Title: Little Star

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Sirius is sorted into Slytherin and attempts to walk the line between his affection for a skinny werewolf and pureblood expecations.

Author's notes: Written for the 2010 RS Small Gifts exchange on LJ.

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[First Year]

1 September, 1971

Dear Mother and Father,

It is near midnight, but I am writing as you requested to let you know that all went well. In fact, I am sitting at a writing desk in the common room where I discovered something of great interest - the Black crest carved into the inner lid. Defacing school property, Father? I would never have thought it of you. In all seriousness, the windows that look out into the lake are as splendid as you told me. The other Houses can't possibly equal such a sight. I don't think I shall ever tire of it.

Lucius Malfoy spoke to me this evening to say I should come to him if I have need of anything. He is the Sixth Year prefect, and he gave me special permission to use the common room after curfew so that I wouldn't disturb my roommates. As expected, Avery, Mulciber, and Rosier were sorted into Slytherin. There are five of us, including me. Severus Snape makes up our fifth. I spoke to him briefly on the train. Do you know his family? Lucius seemed to take a keen interest in him after the Welcoming Feast because of a certain hex he managed to perform. It was rather advanced for a First Year, but his looks and manners are atrocious.

Professor Slughorn made a point to speak to me after the feast. He asked after you both and sends his best wishes, and he has already invited me to join his regular set. I know you will be pleased that I have fallen in with the right sort. I hope this proves to you that I intend to work hard this term and follow your wishes.

Please give Regulus the enclosed note, and tell him that I can't wait until he is at school with me next year. I am closing now because I have Transfiguration first thing in the morning, and I've heard it is one of the more challenging classes here at Hogwarts.

Narcissa sends her love, and Lucius asked me to send his respects.

I hope you all keep well.

Your son,

Sirius Orion Black

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Dear Reg,

Help! I'm trapped in the dungeons, forced to share a room with Mulciber's ugly gob. Avery and Rosier aren't much better. I tried to have a game of chess with Rosier but gave up in disgust. You played better when you were six and had accidentally gotten into the intoxicating powder in the cursed trinket box in Father's study. Malfoy swooped in to offer me a game, and I must admit he isn't a bad player, though he's only sucking up because he's after our cousin Narcissa. It's right disgusting to see them together. I bet Aunt Druella would have a fit if she saw what I saw tonight. It's too nauseating to go on about, so I'll spare you the terrible nightmares it would likely give you.

The only other bloke in our room is a greasy git called Snape. He actually looks a lot like our music tutor, that is if Mr. Strangeways hadn't bathed for a year and had become a vampire in the meantime. Anyway, they're all foul and useless, and I don't know what I'll do for decent conversation. I wish you were here.

On the bright side, I'm out of the old mausoleum! (Though Slytherin quarters are as dark and gloomy as dear old Grimmauld Place. The windows look out into murky old lake water! I swear I saw a fish that looked like a cross between Kreacher and Aunt Druella.) Anyway, I've got Hogwarts at my feet, and I'll make the most of it. I promise you that! The food here is brilliant. I ate so much my stomach still hurts, but it was worth it. Can barely keep my eyes open, though, so I'm going to sleep (If Mulciber's snores don't drive me round the bend first, I can hear them from here). My silencing charm is getting pretty good, you know. (Ha, one benefit to come from Mother's Episodes.) It works so much better with my own wand, but I hope you'll have better luck with Uncle Lycoris' old one. See if Kreacher can't get the mold off. And don't let Mother catch you with it.

Anyway, I'll write you soon.

Sirius

P.S. Don't forget to use the special ink in your letters to me in case Mother intercepts them. Nosy old bat.

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Sirius frowned when he pushed open the thick door to see a slight boy perched on the bench in front of the large grand piano that had place of pride in the round, tower room. There were other music rooms, of course, but this was his favorite. He hadn't even seen another student in this wing of the castle until now, and he wasn't about to give up what he had come to think was rightfully his.

The boy hadn't noticed him yet. He was shuffling through sheafs of sheet music, completely intent on his task. Sirius stepped into the room, deliberately letting the door swing shut with a heavy thud. Sheet music flew everywhere, and the boy's startlement sent a surge of satisfaction through Sirius. He raised a sardonic eyebrow, watching him scramble to retrieve the sheets of paper.

Clutching the messy stack to his chest, the boy stood by the bench awkwardly and stared at Sirius. Sirius could see now that he was terribly pale and slender. He looked as if he were recovering from a long illness, though the faint flush across his high cheekbones gave his face a tiny bit of color, and the sunlight slanting through the high windows lit up his tawny hair. Disturbed dust motes swirled around him as the boy coughed slightly.

"Hello," he said in a voice so soft Sirius could barely hear him.

