Sirius Black dips a quill pen into the inkpot on his desk and he reaches to the calendar hanging on the wall above his desk, crossing out the 30th of August. The line of black ink bleeds across the tiny square box, leaving only the 31st left unmarked. Sirius takes a deep breath, the corners of his mouth turning up. I've done it. I've made it. Tomorrow I'm leaving for Hogwarts. His heartbeat pulses faster, excitement for leaving and nerves for the unknown rushing through his body, fueling him. He places the quill back in the little jar he keeps them in and seals the inkpot, wiping the smudge of ink on his finger off onto the polished wood of his desk, smiling at the little imperfection he's left.
Sirius turns around, surveying the tidiness of his room; Walburga had insisted that he cleaned it before he left. They were both aware that Kreacher was fully capable of doing it himself, but Walburga told him to do it for disciplinary reasons, and Sirius agreed because he hates Kreacher going through his things. He crosses the room to his school trunk positioned by the closed door and he crouches over it. The boy lifts the lid, checking yet again through all of the things he has packed. It's only 11:30 in the morning and he has already done this check-up three times, making mad rushes around the house to find this book or that object. Sirius shifts through the things in his trunk, pushing aside robes, potion supplies, and the toothbrush he had just put in this morning.
Where is my comb? Sirius shoves his now messy pile of clothes out of the way, his comb not in sight. He jumps up in a sudden moment of nerves, spinning around to scan his room, wondering how he could have missed it before. Calm down! Sirius stops himself, taking a second to compose himself again. I'm getting anxious about nothing, it's just the nerves of leaving that's getting me all worked up. He then remembers that Regulus had borrowed his comb last night before they went out for dinner because he couldn't find his. Sirius decides to go get it.
The young wizard opens his door and walks across the hall to the room opposite his. He raises his fist to the closed door, the plaque with the letters R.A.B. hanging on it just above his head. He pauses and looks down at his feet in hesitation. Regulus has been acting very odd lately. Actually, he's been acting that way ever since I got my Hogwarts letter. I hope he doesn't mind me coming in. Sirius lets out a breath and knocks softly three times, the sounds echoing in the air around him, and the seconds after are silent, pressing in on Sirius' ears.
"Come in," Regulus calls through the door. Sirius bites his bottom lip and pulls it through his teeth once before opening the door. A bright, clean room greets him, straight and plain in a way that no ten-year-old's bedroom would naturally look. Regulus is in an armchair under his open window, reading a book propped up on his knees that are pulled up on the chair. The look on his face is soft and at-ease, but the moment he registers it's Sirius, Regulus gains a cold expression.
"I need my comb back," Sirius states flatly. He has never been good at acting causal when there is tension in a room. Regulus nods his head toward his desk to Sirius' left, then lowers his gaze back to the pages that ruffle in the breeze. Sirius turns to pick it up, and finds it lying perfectly lined up with the pieces of parchment and books that are spread out neatly. He has a sudden urge to mess-up the desk, so it doesn't look so stiff. But he picks up his comb and awkwardly looks back at his brother. Regulus raises his eyebrows when he sees him staring.
"I'll write to you," Sirius bursts out. "I mean, if you want me to." The other boy frowns, but then nods his head slightly before looking down again. What else should I say? What else should I admit to him? 'I'll miss you'? 'I hope our parents don't turn on you while I'm gone'? 'Don't become like them'? 'Don't become like me so you don't have to go through what I did'? But the thoughts turn to lead on his tongue and he struggles to form them into words, so he stands there opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
"Good luck with the tutor this year," Sirius says instead. Regulus nods again, this time not even looking up. The older brother takes the hint and closes the door behind him. An ache forms in his chest, becoming heavier and more painful with every step he takes back to his room. Just as Sirius reaches his door, he hears a sound that he has made many times, on nights when he has had enough of his family and shut himself in his room: the click of a lock. Sirius turns his head and looks at Regulus' closed door, and hears the sound of soft footsteps walking away, and he knows that his brother has locked his door. The ache becomes almost unbearable for a moment, because Sirius knows that once a Black child has locked their door, they have locked a person out of their life. And that person is me.
