"It's today! It's today!" James shouted excitedly throughout the Manor. "Bailey, it's today!"
Bailey, the Potters' house elf, watched with her big blue eyes as her young master jumped with excitement. For James, Bailey was like a second mother, taking care of him and teaching him the art of baking the best cookies in the world.
"Are my parents awake?" James crouched down to Bailey's height.
"They are in the tea room, Young Master. They've asked me to tell you that before breakfast, you must shower and get dressed. The Pettigrews are coming for breakfast."
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me James, Bailey?" James rolled his eyes in mock anger.
"Bailey is sorry. Bailey didn't mean to make you angry," she apologized.
"I'm not mad, Bailey, but drop the formalities, please. You're family, like a second mother to me, and I will treat you with the respect you deserve. Sit down with us for breakfast, and don't make excuses for me. Everyone needs breakfast. You used to tell me that when I was little," James said, smiling. "Besides, today I'm going to Hogwarts, and I'm going to miss you and your cookies."
James didn't take long to shower and get dressed. He put on the clothes that his house elf had prepared for him and went down to have breakfast. His father, as always, was reading the Daily Prophet while sipping his coffee. His mother and Elizabeth were chatting animatedly, and Peter was talking to Bailey while eating jam toast.
"Isn't it an amazing day today?" James announced his presence, making everyone turn to look at him as he sat next to Peter.
"Good morning, James. Are you excited for today? We heard you scream," Elizabeth giggled as Dorea looked at him disapprovingly, although she smiled too.
"I'm so excited, Aunt Liz. I'm finally going to be able to go to Hogwarts. I'll be a Gryffindor like Dad," James practically buzzed with excitement.
"And what problem do you have with Slytherin, young man? I remind you that I was Slytherin and proud," Dorea looked at him, raising her eyebrow, internally laughing at how he blushed.
"Mom, don't take this the wrong way, but green doesn't suit me," James chuckled, feeling his ears turn pink.
"Maybe I'm a Slytherin, after all, that's where the dark wizards go, right? No offense to Aunt Dory," Peter whispered, making the entire table look at him sympathetically.
Even though two years have passed since the incident, Peter still felt guilty about what happened to his father. He felt that he did not deserve to go to had taken James quite a while to get that idea out of his head, telling Peter that he wasn't bad, he was just a boy to whom bad things had happened.
"That's not true, Pete. Besides, you're not a dark wizard. I may not like Slytherin, and I may think they're all sly, manipulative snakes, but my mother is one, and you don't think she's a dark witch, do you?" James reassured his friend.
"James Charlus Potter, you take that back immediately, young man!" his mother cried out, clearly offended by the comment.
"Dory, you know that our son is not far off, right? You do have a manipulative streak," Dorea glared at her husband, making Charlus raise his hands in surrender. "But I love you anyway. I married you; you're my little snake."
"Charlus Potter, you are walking on thin ice," Dorea hit him lightly in the chest while Charlus laughed. "Abuse, woman, don't hit me."
"Anyway, Pete, I don't think you're a Slytherin, but hey, the Sorting Hat takes your preferences into account," James patted him on the back
It didn't take long for the Potters and the Pettigrews to be ready to go. Although pureblood families— not considered blood-traitors— could Apparate directly, a secret not many people knew, Charlus preferred to get around in his magically modified Bentley.
The ride to the station was filled with laughter and excitement. James couldn't contain his enthusiasm, bouncing in his seat and talking animatedly about all the things he hoped to experience at Hogwarts.
As they approached Platform 9 3/4, the energy in the car grew even more palpable. The parents exchanged amused glances at the children's exuberance. Charlus parked the Bentley with a flourish, and they all stepped out onto the was a sea of students and their families. James, with his distinctive messy hair, stood out in the crowd. The train whistle echoed through the station, as James and Peter said their goodbyes.
"James honey, it's no use telling you not to get into trouble because you're going to do it anyway," James nodded, he was already thinking about all the possibilities there would be at Hogwarts to play pranks "but please don't neglect your studies."
