A/N— Short one-shot about Sirius' sorting. I might continue this as a series of one-shots about Sirius' time at Hogwarts depending on the response, but for now, this is it. So enjoy—and review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Any characters and settings that you might recognize belong to the genius who is J.K. Rowling.

"Abbott, Sam!" Professor McGonagall called, reading the names of the first years from a list.

Don't panic, you're not scared. I'm Sirius bloody Black, I don't get scared. I don't get nervous.

I don't worry about the future. I don't stress over decisions. I don't get clammy hands, or a faster heartbeat, or stress headaches. They just don't occur to me. I don't worry about anything. I just move through life. No, not move—I glide. I glide through life. Yeah, that's better. I glide through life.

I won't—I refuse to live up to my namesake. A star sign, a bloody bright star sign at that, I'll do. I like the implications of that.

Serious, on the other hand—I won't kid myself, because that's never going to happen. Naming me Sirius Black was pretty much the biggest irony I can think of.

I'm not serious, and if I can help it, I never will be. Serious is boring. Serious is responsibility. Serious is the correct way to be a part of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Screw that. I'm part of the House of Black, but you can forget any ideas of me being bloody proper.

So far, I've taunted a soon-to-be-Slytherin, blown off Bella's seat invitation on the train, spent far more on sweets than could possibly be acceptable, and I've got to be mates with James bloody Potter. A Potter! And I like him a lot, at that. I'm about as far from proper as I can get at the moment. I'm sure Mother will be thrilled.

"Have you packed?" she yelled up the staircase, her voice a tad higher than usual, but her expression is probably unreadable, as usual.

I looked around at the mess that was my room, and the extremely minimal amount of things in my trunk. "Yes, almost done!" I yelled back, then went back to the exploding snap I was playing with Reg. Screw packing, I can do it tomorrow. It's August 30, school isn't for two days.

BOOM! The cards blew up in Reg's face, and I couldn't smother my laughter, though I could tell he was far from amused. That did it, though. Mum heard the noise and came up to investigate.

"Sirius Black! I told you to pack! That's it, off you go Regulus, clean up. Sirius! Pack your trunk. Can't I even trust you with the one responsibility of organizing for school? This is absolutely ridiculous!" she barked, and turned on her heel to go back down the hall.

I wasn't actually nervous about putting the hat on my head, it was what it would say that was bothering me. A little bit. I just want to get the sorting over with. Thank Merlin my name isn't Zxyria or something like that.

My family has been in Slytherin since we began to exist, and it's always been presented as an absolute honour to be associated with it. All the powerful wizards have been from Slytherin, and I'm not sure that it would be an awful place to be. I just don't see why it's the only option.

And no one will ever explain it to me. I asked your mother and she just looked at me as if I'd taken the form of the devil himself and asked why in Merlin's name I would ever even consider dishonouring the family that way, before taking away my supper before I was finished. I asked my father and he slapped me across the face before telling me to stop being such an impertinent little twat, and that being sorted into the houses of the weak and idiots of society were not things to be considered.

I never got my answer.

I read the Prophet sometimes, and see half-bloods and muggle-borns doing all sorts of amazing things, even if my parents say that it's all rubbish.

The second she was gone, Reg was back in my room and sitting on my bed. "Sooooooo, what house are you going to be in, Siri?" He asked with humour in his voice, as if the question were funny. "You're smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, right? Surrounded by geniuses day and night? Mother and Father would be so proud of their bright blue, rule abiding, perfect son. Or, you could be a Hufflepuff! Mr. Loyal and friendliness. You would fit in perfectly with that lot of idiots, Mr. Sunshine and smiles."

For a nine year old, the little bugger is rather sarcastic, I thought to myself, "Shove off, you idiot. I haven't decided what I want yet." I told him, busy throwing things into my trunk and not really paying attention to what I was saying, or I probably wouldn't have said that to obedient little Reg.

"What? I was joking! You actually want to be in something other than Slytherin?" he demanded, shocked.

I sighed distractedly, "I dunno, Reg. Think about it. Would bravery be such a bad thing to be known for?" I asked, throwing all my pants and socks in, before deciding on trousers and shirts that I wanted. Maybe I should just bring the lot?

"Er, yes! Yes it would. That would make you a Gryffindor! A bloody Gryffindor! Siri, have you lost your mind? That house is full of blood traitors and mudbloods. Mum says so all the time. You don't actually want to be there, do you?"

