Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin

The trip to Diagon Alley was an interesting one. Sirius had never been shopping anywhere except for one quick trip to Knockturn Alley to pick up his old wand when he was six. This time he found himself enthralled by everything he saw in this new place, much to Professor McGonagall's amusement.

They'd stopped at Gringotts first, where he'd quietly changed the name on Vault #711 to "Sirius Black." Then, after picking up some money at the vault (which, much to Sirius' astonishment, was loaded with Galleons among other things, and in the high security section no less), he and the professor began their shopping.

Their last stop was Ollivander's Wand Shop. The professor sent him in to pick up a wand, while she made a quick purchase at Flourish and Blots. He entered the wand shop uncertainly.

As soon as the door closed behind Sirius, a bright-eyed man appeared out of nowhere. Sirius assumed that this must be Mr. Ollivander.

"Hello," said the man. "Come in. Let's have a look at you."

Sirius uncertainly came closer. Two tape measures followed him, taking measurements. After a few moments of this, Ollivander seemed satisfied and immediately took a box from his third shelf.

"Unicorn hair and maple. Eleven-and-a-half inches. Which is your wand arm?"

Sirius held out his left hand, and Ollivander handed him the wand.

"Try it."

It felt wrong. Sirius could tell immediately. He wasn't pure enough for unicorn hair, he supposed. He waved the wand anyway, causing five wands to come flying at him. He barely ducked out of the way as they hit the wall behind him.

"Not quite," sighed Ollivander, retrieving the wand. He took a longer box from the first shelf. "Dragon heartstring and ebony. Fourteen inches."

Sirius took the wand, inwardly cringing. It was almost identical to the wand Voldemort had given to him. He waved it. A window broke.

"No. That's not right either." Ollivander took back this wand as well and searched for a new one.

Sirius stared at the broken window in stunned relief. It was as though the rejection of that wand had broken another tie with Voldemort. It was a great comfort.

He snapped out of it as a third wand was placed in his hand. "Dragon heartstring and oak. Thirteen inches," Ollivander said.

Sirius waved the wand more carefully this time. Silver and red light came from the wand as it accepted him. "Odd," Sirius thought. His last wand had shot out silver and green sparks.

Ollivander smiled. "That's better, Mr. . . ?"

"Oh--uh--Black. Sirius Black." Sirius stuck out his hand to shake the shop owner's.

Ollivander accepted the greeting and commented, "The wand will be six Galleons and four Sickles."

Sirius paid him and waited while the wand was wrapped.

Finally, Ollivander handed him his change and his wand, commenting, "That wand will be especially good for protection, Mr. Black. Perhaps you will put it to good use."

Sirius just nodded, suddenly creeped out, and left the store. Protection, huh? Odd coincidence. It left him with an eerie feeling. He was relieved to find Professor McGonagall quickly, so they could return to Hogwarts, where he would hopefully not need his wand's special powers quite so badly.

-------------------------

It was four more weeks until the rest of the students arrived at the school aboard the Hogwarts Express. Until that time, Sirius slept in the Gryffindor wing, and mostly kept to himself, often reading in the library, looking futilely for anything that mentioned Patrono Sangre.

The day the rest of the students arrived, Sirius hauled his few possessions out of the Gryffindor common room and into the wide entranceway to the school. He'd been given a brief explanation of the sorting ceremony by Professor McGonagall, whom he'd learned was head of Gryffindor house. Apparently, he, along with the rest of the first years, would be sorted into the different houses during the banquet that night. He hoped he was sorted into Gryffindor, but then anything would be better than Slytherin, his father's old house.

Sirius was standing in the middle of the entranceway when the rest of the first years bustled in around him. He stood as still as a statue, making eye contact with no one. The large group made him feel nervous and exposed, especially since he was at least a head taller than most of them. Several students were casting him curious looks, and he could hear whispered comments all around him.

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. He wasn't on the train."

"How did he get here?"

"He's a first year? He looks like third or fourth!"

"He's kind of cute . . ."

Much to Sirius' relief, Professor Nocturna, the deputy headmistress, and head of Slytherin house, appeared at the top of the stairs just then to greet them, drawing much of the attention away from him. She was a tall, slender witch, with silver hair and expressionless silver eyes. She trained those cold eyes on the first years. When they quieted down, she gave them all the same spiel about the sorting that McGonagall had given Sirius, so he tuned it out and glanced at the other students. Although most were now listening to the professor, several were still staring at him.

Sirius noticed a thin, pale boy with light brown hair gazing around the room as though he couldn't believe he were actually there. Sirius knew the feeling.

A short, dark-haired boy with round glasses turned to Sirius and grinned. "I wish she'd just let us go in and get sorted. The waiting's torture isn't it?"

Sirius nodded.

Before the boy could say any more, Nocturna finished, and the first years were lead into the banquet hall. The rest of the students already sat with their houses waiting for the ceremony to begin. Sirius was looking everywhere at once. The ceiling looked like a starry night sky, and there were candles floating over their heads.

As they walked up the center aisle, Sirius noticed the teachers all sitting at the head table. Professor Dumbledore sat in the center and Professor McGonagall sat near the end. In front of this table was a small stool standing on its own with a battered-looking old hat atop it.

Sirius and the other students exchanged puzzled looks, as Nocturna made her way to the hat. Just as she stood beside it, the hat perked up, and Sirius realized that, like the rest of this place, it was enchanted, some of its folds and tears apparently serving as eyes and a mouth.

As if that weren't peculiar enough, the hat began to sing.

"Oh, years ago when I was made,

Four wizards brave and strong

Together sent their powers forth

And Hogwarts came along.

