"Sirius, for Grindelwald's sake, get yourself through that bloody wall!" Mrs. Black was beginning to lose her patience and her now frequent outbursts were attracting the attention of the Muggles on the platform around them. One man peered over at Sirius's mother edgily, provoking Bellatrix to growl at him fiercely.

Sirius stared at the wall between platforms nine and ten. Despite his inexperience in carpentry, the wall appeared to be built rather solidly out of brick and cement.

"Oh, move over," said Bellatrix impetuously, shoving Sirius aside. Sirius looked at his mother in protest, but she was busy nodding encouragingly at Bellatrix. "That's right, Bella, show the boy how it's done," Mrs. Black said.

Sweeping her long, glossy black hair vainly from her face, Bellatrix grasped the handle of her trolley, and practically strolled up to the brick wall and through it.

Sirius blinked. Through it? He heard Regulus gasp behind him. "She's gone?" Sirius asked excitedly. Mrs. Black gave him a scathing look.

"Go," she commanded Sirius, in tones unlike those she had just used with her niece.

Obediently, Sirius wheeled his luggage around to face the wall. Dog whined from atop a trunk. All eyes seemed to be boring into his skull. Taking a deep breath, Sirius calmly adopted a quick pace in the direction of the wall. This is easy, he thought, half-smiling at his astonished little brother.

He brought his attention back to the looming brick structure. As it came closer, Sirius felt himself beginning to perspire. Closing his eyes and stepping up his pace into a jog, he braced himself for the worst. He couldn't help but think how metaphorically fitting this situation was.

Suddenly, Sirius felt a rough bump. He felt himself groan inwardly. Out of instinct, he let go of the trolley handles and threw his arms in front of his face, expecting seventy pounds of luggage and owl cage to ricochet onto his eleven year old frame.

He stood there for a few seconds in a stiff, hunched position. He could hear the familiar cackle of his least favorite cousin. Opening one eyelid tentatively, he realized that he was now standing before the Hogwarts Express, and that his liberated trolley was careening toward a post reading 'Platform 9 3/4'. Sirius gasped, and sprinted to it immediately, but found himself too late. The cart crashed into the post, knocking it over. His luggage and owl soared into the air.

"Dog!" Sirius cried, ignoring his cousin's hysterical laughter behind him and the gathering crowd of oglers. The cage very fortunately didn't fly far and landed in Sirius's outstretched arms, but the same could not be said for his luggage.

Sirius watched miserably as the two trunks bounced back onto the ground and snapped open. Mrs. Black, having just come through the platform barrier with Regulus, was able to witness the last bit of action, as Sirius's various offensively colored undergarments and apparel floated festively to the floor.

There was a short silence, followed by amused laughter.

"What are all you mangy pieces of ignominious bat droppings smirking at?!" The mirth dispersed quickly as Mrs. Black marched over to the scene, glaring at the crowd. "There's nothing to see, so get out of here!" she growled. Frightened by her disturbed looking expression, the crowd complied without protest.

"And you," she hissed, turning to Sirius, who wanted to dive under the chaotic mass of clothes at his feet. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice low and her eyes darting to the sides. Sirius wished to point out that this attempt at secrecy was completely unnecessary considering previous events. "I do not bring you out in public with me so that you could besmirch the family name and create a laughing stock out of yourself!" she whispered hysterically, her eyes looking as though they were about to leap out of their sockets and strike Sirius in the face.

"Sorry," Sirius said, in as much of an apologetic tone as he could.

Mrs. Black's eyes narrowed. "Your father will hear about this," she in a deadly tone. "Pack!" she muttered, turning to the gaping trunks.

A wave of dread washed over Sirius as he watched his toucan patterned socks fly into one of the trunks with the rest of his clothing.

Without even a word of goodbye, Mrs. Black strode past Sirius, grabbed Regulus by the arm, and disappeared through the barrier into the Muggle world.

Bellatrix and the rest of his relatives had disappeared, leaving Sirius to board the Hogwarts Express alone. He stumbled off to the baggage compartment, stowing away Dog and his trunks, which he could swear were snickering at him.

Sirius boarded the train behind a group of giggling third years wearing blue and silver stripped scarves. Ravenclaw, Sirius thought absently, vaguely remembering Andromeda sporting similar attire.