"Your mother is right, James, but know that both things are compatible, just don't have too much fun." Charlus chuckled, ruffling James' hair.
"You take care, Young Master. Bailey will miss you," Bailey said, her voice filled with genuine emotion, patting James on the head.
"I'll miss you too, Bailey. But don't worry, I'll write letters, and maybe you can sneak some cookies into them," James replied with a mischievous grin.
Bailey chuckled, "Of course, Young Master. Now, off you go, make us proud."
"Petey, I'm very proud of you, it doesn't matter which House you end up in. Have a good time and don't get into too much trouble with James." Elizabeth placed a kiss on the top of her son's blonde head.
"I'm going to miss you, mom. I love you." Peter hugged his mother tightly
Elizabeth smiled warmly at Peter, brushing a hand through his hair. "I'll miss you too, my sweet boy. But Hogwarts is going to be an incredible adventure for you. Remember, we're just an owl away if you need anything."
The two boys gathered their belongings and made their way to the Hogwarts Express. As they boarded the train, excitement and nervousness filled the air. The compartments were quickly filling up with students, and James and Peter found an empty one to settle into.
Sirius watched his mother silently through the ornate mirror as she combed his unruly curls. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension. Despite all the yelling, insults, and slamming doors, his mother continued to comb his curls as she did when he was younger. The only difference now was the absolute silence that accompanied the ritual. Ironically, Sirius as much as he hated her, he let her do it because he felt that in some twisted way, his mother still cared about him, and he clung to that sentiment like a lifeline.
"Mother, do you think Regulus will one day live up to Father?" Sirius asked, his eyes fixed on their reflections in the comb in his mother's hand felt both comforting and suffocating
His mother, Walburga, was brushing his curls, her movements precise, untangling knots with practiced ease. The room was silent, filled only with the rhythmic sound of the comb against his hair. Then, abruptly, she stopped, lifting her head to meet Sirius's eyes in the mirror.
"What kind of a question is that?" Walburga's voice cut through the silence, her eyes narrowing as she continued to brush his hair.
"You know exactly what I mean. Every time you look at me, I see it written on your face." Sirius said, turning around to face her. Memories of a time when his mother expressed pride in him flashed before his eyes, a stark contrast to the current strained relationship.
"Enlighten me, Sirius, what do you see in my face every time I look at you?" Walburga towered over him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"You hate me," Sirius retorted defiantly. "Every time you look at me, I see how much it disappoints you to have a son like me. Do you think Regulus will one day be up to the task of Father?"
"You hate me. Every time you look at me, I see how much of a disappointment I am as a son, and how much you wish Regulus was the heir instead of me. So, I'll ask again, do you think Regulus will one day be up to Father?" Sirius's voice shook as he tried to mask the pain
"But he is not, Sirius. Your brother is not the heir; you are, and you should behave as such!" His mother's anger flared. "And I have never told you that I hate you. You are my son, blood of my blood, and one day you will be the head of this family."
Sirius snapped back, his Black temper shining through, "You never told me that you hated me, but you never told me that you loved me either. When was the last time you told me how proud you were of me? At what point did I stop being your brightest star? Because that's what you always told me."
A vulnerability crept into Walburga's voice as she hisses, "When did you stop paying attention to everything I told you? Where is that child who hid behind my skirt and asked me to tell him the story of our family?"
"That child grew up, Mother," Sirius said, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "That boy realized that all people deserve respect, not because of their blood or social status, but because they are human beings."
"Oh, please don't make me laugh. You're a Black, Sirius, and you will be until the day you die. You will never be like the rest; you will always be above or do you think I haven't seen you walk down the street? With that haughty look of yours and your chest puffed out in arrogance," Walburga mocked the way Sirius walked. "Think I haven't heard you boast about being the heir to the House of Black? Quite convenient, isn't it? You get the play the martyr of this family and yet you thrive when people get out of your way simply because of who you are."
"I didn't ask to be born into this family!" Sirius spat. "I didn't ask for any of this."
