A History of Death Part IV
Title: A History of Death
Author: Must I say it again?
Pairing: Sirius/Remus and Sirius/Severus...maybe some mentionings of other pairings
Rating: T+
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Sirius, Severus, Remus, the Blacks, James, Lily, Harry, Peter, and a whole cast of others...
Warnings: If you've read the prequels, you get the idea
Disclaimer: Not mine...except for the plot. that is mine. I will return the characters before JKR realizeds their gone, I promise
Summery: My name is Sirius, and this is my story. This is why I've done what I've done. I'm not very nice, as you'll see. In fact, you could say I'm plain mean. But nothing I've done is worse than what's been done to me. --My Little Series from Sirius's view. Sequel to pretty much everything else I've written.
This Chapter: Sirius' sorting
A History of Death
Sorting
I don’t think I properly informed you as to why being sorted into Gryffindor dishonored my family so. Being a Gryffindor is a very big piece of who I am. It became a definition of my character. Every single member of my family, since the beginning of Hogwarts, has gone into Slytherin House. Every single one. I broke over a thousand years of tradition.
My mother was all about tradition.
I was different. I wasn’t the perfect heir the Family demanded. The Family demanded an obedient little puppet that would worship the pedigree and carry on the sanctity of our blood purity. They wanted someone who could look someone in the eyes and lie (well, I can do that). They wanted someone who would do as told and crush the mudblood vermin underneath his foot. I was unacceptable because I could never do as I was told.
I never told anyone before, but the Sorting Hat almost couldn’t decide where to place me. It argued between Gryffindor and Slytherin for so long, many people muttered that I had used dark magic to confound the relic. The fools. No on-not even Dumbledore-could confound that hat. Still, ten minutes is a long time to wait. It was even more nerve-racking for me. My future was at stake.
I was bold, and I was clever. I was brave, and I was sly. I was chivalrous, and I wanted power. I was temperamental, and I egotistical. I also had the pedigree. The hat couldn’t decide. Though I was full of wit and natural intelligence, it didn’t even consider me for Ravenclaw, which would have been tolerated by the Family. Neither was Hufflepuff considered.
Finally it asked me what I wanted. I answered, “I want to prove them wrong.”
It chuckled and said, “Very well. With you, it’s to GRYFFINDOR!”
The entirety of the hall went silent, even the head table. No one clapped. I was almost as shocked as the rest. My fate was sealed. Then the shouting started.
“A Black! A Black in Gryffindor!”
“He’ll kill us in our sleep!”
“Dirty little Snake!”
Head Master Dumbledore stood and shouted, “Silence!” and the entirety of the hall quieted reluctantly. “Would you please take your seat at Gryffindor House Table, Mister Black. Professor McGonagall, please continue with the ceremony.”
My first night in the tower was just as welcoming. I was housed with three other boys-Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter as I’ve previously mentioned-and Potter would not let me forget that it was by a trick of fate that I was in Gryffindor. He declared a vendetta against me, swearing by his blood as a Potter he would beat me. He never did. But he was always the one who knew how to hurt me best…
The first morning I received a Howler from my mother. During the night my cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa had written to her and told her of the Sorting Hat’s decision. Andromeda, the middle sister and always my favorite cousin, had never gotten along with my mother, or her sisters for that matter. She kept out of their plot.
I still remember what that Howler contained. I’m so glad she screamed in that dreadful mix of French and Latin she was so fond of rather than English. The only ones in the hall who understood her were my Family, some members of Old Families, and Professor Dumbledore. Still, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it would have been if everyone knew.
You are no son of mine! You shame of my flesh! (She would become quite fond of that expression later.) How dare you! How dare you, you little, ungrateful brat!
I knew Christmas Holiday would be a misery. It was.
I told you I stopped eating then to purify myself. That’s only half of the truth. I stopped eating because I was afraid. I knew They could poison me just as easily here as They could at Black Manor. I stopped eating to stop myself from dying a worse death.
But it wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve been poisoned.
When I was nine, Cousin Bellatrix dared me to drink a vial of extract of deadly nightshade. I knew it would kill me, make no mistake. I just didn’t care. I downed it in a single swallow.
I had only wanted to get away from her. I don’t know who gave me the bezoar. Perhaps my mother, but then again, why would she? If I had died then her precious child would have become heir. I was my father’s favorite. Maybe he did.
Regulus started his first year during my second. The whole hall went silent at the sorting ceremony, just like they had when my name had been called. My brother walked to the foreground with the same haunty gate and masked expression all Blacks are so good at that I did when I was sorted.
I held my breath-anticipation? nerves? Take your pick. James was sitting next to me, and he saw my reaction. He grabbed my hand and have me a little squeeze to tell me he was there, and he understood. I must have nearly broken his hand from how hard I returned his grip.
My little brother took his place on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
“SLYTHERIN!”
My heart sank.
Slytherin House broke into cheers; Gryffindor House broke into jeers, but not James or Remus. They were silent to honor my feelings. Peter never noticed.
Regulus had made his first move to usurp me, even if it was unintentional. The Family finally had a worthy son for the title of heir, but Regulus would always call me his grand frère-his big brother-even when the Family said I was no longer so.
