Fractured Loyalities

The air in the hall was thick with tension, a buzzing energy that made Remus’ skin prickle. The room itself was vast and cold, its walls made of stark grey stone that stretched upward toward a ceiling so high it seemed to disappear into shadows. Harsh lights beamed down from metal fixtures above, casting sharp reflections off the metallic bowls lined neatly in the center of the stage, each representing one of the five factions. The atmosphere was heavy, the silence that enveloped the crowd made his head buzz.

Rows of faction members lined the edges of the room, separated by their colors—bright reds and yellows of  Amity, black and white for Candor, the cool blues of Erudite, grey of Abnegation, and the wild mix of black and tattoos for Dauntless. The distinct differences between them all made the room feel fractured, each group staring at the others as though sizing them up, wondering who would leave and who would return. Parents stood stiffly, arms at their sides or held tightly around one another, their expressions a mix of pride, worry, and grief. The Abnegation parents, in particular, seemed burdened, their pale faces hidden under lowered eyes as they struggled to suppress their emotions.

Among them was Remus’ own mother, her face composed but her lips pressed into a thin line, as if holding back a thousand words she wasn’t allowed to say. She stood still, blending in with the others in her simple grey clothes. She didn’t meet his gaze; she never did. Like the other Abnegation parents, she was stoic, her grief at the possibility of him leaving kept locked tightly behind the walls of their shared upbringing.

Remus shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the moment press harder on him. To his right, his closest friend in the world, Lily Evans, stood with her head bowed, her long, auburn hair braided neatly down her back. Even though she wore the simple grey clothes of Abnegation, there was a spark about her that couldn’t be muted by the faction’s strict, modest dress code. Her green eyes, so often bright with curiosity and warmth, were dim now, cast down as though she were trying to mirror the restrained demeanor of the other Abnegation members. But Remus knew better—he had grown up with her, watched her defy the cold rules of their upbringing time and again.

They had spent countless hours together in the corners of the grey houses, whispering about the future they both longed for, making plans to escape the suffocating selflessness of Abnegation. For years, they had both dreamed of Erudite, where knowledge and truth were valued above all. Lily had always been brilliant, sharper than anyone else in their age group, and Remus had admired that about her. She never complained about the sacrifices they were expected to make, but in quiet moments, she would talk about a life beyond the grey, one filled with possibilities and freedom. It had been their plan, the one they had shared in secret for so long: they would leave together, join Erudite, and never look back.

Now, standing beside her, Remus felt that plan like a lifeline in the chaos of the Choosing Ceremony. He could feel his own nerves buzzing under his skin, but the presence of Lily, her certainty, had always been a source of strength. She had been his closest confidant for as long as he could remember, the one person who understood him completely, who knew all his secrets—well, almost all. There were some things he still kept even from her.

He glanced at her, trying to catch her eye, but she remained focused on the floor. Still, he could sense the tension in her, the same turmoil that was gripping him. The shared dream they had built felt so fragile now, like it could shatter at any moment.

Around them, other familiar faces were scattered in the crowd. James Potter and Marlene McKinnon stood among the Amity group, their bright clothes and easy smiles a sharp contrast to the subdued, almost somber tone of the Abnegation crowd. James, with his wild hair and mischievous eyes, looked completely at ease, as if this were all just another adventure to him. Remus had always envied that about James—his ability to embrace the moment, to find joy and excitement in even the most serious situations. James had grown up in Amity, surrounded by laughter and warmth, and it showed in everything he did. Even now, his confidence radiated out into the room, calming and infectious.

Marlene, standing just behind James, exuded that same Amity charm, her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail as she chatted with the other members of her faction, flashing wide smiles and sending winks across the room. Her carefree attitude only heightened Remus’ awareness of how restrained he felt in comparison.

The sound of the overseer’s voice rang out, snapping Remus from his thoughts. The Choosing Ceremony had begun. 

Name after name called, each teenager stepping forward to make their choice. Remus tugged at the collar of his grey Abnegation robes, trying to calm his nerves as he stood in the crowded hall. The muted colors of Abnegation surrounded him, a sea of grey, blending in with his faction's values—selflessness, humility, and the relentless suppression of self. But today, everything would change. He wasn’t going to be like his parents, shackled by duty and denied the chance to think for himself.