He squeezed through the crowded train hallway, searching for an empty compartment. This was difficult business, as he was rather late, held up by the incident with his rambunctious belongings. He finally found a compartment near the end of the train; however, it was occupied by two boys. Spotting Narcissa giggling with a tall, blond Slytherin-robed boy, Sirius decided immediately that this would have to do, and slipped in.

One boy appeared no older than himself, sporting light brown curly hair and watery blue eyes that all but shook as he raised them to greet Sirius's.

"May I sit in here?" Sirius asked politely, glancing at the other boy who was sleeping with his mouth slightly open, his face leaning against the window. The watery-eyed boy nodded. "I'm Peter," he offered shyly.

Sirius took his seat across from Peter, next to the sleeping boy. "I'm Sirius," he said. "Who's Sleeping Beauty?" Sirius asked, jerking his head in the direction of the snoozer.

Peter shrugged his tiny shoulders. He looked small for his age, and could be no heavier than ninety pounds, Sirius guessed. "He was like this when I got here," Peter explained.

"I see," Sirius said. They sat there awkwardly for a few seconds. Peter fidgeted with a hole in his seat.

"Are you a pureblood?" Sirius asked abruptly.

Peter blinked. "Yes…" he said slowly. He coughed a little.

"What's your surname?" Sirius plowed on, unaware of the discomfort he was causing.

"Pettigrew," Peter said uncertainly, as though he wasn't sure whether that really was his last name. Sirius nodded. He recognized the name and, thinking back to the essay his wrote for his mother on Mudbloods, Muggle Lovers, and More,was not able to associate it with any blood traitors in his mind. He supposed this was safe. No need to bring any more trouble upon himself.

"What's yours?" Peter asked curiously.

"Black," said Sirius absently.

Peter's eyes grew wide. He leaned back in his seat a little. Sirius scratched his arm nervously.

The next few hours of the train ride were moderately quiet. No one bothered them, not even themselves. The boy next to Sirius slumbered on, but at least, Sirius rationalized, he wasn't snoring. Peter had eventually gotten over the Black heir's presence, and taken out a pair of tie-dye patterned goggles and a book. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Sirius just watched the blur of the countryside in the compartment window. He tried not to think of his mother bursting into the house, spilling the day's events to his father. Mr. Black's steady, paralyzing gaze filled Sirius's mind. He shivered involuntarily.

"You're a pompous, disgusting pig, James Potter!" howled a female voice, interrupting Sirius's reverie. His head turned in the direction of the voice. There appeared to be a ruckus of sorts taking place outside of his compartment.

There was a mocking catcall, followed by laughter. "How dare you?!" cried the same voice in outrage. A second later, a boy pulled open their compartment door and in an energized voice, asked if he could take refuge in their humble booth.

Peter, with a gaping mouth and funny looking goggles, nodded and continued staring at the newcomer.

Sirius examined their guest. He was of a moderate height with a wiry frame and windswept hair. He wore glasses and a confident grin.

"You're James Potter?" Sirus asked finally, not caring enough to ask about what had just happened. He had a feeling that he'd heard that name before.

"The one and only," James said proudly, plopping himself down next to Peter. "I'm a first year," he said, his voice bubbling with ill-contained excitement. "You?"

Peter nodded and Sirius just shrugged. James grinned. "Fantastic," he said. "What about that guy?" he asked, pointing at the sleeping boy.

Sirius shrugged again. "He's been sleeping since we got here." Sirius looked carefully at the boy. "But he does look like a first year," he admitted.

"What could possibly make him so tired?" James asked incredulously. "I mean, it's Hogwarts." The other two stared at him. This wasn't quite the reaction he had expected. "Aren't you excited at all?"

The truth was that Sirius and Peter were just too astounded by James's sudden flourish of an entrance and obscene amounts of energy to reply properly.

"Oh, never mind, then," James said sadly with a sigh. "Are either of you interested in Quidditch?"

Despite the years of training that had practically been stamped onto the insides of Sirius's eyelids, he felt his eyes immediately light up.

"What's your team?" James asked, pleased that he'd found a successful topic of interest.

"Holyhead Harpies," Sirius said without a moment of hesitation. James nearly shot up out of his seat. "No way!" he exclaimed.

