A/N: Hey guys, here is the re-post of ch. 6 of MMWPP.

Sirius Black sat at the Gryffindor Table, frozen in shock at the scene that had just unfolded. He was sure everyone was.

He stood next to the hazel eyed boy, James Potter, bouncing on the balls of his feet, giving him something to do with all the pent up nervousness inside of him. He tore his eyes away from Professor McGonagall, who was setting down a worn down old stool and reading off the directions to those who didn't already know, and cast a side glance at James.

The messy haired boy was relaxed. James' arms were crossed over his chest, his knees slightly bent giving him the look that he was bored, it took a while for Sirius to realize that he actually was bored. It was obvious wasn't it? James' fate was decided the moment he got his letter, probably even before, that he was a Gryffindor.

Just like me. Sirius thought. All of James' life he was bred to be a true Gryffindor, brave and trusting. Just like all of Sirius' life, he was bred to be a Slytherin. Since he was born, Sirius ate, drank, breathed and slept the qualities of Slytherin. The only difference, other than the rivalries of the Lions and the Snakes, is that James embraced his upbringing. Sirius always rejected his.

Perhaps it was the yelling, perhaps it was the abuse, perhaps it was just the hard and ice cold look in his parents' eyes, but something in Sirius never wanted anything to do with the world of Blacks. Something in Sirius protected his mind from being brainwashed into believing the purebloodist ways his family lived by. Something in Sirius made in different.

A voice sliced through Sirius' mind, crashing his train of thought.

'Black, Sirius.'

Sirius' eyes snapped up to the Professor who stood in front of the High Table, the Sorting Hat in hand. James gave him a little nudge, which triggered the muscles in his feet to move. James stepped out of Sirius' path, mouthing good luck to him as he passed him.

His mind was reeling was he began the short walk up to the old, worn down stool and the equally old and worn, patched up hat. He cast a glance over at the Slytherin table where his cousins Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix were waiting; their silver eyes all bored, except for Andromeda, her dark eyes were alight with interest. She wasn't like the rest of them, Andy. She was different; her dark grey eyes were filled with kindness where the others were filled with cruelty. Her heart was filled with warmth, while the others were filled with coldness. Narcissa's and Bellatrix's eyes were hardened with trying to keep up the masquerade of being a part of the 'Noble House of Black'. It was all about etiquette and presentation. Not Andy, though, she didn't care.

It felt like forever since he left James and the other first years. He was now facing Professor McGonagall; her face was set in a sort of mask, one of encouragement and one of order. The two emotions seemed weird put together, but she pulled the look off quite well. She motioned for him to sit down and he turned to face the sea of students, every single eye watching his every move, every single ear listening to every sound he made; he hoped that they couldn't hear his heart beating against his ribcage. Sirius focused his glance on his cousins again. The last thing he saw was Andromeda give him an encouraging smile before the hat covered his eyes.

"Ah," the hat's voice sounded through his head, whispering in his ear. He had already been given every single detail about the sorting, so he didn't jump in surprise as most first years did when the hat first spoke, "it has been a while since I've had a mind like yours Sirius Black; a mind full of mischief and rebellion, despite your upbringing. You have a pure soul, most uncommon for a Black…" Sirius lost track of what the hat was saying as images shot through his mind.

The cold, hard look in Narcissa's and Bellatrix's eyes. The look of rage in his father's eyes when he acted out during lessons. The dark and damp walls of Number 12. The foul words Kreacher spat at him whenever they cross paths. The silent party that followed Sirius letter. Flashes of Green and Silver morphed into them as they began to zoom faster and faster. A single conversation played, like a voice over, as new images of the miserable lives of his Slytherin ancestors played like a fast-forwarded film in his mind's eye.

"My whole family has been in Slytherin."

"Blimey! I thought you seemed alright!"

"Maybe I'll break the tradition."

Then everything went black and silent.


The hall was silent for some time after the hat called out his fate, and when Professor McGonagall took the hat off his head, every single mouth was opened in shock. Every student, and teacher alike, was trying to process to thought going through their head: A Black had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Then a single noise broke the deafening silence. Andromeda has stood up from her seat and had begun to clap, a slow but thunderous clap. That one noise had made the wheel roll; the same noise, which joined with Andromeda's clap, started behind him. Sirius whipped his head around to see Professor Dumbledore, standing up and clapping, a twinkle taking residence in his ice blue eyes.