His stomach churned, but he forced himself to focus. He had to stay calm. Erudite was the right choice—he had known it all his life. Beside him, Lily stood straight and tall. She didn’t seem nervous at all. But when her name was called, Remus noticed a flicker of something in her expression.

“Lily Evans,” the overseer announced, and Lily stepped forward, her posture strong and sure as she walked to the center of the room.

Remus held his breath. He watched her move toward the bowls, toward their future. She had to choose Erudite—this was their plan. They had always planned it together.

But then, to his horror, she kept walking. Right past the clear glass bowl of Erudite.

Remus’s heart pounded as Lily strode directly to the burning coals of Dauntless. With a swift motion, she cut her hand and let her blood drip onto the hot stones.

The room erupted in cheers. The Dauntless faction roared with approval, their black-clad members shouting and clapping. The sound echoed through the hall, but all Remus could hear was the rush of blood in his ears. His world tilted on its axis as Lily turned, her face flushed with emotion, and mouthed two words that cut through him like a blade.

"I’m sorry."

He froze, his mind racing. Why would she do this? They had a plan—Erudite was the future they had built together. She couldn’t just… abandon him like this.

Before he had time to process what had happened, the overseer called his name.

“Remus Lupin.”

Remus’s legs felt heavy as he moved toward the center of the room. His heart thundered in his chest, but he forced himself to focus. Lily’s choice wasn’t his. He had to stick to the plan, to the dream they had shared for so long.

Without hesitation, Remus picked up the knife, cut his hand, and held it over the glass bowl of Erudite. His blood dripped into the clear liquid, dissolving instantly.

It was done.

* * *

Standing amidst the Candor teenagers, Mary Macdonald felt like an imposter. Dressed in the sharp, unforgiving black and white of her faction, she couldn’t help but feel as though the colors themselves were mocking her. Everything about Candor was about being honest, open, and bluntly transparent. Their harsh truth was supposed to be a virtue, but for Mary, it had always felt like a cage.

For as long as she could remember, she had been told that truth was everything. Candor valued truth above all else—lies were the worst form of betrayal, and anyone caught in a web of dishonesty was shamed, cast out, or worse. For some, it brought a kind of freedom. They could speak their minds, say whatever they wanted, and claim the moral high ground simply because it was the truth. But to Mary, that kind of bluntness felt cruel. There was no room for tact, for kindness, or even the smallest bit of consideration for people’s feelings. It was exhausting.

Mary had learned early on that Candor’s idea of honesty didn’t suit her. She wasn’t like the others who thrived in the constant confrontations, the debates where personal attacks were veiled as "just being truthful." She hated how her peers could tear each other apart with a few words and shrug it off because it was “just the truth.” It wasn’t just their words that stung; it was the ease with which they exposed their innermost thoughts and feelings to the world, baring their souls with reckless abandon. It felt like every secret, every insecurity she had, was constantly at risk of being dragged into the open.

Worse still, her family was a model of Candor values. Her parents took pride in their transparency, constantly scrutinizing every action and emotion under the guise of honesty. Dinner conversations at home often turned into interrogations—her parents asking probing questions that left no room for half-truths or evasions. There was no privacy in Candor. The truth was always out there, hanging over her head, waiting to be dissected by everyone around her. It suffocated her.

But what hurt the most was how her own thoughts betrayed her. Mary wasn’t always truthful, at least not with herself. She longed to fit in, to find her place within the faction she was born into, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was different. She didn’t enjoy the brutal honesty, didn’t find satisfaction in the black-and-white view of the world Candor insisted upon. She wanted more—more nuance, more understanding, more compassion.

Her family couldn’t see it. They thought she was just struggling to adjust, that she’d eventually grow into her Candor skin. But Mary knew better. She had known for a long time that she didn’t belong here. The constant pressure to expose every thought and feeling to the light, to always choose truth over empathy, had worn her down. Candor didn’t feel like home. It never had.