"You too?" Sirius felt himself winding up. James nodded his head emphatically. "We must be the last surviving fans in all of England and Ireland," James whistled.

"This is true," Sirius said sadly.

A streak of zeal flashed through James's eyes. "That's only because the rest are too cowardly to stick by their teams once the going gets rough!" he exclaimed. "A five game losing streak, and they all rush over to the Wimbourne Wasps, tails in between their legs! And all 'cause of that new beater, Bagman, I'll bet!"

"Turncoats," Sirius muttered darkly.

"Bastards," James said scornfully.

"Turncoat bastards," Sirius agreed.

There was a pause and the two smiled at each other approvingly.

"So what did you say your name was?" James asked curiously.

"Oh, I didn't," Sirius said. "I'm—"

The compartment door slid open, interrupting Sirius mid-sentence.

It was Bellatrix. "What do we have here?" she purred.

"What do you want?" Sirius asked resentfully, clearly remembering the uproarious laughter that had overtaken her when he'd made his entrance onto the platform.

Bellatrix sneered. "I think the last thing that you need, dear cousin," Bellatrix said unabashedly, "Is Mother storming up to the school and bringing you home on account of your contemptible behavior."

Sirius attempted a puzzled glare. "And what have I done to elicit such an honor?" he asked with mock civility.

Bellatrix grinned in an unpleasant way. "I suppose we could let you off the hook this once," Bellatrix said, turning to Narcissa, who Sirius had not noticed up till then, and the four Slytherin upperclassmen behind her. "But bear in mind that the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would not do well sitting in the company of Muggle-loving trash such as this in the future." She sent a chilling stare at an affronted James.

Sirius looked at James Potter. So he had heard that name before. It was no more than five years ago that Sirius, the ignorant child he had been, had asked his father if he could play with the son of his coworker, kicking off his 'Purist Education.' That coworker had been Charlus Potter.

Horrified, Sirius sprang out of his seat. His mother would most certainly devise some conniving plan to murder him if she ever found out that her eldest son had shared a conversation with this boy, and worse—that he had enjoyed it.

Bellatrix, Sirius thought reluctantly, was right. This was the last thing he needed. Especially given the circumstances.

Narcissa waited for him to catch up. "Sorry about her," she said to Sirius, "She's been kind of unpleasant all summer." Sirius wanted to tell Narcissa that her sister had been unpleasant all thirteen years of her life. "I think some boy rejected her," she whispered.

Sirius gaped at her. Narcissa nodded, attempting to stifle a giggle. A nasty smirk spread its way across Sirius's features. "Uh-oh," Narcissa said with a grin. "I hope I didn't just start something vile." They both knew she had.

"Hey, cousin," Bellatrix called in a sing-songy voice from the front of the group. They had stopped in front of another compartment. Pushing aside one of her Slytherin followers, she yanked Sirius to her. "Why don't you go make nice with your new dormmates?" she said, and pushed him into the compartment.

Sirius stumbled forward. He was about to protest, but Bellatrix had already slid the door closed. She glared at him through the window.

Glaring back, Sirius turned around to face the first year soon-to-be Slytherins. There were four of them, all male. Sirius recognized the one by the window to be Severus Snape, who seemed almost grateful to see him. The boy next to him appeared to be extremely bored, and yawned as if to confirm this. The other two were wearing near hostile expressions and were, coincidentally, sitting side by side.

"You're Sirius Black?" asked one of the hostile boys. He had dark hair and heavy, slanted eyebrows that gave him a perpetual look of anger. Sirius nodded.

"I'm Malcolm Avery, but I'd prefer it if you just called me Avery," the boy said. "This is Rabastan Lestrange," Avery said pointing at the second hostile boy who looked as though he'd just swallowed a piece of rotten papaya. "And those two are Mundungus Fletcher and Severus Snape."

Sirius nodded again, and quickly took a seat beside Mundungus.

"You're the heir of the Black House," said Rabastan.

"Yeah," Sirius said, unsure whether this was a question or a mere statement.

"My brother Rodolphous is the one who gets all the gold in my family when my parents die," Rabastan said enviously. He leered at Sirius who merely stared back.

"Bollocks for you," Sirius said unapologetically. Mundungus let out an unexpected bray of laughter. Sirius immediately decided that he liked this boy. Rabastan glared at the both of them.

