"Black, Regulus," Professor McGonagall announced. His was the first name on the long list of first years, and while it worsened his anxiety to be the first in this unfamiliar situation—even as he had read on what would happen, knew exactly what to expect, knowing of was not knowing—it was probably better to rip the band-aid off rather than wait and let the anticipation build. Regulus was on the taller side of eleven, with wavy black hair reaching just past his jawline that he may or may not have grown out in imitation of his brother. He was a quiet sort of lad that usually spent his days reading when his brother was not around to get him into trouble, soaking up any knowledge he could to try and please both his curiosity and his parents' expectations.

Regulus could admit at least to himself that part of the reason he was partially terrified of the sorting currently going on was his parents. Already his brother had gotten into Gryffindor, of all places for the Black family to end up, so his parents
had layered the pressure normally meant for the first son on to , he somewhat resented his older brother for that, but most of the time he just quietly adored him. Regulus would never admit it to his face, but he idolized his brother, who had always played with him even when their parents pushed him aside in favor of pureblood politics. That led to the other reason why he was terrified for his sorting: While his parents wanted him to get into Slytherin, his brother might
not forgive him if he did. Regulus was not unaware, despite his young age, of the chasm between his brother and the rest of the Black family for differences of view. The Blacks typically leaned towards the darker side of magic, but his brother, especially since he had gotten into Gryffindor, wanted nothing to do with dark magic.

Sucking in a soundless breath in hope for calming, Regulus walked slowly up to the chair he would sit upon while he was sorted, back straight and strides steady. He didn't look among the table of red and gold for his brother, but kept his gaze fixed upon his destination. The stool was a smooth, well-worn wood, and the hat was frayed in the edges, and Regulus focused on these things to keep from nervously quickening his pace or looking for comfort in his brother. He needed to appear separate from him currently, if only so that his parents couldn't blame his influence if Regulus was not sorted into Slytherin. If such a thing happened, other dark-oriented pureblood students could very well report home, and inadvertently to his parents.

He sat gently on the stool as the tattered Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

Well, what do we have here?

Regulus nearly jumped, unprepared for the voice inside his head.

Easy, just little ol' me here to sort you. Goodness what a fine mind you have, you wouldn't believe how immature and uneducated most eleven year-olds are... A Black, hmm? Yes, I suppose that perfectly explains it.

Excuse me, Regulus hesitantly interrupted the hat's ramblings, but why are you talking to me? Don't you need to decide where I go?

Oh, indeed, the Sorting Hat acknowledged him. But to do that, I must search your mind for what would make you fit in somewhere most. Talking to you only helps me get an idea of your qualities.

Oh. Thank you for answering.

Hmm, yes, with your mind both Slytherin and Ravenclaw could suit you. A thirst for knowledge is the surest sign of a raven, but you are cunning as well. You wish to prove yourself. Let's see...

Regulus cringed internally. If there were options and Slytherin was included, there was no way he could know until the very moment whether he would keep his brother or his parents. He stared blankly over the tables as the hat decided, and wondered for a moment, which he would honestly prefer. In a brief mode of thinking that would normally not be allowed by his side that longed to be the obedient son and please his parents, Regulus asked himself if he wanted the parents that always wanted a little more, or the brother that always made sure to care for him, even when stressed out from a big fight with their mother. In a momentary clarity, he chose his brother.

Um, pardon my interference, but could you please sort me into Ravenclaw? I think I would prefer it there.

The hat seemed to laugh in his head. Well, if you've made up your mind I suppose I could...

Before he could really ponder the meaning behind those words, the Sorting Hat bellowed his new house. "RAVENCLAW!"

— – - – —

Sirius whooped and hollered and clapped louder than anyone else—even the suckers in Ravenclaw—when his baby brother was sorted. He had been hoping, but at the same time dreading because he knew how highly his brother thought of their parents, for the outcome of Regulus' sorting. Here, through this, where another might see the hat sorting a student, Sirius knew that his baby brother had chosen him over their parents. The reason this year had been such a big deal, besides that Regulus was starting Hogwarts and they could actually regularly see each other, was because Sirius knew that Regulus could easily be sorted into the snake-pit, much as he might wish otherwise. If Regulus was in Ravenclaw, it was most likely because he had chosen so, much as Sirius had chosen Gryffindor over Slytherin.

And it meant a lot to Sirius.

"That's your brother?" Remus asked with polite interest. Sirius turned back to his friends with a huge grin and nodded enthusiastically. He knew they wouldn't really be able to understand why he was so happy Regulus was in Ravenclaw, not even little Peter who actually had a little sister—even now James looked at him with a more thoughtful expression than usual—but that was alright; two years made very good friends, but not good enough that he was going to share his home-life. If Remus was entitled to his secret once-a-month outings, Sirius could very well keep some things to himself.

The rest of the sortings blurred by, as none of their group was really looking especially for any one sorting. Peter's little sister would start next year, and neither Remus nor James actually had any siblings. Dumbledore gave his required annual beginning speech, interspersed with oddities as the man ever was, and then the food appeared on the tables, summoned up by the house elves employed in Hogwarts' service.

Sirius talked with his friends, planning a prank for the first morning amidst the inquiries to health and summer activities. Above all, however, he eagerly awaited the time where he could run over and give Regulus a hug. It would not be that night, nor the next morning, but he was sure he could find and glomp-attack his brother some time the following day. He would wait the necessary time for the politics of the matter to settle, and then he would return to his normal disregard for them.