As she stood there, surrounded by her peers, all of whom seemed so certain of who they were, Mary felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her chest. Today, she had a choice—a real choice for the first time in her life. She could leave. She could walk away from Candor and all the suffocating expectations that came with it. But the idea of leaving terrified her as much as it excited her. What if she made the wrong decision? What if she didn’t belong anywhere?

Next to her, Peter Pettigrew, a boy she knew but had never really been friends with, was shifting nervously from foot to foot. Peter looked just as out of place as she felt, his hands trembling slightly as he stared at the stage. They had grown up together, attended the same classes and shared the same lessons in truth and integrity, but he had always seemed distant. Quiet. Nervous. While the other Candor kids thrived in their openness, Peter always seemed like he had something to hide, like he was uncomfortable with the constant exposure that came with their faction’s way of life.

Mary found herself wondering what choice Peter would make. He didn’t look like someone who wanted to stay in Candor, but he didn’t have the confidence of someone who was ready to leave either. In that way, they were similar—both caught in the space between belonging and running away.

The Ceremony had been dragging on, and the tension in the room was palpable. The air felt thick with anticipation as the names were called, one after the other. Each teenager stepped forward, made their choice, and sealed their fate with a drop of blood in one of the faction bowls. Some choices were met with cheers, others with gasps or murmurs of disapproval, but each one was final. Irrevocable.

Mary’s name would be called soon. She could feel it coming, her heart pounding harder with each passing minute. But she wasn’t ready—not yet. She kept her gaze down, trying to calm herself, but the restless murmurs and occasional cheers did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest. She glanced around the room, taking in the faces of the other factions. Amity, warm and inviting. Abnegation, so controlled and distant. Erudite, calculating and sharp. Dauntless, wild and reckless. All of them were so different, each offering its own version of the future.

She wanted out of Candor—she knew that much. But where would she go? Where would she belong?

As the next name was called, the hall went dead silent. Mary looked up just as Sirius Black—the infamous heir to one of the most powerful families in Erudite—began his walk to the stage. It was as if time slowed, every pair of eyes in the room following his every move. He was a striking figure, tall and confident, his black hair falling in disheveled waves that gave him an air of defiance. He walked with a purpose, every step steady and unwavering, as though he had known for years what he was about to do.

Mary had heard of him, of course—everyone had. Sirius Black was a name that carried weight. His family was practically royalty in Erudite, known for their intelligence, influence, and cold ruthlessness. His parents had raised him and his younger brother, Regulus, to be the perfect heirs, molded from birth to uphold the values of their faction. But Sirius was different. Mary had seen him around, heard the whispered stories of his rebellion, how he rejected the rigid expectations of his family. But to actually see him now, walking toward the stage with that air of defiance—it was something else entirely.

Sirius reached the center of the stage, standing tall in the spotlight. His expression was hard to read, but there was a glint of something dangerous in his grey eyes. Without hesitation, he grabbed the knife and sliced his palm. The blood dripped down his fingers, but Sirius didn’t even flinch. The entire room held its breath, waiting to see what he would do.

And then, without a single doubt, Sirius stepped past the Erudite bowl, completely ignoring the cold blue water that symbolized everything his family stood for. His hand hovered for only a brief moment before he let the blood fall into the Dauntless bowl, staining the black stones beneath it. The sound of the blood hitting the stones seemed louder than anything else in the room, like a thunderclap in the silence.

Mary's breath caught in her throat. The decision felt monumental, like a seismic shift in the room. But there was no cheering. No clapping. No one from Dauntless rose to welcome him—not yet. It was as if the room itself was holding its breath, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

From where she stood, Mary could see Regulus, sitting stiffly among the Erudites. His face was pale, his eyes wide with shock and horror. He shouted his brother’s name—"Sirius!"—but Sirius didn’t turn. Didn’t acknowledge him. The cry was sharp, almost desperate, but it was met with nothing but silence.

Sirius kept his head high, his face unreadable, as he walked off the stage. His steps were as confident as when he had approached, but there was a heavy finality in the way he ignored his brother’s call. It was like watching someone walk away from everything they had ever known, without a single glance back.