Sirius closes his trunk with a thud and snaps the latches of the lid into place for the last time. He has finally gathered everything he will need for living at Hogwarts for the next year, so now all he has to do is wait for the day to be over. It is almost dinnertime, and tomorrow is so tantalizingly close that Sirius feels like he is holding his breath.
Sirius drums his fingers on the closed lid of his trunk, feeling as though he is forgetting something, leaving something unfinished. He instantly connects it to the heavy feeling that has settled in his chest since his visit to Regulus' room. What am I going to do about Reg? Sirius stands up and throws himself back onto his bed, staring at the deep blue canopy hanging above him, with its stars and constellations stitched into the fabric. That canopy has been above his bed for as long as Sirius can remember. He can name each and every star due to his endless lessons on the celestial beings that have been the namesakes of every member of the Black family for centuries. The star that Sirius is named after is stitched in right above his head, tiny detailed rays of light beaming out of it to signify its brightness. The Regulus star is located just a few constellations away, closer to Sirius' star than others, but still so far away; exactly like how his brother Regulus is just across the hall, but is so distant from him.
Over the past few years we have become a little distant, but we've still been brothers. We've had our brief moments of connection here and there. But now that I'm going off to Hogwarts and won't be spending time with him anymore, he's completely cut himself off from me. Sirius presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, blocking out the sight of the tiny stars that seem to whirl above his head. It feels wrong to leave without fixing things with Regulus, but what can I do? Maybe once we've been away from each other for a while he'll realize he misses me? But we've been away from each other for long time, in a way. Don't all siblings go through this? You love each other one day, then hate each other the next, and you don't really connect again until you're both teenagers together? Is that what this is? Sirius lowers his hands to rest them on his chest, trying to make sense of all the questions racing through his head. It's in these moments, when Sirius feels lost, that he wishes he had a good relationship with his parents, so that he could ask them these questions. But if I did get along with my parents, I wouldn't have all these problems in the first place, would I?
Sirius looks up at his stars again, with his eyes following invisible lines that connect the constellations, like a map in the sky. If only there was a map in the stars that held the answers to life.
Sirius forks a small pile of mashed potatoes into his mouth, his eyes darting up to look at Regulus. In the stony silence of the room, his brother is looking at his plate as he carefully cuts a piece of meat, with perfect posture. As Sirius chews his potatoes, he flicks his gaze to their father Orion at the head of the table on their left, Regulus an exact copy of his position and movements in the way they eat. Sirius looks back at Regulus, then their mother Walburga out of the corner of his eye, who has a sort of grace in her movements while still managing to look stiff. Sirius looks back at Regulus to see if he can detect any of Walburga's features in him, but is unable to find any of her grace in him. Sirius scoops another forkful of food into his mouth, raising his gaze to Regulus again, nearly choking when he sees that his brother is staring at him. He feels a brief moment of triumph at finally capturing Regulus' attention, but it turns into discomfort when he sees the frown on the other boy's face.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" Regulus' words tear through the thick silence, transforming the feeling in the room that could have passed as peace into a tense feeling of unease. Unsure of how to respond, Sirius shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders at the same time, only managing to make a kind of flailing motion. This attracts the attention of their parents; now all three of them are looking at him.
"Why are you ignoring me?" Sirius returns, and only after he's spoken does he think now might not be the best time to start this conversation. Too late, but I guess it's now or never to talk about this.
"What are you talking about?" his brother frowns in innocent confusion, but his eyes show Sirius he knows exactly what he's talking about.
"Don't pretend you don't know," Sirius replies, his voice becoming sharp. He can feel all his frustrations suddenly boiling up. "Answer the question! You won't talk to me, and you won't tell me why. You ignore me completely, then when we get a chance to talk alone, you act like an arsehol–"
"Sirius!" both of his parents speak at once. Regulus' face is red, but he chooses to yet again ignore Sirius.
"Mother, father, I don't know what he means, I haven't been ignoring him at all," the younger boy says in a fake hurt voice. "It's him who's been acting odd lately, this isn't the first time he's called me that." Sirius glares at him. How dare he turn this against me? He never takes the blame for anything. Sirius knows it's childish, but he can't help feeling angry for yet again being the son at fault.
