, involving many staircases (and an incident with a trick stair) as well as many portraits that called out greetings and frightened a couple of Muggle-born students nearly out of their wits.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of a huge painting of a rather fat woman in a pink silk dress, who smiled down at them all and said, "New first years, are you? Welcome to Gryffindor Tower! Do you have the password?"

Elise turned to them and said, "This is the Fat Lady. She is in charge of guarding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, and you can't enter unless you know the password, which is Godric."

The Fat Lady smiled and swung forward to admit them. The first years clambered through the hole in the wall and into a very cozy common room, decked out in tapestries and scarlet armchairs and sofas.

"The boys' dormitories are up the staircase to the left. The girls', to the right. All your belongings should be up there already. You should all go to sleep soon, so that you're not too tired for classes tomorrow. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to come to me or another prefect. Now, up to bed! Good night!"

Elise's voice was almost ridiculously cheery, but it was kind of nice to know that at least she was putting effort into her job. Remus trailed up the stairs after the other boys, realizing suddenly how tired he was.

The dormitory was cozy and warm, and the scarlet-curtained beds looked extremely inviting to the four exhausted boys who trooped through the door. They got ready for bed in silence, a combination of unfamiliarity and tiredness stopping any of them from trying to make conversation. Tomorrow, Remus decided, as he slipped under his covers, we can talk tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to sleep…

o.0.o