"Hey, hey," Avery said. "Let's be civil. We're gonna be sharing the same room for the next seven years."

Rabastan huffed. "Whatever," he mumbled.

Avery turned back to Sirius. "You follow Quidditch?" he asked.

Sirius shrugged. "I don't care much for it," he lied. "Got better things to do."

"Oh…" Avery said uncertainly. They lapsed into an awkward silence.

Sirius wasn't sure why he'd denied his interest in Quidditch to Avery. Maybe it was because Avery seemed to be the sort to ridicule Sirius's favorite team, Sirius wasn't sure. He suddenly wished that he was back at that compartment with James, Peter, and the sleeping boy.

The rest of the train ride was rather uneventful. Sirius caught Severus looking sneakily at him a few times, but wasn't sure what to make of it, so he ignored him.

When the Hogwarts Express finally made its stop at the Hogsmeade station, Sirius practically darted out of the compartment. The stifling silence had been starting to suffocate him.

He made it off the train to find a great mass of a man with a lamp waving his thick arms, calling, "Firs' years, gather 'round!" The young students gathered around him wide gaping mouths.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the man began, scratching his grand tangle of a beard. "My name is Rubeus Hagrid." Sirius surveyed the first years around him. He saw Peter and James in the mix, accompanied by the boy that had been sleeping on their compartment. James waved his hands idiotically and said something, causing the other two to laugh. For a fleeting moment, Sirius almost stepped toward them.

Hagrid continued. "I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds a' Hogwarts. Any trouble from any o' ye, and ye can be sure I'll be one o' the first to find out." Sirius supposed that this was meant to be some sort of a threat, but he was not easily fooled. Sirius had long since learned that facades could be extremely deceiving. Judging by the amused shine in his small black eyes, this Hagrid was not as tough as his exterior presented him to be.

Hagrid led the first years to a lake. Sirius heart almost fell through his stomach as the enormous man told them that he'd be leading them across the pitch black lake to the castle. "It's tradit'nal," Hagrid insisted, when met with terrified and indignant stares. Sirius felt as though he would be sick. One of his greatest fears, and subsequently his biggest secrets, was his fear of large bodies of water.

"Three to a boat," Hagrid called.

Feeling nauseous, but unwilling to voice his predicament, Sirius stepped into an empty boat. It rocked gently, but to Sirius it felt like the aquatic equivalent of an earthquake. Steadying himself by grabbing the outer rim of his boat, he lowered himself slowly into sitting position.

He was soon joined by Severus Snape and an obnoxiously inquisitive red haired girl who would not stop asking questions.

"Is it true that witches and wizards can travel from one fireplace to another by means of a substance called 'floo powder'?" she asked eagerly. Sirius ignored her, rubbing his temples after every wave of nausea.

The girl, by now identifying herself as Lily Evans, took his silence as an affirmative to her question. "What about unicorns?" she persisted. "Do your people– er, I meant witches and wizards ride unicorns to work and back?"

"Stuff it," Sirius said fiercely through gritted teeth, "Or I'll vomit on your shoes." Lily assumed an alarmed look and shifted away from Sirius, but said no more. Sirius's eyes caught Severus's and Severus half-smiled. Sirius looked away.

Not soon enough, Sirius found himself on his two feet over solid, beautiful ground, facing the entrance to the Hogwarts castle. It was enormous. Its majestic towers seemed to soar gracefully into the abyss of the evening sky, seemingly at level with the stars above.

An aged witch was waiting for them by the main door. She cleared her throat, looking severe and imposing as she surveyed each and every one of them. "I am Professor McGonagall," she said. "I teach Transfiguration here at Hogwarts. I welcome you all and trust that I will get to know each of you through your achievements rather than your troublemaking."

She frowned sternly at the young students before her. "In a moment, I will bring you inside to the Great Hall where the rest of the student body is currently waiting. There, you will be sorted into the houses that best suit your educational and personal needs. Hogwarts will be your home for the next seven years. I hope you decide to make the best of your time here. Now follow me," she said. "Quietly," she added, before even a hint of jabber broke out.

If the students had been nervous before, this was nothing to how they felt after Professor McGonagall's speech. Sirius could feel the ham he'd had for lunch turn pirouettes in his stomach.