"Sirius, why have you been treating Regulus unfairly?" Orion demands. Sirius turns his glare on his father.
"Why do you always believe what Reg says?" Sirius lashes out. "You don't know at all what's been going on between us. You never notice anything about us until it's something I've done wrong!" The anger towards his family that he's suppressed for the last few months in an attempt to get on their good side tears free, as strong as ever.
"Don't talk to your father that way!" Walburga raises her voice. "Apologize to him and your brother immediately."
"I would apologize if what I said wasn't true, but it is true," Sirius yells as he pushes up from his chair, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. He feels kind of scared at how hysterical he's acting over this, something that had started as simply feeling upset that Regulus was ignoring him. But he's knows Reg is not really what he's angry about, it was just something that tipped him over edge into the anger that is always waiting inside of him. Sensing the long awaited storm brewing inside Sirius, his family tense as if to square off against the blast.
"You don't care about me, not even Reg," he accuses, taking in everyone's cold, uncaring expressions. "You don't even care about each other. You don't know the meaning of the word love. You all have black hearts, and unfeeling bodies without souls that only care about sucking the happiness out the world and making life a living Hell–"
For a moment, Sirius doesn't know why he's stopped talking and why his head has been jerked to the side. Then he feels the intense stinging on his cheek. He looks to his right, where Walburga is standing with her hand still raised, the skin on her fingers red. Sirius slowly registers with shock that his mother has just backhanded him.
He raises his quivering hand to his face in surprise, staring wide-eyed at Walburga as his vision blurs slightly from tears. Everyone stays frozen and silent; Walburga nor Orion has ever hit their children before. Sirius searches his mother's face for some sign of horror, or regret; but he finds nothing. Her face is like a cold, hard wall. Sirius doesn't stop to look at anyone else's reaction before he turns to leave the room. I just want to be alone. But before he can make two steps towards the door, Orion stops him.
"Sirius Black, come sit back down," he demands with a voice of steel. "Don't think you can just walk away after you've acted the way you did." After the way I've acted? Every part of Sirius' body screams at him to run out of the room, away from the shouting, the pain, and this new fear that his mother has planted in him. He pauses for a second, but when he hears a floorboard creak from where Walburga is standing, he turns around immediately, not wanting anyone to touch him. He slips back into his chair and stares at his hands clasped in his lap, shrinking himself like he hasn't done in a long time. Sirius can't decide whether he feels more scared, hurt, or angry. All three emotions as well as many others race through his body, confusing and twisting his mind in circles as to how he feels about all of this.
Sirius catches a glimpse just above his line of sight of Regulus shifting uncomfortably in his chair. It's all your fault this happened. Sirius immediately feels guilty for blaming this on his brother, but then feels angry again because in a way it is his fault. Sirius hears Walburga sit back down in her chair and clear her throat.
"Apologize to your brother immediately," she orders. For a second Sirius thinks she's talking to Regulus, but then he figures she must be addressing himself.
"I'm sorry, Regulus," Sirius says in a small voice. The words hurt to come out, less because of his still stinging face, and more because it feels like everyone else should be apologizing to him, not the other way around. Sirius doesn't even look up to see his brother's reaction when he hears him speak.
"I forgive you, Sirius," Regulus replies. He speaks calmly and clearly, just like a noble should sound, but Sirius can't tell if he imagines the tiniest quiver in the other boy's voice.
"Now finish your dinner," Orion says, "it is an important day tomorrow." Yes, it is indeed. It's now more important than you will ever know. Sirius picks up his fork and scoops up more food, bracing his arm against the table as he does so just in case he shakes again. He shoves the food into his mouth, even though he doubts he'll be able to keep it down. He stares straight down at his plate, the pain now fading from his face, but a new pain settling into his chest.
Why? Why why why? Why does it have to be me?