"No," I said half-heartedly, and sighed, "I guess not."

And the Gryffindors were always the ones on the front page. The Aurors, the fighters, the risk-takers, the heros. I kind of like the idea of being a hero.

Being a hero, though, is fairly low on your average Slytherin's to do list. Being surrounded by tons of studious geniuses' minds day in and day out might get to be a bit much for me, so maybe not Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff's always sounded a bit dodgey to me, though I don't really know what to believe, but it just doesn't sit right.

No matter what I told Reg, something about the idea of Gryffindor has an odd attraction for me. Courage, bravery, chivalry, nobility—they seem like decent character traits to be known for. And James Potter is definitely going to be in Gryffindor. He is a Potter, after all. Also, he actually seems to fit the part of belonging to his family.

"Arnold, Cheri!" Getting close. Deep breath. Sirius Black is never nervous, so why start now?

I'll be fine, wherever I go. Even if it's not Slytherin, though I almost feel like being sorted into Slytherin would be a letdown, in an odd way. I've never agreed with everything my parents said, and I like being the rebel, the 'black sheep', despite the awful pun—so why quit now. Why settle for something everyone else wants just because they want it? What if I don't want it?

"Black, Sirius!" This is it. I strode up to the hat with new found confidence. I'll just go with it and face any consequences later.

I sat down on the stool and felt the hat being placed on my head.

Hmmmm...Another Black. I almost jumped, hearing the voice in my head. But you seem different somehow. Not quite in keeping with the family trend. Slytherin might not be kind to you. It doesn't really fit your personalit, exactly.

What if I don't want it? Maybe I don't. Maybe I just really honestly don't care if I'm somehow letting my parents down by using my own brain. Maybe I'm just not a Slytherin, no matter how hard my parents try to force me to be.

Surprising. I expected that you'd be upset.

More like had my suspicions confirmed. I'm different, I'm not excepting of things like Reg is. I'm more of a fighter, less of a pushover. I'm special.

Modest, too. Well, in that case...where to put you? Very bright mind, fiercely loyal, not much consideration for the rules, and brave, very brave. Almost to the point of recklessness. That's quite a mixture, you know, Mr. Black. Impressive.

Hmmmm...I know – GRYFFINDOR!

A smile spread across my face as I realized what had just happened. The Great Hall was almost eerily silent. Everyone seemed stunned; a Black not in Slytherin. I really couldn't care less, though. I got Gryffindor, I'm going to be rooming with James, and the hat had called me very brave. Very brave!

I looked around at everyone's faces, finding the shock written there oddly hilarious, and looked back to see the Headmaster smiling slightly at me, his brilliant blue eyes so bright they were almost sparkling. He looked genuinely happy for me. I took that as encouragement that maybe not everybody was unpleasantly surprised.

I heard applause from my left and looked over to see James clapping enthusiastically, though he was pretty much the only one. A few other students, probably Muggle-borns, were clapping tentatively until they saw that no one else was, and quickly stopped.

I grinned at James, thinking it was a good thing we had happened to sit together on the train. At least one, maybe two, people were happy for me now.

Not even the all-too-loud "You're dead" courtesy of Bella could ruin my mood. I just looked over at her, handed the hat back to McGonagall, and grinned at my new table, mainly looking at James.

"Go Lions," I said, not loudly, but it was still eerily quiet in the hall, so it was clear everyone heard me.

I ran down the steps, still grinning like an idiot, and plopped into a chair at the end of the table full of students wearing red and gold ties and pins, like mine were going to be.

Some people were smiling hesitantly at me, some were staring disbelievingly, some looked confused about the reactions of the others, and some looked like I'd personally insulted them, just by existing. I rolled my eyes at a few of the last group.

Sighing to myself, I thought of my parents' reactions—not good. I can hear the howler now:

"You are a disgrace! A disgrace to the noble and respected name of Black! How dare you abandon tradition and desert Slytherin for the sorry sight of Gryffindor? We knew you were disobedient, but you've taken this too far! You have no respect for our family, or anything we stand for! Toujur Pur, Sirius, Toujur Pur! And Gryffindor sure as hell isn't. House of filth!"

Or something equally as pleasant. Oh well, whatever.

Judging by the stares that I'm getting, this is going to be a year that never gets dull.

I, Sirius Black, am going to show the world once and for all that I am definitely Gryffindor material.

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