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Maraudic Revelations

By whirligigkat

Drama / Other

September 1, 1971: Sirius

September 1, 1971

Sirius

I've just been sorted into Gryffindor.

What.

I'm a bit numb now, you know, because I don't even want to think about how ANGRY father is going to be. It's just bad luck, is what it is, but who cares cos I've entirely BOLLOXED my entire school existence in the space of FOUR HOURS.

The blokes I sat with on the train- Rodolphus, I think, and- Wilkes? Don't remember- but anyway they're BOTH in Slytherin. I'M supposed to be there, every single ONE of my family has been in Slytherin and I'm just..so, so so so SO….bolloxed. They'll hire some assassin to come murder me in the night with great bloody axes. Or something.

It's not that I even liked Rudolphus and Wilkes- they were actually busy tripping Mudbloods up in the hallway for most of the trip, they seemed a bit stupid and, you know, hulking and all that- but anyway it's not like I particularly enjoy most of my family's company, even, so maybe it's better I'm not in the same house as Bellatrix…

Maybe it'll be alright in Gryffindor- maybe I should forget about the giant bloody axe murderers and focus on how glorious it will be when Father and Mother get the news…Ohhhhhhh they're going to be SO angry…I'll just write them, shall I?

DEAREST MOTHER AND FATHER:

You'll be happy to note that I've gone and landed myself in GRYFFINDOR.

I know that you will be EVER SO PLEASED.

Your Moste Loyal, Excellent, Mind-Bogglingly Wonderful, Pure-blood and First-born Son,

SIRIUS

That's rather appealing, isn't it? I think I will send exactly this. Oh, how mother will wail, Father will howl exotic curses and together they will cast that dastardly letter into the flames, where it will ERRUPT in Gold and Red sparks and OH how they shall CURSE THE DAY SIRIUS THE GREAT WAS BORN!

Or something along those lines. That sounds pretty bloody fantastic though. We'll just assume it'll go like that, shall we? Suppose I won't have to see them for AGES anyway.

So much for assassins in the night.

There's this boy staring at me from the bed across. Well, not really, he kind of peeks and looks very embarrassed to say anything. Let's see how long he can hold out, eh!

Actually he's the one I saw when I was about to put on the Sorting Hat. I didn't tell you about that.

I was practicing my 'lofty sneering' expression- because Father seems to wear it so well, and he always just OOZES confidence- which can really be quite intimidating- so anyhow, stupid arse that I am, I decided to be very confident and wear The Expression- though Regulus tells me I look a bit as if I've swallowed a sock. But he's an idiot, so.

Anyway, of course this is exactly when I've been called to put on the hat, so I trip over my feet but still! CONFIDENCE OOZER! LORD OF FIRST YEARS!

But then, you know for this split-second before the Hat drops over my eyes and blocks everything from view, this bloke catches my eye. And I was, and am so far into my Hogwarts experience, unbelievably unsatisfied with the people I've met, and so this rather friendly-looking bloke sort of twitches, and we look at each other and I think Merlin's BALLS I am so sick of idiots, and all this Mudblood-Pure-blood utter crap. And so he gives me this little smile, a kind of, hello! I'm a nice person, maybe we'll be friends, eh? And I'm just frowning a bit, thinking, EH?

But he's got a friendly face, with rather a large nose (although not as large as this greasy-haired boy I saw earlier- nose of EPIC proportions, that-) and- very cool- a long bit of scar down his cheek. Wonder where he got that bit of manliness? I wish I had a scar. Everyone would hear the stupendous tale of how I fought off a dragon single-handedly whilst defending a beautiful maiden, who, of course, would be much older than my eleven-year-old self, and far bustier than any eleven-year-old girl I've yet to lay eyes on.

But anyway.

So then down the hat goes, and I'm still thinking, 'BOY HOW GREAT WOULD IT BE TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT AREN'T COMPLETELY INSUFFERABLE PRATS!' Because, you know, being with Regulus constantly TRULY takes its toll.

That hat was awful though. Like it was strolling around my BRAIN, which was, you know, awkward to say the least, and I could almost hear it probing around in my thoughts.

'Ambitious?' it goes. 'Yes, I suppose...and headstrong, yes..' and here I'm thinking, 'la dee dah, ho hum, Slytherin for me I suppose..'

But THEN it starts, 'But also very playful, loyal, a thirst for friendship and strong bonds..yes, yes..' And I go 'Playful!' because I am not PLAYFUL. Puppies are playful. And butterflies and sunny meadows with frolicking deer. I am NOT playful. I am STOIC and NOBLE and….IMPOSING. That's right.

So anyways, there I am, grumbling to this ratty old hat, telling it how STOIC I am, how I come from an old PURE-BLOOD family of UNTARNISHED REPUTATION, and the bloody hat, the bloody HAT goes,

'Gryffindor.'

That's it! Just, 'Gryffindor.' Cool as you like, no questions or anything. As if it hadn't seen my ENTIRE FAMILY IS SLYTHERIN AND THEY WILL MURDER ME IN MY SLEEP. The boys next morning will come looking for their roommate and see giant bloody stains and say "Hallo, weren't that Sirius Black just a moment ago?"

Stupid bloody hat.

So, here I am now, pondering my fate and trying not to look at this bloke sitting across from me with this old grimy book he keeps leafing through. I think he's getting the courage to speak! Aha, we shall soon have a name to record in your dusty innards. If he's not a sodding idiot of course. I suppose I might as well make the best of this, eh? Oh hell. I'm a Slytherin through and through, who am I kidding.

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