Sirius stares at the strip of moonlight on his door, the light flickering due to the trees dancing in the wind outside his window. It's a wind that he cannot hear, but he's sure he can feel howling in his chest. He had locked his door as soon as he was allowed to go to his room after dinner. He knew that his parents were fully capable of unlocking it with magic though, so he felt the need to watch his door, just in case. He squints at the clock on his bedside table, right next his wand, and can just make out the time to be one in the morning. It's odd to think that today, when the sun comes up, I'll be leaving.
Sirius feels a kind of guilt rise in his heart, and he curls up on his right side. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten angry with Regulus, it wasn't fair to him to do that in front of our parents. Maybe I did deserve to be punished, all I seem to do is make things worse. Sirius doesn't stop his eyes from welling up, nor the lone tear from sliding over the bridge of his nose and soaking into his pillow. That's when he hears his doorknob jiggle.
Sirius starts and sits up, grabbing his wand and aiming it at the door; even though he knows he's not allowed to use magic, it makes him feel better to hold it. He waits a few seconds watching his doorknob, expecting the lock to click open and for his parents to march in, but the only thing that happens is a slight tapping on the door. Regulus? Sirius slips silently out of bed and sneaks to the door. He holds his wand behind his back and puts his left hand on the lock, and remembers at the last second to wipe his eyes and blink them clear. Sirius slides the lock away quietly and slowly opens the door, afraid of waking anyone up. He peeks through the crack and finds his brother staring him right in the face.
"May I please come in?" Regulus whispers. His eyes flick to the spot on Sirius' face where Walburga had struck him. There isn't a mark there, Orion had healed it so there wouldn't be a bruise for everyone to see at Hogwarts. Sirius looks down and pulls his bottom lip through his teeth, pondering his brother's question. After a few seconds he nods and steps back for him to come in. He sits on the edge of his bed and watches Regulus close the door and stand next to it. He seems unsure of what to say, despite the fact that he is awake this late at night, probably having planned what to say to Sirius for hours.
"Is your…" Regulus trails off as he gestures to his face, his whisper sounding cautious, as if he isn't allowed to care about how Sirius feels anymore. Sirius bites his lip again, and shifts uncomfortably before nodding at the floor in response to his brother's unfinished question. All his fire that had burned inside him at dinner has died out, making him feel small and tired. I don't even care if Regulus is angry at me anymore, I can't fix it anyways. But he feels like he should say something to Regulus, something like 'I'm sorry, it's okay' or anything that an older brother should say. But I just don't have the energy to fix anything right now. I don't want to be angry, or brave, or anything that has something to do with tying me down more to my family. I don't belong with anyone here, not even Regulus, so it's useless trying…anything.
"Why are you here?" is all Sirius whispers back into the dark, resisting the urge to curl back up in bed. He searches Regulus' face, looking for a sign that he can do just that. His younger brother looks him in the eye and frowns.
"You don't have to apologize," he breathes after a pause, so quiet Sirius barely makes out what he said. Then he turns and lets himself out, shutting the door behind him. Sirius stares at the closed door and repeats Regulus' words in his head. You don't have to apologize. You don't have to apologize. Sirius can't figure out what he means, then he remembers dinner when he had to apologize for how he acted towards Regulus. Oh.
Sirius lies on his back as he pulls up his covers, staring at his stars above his bed. 'You don't have to apologize'. He's not upset at for me getting angry with him. He understands. That means there's hope. He looks up at the star Regulus and smiles.
Sirius stops his trolley and gapes at the Hogwarts Express. It gleams in the light, and smoke dances through the air around it; it almost seems to glow with the magic it holds. It is the most beautiful thing Sirius has seen in his life to this moment. There are voices and people all around him, crowding in on him, but he feels freer than he has in years. A grin lights his face as he turns to look around him, drinking in all the people and chattering pets. Without even thinking, he pulls ahead of his family with his trunk towards the train as if it is a magnet, his very soul yearning to be sitting in the train and heading away. It isn't just the thought of going away that thrills him, it is also the thought of going somewhere.
"Sirius, slow down, let your family catch up with you," Walburga calls from behind him, putting on a voice that makes her sound stern but almost motherly at the same time, a voice that she uses when they are in public. But despite the mask she has mastered over the years, Sirius can hear what's really underneath, the annoyance and a warning to not force them to show their bad side. He forgets his excitement momentarily and pulls his trolley to a halt, looking over his shoulder to see his family a little ways behind, stuck behind a family hauling several trolleys and trunks.