Mary’s gaze shifted to the Black family—his parents, sitting rigid among the Erudite elite. His father’s face was a mask of cold indifference, as though he refused to acknowledge what had just happened. But his mother, Walburga Black, was a different story. Her lips were pressed into a thin, furious line, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. She didn’t look at Sirius. She didn’t even glance in his direction. It was as though he had ceased to exist the moment his blood touched the Dauntless stones.

The silence in the room stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The weight of it pressed down on everyone, as though they were witnessing something far greater than just a faction choice. Sirius Black had defied everything—his family, his faction, the path that had been laid out for him since birth—and no one knew how to respond.

When he finally reached the Dauntless section, there were no cheers, no pats on the back. Even the Dauntless, known for their wild enthusiasm, seemed unsure how to react. A few of them clapped hesitantly, their applause awkward and uncertain. But Sirius didn’t seem to care. He stood tall, his face impassive, his eyes scanning the room as if daring anyone to say something. To challenge him.

Mary felt a strange mix of emotions watching him. Awe. Fear. And, somewhere deep down, a flicker of admiration. It took courage to walk away from everything like that, to reject the expectations that had been placed on you since birth. It was the kind of courage she wasn’t sure she had.

But Sirius Black had just shown everyone that it was possible.

As he took his seat among the Dauntless, ignoring the murmurs and whispers that followed him, the ceremony continued. The tension remained, but now there was an undercurrent of uncertainty. If someone like Sirius could defy everything, what else could happen today?

Mary's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the edges of her robes. If someone like Sirius could break away from the chains of his family, then maybe—just maybe—she could too.

* * *

James Potter stood frozen in place, watching in disbelief as Sirius Black walked with unwavering confidence toward the center of the stage. His stomach churned, and his heart hammered against his ribcage. He knew that Sirius had been struggling with his family’s suffocating expectations for years, but never—never—had he imagined this.

Sirius Black, choosing Dauntless.

It was as though the entire room was holding its breath. James had expected Sirius to at least put on a show of loyalty to his parents. But as Sirius’ blood hit the black stones of Dauntless, James felt the world shift beneath him. 

Sirius had just burned every bridge to his past, severed every tie that bound him to his family. No one in the room had expected it. No one had believed that Sirius would actually have the nerve to stand up to the Black legacy like that—not even James, who had spent countless nights sneaking out of Amity to meet Sirius under the stars. They had always talked about escaping, about choosing their own paths, but James never thought Sirius would go this far.

For a moment, James wasn’t sure if he wanted to cheer for Sirius or run after him. Sirius had always been like a brother to him. They had met at a neutral meeting place between factions when they were eleven, both of them too restless to be confined to their homes. Amity’s peaceful, quiet life had never been enough for James, and Erudite’s oppressive atmosphere had been suffocating Sirius for years. Together, they had created a bond, one that transcended faction lines.

But now… now Sirius had made a choice that James hadn’t even realized was a possibility.

Sirius’ defiance wasn’t just about rejecting his family. It was about throwing away the safety and certainty of Erudite in favor of the wild, unpredictable world of Dauntless. It was about embracing danger, chaos, and fear—and it terrified James more than he cared to admit. As Sirius took his place among the Dauntless, James caught his gaze, just for a moment. There was a flicker of something—something soft, something unspoken—but then Sirius looked away, his face impassive.

The crowd remained silent, too stunned to react. James had never felt such tension in a room before. The Black family had been publicly humiliated, and it was as if the entire world was holding its breath to see what would happen next.

James swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. His turn was coming soon, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. The future he had spent years imagining felt distant and hazy now. He’d always assumed he would choose Amity, stay with his family, keep the peace. It wasn’t that he hated Amity—he loved his parents and the life they had given him—but something about it felt… wrong.

Amity had been James’ home for his entire life. His parents were the epitome of kindness and compassion, living their lives in pursuit of harmony and peace. But James had always felt out of place there. He didn’t have the same serene temperament that his parents did, didn’t want to spend his life mediating arguments and tending gardens. He wanted more. He wanted excitement, adventure, something to set his blood on fire. 