Author: Must I say it again?
Pairing: Sirius/Remus and Sirius/Severus...maybe some mentionings of other pairings
Rating: T+
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Sirius, Severus, Remus, the Blacks, James, Lily, Harry, Peter, and a whole cast of others...
Warnings: If you've read the prequels, you get the idea
Disclaimer: Not mine...except for the plot. that is mine. I will return the characters before JKR realizeds their gone, I promise
Summery: My name is Sirius, and this is my story. This is why I've done what I've done. I'm not very nice, as you'll see. In fact, you could say I'm plain mean. But nothing I've done is worse than what's been done to me. --My Little Series from Sirius's view. Sequel to pretty much everything else I've written.
This Chapter: Sirius' sorting
A History of Death
Sorting
I don’t think I properly informed you as to why being sorted into Gryffindor dishonored my family so. Being a Gryffindor is a very big piece of who I am. It became a definition of my character. Every single member of my family, since the beginning of Hogwarts, has gone into Slytherin House. Every single one. I broke over a thousand years of tradition.
My mother was all about tradition.
I was different. I wasn’t the perfect heir the Family demanded. The Family demanded an obedient little puppet that would worship the pedigree and carry on the sanctity of our blood purity. They wanted someone who could look someone in the eyes and lie (well, I can do that). They wanted someone who would do as told and crush the mudblood vermin underneath his foot. I was unacceptable because I could never do as I was told.
I never told anyone before, but the Sorting Hat almost couldn’t decide where to place me. It argued between Gryffindor and Slytherin for so long, many people muttered that I had used dark magic to confound the relic. The fools. No on-not even Dumbledore-could confound that hat. Still, ten minutes is a long time to wait. It was even more nerve-racking for me. My future was at stake.
I was bold, and I was clever. I was brave, and I was sly. I was chivalrous, and I wanted power. I was temperamental, and I egotistical. I also had the pedigree. The hat couldn’t decide. Though I was full of wit and natural intelligence, it didn’t even consider me for Ravenclaw, which would have been tolerated by the Family. Neither was Hufflepuff considered.
Finally it asked me what I wanted. I answered, “I want to prove them wrong.”
It chuckled and said, “Very well. With you, it’s to GRYFFINDOR!”
The entirety of the hall went silent, even the head table. No one clapped. I was almost as shocked as the rest. My fate was sealed. Then the shouting started.
“A Black! A Black in Gryffindor!”
“He’ll kill us in our sleep!”
“Dirty little Snake!”
Head Master Dumbledore stood and shouted, “Silence!” and the entirety of the hall quieted reluctantly. “Would you please take your seat at Gryffindor House Table, Mister Black. Professor McGonagall, please continue with the ceremony.”
My first night in the tower was just as welcoming. I was housed with three other boys-Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter as I’ve previously mentioned-and Potter would not let me forget that it was by a trick of fate that I was in Gryffindor. He declared a vendetta against me, swearing by his blood as a Potter he would beat me. He never did. But he was always the one who knew how to hurt me best…
The first morning I received a Howler from my mother. During the night my cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa had written to her and told her of the Sorting Hat’s decision. Andromeda, the middle sister and always my favorite cousin, had never gotten along with my mother, or her sisters for that matter. She kept out of their plot.
I still remember what that Howler contained. I’m so glad she screamed in that dreadful mix of French and Latin she was so fond of rather than English. The only ones in the hall who understood her were my Family, some members of Old Families, and Professor Dumbledore. Still, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it would have been if everyone knew.
You are no son of mine! You shame of my flesh! (She would become quite fond of that expression later.) How dare you! How dare you, you little, ungrateful brat!
I knew Christmas Holiday would be a misery. It was.
I told you I stopped eating then to purify myself. That’s only half of the truth. I stopped eating because I was afraid. I knew They could poison me just as easily here as They could at Black Manor. I stopped eating to stop myself from dying a worse death.
But it wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve been poisoned.
When I was nine, Cousin Bellatrix dared me to drink a vial of extract of deadly nightshade. I knew it would kill me, make no mistake. I just didn’t care. I downed it in a single swallow.
I had only wanted to get away from her. I don’t know who gave me the bezoar. Perhaps my mother, but then again, why would she? If I had died then her precious child would have become heir. I was my father’s favorite. Maybe he did.
Regulus started his first year during my second. The whole hall went silent at the sorting ceremony, just like they had when my name had been called. My brother walked to the foreground with the same haunty gate and masked expression all Blacks are so good at that I did when I was sorted.
I held my breath-anticipation? nerves? Take your pick. James was sitting next to me, and he saw my reaction. He grabbed my hand and have me a little squeeze to tell me he was there, and he understood. I must have nearly broken his hand from how hard I returned his grip.
My little brother took his place on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
“SLYTHERIN!”
My heart sank.
Slytherin House broke into cheers; Gryffindor House broke into jeers, but not James or Remus. They were silent to honor my feelings. Peter never noticed.
Regulus had made his first move to usurp me, even if it was unintentional. The Family finally had a worthy son for the title of heir, but Regulus would always call me his grand frère-his big brother-even when the Family said I was no longer so.