Sirius looks around him as he waits, watching children and teenagers carry trunks and cages of pets towards the train. Then a sound to his right catches his attention: a sob. He whirls around in concern, his eyes landing on a mother leaning over to hug a small girl, who Sirius assumes is one of the first years like him. The mother cries as she strokes the girl's hair, who is crying as well. Even though he knows it's rude to stare, he can't pull his eyes away from the sight of the two of them clutching onto each other.
"I love you mum, I'm going to miss you so much," the girl cries into her mother's shoulder, who holds her tighter in response.
"Sirius!" He doesn't realize until now that he had been cocking his head slightly as he looked at the alien sight. He turns to see his parents and Regulus reach him through the mob of people. It's strange seeing their cold expressions after looking at the mother and daughter, like going inside on a sunny day and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
"Stay close to us, next time," Orion orders, making an effort to keep the steel out of his voice. Then he narrows his eyes at him and leans into him slightly, and Sirius knows a lecture is coming.
"We will not have you misbehaving, understand? School is a place where you make connections and allies, not where you make a fool of yourself. Always keep a good image, this is your future on the line." Your reputation, you mean. Then his father gives him a poisonous smile and pats him on the shoulder, waiting until Sirius nods. The urge to escape fills Sirius as he sees yet another layer peel away from Orion, revealing to him the darkness inside his father. They don't care about me, they only care about themselves and their image.
At this point Sirius begins to notice people looking at them, families whispering to each other at the sight of the Blacks. His parents pretend like they don't notice, but Sirius can see that they relish the attention, because attention means power.
Then Walburga leans over and puts her mouth to Sirius' ear, placing her hand on his opposite shoulder. Sirius tries with all his might to not flinch or pull away. I don't know who my mother is anymore. But I guess I did know all along, in a way.
"You know what is expected of you, don't you?" She hisses, and Sirius nods hurriedly. "You will do well in your classes, behave, and make useful friends. You must show everyone what it means to be a Black and the power we have. In a few years you will be head boy of Slytherin, and you will make us proud." She puts weight on the last statement and squeezes his shoulder as she says them, as if she can imprint her orders into his brain if she presses hard enough. Okay, just let me go. Let me go. Sirius barely dares to breath because she is so close. Walburga is about to pull away when she whispers one last thing.
"I own you."
Walburga straightens and takes Orion's arm, the two of looking at each other as if they have made a victory. He feels a chill run down his spine from Walburga's words, and with the knowledge that people are in awe of them, in awe of the power that has seeped into their souls and made them evil. Sirius feels something tightening his chest, something that can only be called hate.
Regulus steps up to him, standing straight and proud like his parents, but his eyes keep darting to the Hogwarts Express, wonder and longing in his expression. He awkwardly holds out his arms for a hug and Sirius embraces him stiffly. Are you doing this for appearance? Do you actually want to hug me? Do you still love me? By the time these thoughts have raced through his head, Regulus is pulling away.
"Have a good year," Regulus nods to him curtly.
"You as well," Sirius returns. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, because he doesn't have enough time. But a whistle blows, letting everyone know that the train is leaving. Sirius' heart suddenly starts beating faster. This is happening too fast! Goodbye is all he can say before he turns to pick up his trunk and drag it through the nearest door onto the train.
There is a wave of students rushing to get on at the same time as him, so he is pushed into the corridor with his trunk handle in both hands. Sirius isn't quite sure how he feels about all these people pushing up against him, so he walks faster, ducking into a compartment with relief. He notices dimly that there is someone in here already, but he ignores them as he puts his trunk on the shelf above the seats. He drops into the seat on the right of the window and cranes his neck to look back down the station to where his family was standing. Sirius isn't sure why he wants to see them one last time, or what to expect when he sees them, but all he sees is the backs of their cloaks as they step through the entrance to the platform. They didn't even wait until the train left. Sirius turns back around, not sure how he feels about that sight as his stomach leaps with nerves.
