Sirius could remember being happy. He knew that. There were times when things were good. Before Hogwarts. He remembered loving when he got to leave the house. He could pretend for a while that he was okay with everything in his life. He could pretend that he was a stupid boy and not a horridly observant one.
He was talented at magic, the heir to the Black fortune, and a bloody charming git if he tried. All at the ripe age of 11.
Sirius had his brother if things got bad, and by ‘things’ he obviously meant his parents. Sirius tried to fit in, to be a good, proper heir, but he the urge to be something else, something better was always in his mind. He could never really rid himself of it.
His letter to Hogwarts was the best thing he ever thought could happen to him, watching his cousins go off and return more grown and stronger gave him a warm feeling and hope for himself. He knew he was destined for more than the path his parents had designed. He knew that good things would happen at Hogwarts. Really good things.
So when the train at King’s Cross finally arrived, he was almost shaking with anticipation and pure joy. He had specifically washed his perfect black waves that morning, worn his best clothes (in other words, his coolest clothes), and packed and repacked all of his things. Twice.
He boarded the train and found himself standing at the door of an almost empty apartment. The only person in there, a thin, scowling boy with a horrid shorn haircut was curled against the wall. Sirius felt a draw to go in, and Merlin, he couldn’t seem to say no to his gut.
He opened the door, scanning the boy and sitting across from him. “I’m Sirius Black.” He whispered, but Sirius could never really ‘whisper’. He had a demanding presence, and his voice reflected that.
The boy looked up at him, his brows furrowed with what Sirius assumed to be annoyance, or anger. “Remus Lupin.” He said quietly, his voice didn’t match his hostile look at all. Sirius almost smiled.
Remus Lupin was thin, but he had a strong look to him. His eyes were deep brown and sad, he had known bad things. When Remus’ jaw rose slightly to rest against the window more comfortably, Sirius thought he saw a silver scar.
It was better not to ask, better to pretend he hadn’t seen it at all.
The door slid open again to reveal a wild looking boy with circular spectacles resting on his nose and followed by a nervous blond boy. They stood for a second before the boy lit up, “Can we sit here? I’m James Potter-“ He seemed to realize the smaller boy wouldn’t introduce himself “-and this is Peter Pettigrew.”
Sirius remembered his father’s talk about the Potter’s. ‘A disgrace to the Sacred 28. Might as well be mudbloods.’ A satisfied smile crept along his lips, “Nobody’s stopping you.”
James Potter was eclectic. His brown eyes swirled with determination and excitement. His hair, a deep black, stuck up in every single direction. His energy seemed almost contagious, Sirius found himself on edge as well, waiting for the next thing he’d say.
His less interesting friend, Pettigrew was looking between them, his eyes rimmed red. He probably cried when he had to leave his parents. Sirius didn’t find his straw-colored hair or neutral brown eyes of any importance. If Sirius was being kind, he just seemed to exist there. But Sirius was known for being quite judgy, the boy hadn’t even spoken yet.
Remus, the boy from earlier, was watching them skeptically, Sirius recognized a hint of fear in his eyes. James luckily began talking, his presence just as demanding as Sirius’. “So do you know what houses you might be in? I’ve been interested in Gryffindor, myself.”
Sirius replied offhandedly, “Most likely Slytherin, knowing my family.” James nodded quickly, “I recognize you. Sirius Black, right?” Sirius nodded, “I am.” James’ gaze just barely turned, and Sirius missed the flicker of emotion before he smiled, his kind face erasing any hint of emotion that was there before.
James’ gaze landed on Remus now, “And you? I believe we haven’t met.” Remus, possibly not used to so much attention from what Sirius deduced, tensed slightly, “Remus Lupin…”
His voice was tense, quick, as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of the words. Sirius couldn’t quite tell, because Remus had only said his name thus far, but he noticed a bit of an accent. Most likely muggleborn. But Sirius didn’t think muggle parents were cruel enough to name their kid Remus. So possibly half-blood? But Remus also seemed so confused about James’ house conversations…
When the train arrived at school, he was all too happy to stick with bright-spirited James, quiet Remus, and nervous Pettigrew. Better them than Narcissa and Bellatrix.
Sirius was pushed to the front of the sorting hat line and his nerves all bubbled to the surface as he trudged up to the stool. He sat and his knuckles gripped the stool, turning slightly white. He felt sweat gathering on his temple as Narcissa and Bellatrix looked on from the Slytherin table, a space already saved for him. He felt as if he could be ill.
He was a Black. It was the common order of things. He would take his spot at the Slytherin table and be the proper heir that he was always meant to be. This beginning of a friendship with Potter, Pettigrew, and especially maybe-muggleborn Remus could be forgotten. Everything would be how it was supposed to be. He couldn’t fail.
“Gryffindor!”
Sirius felt his stomach twist inside-out. He could feel his eyes widening as he mumbled, “…what?” The only thing he could actually say. It was dead silent in the Great Hall. He was a Black, he was a BLACK, for Merlin’s sake. This was a mistake. Every Black had been Slytherin for over 500 years. This was a mistake.
“what?” He repeated, a little less shaky. McGonagall gently ushered him towards the Gryffindor table offering a small smile of what he assumed was encouragement. He almost fell on the way there, he was so sick. James, Remus, and Peter followed suit, all being sorted into Gryffindor. James looked thrilled. Sirius didn’t eat at the feast, he felt his organs straining against his ribs, threatening to tumble out. He could feel each expansion and contraction of his lungs.
The room was nice enough, he supposed. He barely registered anything that any of them said on the way there. Obviously the other 3 were paired to the same room, seemed as though they were to be friends. Everything was dull in Sirius’ mind as he left the bathroom and crawled under his sheets, he assumed he was white as the sheets themselves.
Remus had taken the one nearest the left side, Sirius had elected to go between him and James, and Peter got the one closest to the bathroom.
James had talked to Peter for a bit before getting in bed himself, and Sirius had watched Remus study the elaborate bed. Attempting to enjoy the small sigh of relief the boy exhaled as he sunk into the soft mattress.
Everyone shut their curtains and Sirius was alone with his swirling, spinning thoughts. He was miserable. The last thing he thought before his eyes closed was: “My mother is going to kill me.”