Among the Emeralds

One ruby amid the emeralds

Like a drop of blood

On grass.

One gilded lily amid

The solid silver

Glass.

One age-old lineage

Shattered.

Toujours Pur,

Toujours Pur.

One ruby amid the emeralds

Like a drop of blood

On grass.

    When Sirius Black was born, no one knew. No one knew that he would grow up to be the first downfall of the Black line. No one knew he would be the first of the Black line to not take the path of Slytherin.

    His hate for his family ran deep from the moment he knew their past. It was smiled upon; resentment often made leaders, desire for power made great wizards. And no one knew that this hatred of his descent would mean more than greatness.

    When he was put in Gryffindor over Slytherin he was scorned by all for a time. The Slytherins - his brother and cousins included - thought him traitor. The Gryffindors saw his name and thought him dirty, an ounce of undeserving scum. The first mistake of the Sorting Hat.

~

    “Sirius Black!” called McGonagall, and a thin boy, with long dark hair and blue eyes, stumbled out of line.

    Murmurs passed through the crowd: “Black? Sirius Black?” and “A Black, eh? Three guesses where he’s going…”

    Of course, had anyone dared take three guesses at which House, they’d have been wrong with all three.

    “GRYFFINDOR!” cried the Sorting Hat, and the entire Hall went silent. Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow, a smile twitching at his lips. Numerous Slytherins, including Lucius Malfoy, a third year, stood and gawked at the tiny boy, who looked as shy as ever. He took the Hat off and walked apprehensively over to the proper table. The students at the end of the table scooted as far over as they could, so that they would save themselves from being contaminated.

    And when he sat down, staring at the worn tabletop, no one noticed the tears in his eyes.

~

    He didn’t talk for what seemed like the first month of school. The other three first year Gryffindor boys regarded him with distaste. Never touching him, or his fine things, never looking him in the eye. Until one Potions class, when James Potter was forced to partner him in Potions.

    “Now, the potion we’re going to be working on today is a Stinging Solution,” said their teacher, Professor Logan. “It’s relatively simple,” she said. Here James glared at Sirius and muttered, “Good for you, Black,” under his breath. “But when splashed it can be particularly dangerous, so I trust you can all act mature around it.” Her eyes fell on James, who had a knack for splashing, exploding, melting, and generally every other undesirable matter possible.

    He grinned widely at her, hazel eyes flickering over to a pair of fair-haired boys that were partnering together. They smirked wickedly back at him, and Sirius quaked ever so slightly.

~

    “So, it’s ‘Sirius’, is it, Black?” asked James, plopping his beetle eyes vehemently into the cauldron, so that the potion slopped up on the sides.

    “And what if it is?” snapped Sirius back, mashing his poisonous caterpillar into greenish pulp.

    “Well,” said James, splitting his shrivelfig lengthwise and throwing the halves in. “Your family…they’re not very nice, are they?”

    Sirius growled ever so slightly under his breath, scraping the goop from his caterpillar into the cauldron.

    “What kind of a name,” continued James, leaning down to lower the heat under the cauldron. “Is ‘Sirius’, anyway?”

    For a moment Sirius didn’t answer. He sat, elbows resting on the desk in front of him, wooden spoon and pestle in hand looking down. Then he said, so softly no one but James could hear, “At least I’m pureblooded.”

    James’ hand slipped and at least two ounces too much of the bright orange powder he was measuring dropped into the cauldron. “What did you say?”

    “I said ‘At least I’m pureblooded’,” said Sirius, his face flushing.

    James’ face was red too, only with anger over embarrassment. “Proud of that, eh?” he asked, shaking his head.    

    “What if I am?”

    James continued to shake his head. “I just don’t know,” he said, “How someone can be proud that they have hating, uncaring, murdering, dirty relatives.”

    Sirius bit his lip, knowing it was true. Then he said, more out of anger than anything, “It’s better than having filthy, tainted blood, at any rate.”

    James whipped his wand out and held it under Sirius’ chin, eyes narrowed in fury. “Are you calling me a Mudblood?”

    Sirius shrugged slightly, then nodded. “Why yes, Potter, I suppose I am.”

    He poked into Sirius’ neck harder. “Give me a reason,” he whispered vehemently. “And I will.”

    “Mr. Potter!” exclaimed Professor Logan. “Ten points from Gryffindor! Threatening a fellow student - at your age - and with a wand as well!”

    James took the wand away, glaring daggers at Sirius. His blonde friends smiled ruefully at him, and he shook his head. “He provoked me, Professor,” he said meekly, knowing it was unlikely to help the situation.

    She shook her head at him and turned aside.

    “You’ll pay for that, Black,” said James when she was out of earshot.

    “For what?” asked Sirius innocently, tossing some powdered dragon claw and whole Kneazle teeth into the mix. He knelt to turn the heat up.

    James just sat and glared for the rest of class, until Professor Logan called for them to bottle their potions and label the flasks with their names and House.

    Sirius reached for the bottle first, handing James a strip of sticky parchment to write their names on. James snatched the paper from his grasp.

    Uncorking the bottle, Sirius used the provided ladle to splash some of their potion into it.

    “Suppose we’re going to get an Outstanding on this, eh?” asked James.

    Sirius stared, confused. Was James trying to make casual conversation with him?

    “I mean,” he said coldly, handing the label over. “You and you’re family, why, you’re up to your eyes in the Dark Arts, aren’t you?”

    Sirius tried with all his might to ignore him.

    “Unforgivable Curses, spells, poisons, dangerous potions. Things like that, I s’pose?” he said, knowing he was angering Black. “You must have learned all about this kind of thing at home, I bet. Practice them on Muggles, I s’pose, don’t you?”

    Lily Evans turned and glared at the pair of them. James ruffled his hair and smiled at her. She rolled her eyes and turned away.

    Sirius was going red in his anger. “What’s the matter, Black? Does the truth hurt? Does -”

    At this point, however, his words were cut off by Sirius hurling an entire ladleful of the Stinging Solution at James.

    The orange potion spattered messily over his face, searing his skin. Remus came to his aid with water from his wand, but when the potion was gone, angry splash-marks covered James’ face.

    Peter helped his friend to his feet. Remus dried his wand on his robes, grabbed James’ wand, and pointed his own at Sirius. “You’ll pay for that some day,” he said, jabbing it into Sirius’ skin. And then all three of them - James, Peter, and Remus - were gone.

    “Well, yes,” said Sirius, brushing himself off and standing. “Of course we’re going to make an Outstanding.”