Then Sirius sees the person sitting across from him for the first time, and suddenly none of that matters.
In front of him is a boy his age, and he is staring out at the platform with his head resting against the window frame. His hair is a light brown that falls around his face in very slight curls. A few freckles dot his pale face and cluster underneath his forest green eyes. Sirius' eyes fall on an inch long scar that hooks over his jaw on the right side of his face. The scrawny boy is dressed in plain clothes, scuffed pants and a button-up long-sleeved shirt even though it's warm out.
The train starts to move, jostling the boy upright from his headrest. Sirius looks away, suddenly fearing he has been looking at him too long. The other boy raises his hand in a small wave at someone outside the window that Sirius can't see, then they have left the station and they are out in the daylight. Sirius looks out the window as the station disappears from view, leaving behind his old life.
Sirius' mind whirls, spinning countless thoughts around in an attempt for all of them to be focused on at the same time. This is it. I'm leaving. Did I forget anything at home? I should have gone to the bathroom another time before we left. I can't believe I'm not going to see my family until Christmas break. He grips the seat in an attempt to ground himself, bring himself back to the present; a present that includes a boy sitting in front of him, and Sirius' extremely rusty social skills.
Should I say hello to him? It would be the polite thing to do. But will it bother him? Sirius glances back at him, just in time to meet the boy's eyes as he looks at Sirius. His gaze is slightly unnerving, like he is already deciding what he thinks about Sirius.
"Hello," Sirius bursts out, breaking the silence they have carefully made. "My name is Sirius Black." He lets out the tiniest of breaths, glad to have gotten that over with. The boy blinks at him for a moment with a look like panic in his eyes, as if he is caught off guard and doesn't know what to say.
"Uh, hello," he mutters back in a small voice, avoiding Sirius' eyes as his gaze flicks from his face to the floor. Sirius can see how nervous he is by the way he tightly grips the book in his lap with both hands. "I'm Remus Lupin."
Sirius smiles at him, pleased he managed to make him talk. The boy, Remus, also seems glad that the introductions are over and smiles back lopsidedly. Sirius suddenly feels a need to protect Remus, because he seems so much more nervous than himself, and Sirius knows how horrible it is to feel afraid.
"Are you a first year as well?" Sirius asks politely. I refuse to act like a Black around anyone I meet, I want to start fresh so badly. He doesn't seem to recognize my last name, so there's hope. Remus nods and absentmindedly pulls his sleeves further over his hands before gripping his book again. He still isn't meeting Sirius' eyes, looking all over the compartment around them. Then the door slides open, making them both look up at the two boys now standing in their compartment.
"Hey, mind if we sit here?" one boy asks as he already begins to put his trunk next to Remus'.
"No, go ahead," Sirius replies, even though both of them have already closed the door and sat down. The boy sitting next to Remus has black hair that sticks up in the front, a crazy look that matches the wide grin stretching across his lit up face. His hazel eyes are wide, and Sirius can't help smiling at him because he looks so happy and ridiculous.
"James Potter," the wizard states as he thrusts his hand out into the center of the compartment. Remus fidgets and makes no attempt to shake his hand, so Sirius takes it and introduces himself. James' eyes widen even further, if that is possible, when he hears his name.
"You're a Black?" James asks as they release hands. "My mother is Dorea Black."
"Really?" Sirius returns. "That must mean we're cousins, from what I remember." Why have I never heard of James? I've heard Dorea Black mentioned, but I never knew who she married. James grins even wider.
"That's ace! I've never met one of my cousins before!" he bounces a little in his seat, then turns his attention to Remus.
"What's your name?" James asks him. Remus looks at him with an anxious expression and his face goes red. He pulls at his sleeves again before saying his name. James nods at him and seems to forget about him a moment later.
"I'm Peter Pettigrew," the boy sitting next to Sirius offers. His hair is mousy brown and trimmed almost to the scalp. His hand keeps drifting up to touch his head, so Sirius guesses he just got it cut recently. Peter has a pointed nose and small eyes, so he kind of reminds Sirius of a rodent, like a mouse or a vole. He has a bit of weight on him, which makes him look rather unbalanced because he is quite small. Sirius catches himself quickly. Don't judge him by his looks, that's a very Black thing to do.