But was Dauntless that something? Could he leave everything behind, like Sirius just had? Could he leave his parents, his home, the life he had known for sixteen years?

His name echoed in the hall, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"James Potter.”

His heart jumped into his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t move. All eyes were on him now, the weight of expectation pressing down on him like a thousand-pound weight. He took a deep breath and forced his legs to move. The walk to the center of the room felt like it took hours, each step heavier than the last. His hands were shaking as he approached the center. Sweat pricked at his forehead, and his heart thudded in his chest. This was it. The moment he had been dreading for weeks.

Behind him, he heard Marlene McKinnon’s voice, cheering him on. She was his childhood best friend, practically his sister, and she was the one person he couldn’t look at right now. He knew that if he turned, he would see his parents—and he wasn’t sure he could handle that. Leaving them, leaving Amity, felt like ripping away a part of himself. But he had to do it. Amity wasn’t his destiny. His head buzzed with doubt, a million questions swirling in his mind.

He didn’t feel ready. He didn’t feel prepared to make a choice that would change his life forever. He didn’t feel brave enough to walk the path that Sirius had just blazed, but he didn’t feel like he could stay where he was, either.

As he reached the center, the four bowls stood before him, each one representing a future he couldn’t fully imagine. Amity’s soil, where he had always thought he would end up, lay to his right, comforting in its familiarity. Erudite’s water, cold and calculating, stood next to it. Candor’s glass shimmered in the light, representing a life of honesty and transparency. And then there were the Dauntless stones, dark and unyielding, calling to him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

His hand trembled as he reached for the knife. He cut his palm, the sting sharp but distant compared to the overwhelming weight of the decision before him. Blood welled up, and he watched it, transfixed, as it began to drip from his hand.

He felt like time had slowed down, every second stretching out into an eternity. His gaze flickered to the Dauntless section, where Sirius sat, watching him with those unreadable grey eyes. He could see Lily Evans too, sitting among the Abnegation-born, her red hair vibrant against the grey of her clothes. She looked at him, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, James wondered what she was thinking. Did she know how lost he felt right now?

He turned back to the bowls, his hand hovering over the stones of Dauntless. This was it. The moment he had been dreading and anticipating for months. A part of him screamed to choose Amity, to stay with his family, to follow the path that had always seemed laid out for him. But another part of him—the part that had spent countless nights talking to Sirius about freedom and rebellion—was louder.

The blood dripped from his hand, and in one smooth motion, James let it fall into the Dauntless bowl.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but it felt distant, like it was happening to someone else. James forced a smile, but inside, he was shaking. Had he made the right choice? Was this what he truly wanted, or was he just following Sirius, like he always did? He wasn’t sure, and that uncertainty gnawed at him as he stepped down from the stage.

As he made his way to the Dauntless section, the cheers of his new faction ringing in his ears, James snuck a glance at his parents. His mother was crying, but she smiled at him through the tears. His father gave him a small, supportive nod, but there was a sadness in his eyes that James couldn’t shake.

His feet felt heavy as he took his seat among the Dauntless. Sirius was there, giving him a weak smile, but James couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. They were in this together now, but for the first time, James wasn’t sure he was ready for what lay ahead.

* * *

Remus watched as James joined Dauntless, his heart sinking deeper into his chest. James, Lily, Sirius—all of them had chosen the wild, dangerous path of Dauntless. Remus felt like a stranger in his own skin.

There was only one person left in the ceremony from Amity—Marlene McKinnon. She walked confidently to the center, her head held high, and chose Candor without a second thought.

The ceremony dragged on, Dauntless kids going up, choosing their family faction, and coming back down as if nothing had changed. Remus wondered what it must be like to be so certain of your place in the world. To belong.

He tried

The room was a sea of noise, punctuated by applause and murmurs as one by one, names were called, and decisions were made. Remus stood still, his eyes fixed on the stage but his thoughts miles away. He could still feel the weight of Lily’s whispered apology as she passed him by, moving toward the Dauntless bowl, away from everything they had planned. Away from him.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself. He had made his choice, spilling his blood into the Erudite bowl, knowing it was the right path for him. Erudite had always called to him—the pursuit of knowledge, the chance to break free from the grey silence of Abnegation. But now, watching his friends—his best friend—leave him behind, the certainty he once had was unraveling.

