Standing shoulder to shoulder with the other first-years, Remus had to remind himself that there were still four days until the next full moon. They were ranged in a line in the center of the Great Hall. What seemed like hundreds of candles hung suspended in midair, filling the massive space with a soft, golden light. They illuminated the four long house tables, with their clusters of black-clad students, each sporting a pointed hat for the opening ceremonies. For now, the golden platters and goblets before them were empty. There would be no feast until the sorting concluded.

Professor McGonagall stood before them, holding a patched and frayed hat in one hand while she read from a list of names. She had introduced herself to the first-years as the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and if her stern appearance was anything to go by, she seemed well suited to the job. Remus judged her to be about fifty years old, though the thick, dark hair she wore in a tight twist gave her a more youthful appearance than the lines around her mouth and eyes would suggest.

"Fawley, Leander… Ferlet, Charles… Friedman, Milo…"

One by one, Remus watched as nervous students approached the wooden stool beside Professor McGonagall. The hat was then placed atop their head, and after a few seconds, a seam near the hat's brim would split open, and a loud voice called out the house to which each student then belonged.

"SLYTHERIN!" it shouted, compelling little Ganders, Greta toward a table decked in silver and green, only to send her twin brother to Ravenclaw a moment later.

It wasn't easy to wait patiently among his peers. Between his frayed nerves, his anxiety over attending school for the first time, and the tell-tale nausea that always assaulted him in the days leading up to the full moon, Remus was ready to faint. But he had survived the train ride and the voyage across the Black Lake. He could survive this, too.

Focusing on keeping his face a perfect mask of indifference, he stared enviously at each student who went before him, longing for the moment when this ritual would be over, and he could sink into the obscurity of the crowd.

"Li, Min… Longbottom, Frank… Lupin, Remus…"

At last, his turn had arrived. He forced one foot in front of the other, ready to take his place upon the stool. Once settled, Professor McGonagall dropped the rather large, shabby hat onto his head, where it fell over his eyes. In the blessed darkness that enveloped him, Remus waited.

"Hm… An interesting combination…" murmured a voice in his ear.

He flinched. His father hadn't warned him about this when he had described the sorting ceremony.

"You're a bright lad, I can see that here… But also devoted and hardworking and… Ah, yes… You have a secret, don't you? And it will take cunning if you want to keep it…"

For a moment, Remus feared that the voice's deliberation could be heard by the entire school. Perhaps the seam would split, and instead of naming a house, the hat would simply shout his secret for all to hear. He'd be exposed. But if that happened, surely he would be sent home again. No parent would want their child going to school with a creature like him…

"It isn't my job to share your secrets, child…" said the same voice in his ear, "I leave that to you, in time… The question is merely, where to put you?"

So the hat could hear what he was thinking. Remus took a moment to consider, then thought to himself, It doesn't matter.

"Doesn't matter?" the hat repeated in an almost mocking tone.

Remus's fingers curled around the edge of the stool. Conscious of the eyes that must be staring at him on the other side of the hat's dark interior, he thought hard.

Send me home if you can't make up your mind. I don't belong here. It's safer for everyone if they keep away from me.

"A truly selfless response…" murmured the hat, "Such chivalry should not be wasted… "

Remus gripped the edges of the stool even tighter. The hat was making fun of him! He wanted to tear the thing from his head, but before he could think of any cutting retort to its teasing remarks, he heard the voice again, only not in his head, but loud enough for the whole hall to hear.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A table resting under scarlet and gold banners erupted into applause as the hat was removed from Remus's head. He spotted Lily Evans in the crowd, beaming as she motioned to an empty seat by her side. He walked toward her automatically, but he could not return her smile. Though he had insisted that his house didn't matter, he couldn't help but feel that the Sorting Hat had made a mistake. He didn't belong in Gryffindor. He wasn't chivalrous or brave. He wasn't anything special at all.

Shuffling toward the end of the long table, he reluctantly sank into the seat offered by Evans. Her attitude was a little too familiar for Remus's liking, and yet it was a relief to sit down. He was quickly forgotten as everyone's attention turned to Oakwood, Barbara, who had nearly tripped on her way toward the stool.

There was one student among them who didn't seem to be paying attention to the ceremony at all. Directly across from Remus sat a handsome boy with jet black hair. He had been the first boy in their year sorted into Gryffindor, but Remus could not remember his name. He hadn't seemed to notice that anyone was sitting in front of him. He was slouched in his seat, a vacant expression on his face, as if stunned to find himself there.

Wondering if the boy was as disappointed in his sorting as he was himself, Remus turned his attention toward the dwindling line of students still waiting for their turn on the stool.

"Pettigrew, Peter…" announced Professor McGonagall, and a stout boy stumbled his way forward. Silence swept the hall as the hat was placed on Pettigrew's head, and the seconds ticked by. No name was called. Remus couldn't be sure, but it seemed to be taking longer to sort Pettigrew than it had for any other student, himself included.

"A hatstall, is it?" remarked an older student from further down their table, as she craned her neck to get a better look at the child who had held up the ceremony.

Although the term was new to Remus, he could guess what it meant. He pitied poor Pettigrew as the seconds turned into a full minute, then two, and still no murmur from the Sorting Hat. He couldn't imagine being under the scrutiny of the entire school for so long. Pettigrew's knees began to knock together as he waited. Remus was sure the boy could hear that same quiet voice in his ear. He wondered what it was whispering to him…

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat finally cried, interrupting the little conversations that had broken out across the hall. It seemed that no one was prepared this time. Pettigrew was met with only a surprised smattering of applause as he darted off the stool, the smile on his face one of relief rather than pleasure.

"Thank Merlin that's over!" he sighed loudly, falling into one of the open spaces across from Remus. "I thought it'd never let me go!"

