Because everyone and their aunt has written this. So I decided to join the movement.

I don't own it.

He had told everybody he knew that he wouldn't be afraid of his sorting. That he would sit on that stool and be dignified, that he wouldn't be shaking in his robes, that he wouldn't be scared. He had told James, Narcissa, Bella and Regulas. He had even told his parents, before they had learned to be ashamed of him. He had bragged about it. And one thing about Sirius Black was that he always kept his word.

Which was why he was trying so hard to not be scared, even though every survival instinct in his body told him to turn around and run. And his name hadn't even been called yet.

"Arnold, Gary."

Black. Curse his last name. Why couldn't his name be Zimmer? Or Vandertramp? Why did it have to be Black? Why did his name have to start with a B?

As Gary Arnold nearly missed the chair, when he went to sit down, Sirius closed his eyes. He knew what was going to happen. It was inevitable. He would sit down on that stool and the Sorting Hat would barely touch his head before it spat out the only house he could be in- Slytherin. Then he would go and sit down amongst his cousins and he would be accepted among them, but the rest of the school would judge him, and James would never talk to him again.

"Hufflepuff!"

Well, that certainly took a while. Gary Arnold had been up there for nearly 5 minutes.

It wasn't until his name was called that Sirius realised McGonagall had gone through all of the A's and a few of the B's as well.

No! He wasn't ready for this! Could they maybe get back to him?

"Black, Sirius," McGonagall repeated, and James nudged him. Sirius took a step forward. He wasn't supposed to be scared, remember?

He concentrated hard on the stool, determined not to trip, fall, miss, topple over, or anything like that. He was concentrating so hard on the stool that when the hat was finally placed on his head he jumped a little.

One beat, two beats, and still the hat hadn't shouted anything out. The students were showing only polite indifference, and only Narcissa was looking at him.

"Hmm..." the hat muttered in his ear, and Sirius jumped. He had forgotten it talked!

"Most Blacks I see are immediate Slytherin's... but I see you're different..."

Different? He was no different. How could he be? He had been raised by Slytherin's. Shouldn't that make him one?

"Now don't get me wrong, you would do well in Slytherin... You have the cunning, the wits, the desire... but I see bravery too, and loyalty to your friends... brains too, although somehow I doubt you will be using them much..."

Sirius wasn't sure whether to take offense to that or not. Actually, he was just really confused.

"Yes, you're a different one, alright."

The lengthy amount of time he had been up there had drawn the eyes of the older students, and now everyone was looking at him. A crease had appeared between McGonagall's eyebrows. Was she going to kick him off? Tell him to just pick a house?

Hurry up!

"I beg your pardon? I do not appreciate being rushed. Well then, if you're so eager, GRYF-"

Wait!

"You rush me and then disagree?"

I can't be in Gryffindor!

"And why not?"

Because I'm not brave!

"I disagree. And no one can see into your brain quite as well as I can. Eventually you will begin to understand, but until then I believe I have the upper hand. You would do well in any house, I believe. But you would excel in Gryffindor. And that's where you want to be."

It is?

"You will do fine. Trust me."

And for some reason, he did, more then he trusted his mother or father or cousins or brother. He knew that from now on, time at home would be tough. But he knew that he didn't belong in Slytherin. Maybe he always had.

As the hat shouted out his house, a grin broke out on Sirius' face even as the rest of the school was left with hanging jaws. A hush fell over the crowd as Sirius got down off his stool and grinned at James, before making his way to the Gryffindor table among cat calls and cheers. Narcissa had a terrible look about her face, and Sirius could only imagine what his parents would say.

But he didn't care. Because he was done with pretending to be a Black. He wasn't. Maybe he never had been.