"Peter Pettigrew," the voice called, pulling Remus out of his thoughts.

Remus’ eyes followed Peter as the boy hesitantly walked to the center of the room. Peter wasn’t like James or Sirius—he didn’t have that confidence, that easy smile. His nerves were plain on his face as he fidgeted with his hands, glancing back toward the Candor crowd. Remus had never been close to Peter, but they had shared a few classes, exchanged polite nods in the hallways. He always seemed more comfortable fading into the background than standing in the spotlight.

Now, Peter was anything but comfortable. He looked like he might pass out as he stood before the bowls, the knife trembling in his hand. Remus felt a pang of sympathy for him. This moment—the choice—was monumental for everyone, but for someone like Peter, who always seemed to shrink in on himself, it must have been suffocating.

The room was deathly quiet as Peter’s hand hovered above the bowls. The Candor stones sat there, black and white, expectant. It seemed like a sure thing—Peter would go back to Candor, where truth and honesty ruled, where he had been raised. But Peter’s gaze kept flicking toward Dauntless, toward the crackling coals.

He cut his hand, wincing at the sight of his own blood. The air was thick with tension as Peter finally moved, his hand drifting away from Candor’s bowl and toward the flames of Dauntless.

The blood hit the coals with a hiss, vanishing into smoke.

Remus blinked in surprise. Dauntless? Peter had chosen Dauntless?

The Dauntless faction erupted into cheers, though Peter looked as though he might crumble under the weight of their noise. He stood there for a second, wide-eyed, before slinking off the stage to join his new faction, his shoulders hunched as if expecting someone to call him back.

Remus felt his brow furrow, watching Peter stumble his way to the Dauntless section. It didn’t make sense—Peter didn’t seem the type for Dauntless, the faction of bravery and recklessness. Peter was cautious, uncertain. What was he thinking?

But then, Remus thought of Lily. She had done the same thing. Both of them had taken steps that defied everything he thought he knew about them.

Maybe he didn’t know anyone as well as he thought.

He turned his gaze back to the stage, barely listening as the next names were called. His mind was still on Peter’s unlikely choice, wondering what had driven him to such a dangerous path. But then the room fell silent once more.

"Mary MacDonald."

Remus hadn’t been paying much attention to Mary. She was a quiet girl from Candor, someone who had always been on the periphery of his social circle but never quite in it. Like Peter, she was expected to return to Candor, to follow the path laid out for her.

But as she stepped forward, there was something different in the way she carried herself—an air of determination that hadn’t been there before.

Remus watched as Mary approached the bowls, her face unreadable. She had been raised for truth, for stark black and white honesty. But as she stood there, knife in hand, she didn’t even glance at the Candor bowl.

Her hand hovered for a moment before she cut her palm, the blood pooling in her hand. She didn’t hesitate. She turned directly toward Erudite and let her blood fall into the clear water of their bowl.

A gasp rippled through the crowd, and Remus felt his own breath catch. Mary? Erudite?

He could hear a shocked intake of breath coming from the Candor crowd, a sharp sound that echoed in the stunned silence. Remus glanced back at the section, seeing the shock painted on their faces, the confusion in their eyes.

But Mary didn’t waver. She walked straight toward the Erudite section, her chin held high. When she reached Remus, she flashed him a grin, looking more relieved than he had ever seen her.

"Looks like we’re going to be best friends now," she said lightly, nudging him as she took her place beside him.

Remus blinked, still processing what had just happened. "I… yeah, I guess so," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself.

Mary’s grin widened, and Remus felt a flicker of admiration for her bravery. She had defied expectations, just like Lily and Peter had, but she had done it with a quiet confidence that Remus couldn’t help but respect.

As the ceremony continued, Remus stood there beside Mary, still reeling from the choices made that evening. Everything he had expected, everything he had planned, had shifted in the span of a few moments.

And as the crowd slowly dispersed, Remus couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.