Under the Lilac Tree {Sirius Black}

The Sorting and Friends

Cleo, Charlie, and the other boys all piled into a boat and crossed the Black Lake. Wow. that was all that Cleo could think as she stared at the magnificent structure before her; none of the stories or descriptions her mother gave had done the castle justice. Even after all the stories she's heard, she could have never imagined that it would be this beautiful. The castle was grand, imposing, and extravagant; even from across the lake she could feel it's history seeping through the cobblestone walls.

"It's pretty cool, isn't it?" A voice brought her out of her wonderment. She turned her head to see James also looking at the castle. "My Mum told me that I'll never forget the first time I see the castle." he said as he adjusted his glasses that seemed to be in constant battle with gravity to stay on his nose. 

"And will you? remember it, I mean..." Cleo asked. James just shrugged his shoulders

"I guess. But I know for sure that I won't forget how friCKIN SLOW THESE BOATS ARE." He said and threw his arms in the air in exasperation. He moved his hand into the water and attempted to paddle.

"You're going to get eaten by a giant squid you know..." Sirius said, giving James a slight joking push toward the water.

"aaaaaAAAhhhHH"

They had all sorts of conversations, and she knew the boys pretty well now; Peter- the follower of the boys, quiet and reserved. She could tell he intently listened to all their conversations, but rarely added anything; he was hesitant to open up. Remus- probably the only sensible guy out of the quartet. He too was reserved, but not in the same way as Peter. When Remus spoke, Cleo could feel intent and reason seeping off him. Remus didn't just talk to talk, he spoke with a purpose behind every word. He was also sweet and kind. When he asked Cleo about her necklace, there was a genuine interest in his tone–caring, almost–starkly contrasting the other boy's rowdiness. With his disobedient hair and crooked glasses, you'd be a fool to think James was anything like the previous boy. Everyone in the boat had already heard about his broomstick at least four times, and if his ego and the dung bombs in his robe pockets were anything to go by, he was a prankster. Sirius was...confusing: first glance, his ego is hard to ignore. Flirtatious and charming and happy-go-lucky; Sirius had almost everything going for him. Sarcasm dripping from almost every word, but his eyes betray him. Stormy grey with a sharp glint of mischief, but there was a looming overcast that told Cleo there was a lot more to Sirius Black than she might ever be able to find out. 

A teacher names professor McGonagall greeted them and where told how they were going to be sorted and what the houses were. Cleo really wanted to be sorted into Gryffindor, not that she had anything against the other houses, but something about the thought of breaking tradition set a spark in Cleo. She could be different: she didn't have to be a Ravenclaw, she didn't have to pass though her Hogwarts years quietly and unrecognized, she didn't have to be the teachers pet like all the other Brooks'. She could decide her own fate. The Great Hall was already reasonably full before a couple hundred eleven year olds joined too. All of the first years where looking around the hall in awe, with the enchanted ceiling and the floating candles, the other students and the big throne where the headmaster sat. Professor Dumbledore gave a small speech, but Cleo payed no attention. 

As much as she really wanted to be a Gryffindor, another, equally passionate, part of her hoped she wasn't sorted into Slytherin. She knew all the Slytherin stereotypes were probably all just a myth, but the thought still nagged her in the back of her mind. 

As the sorting began and name after name was called, Cleo felt panic rise in her chest with each passing minute. She tried to play it cool, make it seem like she would be fine with just about any house, but the truth was, she was scared about what her parents would say if she broke tradition, as exhilarating of a though that it is.