When they entered the Great Hall, the first years found its title to be something of an understatement. It wasn't great. It was colossal. The ceiling did not even appear to exist, as it stretched to infinity, mimicking the sky outside.

Sirius suddenly became conscious that the entire school was staring at them. He noticed Bellatrix and Narcissa sitting with their friends at a table on the far side of the room.

Professor McGonagall led them to the front of the Great Hall, where there was a stool, occupied by a rather dilapidated looking wizard hat. The first years stared at it.

"Now, when I call your name," Professor McGonagall said, unrolling a piece of parchment, "You will sit on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on your head." Sirius felt clammy, just staring at it.

"Abernathy, Julia!" Professor McGonagall called. A blond haired girl stumbled over to the stool and placed the hat on her head. A few seconds later, its brim opened wide and it bellowed, "RAVENCLAW!" for the entire hall to hear. The Ravenclaw welcomed Abernathy, Julia with tumultuous applause. Sirius noticed that Andromeda was among the many that welcomed the first year to their table.

"Alderton, Johnson!" A boy, tall with frazzled orange hair, stepped up nervously.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat cried, after the boy put it on his head. Hufflepuff cheered with equal enthusiasm.

"Avery, Malcolm!" Sirius watched Avery waltz up to the stool. As if the hat itself feared Avery's sinister eyebrows, barely a second passed before it announced that Avery belonged at the "SLYTHERIN!" table. The Slytherins not only cheered, but hooted and whistled loudly. Professor McGonagall arranged her face into one of disapproval.

Sirius felt his stomach lurch as he realized that he was next.

"Black, Sirius!" The professor called from over her piece of parchment.

Sirius walked as calmly as he could manage to the Sorting Hat. He saw Bellatrix nudge the boy next to her and whisper something to him. The boy's expression was intrigued. Sirius took and deep breath and pulled the hat well over his eyes, not wishing to see the expectant faces, aware that every eye in the room was fixed on him.

"Hmm, a Black eh?" came a voice from somewhere in Sirius's own head, sending shivers down his spine. "Well, I know just where to put—no…" The voice paused for a second. "Wait a minute… What's this I see here?"

'Oh, just get it over with and put me in Slytherin', Sirius thought nervously.

"Oh no, I don't think so," the voice said, making Sirius's blood run cold. 'What?!' he thought, 'What do you mean, you don't think so?!'

"You're far better off somewhere else, yes indeed," the voice said, chuckling. Sirius found nothing amusing about this situation at all. 'I belong in Slytherin!' he thought indignantly. 'Put me there or I'll—'

"Or you'll what?" the voice taunted. "Think at me?" It cackled. "Besides, you do not belong in Slytherin, not if I have anything to say about it. And luckily for you, I do. No, I see a reckless streak in you, and a great deal of pride. Smart and lazy, you are. And you're loyal, too, which can be nice. All in all, I'd say you have the makings of a great GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word rang out loudly and clearly. The Gryffindor table erupted with cheers to welcome their first addition this year.

Sirius sat there in dumb shock. 'No!' he thought desperately. 'No, no, no, NO! Put me in Slytherin, you insolent headpiece! I demand it!' The hat did not reply.

"Mr. Black," called Professor McGonagall. Sirius could barely hear her. He felt as though someone had stuffed a lot of cotton into his ears. Pushing up the brim of the hat, he vaguely registered his cousins' expressions of astonishment before turning to Professor McGonagall.

"I, uh, think there's been a mistake, Professor."

Irritated, Professor McGonagall strode over to Sirius pulled off the hat. "Mr. Black, now really," she said in an exasperated manner. "What is wrong with you?"

"There must be some mistake," Sirius mumbled.

The professor gave Sirius an incredulous look. "There most certainly was not! This hat does not make mistakes. Now go to your table now, or I will be forced to escort you there!"

Sirius looked up at her wildly. "There was a mistake," he insisted. It was a great mistake. Gryffindor? What kind of joke was this?

"Mr. Black," the professor said threateningly.

Sirius got shakily onto his feet. He heard offended mutterings from the Gryffindor table – his table. Feeling the bile rising in his throat, he realized that there was only one thing to do in a situation such as this one.

He bolted.