There were some disagreements

From which four houses grew.

In each house, different strengths were praised;

Different weaknesses, too.

Those of Godric Gryffindor

Were brave and strong and true,

While with Rowena Ravenclaw

Wisdom and learning grew.

Helga Hufflepuff believed

The best work hard and try.

And Salazaar Slytherin put stock

In those both "pure" and sly.

Now years since its creation,

Divided is this school,

Each student in a different house

With a different golden rule.

I, myself, the Sorting Hat

Was given wits to choose

Which students that a house should gain

And which a house shall lose.

I've three considerations

In choosing where you'll go.

One is your raw talent;

The different strengths you show.

Another is the choice you make.

I'll listen to your plea.

But the last consideration

Is the strongest of the three.

If you're of a founder's blood,

Your place is already set;

Your house already chosen,

Without the first conditions met.

So, sit back and relax.

Be glad that you can know

I never once have chosen wrong.

I'll sort you where you ought to go."

The song ended and there was silence in the Great Hall for a moment. Then Nocturna picked up a scroll and began listing names.

"Anderson, Aramea."

A nervous blonde girl came up and was motioned to sit on the stool as Nocturna picked the Sorting Hat up. As soon as she sat, the hat was placed upon her head. After a moment's hesitation, it cried out in a loud voice, "Ravenclaw!"

Aramea happily ran to join her house, and Nocturna read the next name.

"Bannister, Jacob."

Bannister was a Gryffindor.

"Black, Sirius."

The gentle murmuring among the first years quieted as he made his way to the hat. Sirius sat on the stool and the hat was placed on him. Almost immediately he heard a voice speaking in his head. He forced down a surge of panic as foggy memories of the Imperius curse were reawakened. He squished his eyes shut and blocked out the nightmarish thoughts. It was just a stupid hat. He had to relax.

"Dark images, those were," the hat whispered. "You could have been a difficult one to sort, but you're Sirius Black, eh?" The hat chuckled. "I know you. You can't fool me. You have founder's blood in you."

"Gryffindor. Gryffindor. Please," Sirius willed the hat.

"So, you want Gryffindor? Normally I would honor that, you've certainly the bravery and strength for it, but I'm afraid this time I can't. Not with Salazaar Slytherin's blood in your veins. No, it will have to be . . . Slytherin!"

The hat shouted the house name so that everyone could hear. The Slytherin table cheered. Sirius' shoulders slumped. He sighed deeply as he made his way to his house, feeling that he couldn't be that much better than his father to land in Slytherin.

Sirius sat next to an older blonde boy. A frightening ghost covered in silver blood drifted by, sending Sirius a vaguely interested look. A blonde girl built like a house, identified the ghost as the Bloody Baron. The boy next to him turned to Sirius and smirked. "Sirius Black, hmm? I figured you'd be Slytherin. You seemed the right type. I'm Lucius. My family's been coming to Hogwarts for generations, even though this school doesn't pride itself in purebloods like it should, but the last headmaster was . . . useful. Then Dumbledore had to become headmaster . . . he's a muggle-lover, you know. My father said that if I weren't already a sixth year, he'd have transferred me to Drumstrang."

"My mother went to Durmstrang," Sirius commented, lightly.

"Really? Did she like it? I'll bet it's better than Hogwarts. They're almost all purebloods there. And I hear that they even teach the dark arts."

Sirius shrugged. "She didn't talk about it much."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I see. So, you're mum's a witch. Is your dad a wizard? I only ask because I wondered if you're a pureblood. 'Black' is such a muggle name. I only know of one other wizarding family with that as a surname."

"He's a wizard," Sirius replied, shortly. He didn't really like this boy, but he didn't think he was going to like anyone in his house. He'd have to try to make some friends, though, if he planned to survive seven years here.

It was a moment before Lucius spoke again. "That one looks like he won't make second year," he said with a laugh, motioning to the boy about to be sorted. It was the pale boy Sirius had noticed earlier. Professor Nocturna had called him Remus Lupin. Sirius watched the boy with interest, hoping he'd be Slytherin. It would be more tolerable with at least one kind face . . .

"Ravenclaw!" the hat announced.

Darn. No such luck.

"Murdock, Marnie."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Perkins, Charlie."

"Slytherin!"

"Pettigrew, Peter."

"Hufflepuff!"

It was getting repetitive and boring. The dark-haired boy who'd greeted him in the entranceway was apparently named James Potter, and was now a Gryffindor.

Finally, the sorting ended, much to Sirius' relief, with a tall, greasy-haired boy named Severus Snape being sorted into Slytherin, and a big black boy named John Stebbins becoming a Hufflepuff.

After a few odd comments by the new headmaster, and a warning about staying away from the newly planted whomping willow unless they wanted to lose limbs, they were allowed to eat. It was during the feast that Sirius finally learned Lucius' surname.

"Hey, Malfoy!" a brawny fourth year, Jules Flint, shouted. "I hear you got a new Nimbus 1001. When do we get to see it?"

"Not until practice, of course. I won't risk it being wrecked before a game," Lucius Malfoy snapped.

Sirius had momentarily stopped eating to stare at Malfoy. "Oh God," he thought, horrified. How had he not noticed before? Lucius Malfoy was Brutus Malfoy's son. And Brutus was a Death Eater. Sirius turned back to his food, picking at it now, and feeling sick. What if Lucius mentioned the name "Sirius" to his father? What if Brutus passed it on to Voldemort? It wasn't likely, Death Eaters weren't exactly great communicators, but it could happen.

"Why did I have to be Slytherin?" Sirius thought, worry killing his appetite.