If I owned even a tiny smidgeon of the Harry Potter universe, I would be permanently vacationing in New Zealand. Since I am very not, I can only conclude that J.K. Rowling still owns it all.
I can't even begin to comprehend how long you guys were waiting for this. I'm about to go iron my fingers. My deepest apologies about the extreme shortness and lateness of this chapter.
Have turned this into a short story. Have concocted a different approach to Marauder writing that want to try. Have also mysteriously lost all pronouns which drives beta mad. Have gone in search of pronouns to pacify beta.
HUGE THANKS TO EVERYONE.
A Black, eh? The voice echoed inside Sirius' head. Well, then. Do you like the sound of Slytherin?
"Very funny," Sirius thought dryly. "Call me crazy, but I'm feeling a bit more liberal-minded tonight."
I see. Ravenclaw, then?
"I'll even take Hufflepuff, if you're feeling generous," Sirius scowled.
Oh, my. That sounded a little bitter, if you ask me. Well, I see that you're plenty intelligent, and you certainly know how to get what you want. You do happen to sound like a Slytherin, from the start—
"Taking the lazy way will only get your threads pulled out later."
See what I mean? Going to get your own way in the end, aren't you? Oh, very well. I'll take a look around your head and see what I find.
Sirius reached down and grasped the edge of the stool without uncrossing his fingers, gripping the wood so tightly he could almost feel his joints moving the wrong directions.
There, there. Don't hurt yourself. You'll be done in a moment. Sirius could hear the humor in the Hat's voice. He sent an incoherent but disgruntled thought at the Hat, only giving it further amusement. Impatient, are we? If you want me to do an abbreviated session, you'll be a Slytherin for sure.
"No, no. Take your time," Sirius thought, trying to keep his eye from twitching.
Thank you very much, the Hat sent out and fell silent.
Sirius started tapping his toe against the stool leg for awhile. When bored with that, he tried counting the different configuration of nervous knots his stomach was twisting itself into over and over again. He thought briefly of James, and wondered if the boy was concerned for him or had convinced himself not to care by now. He tried to plan out the ways he could both humiliate the house of Slytherin and get expelled in one shot. He even began contemplating the honorability of the Hat's descent—or more likely, its being-sewed-togetherness. He even began a debate with himself on whether that was a logical question, all without comment from the Hat itself.
Sirius then began to wonder if the Hat had fallen asleep—No, I haven't. But you're a hard nut to crack, and no pun intended. Sirius thought he could hear a new quality to the Hat's voice, more reserved and subdued. He was just as certain the Hat was all-business now as he had been that it was playing before. But it also had a tone of gentleness. Something like hope began to rise in Sirius' chest.
There's certainly more to you than meets the eye, Mr. Black. You're meant to go far in the world, and it won't be through Slytherin.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked quickly. "What were you looking at that I didn't see?"
You'll find out. Good luck, Mr. Black. My pleasure to have met you.
"What?"
GRYFFINDOR!
Sirius felt the floor drop out from beneath him and take all the oxygen in the room with it. He tore the Hat from his head while sending it a huge mental "Thank you!", following a half-formed and mostly irrational thought of preventing it from changing its mind. He handed the Sorting Hat back to Professor McGonagall with more calm than he thought he possessed, giving a huge grin in response to her shocked look. Sirius headed down to the silent Gryffindor table, allowing nothing to disturb his suddenly overwhelming happiness. He sat down at the far end of the table, feeling as though he'd won a great victory. He could tell from the suspicious glances and whispered comments that it was only some of the first shots fired in the long war ahead, but this time it was a war he could fight. It would be hard and lonely, but he would work his way into the Gryffindor house and make it his home.
A low and rhythmic clap started from behind him; a solitary pair of hands began an awed and enthusiastic applause. Sirius spun in his seat and made eye contact with his sole supporter: James. Suddenly, Sirius felt the fight ahead wouldn't be so lonely after all.
James' applause was then joined by another pair of hands from the staff table as Professor Dumbledore joined in. Sirius spared him a glance and a grin, taking in the Headmaster's own wide smile. A few more first years joined the clapping, and then the rest of Gryffindor slowly gave their own approval. Sirius felt like dancing, but contained himself as the ceremony continued. By the time James was sorted and sitting beside him, Sirius felt like he could take on the world.