"It's nice to meet you Peter," Sirius returns, and feels better when Peter looks relieved that someone is talking to him. Nobody speaks after that, so Sirius thinks for a moment that maybe he said something wrong, but then he reminds himself that everyone is just as nervous as he is.
Sirius finds himself looking at Remus again, who is now reading his book. Underneath his pale, gripping fingers, Sirius can just read the title The Standard Book of Spells ~ Grade 1 on the cover. The boy has a slight frown on his face, making Sirius wonder if he is just concentrating, or in a bad mood. Even though he obviously doesn't want to talk to anyone, Sirius' head whirls with things he can ask him. Why do I want to talk to this boy, out of all of them? He stops thinking of things to say to consider this. I guess he looks as nervous as I feel. But I guess I shouldn't pressure him.
"So what house do you think you'll be in?" James asks, shaking Sirius from his thoughts. James is leaning forward in interest, looking at all three of them. Peter squirms a bit in his seat, looking conflicted.
"I'll probably end up in Hufflepuff, that's where my parents were in," he replies unenthusiastically. James seems almost disappointed by the house Peter mentioned, but is undiscouraged and turns his attention to Sirius expectantly. Sirius feels nerves rise in his chest. He already knows what the Blacks are like, so he must also know that all of them have been in Slytherin. I don't really want to remind him.
"I'll be in Slytherin, like the rest of my family," Sirius says as calmly as he can, not bothering to add in any words such as 'probably' or 'maybe', not wanting to get James' hopes up. He really doesn't seem like he would be in Slytherin, he seems nice so I don't want to disappoint him when I'm sorted into a different house. But James grins at Sirius' answer.
"Maybe you'll be the first Black to not get into Slytherin," he suggests. Sirius blinks in surprise at his comment. I've never really thought about being in a different house before. James then looks over at Remus, who is still concentrating on his book. He clears his throat in an attempt to get his attention, successfully causing Remus to raise his head.
"Pardon?" he mutters, looking anxiously around at them when he realizes they are all looking at him expectantly. James chokes on a laugh at Remus' panicked expression, which immediately turns to hurt. Sirius finds himself angry with James for acting that way, when clearly Remus has some anxiety.
"James was just asking what house you think you'll be in," Sirius offers. Remus looks into his eyes cautiously, seeming to decide whether Sirius is teasing him now as well.
"Ravenclaw," he mumbles simply after a few seconds, then hunching over his book again, his hair hanging down to cover his eyes. This isn't going too well, we've all said different houses so far.
"I'm going to be in Gryffindor," James announces before anyone can ask him. He sounds so confident with his answer that Sirius feels a strange twinge in his chest at the idea that someone can be so confident of where they belong. Peter makes a small sigh, and Sirius suddenly thinks maybe he's not the only one who feels this way.
A few minutes pass in complete silence, each boy seeming to hold his breath, unsure of what to do. Sirius shifts uneasily, looking at the others out of the corner of his eye. Remus is still reading, Peter is picking at his nails as if they're the most interesting things in the world, and James…looks like he is ready to explode.
"Somebody please say something," James suddenly bursts out like he's been holding it in for too long. "I can't stand this." All of the other boys stare at him. Well, now is the time to say something.
"Thank you very much for interrupting my thoughts, I was just about to come up with a cure for cancer," Sirius replies before he can even consider if the joke is funny. I can't even remember the last time I made a joke. He holds his breath for one, fateful second, then James laughs. It's loud, leaving James clutching his stomach. It's a nice laugh, one of those cheerful kinds that welcome others to join in. Sirius grins in relief, and sure enough Peter chuckles as well, seeming to release some tension. Remus even looks up from his book.
"That's more like it," James says happily, sitting more forward in his seat. Sirius relaxes his shoulders, only now realizing they had crept upwards during the awkward silence.
"So," Sirius starts, feeling the need to keep talking and not let this chance of making friends disappear. "What do you all know about Hogwarts?" James perks up, rubbing his hands together theatrically.