"It's very easy to complain about your privileged life when you are the heir to one of the most prestigious and richest families in the wizarding world. We have given you everything, Sirius. We have given you all the whims you have asked of us," Walburga snapped.
"But I wanted a family," Sirius cried out desperately. "I wanted us to be a family, not just a name."
"When will you understand that we are not a normal family, Sirius?" Walburga glared at him.
"You always talk about 'Blacks bows to no wizard,' does that include you?" Sirius retorted, his tone biting and lips twisted in a cruel snarl.
Walburga took a step back, as if wounded by her son's words, but quickly regained her composure. "Finish combing your hair. We're leaving in twenty minutes."
As she left the room, Sirius continued to stare at himself in the mirror, his reflection a mix of despair, frustration, and hurt. "You're like them; you'll always be like them," he thought bitterly.
"I want you to have this." Orion handed a small box to his oldest son.
Sirius was saying goodbye to his parents and his brother, making them look like the perfect family. In the distance, he had also seen his cousins Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Narcissa saying goodbye to his parents.
"It's the family ring," Orion explained as Sirius ran his fingertip over the family crest, "it has blood magic that will protect you in case someone wants to harm you. I had it custom made for you. Don't lose it."
Sirius did not miss the fact that his father said that 'he had it made for him' and not 'he and his mother had it made for him'. "Thank you, Father."
Since his mother barely looked at him, Sirius hugged his brother, "I'm going to miss you, Reggie."
"You can always write to me, that's why our parents bought you an eagle. So you could communicate," Regulus rolled his eyes, talking to Sirius as if he were a baby.
"I'm definitely going to miss you, you little shit," Sirius ruffled his brother's hair affectionately, "Looking for your dirty little secret? Hermione, I mean"
"Are you stupid? Do you want Father and Mother to find out that I'm friends with a half-blood?" Regulus looked over his shoulder, but his parents had gone to talk to his uncle Cynus, "and besides, Hermione is my friend; she's no dirty little secret."
"Reggie, I hate to break it to you, but Hermione is the very definition of a secret. Plus, I can't stress how weird the Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennett shit you two have going on is." Sirius teased his little brother, laughing at how flushed Regulus was.
"Now seriously, don't tell anyone that Hermione and I are friends, only his brother knows." Regulus looked both ways, careful that no one overheard the conversation.
"I'm Sirius, also already meeting the in-laws? Fuck, you move fast." Sirius moved his eyebrows suggestively.
"He did. And If I happen to marry Regulus, I can tell you right now that you would not be invited," a voice interrupted the Black brothers' conversation.
"My, my, my if it isn't Hermione Lupin in the flesh. It's nice to finally put a face to such a beautiful name." Sirius smiled cockily as he placed a kiss on Hermione's knuckles.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Regulus raised an eyebrow, surprised to see his friend.
"Dropping off my brother; he's starting his first year." Hermione nodded her head in the direction of the train.
"You have an older brother? What's his name? In case I see him on the train and say hello," Sirius was excited about the possibility of making a friend before arriving at Hogwarts.
"Remus. It won't be difficult for you to find him; he's dressed in an argyle sweater. He loves them, but he looks like an old man. But don't tell him I said this, or he'll kill me," she put on a toothy grin.
"No promises, princess," Sirius winked at his brother's friend.
"Pretty boy, go away; it's time for us big brains to have a conversation, and sadly you don't fit into either category." Hermione shooed him away, feigning a sad pout.
"I like you, Hermione Lupin," Sirius looked at Hermione scrutinizing her.
"I know," Hermione smiled arrogantly, much like Regulus. "and it will only keep growing."
"I've definitely fallen in love." Sirius sighed dramatically, as the future students boarded the train, "Nice to meet you, Hermione; write to me," he blew her a kiss to receive the middle finger in response.
James and Peter were engrossed in a game of Exploding Snap when the door to their compartment swung open, revealing a black-haired boy with gray eyes.
"Sirius Black, current family disappointment and future Gryffindor. Do you mind if I sit with you?" The boy plopped down next to Peter.
