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Sirius really couldn’t blame that James Potter boy for not being as keen to talk to him as he had been at first. Sirius might’ve been only eleven years old but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what his family was like and what their views were.
But still, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit… disappointed?
James seemed really fun. Sirius felt like they’d really connected in that train compartment. Until he said his name, that was. Then he could see a flash of disgust on James’ face. He could see him pulling away.
Maybe it was stupid of Sirius to think he’d have friends at Hogwarts. But he really had hoped that would be the case.
Now, he’d been sorted into Gryffindor so his parents were furious at him and none of his relatives talked to him. Not that he specifically wanted them to but… It would’ve been better than being alone.
Because even though he was a Gryffindor, he was still a Black first. No one trusted him.
He got cold looks from the boys in the dorm, James included, though, or maybe that was just Sirius’ imagination, his looks were slightly less cold. He got cold looks from all the kids in his year. If he really thought about it, it was most of the kids from the entire school.
He wasn’t good enough for the Death Eaters’ side - but that didn’t bother him too much; he didn’t think he wanted to be on their side - but he wasn’t good enough for the other side either.
The horrible question was: why were there even sides when he was just an eleven-year-old boy? All he wanted was to make friends. Why did he have to worry about some war?
Sirius ate meals in the Great Hall alone. He sat in classes alone. After they were finished, he did his homework in the Common Room, alone , and then went up to the dorm.
The only time anyone spoke to him was in a brief, what’s-the-homework way. Or if they wanted to “recruit” him because “not all was lost” and “he still came from a good family.”
Sirius didn’t know what recruiting meant but he did know he couldn’t possibly be interested in it if those people called his family good. Sirius knew for a fact that that wasn’t true.
All he really had was letters from his little brother. But Regulus was writing that their parents had told him to stop talking to Sirius because he was a disgrace now.
So essentially, Sirius didn’t really have anything.
One day, he was peacefully doing his homework in the Common Room just like always and he could feel the eyes on him. He felt the Gryffindors’ gazes creep up his neck, he heard their hushed whispers.
He was so sick of it.
He snapped his book shut, a bit too loudly for his own liking, and tucked it into his bag. Then, ignoring all the people still staring at him, he stood up and marched out through the portrait hole.
Why did everyone find it so enjoyable to stare and whisper about him? He was only eleven. He didn’t have a say in what his family did.
His destination was the library but after about ten minutes of wandering around the castle, when his anger had watered down a little, Sirius realized that he didn’t remember where the library was.
After another ten minutes, he found himself in the dungeon - the library wasn’t there, he remembered, he had Potions classes there. All that was there apart from the classroom was…
The Slytherin Common Room.
Sirius spun around. The last thing he needed was to be seen near there. That would only make the Gryffindors hate him more.
But as he hurriedly made his way down the hall, there was a sudden thud and something appeared out of nowhere, rolling on the ground, as if someone had dropped it.
“ Damn it, ” someone whispered.
Sirius froze, staring at where the voice had come from. There was no one there.
One of the items that had fallen, trailed down across the corridor and knocked into Sirius’ foot. He snapped his eyes to it. It was… a Dungbomb?
Sirius knelt down and picked it up carefully. He looked up, not really sure what to do.
“Uh…” he stammered.
And then, suddenly, a face appeared right in front of him, just hanging mid-air.
James Potter’s face.
Sirius jerked backwards, startled. “Wha—”
“Hi,” James said, smiling awkwardly. “Sorry, that’s mine, could you—”
But he cut off when they both heard footsteps of someone descending the stairs.
In a swift movement, James wrapped Sirius around something and they crashed into a wall. Sirius let out a gasp before slapping a hand over his mouth.
It was an Invisibility Cloak. They were under an Invisibility Cloak, their backs pressed up against the corridor’s wall. Sirius was still clutching that Dungbomb in his hand.
Approximately a fourth-year walked out onto the hall from the stairs, a Slytherin, judging by their tie. Sirius and James held their breaths as they passed them.
Not really intentionally, Sirius’ brain quickly started to make up a plan.
He moved forward, to go after the Slytherin. But James pulled him back.
“What are you doing?” he hissed in a hushed voice. “Just give me the Dungbomb and go!”
“If we follow them we’ll be able to have an opening to the Common Room!” Sirius whispered.
James’ brows pulled into a frown. “What?”
“They’ll open the door,” Sirius explained hurriedly. “Then I can hold it open, you’ll throw in the Dungbombs and then we run. You in?”
James stared at Sirius for a moment, as if calculating.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “Okay.”
They caught up with the Slytherin quietly and stood right behind them as they opened the door with the password, holding their breaths once again.
Sirius caught hold of the door after the Slytherin had already walked in when it was barely open anymore. He nodded at James.
James nodded back and grabbed the Dungbombs. Pulling his hand out of the Invisibility Cloak, he chucked them into the Common Room.
Sirius almost immediately slammed the door shut, before they could even see the aftermath of their damage, and they both bolted into the corridor, almost tripping over their own feet and the Cloak.
They stopped once they were already by the staircase, leaning against the wall and panting - but then they both erupted with laughter.
And Sirius thought that maybe he did have something after all.