"Both of my parents went to Hogwarts," he announces excitedly, "so they've told me loads of stories." Peter widens his eyes and leans towards James.
"Like what?" He presses excitedly. James then launches into an account of his father's first flying lesson, where he had supposedly flown so fast all nearby windows had shattered. Sirius laughs as Peter gapes in amazement. The story is clearly exaggerated, but he enjoys it nonetheless as James twists it onwards, filling the compartment with warmth and ease.
The chatter flows easily, and as the sky gradually begins to darken outside, Sirius begins to feel a little something like gratitude towards these strange boys who have introduced him to a world where happiness can exist.
Crossing the lake is the most surreal thing Sirius has ever experienced. He wasn't too sure about getting into the little boat since he had never been in one before. Now, as it magically slides its way across the black surface, Sirius' veins are coursing with a mixture of fear and excitement. Above, Hogwarts looms with a welcoming glow that beckons him closer. Below, dark depths stretch out unknown below him. He tries to distract himself from his indescribable apprehension by looking around him. Many other boats flock around his, tipping here and there with their full loads of excited children. The light from the lanterns dance across the water, making Sirius feel for a moment as though he were floating through flakes of gold. That's nicer to think about than monsters possibly swimming below me.
"Do you think there'll be enough food for us all at the feast?" James wonders behind him, as they approach a massive hole in the rock ahead of them.
"Why wouldn't there be?" Peter replies. "They can magically make as much food as they need to."
"Can they really?" James bounces in excitement. Have they never heard of house elves? Sirius rolls his eyes until James' bounces rock the boat, causing Sirius to hurriedly clutch the sides to steady it. However, he is distracted from his fear of plunging into the water by getting brushed in the face by ivy hanging from the entrance. Once they are through, Sirius looks up in wonder as they enter a large cavern, the voices of first years bouncing off the walls high above. The boats slide into place alongside docks, and the disorder begins as everyone disembarks.
Sirius realizes his heart is pounding as they climb the stairs carved into the rock. In a few minutes I'll be in Slytherin. The thought encompasses his mind, driving away the sounds of James and Peter talking behind him. I hope my cousins aren't awful to me. Maybe they'll be nice, we're in school after all. They can't be too unfair when we're in public. Still, the thought of spending his time with his cousins weighs on Sirius' shoulders. It would be so much nicer to be with these boys instead. The train ride was so fun, talking and laughing with them was so easy. I want everyday to be like that.
All too soon the first years are being lead into the Great Hall.
Sirius looks up in awe at the starry ceiling and struggles to slow his heartbeat. He gazes at the countless blackclad students in the room and feels blood pound through his head. He stops before a few stairs leading to a stool and wipes the sweat from his palms. He stares at a hat sing a song and fights down the dread weighing down in his stomach like a brick. He watches first years ascend the steps and thinks about walking out of the room.
"Black, Sirius."
Everything stops. Sirius swears he can hear his name echoing in his ears. He slowly brushes past some first years and climbs up the steps to the stool. A woman who he dimly remembers to be named McGonagall holds out the hat, waiting to place it on his head. Sirius settles onto the stool and stares out at the sea of people before him. He starts as he notices his cousin Bellatrix staring up at him expectantly with a strange smile on her crooked face, like she's looking forward to sinking her fingernails into his skin like claws.
'A Black, eh?' A voice says but somehow doesn't. Are you the sorting hat? Sirius thinks it out of curiosity to himself, but starts when he realizes the hat can hear his thoughts.
'Yes,' he replies. 'And you are very curious indeed.' Sirius clutches the edges of the stool tightly as the brick in his stomach grows a little heavier. How so?
'I have sorted many Blacks before, but you, you don't feel the same as them,' the hat ponders. Sirius feels a bit of hope kindle inside him.
'You don't fit in with the rest, you resent your family and all they stand for. And you're defiant towards them, that shows great courage,' the hat clarifies. Sirius shivers in excitement and feels him urge the hat on. Is it possible I don't have to be in Slytherin?
'Yes. It is certain.' His heart skips a beat.
"Gryffindor!"
The Hall falls silent, and Sirius lets loose a surprised, joyous laugh.