He walked over to the silent Gryffindor table, the first First Year to be sorted into Gryffindor. As he sat down, everyone seemed to snap out of their stupor, everyone except the Slytherins, and a confused clap sounded throughout the hall; their Head Girl, Andromeda Black, in the lead.

Now James was being sorted. So far a fair amount of people had joined him, all avoiding him like he had Dragon Pox, all except a silent sandy haired boy who sat in front of him. Lupin, Remus. He was small, skinny and pale. Scars littered his body, ones that were practically invisible to the untrained eye, but Sirius knew better. Sirius had quite a few himself.

"Hey mate! You did it! You broke the tradition!" James said with enthusiasm, so much enthusiasm that it caused Sirius to smile. Sirius noted that Remus looked up in curiosity at the hyperactive boy that had just plopped himself down next to Sirius, his face was free of scars unlike his arms. Pettigrew, Peter, a small pudgy boy with watery blue eyes, was the last Gryffindor; Whitlock, Abbey, became a Slytherin and signified the end of Sorting.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and the entire hall, which had erupted into conversation, most of the older years greeting their new peers, turned silent. It was a calm silence, not like the deafening one that exploded with unanswered questions that followed Sirius' sorting.

"I can see the boredom in all of your eyes, I will save my speech for another time." And just like that, the food appeared as Dumbledore simply sat down.

Sirius looked through the gaps in between students until he could see his cousins. They're eyes were not on him but he could tell that, by the tense guard their shoulders set up, they were terribly 'displeased'-no, a Black was never mad only displeased- that Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, except Andromeda of course. Narcissa and Bellatrix looked like they would kill the next person who questioned them about the white sheep in the Black family, and everyone around them knew it.

"Hey, did you try some of the chicken? Its excellent!" James approved as he reached for another one himself.

"No, not yet." Sirius replied, his tone far away as he tried to catch Andromeda's eye. No luck so far.

"Here. Wait? Have you eaten anything, mate?"

"Huh?" Sirius gave up trying to signal his cousin and looked at James.

"Have. You. Eaten. Anything?" James asked, breaking the sentence down as if he was talking to a 3 year old.

Sirius looked down at his gold plate, which was clean except for a piece of chicken which had magically appeared on his plate.

"No, but I'm going to." Sirius cut off a piece from the chicken and stuck it in his mouth as if to prove it. James just shrugged and turned away, his eyes falling on Remus.

"Mate! Are you going to eat anything? Dinner's almost over and the chicken is great!" It was funny how James gushed about the chicken, as if that was the biggest concern in the world right now. How fabulous Hogwarts' chicken is.

Remus didn't respond. He probably didn't know James was talking to him.

"Here." James took a particularly juicy piece of chicken and plopped it down on Remus' golden plate, juice flying everywhere. Remus' head jerked up and started at the piece of chicken in wonder, as if he'd never seen it before. Remus spent a while just staring at his plate, which was too long in James' opinion. James picked up Remus' fork and stuck it right in the middle of the chicken.

"Eat." James commanded, staring at Remus. Remus looked up at James and shakily took hold of a knife and the fork. Remus cut the piece of chicken, the square held firmly in the fork's prongs, and held it in front of his mouth. The sandy haired boy looked at James' gaze, as if asking for permission to eat it. James nodded and just like that, Remus ate it.

"There we go! Excellent! I'm James Potter, thought you should know." James told Remus, sticking his hand across the table.

Remus took hold of his hand, barley even squeezing, and swallowed.

"Remus, Remus Lupin."

Remus looked at Sirius, his head tilted to the side, as if silently asking him what his name was. Sirius looked over to the Slytherin table. He saw his cousins acting like adults, not like the teenagers they were. All to keep up the façade of being a perfect pureblood.

Sirius' mind was made up. He was a Gryffindor! He had already broken the first Rule of the Blacks. Why not break the whole book?

He forgot all the etiquette lessons that had been drilled into his mind.

"I'm Sirius. Sirius Lee Black."

And just like that, a friendship was formed. All because of a slice of chicken and a simple joke.