Sirius looked at him a few seconds longer, this time noting the House tie and making the connection to the classes he shared with the first year Gryffindors. He vaguely recalled the quiet boy, mainly because he always sat near James Potter, who wasn't nearly so unobtrusive. Sirius felt the small pang he always did when he remembered the train ride to Hogwarts, sharing the compartment with Potter, and the brief fantasy he'd entertained of not being sorted into Slytherin. As if his parents would have allowed anything else. He gave himself a mental shake and returned the boy's look coolly.

"You play?"

"Yes."

"Are you any good?"

The boy turned a darker shade of pink. "I've been playing since I was six."

"That doesn't really answer my question, does it?" Sirius took a few more steps into the room. "My brother's been playing almost as long as you, and he can barely plonk out anything that doesn't make your ears bleed."

The faintest of grins turned up the corners of the boy's mouth. "I'm all right."

That he'd evoked the tiny smile pleased Sirius for some reason, though he didn't let it show. "What's your name?"

"Remus Lupin."

"Are you a pureblood?"

The smile faded. The boy-Lupin-shook his head, looking away and shifting awkwardly again.

Sirius was sure he couldn't be a muggleborn, not with a name like that.

"Half?"

"Yes." Lupin took a deep breath and looked up. "I was almost finished. I can-I'll just clear out, all right? And you can have the room now."

"Wait," Sirius said as Lupin tried to shuffle his music into a more manageable pile. "This is where I always practice. It's my room."

"Oh. Sorry." Lupin looked down at his feet again, and began to edge toward the door. "I guess...I'll just find another room from now on, then."

Sirius felt a twinge of guilt, especially when he saw Lupin's eyes flicker over to the piano with a wistful expression. Sirius knew it was the best piano in the music wing, even if he rarely played it himself.

Grudgingly, he shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose you could use it when I'm not."

"Really?" The grateful expression in Lupin's eyes made Sirius feel uncomfortable. "Are you sure?"

"Said so, didn't I?" Striding forward, Sirius thrust out his hand. "I'm Sirius Black."

Looking surprised, Lupin reached out to grasp it, cradling the stack of papers in one arm. "I know."

Sirius scowled at that. "Been listening to gossip about me, have you?"

"No! I just...we have three classes together," Remus said in his quiet voice. "I just know who you are."

Feeling rather silly, Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets. "Oh."

"Bugger!" Remus swore as he lost his grip on the papers and they spiraled down to the dusty rug that covered most of the room.

The unexpected exclamation made Sirius' eyebrows fly up, and he stared at Lupin's flustered expression for a moment before bursting into laughter. He surprised both of them by bending down to help gather up the sheets. After a moment he whistled.

"These are really advanced, Lupin." Sirius looked at him with new respect. "You must be good."

That earned him another smile. "I said I'm all right."

"Better than, I'd say." Sirius returned the grin. "Play something."

"Oh...no." Lupin shook his head, going pink again and looking completely horrified at the thought of it.

Never able to resist a challenge, Sirius goaded him. "Go on, then. Lupin. No one here but you and me. Otherwise I'll think you can't really play anything but Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."

Unexpectedly, Lupin gave him a shy grin. "You play something for me first."

Sirius laughed. "Oh, I don't play the piano. Or, well, I've had lessons and I play 'all right'." He tipped a wink at Lupin. "But it's not my instrument."

Remus was all surprise. "What is, then?"

"Well." Sirius considered him a moment, chewing his lip in uncertainty. "Promise not to laugh?"

"I won't laugh."

After a moment, Sirius slipped a hand into his pocket and retrieved a small object. He moved over to the side of the room and sat it on the floor in front of one of the windows and then stood back to pull his wand out. Lupin was watching curiously and Sirius beckoned him over, muttering a word and giving his wand a quick flick.

A few seconds later, the strings of his full-sized harp were gleaming in the light from the windows. Sirius basked a moment in the look of awe Lupin was wearing.

"Father taught me the spell. I don't want to leave my harp here, and I don't want my gormless roommates near it."

Lupin seemed unphased by the sentiment, and he stepped closer, reaching out a hand but stopping short of touching the gilded instrument. "It's beautiful."

Pleased, Sirius smiled at him. "I know it's a bit showy, but it was my Mother's. She was the one who wanted me to play."

"Are you any good?" Letting his hand drop, Lupin gave him a sidelong grin.

Sirius laughed. "Of course." Without further prompting, he pulled up a low stool and got into position, trilling the strings once before meeting Lupin's eye. His mouth tugged into a grin as he began to play the notes of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Lupin threw back his head and laughed. The high color in his cheeks made him look much healthier, and Sirius again felt a warming tingle of pride that he had put it there. His fingers finished the tune as he laughed with Lupin. "Your turn now, Lupin." Sirius nodded toward the piano.

For a moment he thought Lupin might beg off. His eyes went wide and glanced toward the door, but then his chin lifted and he nodded once. "All right, then."

He selected his music and sat at the bench, posture perfect, his hands curving over the keys. Before he began, he looked over his shoulder at Sirius and offered him another small smile. "You can me Remus, if you want."