"Shut it," replied the handsome, black-haired boy next to him. He had broken out of his reverie and was now staring with rapt attention at another boy who had just approached the Sorting Hat. Like him, this boy had hair as black as pitch, though his was shorter and far more messy. He sat himself down with a confident smile. The hat barely skimmed the top of his untidy hair before it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Potter, James grinned in response to the applause he received from his peers, and approached their table with a smooth, easy stride. The handsome boy moved aside to give him more space, crowding little Pettigrew into his neighbor in the process.

"No surprises there, eh?" said Potter with a cheeky grin, "Congratulations on disgracing the family name, Black."

The other boy, Black by name, seemed cheered by his light raillery. He relaxed his shoulders, returning Potter's smile as he said with mock concern, "Mother will be so disappointed. What will the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black have to say about this?"

"Disgraceful…" Potter said, shaking his head sadly.

Remus tried to ignore them, but there was something in their smiles and playful conversation that proved intriguing to one who had grown up as alone and friendless as him. It was evident that Pettigrew felt the same, for he had leaned toward the pair, whispering something about the hatstall as he congratulated Potter on his speedy sorting.

Remus might have indulged in their conversation a bit longer, but at that moment, he felt a hand gripping the sleeve of his robe. Evans had taken a hold of him, but it was not Remus who arrested her attention. She was gazing fixedly at Professor McGonagall, who had just called "Snape, Severus" forward.

She probably hadn't meant to grasp onto Remus as she did, but it was clear from her intent expression that she was deeply invested in the fate of her friend. Remus could see the word "Gryffindor" being formed repeatedly on her lips, a silent prayer that her companion would soon join her at their table.

Her hopes were in vain. With nearly the same speed that it had sorted Potter, the hat cried out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Snape looked grim, though resigned as he shuffled toward the table of silver and green. Evans breathed a sigh of disappointment as she released Remus's sleeve from her grasp. As he suspected, she was unconscious of having reached for him in her anxiety.

Her sigh did not go unnoticed by the trio of boys sitting across from them. Black nudged Potter with a smirk, nodding significantly at Evans. Potter seemed to understand him, for he promptly announced, "I wouldn't worry about him. He'll be happier with his own kind, won't he?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Evans snapped.

Lupin gazed at her in surprise. He hadn't heard Evans use such a harsh tone on the train, and she hadn't struck him as the type of person to have a short temper. Potter, however, seemed unfazed by her attitude. He merely shrugged as he replied, "It's just what I told you before. You're better off staying away from guys like him."

"I'll decide for myself who I spend time with, thank you very much," Evans said with a haughty toss of her auburn hair.

Potter shrugged again, then turned back to Black, who had just whispered something into his ear. The pair giggled, while Pettigrew petulantly begged to be let in on the joke. Evans merely glared at them a moment longer before she glanced at Remus, rolled her eyes, and simply said, "Honestly, some people are so arrogant…"

Evidently, the trio were the very same "intolerable" boys that Evans and Snape had encountered during their ride on the Hogwarts Express. As the sorting ceremony came to a close and the empty golden plates before them blossomed magically into a bountiful feast, Remus had an opportunity to study his new housemates himself. Potter had a tendency to express himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, to be sure. Black seemed to care for no one else but Potter, scorning anyone else who dared to address him. Pettigrew was merely eager for attention and happy to make new friends. Other than this, Remus could detect no particularly distressing qualities, at least none to invoke such ire from the likes of Evans.

Twice during their meal, he was on the point of questioning Evans about what had happened on the train. But Evans had fallen into conversation with two girls on her other side. He didn't want to interrupt, and after a moment of quiet reflection, he decided it was for the best. Curious though he was, drawing Evans into a discussion of their housemates bordered too close to friendliness. He could form his own opinions about the trio in time.

In fact, he would have plenty of opportunities to observe them. Once the evening feast had concluded and he had followed a prefect to the hidden entrance of Gryffindor tower, Remus discovered that Potter, Black, and Pettigrew were to be his roommates.

They took no notice of him, though this was preferred. Potter and Sirius were either old friends, or the sort of people to make friends quickly. They remained engrossed in their own conversation, heedless of anyone else but Pettigrew, who they permitted to cling to them as close as feathers on a hippogriff.

Remus continued on, outstripping the trio as he preceded them up the stairs to their dormitory. He had hoped for a moment of peace and quiet reflection, but was disappointed to find that he was not the first to arrive. Another boy with curly brown hair sat on the edge of one of the four-poster beds, a trunk laying open before him as he sorted through his things. He stood up as Remus entered the room, a welcoming smile on his face as he extended his hand.

"Looks like we'll be sharing a room," he said in a strong voice. "Nice to meet you. I'm Frank Longbottom."

Remus stared at the hand that had been thrust toward him, then turned away without accepting it. Longbottom seemed slightly put out by Remus's rebuff, but before he could say a word, they were joined by the rest of their roommates. Potter and Sirius were having a riotous debate about which Quidditch team was the best in the league, while Pettigrew seemed at pains to agree with both of them at the same time. Longbottom was called on for his opinion, but as took up Black's side, Pettigrew quickly changed his stance. He swore up and down that Potter's preference was surely the favored team.

"Lupin! We need a tie-breaker!" called Potter across the room. "Who do you think is better, the Chudley Cannons, or Puddlemere United?"

The silvery light of the waxing moon filtered through the narrow dormitory windows, illuminating the scene and forming a stark reminder of the risk Remus was taking by sharing such a small, cramped room with four other boys.

"I don't like quidditch," he said flatly. And with that, he crawled into bed, drawing the scarlet curtains that hung around it closed with a snap.