"I know you," James stated, extending a hand that Sirius happily shook, "James Potter, prankster, and future Gryffindor."
"My name is Peter," Peter smiled, "I also hope to get sorted into Gryffindor."
The door opened again, revealing a boy with light brown hair wearing an argyle sweater. 'This must be Remus, Hermione's brother,' Sirius thought.
"Remus, it's good to see you, mate! Stay with us." Sirius snatched the trunk from Remus and placed it on top of the compartment.
"Do I know you?" Remus raised an eyebrow, not recalling seeing the dark-haired boy anywhere.
"Nope. Sirius Black, nice to meet you." Remus opened his eyes in recognition of the last name. Sirius was Regulus's brother, his sister's friend.
The train ride was an exciting and bustling experience for Peter, James, Remus, and Sirius. The Hogwarts Express was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional hoot from the owls. The compartment that the four friends had chosen was cozy, with the rhythmic clatter of the train providing a soothing background noise.
The train eventually pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and the students disembarked, ready to begin their magical journey at Hogwarts. The group made their way to the boats that would take them across the Black Lake to the castle. The sight of Hogwarts illuminated against the night sky left them awestruck.
Arriving at the castle, they joined the other first-year students in the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. The anticipation was palpable as the Sorting Hat sang its traditional song. Peter, James, Remus, and Sirius exchanged excited glances, wondering which of the four houses they would be sorted into although silently praying for by one, they stepped forward as their names were called.
Sirius Black, his name echoing through the Great Hall, walked confidently to the stool as Professor McGonagall called him. He sat down with an air of assurance, ready to prove that he was different from the rest of his family. However, as he settled onto the stool, a small voice whispered directly into his mind.
"Ahhh. Another Black. I think it's clear where I should put you," the Sorting Hat murmured.
"I'm a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. I'm not like my family," Sirius thought defiantly.
The Sorting Hat let out a mocking laugh, a sound that resonated in Sirius's mind. "A Gryffindor, huh? What makes you think that?"
"I am chivalrous by nature, I help other people, and I'm brave," Sirius listed, his brow furrowing in determination.
"But you're also ambitious, cunning, and resourceful, right? After all, you're a Black," the Hat pointed out, probing into the complexities of his character.
"In Slytherin, there's dark wizards. I'm not a dark wizard," Sirius asserted, frustration beginning to seep into his thoughts.
"There's that haughtiness and arrogance. Do you really believe that prejudices only go in one direction?" The Sorting Hat's voice took on a tone reminiscent of Sirius's father.
"I... I don't understand," Sirius hesitated, feeling the weight of the Hat's scrutiny.
"You are not a Gryffindor, Sirius Black," the Hat declared, its words cutting through his expectations.
"I thought you took people's personal preferences into account," he hissed angrily.
"But you, Sirius Black, are anything but a Gryffindor. You say you're brave, but in reality, you're a coward," mocked the Hat, its words like a verbal assault.
"I'm not a fucking coward," Sirius spat back, his frustration boiling over.
"You're arrogant but weak. You're a Black and yet you crumble under your own. What will you do when things get difficult? Run away? Will you leave your brother behind in that house you oh so despise? That's not being brave, that's being a coward. You say you're loyal, but loyalty towards your family is conspicuous by its absence. You love being a Black but not what it entails, right? You say you love helping people but you've never had to lift a finger in your life. You are anything but a Gryffindor," the Hat continued, each word a piercing jab to Sirius's heart.
Sirius remained silent. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the Sorting Hat made its decision.
"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, and the Great Hall erupted into applause and cries of astonishment. Yet, Sirius heard none of it. The Hat's words echoed in his head over and over, "You're anything but a Gryffindor."
Quickly, Remus, Peter, and James joined the Gryffindor table, engaging in excited conversation. But for Sirius, it was all a blur of muffled sounds. His seat faced the Slytherin table, where his cousins sat. The three of them looked at him with a mix of amazement, curiosity, and mild disappointment. Sirius felt like he was on the verge of vomiting.
