The howler
The Gryffindor dormitory was still unfamiliar to Sirius.
The four-poster bed, the warm glow of the morning light filtering through the curtains, the steady breathing of the other boys, it was all so different from home. James was already awake, of course. He was rummaging through his trunk, his glasses askew and his hair sticking up in every possible direction. “Morning!” he greeted cheerfully.
“You sleep like a rock, you know. I was up at the crack of dawn, ready for adventure, and you, out cold.”
Sirius smirked. “Had to recover from the trauma of being forced into your company.”
James gasped in mock offense. “I am a delight, Black.”
Across the room, Peter was struggling to tie his shoelaces, his round face scrunched up in concentration. “We don’t even have classes today, do we?” he asked uncertainly.
Remus, who had been quietly reading in bed, glanced up.
“No classes,” Remus confirmed.
Sirius was about to make some snarky remark when a sudden, sharp sound rang through the dormitory.
A deep, terrible voice, shrieking his name.
“SIRIUS ORION BLACK!”
The blood drained from Sirius’s face. A cold dread settled in his stomach.
Before he could react, a scarlet envelope shot through the air and landed on his bed. It twitched like a living thing, hissing and curling at the edges. The other boys backed away, eyes wide.
“You... what did you do?” Peter asked nervously.
Sirius exhaled, forcing his face into an easy, unconcerned grin. “I'm a Gryffindor.”
“What?” James looked downright offended. “That’s it? That’s why they sent a Howler?”
Sirius gave a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, just wait.”
And then it exploded.
His mother’s voice cold, sharp, venomous, filled the dormitory.
“You shame us! A BLACK in Gryffindor? How dare you disgrace our noble house? You are NO son of mine! You will NOT return home if you continue this foolishness, do you hear me? You will bring RUIN upon yourself, consorting with Mudbloods and traitors! Have you NO loyalty, NO pride?”
The voice went on, each word laced with rage and disgust, his father’s deeper tone joining in. The air in the dormitory seemed to shrink. The Howler spit out words like blood traitor, humiliation, filth, until, finally, it tore itself apart in a burst of smoke and ash. Sirius found it strange that it wasnt in french, but he guessed his mother wanted others to hear it. She wanted to humiliate him.
Silence.
The other boys stared at him. Even James, usually full of easy confidence, looked lost for words. Peter was visibly nervous, and Remus, Remus just watched, his expression unreadable.
Sirius could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, his skin burning with something close to shame. But he would not show it. So he grinned. Stretched his arms over his head like he’d just finished a particularly boring conversation. “Well, that was dramatic.”
James frowned. “But... why? Just because you got Sorted into Gryffindor?”
Sirius shrugged. “They expected me to be in Slytherin. Like every other Black in existence. But I suppose I ruined the family legacy.” He said it lightly, as if it didn’t matter. As if the words hadn’t cut deep.
Peter shifted uncomfortably. “They sounded… really angry.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “They’re always angry.”
But the others weren’t laughing.
Peter spoke hesitantly. “That was really awful, Sirius.”
Remus, who had been silent the longest, finally spoke. “You don’t deserve that.”
They didn’t get it. Not really. They didn’t understand what it meant to be a Black. The weight of it. The expectations. But they cared.
He hadn’t expected that.
Then he grinned. “Now, are we going to sit around all day talking about my awful family, or are we going to explore this castle? I hear Filch has a whole list of places we’re not allowed to go. Seems like an excellent starting point.”
James immediately perked up.
“Now that’s what I like to hear!”
Peter still looked unsure, but he nodded, and even Remus sighed, closing his book with a quiet smirk.
Sirius stretched one last time before jumping off his bed.