"Where are you going?" James asked, tilting his head in confusion.
"I'm going to our dorm," Sirius replied abruptly, needing some space.
"We don't know where our dorm is yet." James grabbed Sirius's arm, attempting to prevent him from leaving.
Sirius jerked his arm away, shocking his three friends with his sudden intensity. "I need some fucking air. Leave me alone."
James mumbled an apology, but Sirius didn't register the words. He ran out of the Great Hall, hastily untying the knot of his tie. It felt like an iron vice; he felt like he was drowning.
Collapsing to his knees in defeat, he screamed in frustration, the sound echoing over the Black Lake. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pounded his fists against the ground. Each impact felt like a punishing blow, the Sorting Hat's words haunting him: "You're a coward," "You're weak," "You're a hypocrite," "You're anything but a Gryffindor."
Breathing heavily, Sirius examined his battered hands. Knuckles bleeding, he noticed the Black family ring on his right pinky finger, reflecting in the moonlight. It was the same ring his father had given him that morning. A bitter taste rose in Sirius's throat, fueling his surge of frustration as he crumbled under the weight of self-loathing.
Finally straightening up, weakness clinging to him like a second skin, Sirius met his own gaze in the water. The reflection stared back, a fractured version of himself, desperately searching for some kind of redemption and finding none. "You're a Black, behave like it," he thought resentfully.
"We didn't see you in the dorms yesterday," James' hazel eyes narrowed watching as Sirius sat down next to him.
"I'm sorry," Sirius muttered, his bruised hand reaching for a piece of toast when Remus's voice stopped him. "What happened to your hand?"
Annoyed by a lack of sleep, he spat, "Do you see me wondering about your scars, Remus? Then mind your own fucking business."
"Apologize," James' voice boomed, a reminiscent of his father
"Who do you think you are? My mother?" Sirius let out a hollow laugh.
"The boys and I were worried about you last night, I don't think that's the way to talk to people who care about you." James crossed his arms, looking intently at Sirius.
"Maybe you should care a little less about me." Sirius mockingly imitated James.
"Now I understand why she prefers your brother." Remus laughed as he bit into a piece of toast.
"What the fuck did you just say to me? Say it again if you dare, come on," Sirius leaned over the table, glaring down at Remus.
"You heard me, pretty boy ." Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise; they both knew who Remus was referring to.
Sirius was going to speak but was interrupted by hundreds of owls that flew over the Great Hall, dropping copies of the Daily Prophet and several packages. He also saw how his three friends received letters of congratulations for their Sorting, like many first-year students, and yet he received nothing.
To be honest, he expected a Howler from his mother, yelling at him and telling him what a disgrace he was for his family and that he was no longer her son. He hoped to burn it with his wand, giving the entire school the image of a rebellious heir who didn't give a shit what his mother told him. He could handle that; her mother's insults didn't affect him, but at least they showed Sirius that he still mattered. But surrounded by his friends receiving congratulations from their respective parents, he felt hurt. His mother had not even bothered to send a Howler. For the first time in eleven years, he truly felt that his mother did not love him, that she didn't consider him worthy of even receiving her hateful words.
"Read," Remus handed him a letter, breaking him out of his reverie.
"What's this? The letter is addressed to you." Sirius frowned, scanning the contents.
"It's a letter from Hermione. Read the last paragraph." Remus rolled his eyes.
Sirius's eyes fell straight to the bottom of the letter, looking at Hermione's handwriting.
Congratulations, pretty boy. Now you're a big, loud, bad lion. Sirius laughed, imagining Remus' sister saying it to her face. Turn the pain you feel into power. Family, Duty, Honor it all comes down to you, Sirius. You're a Black, embrace it, and the gods will kneel before you or burn it all for all I care, but make sure you're the one making the rules. P.S. Reggie also sends his congratulations, Simba."
"Happy now?" Remus raised an eyebrow, watching as Sirius let out a chuckle.
"Your sister is coming to Hogwarts next year, isn't she?" Remus bobbed his head, confused. "I am so marrying her one day," Sirius smirked.